According to an old ballad, “Saturday night” was the loneliest night of the week.” Not so for the Circle Diamond cowboys. After their once-a-week bath, either in a creek during the heat of summer days or with a tub full of water heated on the...

Whenever Dorri and I visit on the phone, we can’t help but reminisce about our childhood days in Malta, Mont. Life was simple yet joy filled – in the Depression Days. There was an abundance of cottonwood trees to be climbed – oh what fun for...

Around Christmas time 1921, when Mary Jane and her little daughter of Glasgow were visiting Mary Jane’s parents in Malta the two came down with the measles. The little girl had black dots over her entire body. Mary Jane wanted a bath for at least...

Those hardy individuals homesteading on the northern plains of Montana never expected the services that society now enjoys: There was on exception, though: doctors’ house calls. Living an austere life 40-plus miles from the nearest town was...

The year was 1951. A larger bed for Baby Gregory was very much needed after sleeping in the convenient bassinet. Mother could, and easily did, rock with one foot while hands were busy with garden fresh green beans. Soon baby was asleep and one step...

Hidden in the shadows of modern farm buildings, rests a gray rotting log cabin, whispering its memories of the homestead days on the Montana prairie, northeast of Malta. My sister and I made many a journey, through the crescent wheat grass, winding...

Walking into our tiny living room before Christmas had become a yearly event for this older couple. There was a gift in hand which they presented to Mama and then relaxed to chat awhile. This pleasant-looking couple were no strangers to me as I had...

It was a pleasantly warm day which found my mother, Lena, her father, George, and me, a 14-year-old girl, walking on the outskirts of the little town of Malta, Mont. I was completely unconscious of the bit of history which I would observe this day wh...

Pulling the fragrant golden loaves from the oven, thoughts of long ago flooded my mind. Mary, my silver-haired neighbor, had suggested that I reserve potato water for bread making. It does lighten up the dough, and I’ve been doing it ever since....

While I was attending high school in Malta, two south county ranchers were shot to death in the men’s restroom of a local saloon. The wild, wild west was not of the past; it was in the here and now! During the same time frame, a north county...

Editor's Note: This story was originally told by Mary Ellen DePuydt to our very own Helen. Hidden in the shadows of modern farm buildings, rests a gray rotting log cabin, whispering its memories of the homestead days on the Montana prairie,...

Ol’ Norman has been gone a long time, but his stories linger on. The old gent nodded his head toward a man ascending the massive staircase in the county courthouse. “You know who that is, don’t you?” “Yes,” I replied, thinking that a...

Suicide has to be one of the saddest words in the English language. It’s a word you are never ready to hear. Dr. Scott Hahn, professor at Stevensville University spoke of an episode in his life. He was enroute to a speaking engagement when he...

The Philosophy of Life...Don’t have one? Everyone has a philosophy. For example, the one that says, “That’s yours but I will take it.” That’s going on all over the world. Most likely you have encountered that; I certainly have. It happened...

It was 1936 when Mama made a very wise decision, moving lock, stock and barrel from our farm north 50 miles to the county seat, Malta, Mont. Mama related to me years later that during the winter of ‘35-36, our well ran dry and in the harsh winter,...

By a prior agreement, Wednesdays are our special days together, right here in familiar surroundings. Most of the time I choose enticing things for the agenda such as bread making; grinding the homegrown wheat into fluffy beige flour. When Kelcie, my...

The headlines read: "Well-Known Educator Killed in Car Accident." But there was much more to that. Russell Grandel, geologist, his wife, Mary Ellen, R.N., along with their nearly 2-year-old son, Frazier, were hit by this man who came at them from...

Karolina’s most recent employment in Butte, Montana, during the early 1900s was turning out satisfactory, each position different from the previous one. Life in Montana was more diverse that she, a Croatian-born young lady, could have ever...

My three preschoolers and I were waiting for the school bus. Parka-clad Steven maneuvered his way through the bus door, a paper bag held protectively in his arms. “Whatcha got, Steve?” “Is it something to eat?” Kids always thinking of food!...

It was night and I had been sleeping soundly. Suddenly my heart is beating wildly and my thinking that cold hand so close to my throat. Irrational terror, plain unadulterated TERROR, struck me. I never ever had the possibility of sudden violent...

A multitude of preparatory steps went into a typical washday in the homesteader’s modest home. It’s a certainty that the modern-day housewife would think twice before swapping places with the housewives of the early 1900s in rural Montana. Doing...

Diamond willows brought from the Frenchman Creek have played a unique role in the lifetime of Otto Kientz, providing him with a handy supply of slender but sturdy fence posts. Sixty years is an unbelievably long life for a post supporting several...

Correction: The last installment of Listen to the Quiet featured competing and/or incorrect spellings of the names “Kientz” (this being the correct version) and “Anne Poland Dippy” (also corrected). Certainly, no people lived closer to God...

The depression days have been appropriately named, the “Dirty Thirties” - dust storms often times obscuring the very sun in the sky – fierce winds blowing the thistles against the barbed wire fences, which in turn caught much of the moving tops...