Happy Birthday Sandy Monson Gottbreht
Happy Birthday Margaret Metcalfe Leonard
Note from Neola Kofoid Garbe: Bottineau & Minot, ND
Dear Gary/Friends,
At this time, I’m quite sure I will not be at the craft sale tomorrow; I’m still battling a cold (The last two months, or so, have certainly been interesting–to say the least!) My caramels are there, thanks to friends helping me get them to the armory and setting up my tables.
Neola
Bottineau Page family
Reply from Vickie Metcalfe (70): Bottineau, ND
Gary and Brenda,
Re:Bottineau Page Family,
Mrs. Bob Page is Kathleen Law Page, formerly from Finnegan Township near Rolette.
She attended country school many years ago, with my Uncle Charles Anklam.
Her mother was the teacher and author, Laura Thompson Law.
When I went to Scotland last summer, I found what a small world I live in.
My roommate was from the Red River Valley. Her paternal grandmother and Mrs. Law were sisters.
Laura Thompson Law wrote, “The History of Rolette County”,a few decades before the Dunseith Centennial book
which references it.
It is a wonderful red bound book written in the ’50s.
I was so excited to find, the books available at the Dunseith Log House this past summer.
Thanks to Jess Hosmer who sold them. I purchased several hard covered copies for each of my nieces and nephews,
along with copies of the Dunseith Centennial Book…… a perfect gift for those of us who believe in Santa!
Vickie M
Greg Page (BHS ’69) – President and CEO of Cargill, Inc
Reply from Rod Hiatt (69): Bottineau, ND
Gary
Greg Page graduated from Bottineau in 1969, he was one of my classmates. Greg went to college I believe in Grand Forks and planned on coming back to Bottineau when he was done, but he happened to be in the right place and at the right time and somehow got in with Cargill and worked his way to the top. Greg was always a very likeable guy and coming from small country town had great work ethics that paid off very well for him. Greg was back for one of our class reunions(I believe our 20th) and he at that time was fairly high up in Cargill, but he was still the same down to earth guy that I went to high school with. The last time Greg was up in Bottineau that I know of was he was the keenote speaker at the winter ag show. A great success story, a great CEO and a still a great Guy.
Excerpts from the WEB
Couple of Great Stories
From Larry Hackman (66): Bismarck, ND
Hello Gary
A couple of stories from long ago.
Hope everyone enjoys them.
Larry
Stories from a bygone era: My Great Uncle Henry Dietrich liked to tell a story now and then. Some might be true and some might not. Your guess is as good as mine. I reckon I was about 13 years old when Great Uncle Henry told me these stories. This one has to do with a horse, a practical and cheap mode of transportation, and for some the only mode of transportation, besides walking.Henry said the whole family was out in the barn yard milking the cows.It was in the fall of the year, near dusk and the shadows were already getting long. When into the yard walked this fellow, leading a horse.He walked up to the fence separating the barn yard, from the farm house yard.There was a difference between the yards.The difference being, one yard you had to worry about stepping in something, and the other yard you didn’t. The fellow leading that horse into the farmyard tied the lead rope of that horse to the fence and came walking through the homemade self closing gate into the barnyard. Henry always had this walk through board gate between the two yards rigged up with a rope and pulley system.You pushed it open from the house yard side then walked through into the barn yard, and the weighted pulley system would pull it shut behind you.I always thought that it was kind of a neat setup.It was probably constructed by my Uncle Frank Hackman, he was always known as the fixer or the inventor of the family.In fact his nick-name was “Fixer”. Anyway! This fellow, who brought the horse into the yard, apparently had looked over the people in the barn yard and made a calculated deduction that Great Uncle Henry was in charge of this group.Probably had something to do with his age, Henry had surmised.Anyway that fellow walked up and asked Henry if he would be interested in buying the mare that he had just tied to the fence.Now, I want you know, my Uncle Henry was a shrewd businessman, and also had a sharp eye.His first thought was to ask how much he wanted for the horse, but Henry didn’t want to start dickering on the horse yet, in fact, he didn’t want to give the impression that he was even interested in the horse.Henry just wanted to get the chores done for the day. During this time period (the 30’s), there were a lot of unscrupulous people wandering around the country side.Most were out to find a way, to make an easy buck or two, as there were no jobs, and nobody had any money, and if they did have any money they were hanging onto it tight. So, Henry was a little leery of just up and buying a horse from a stranger that had suddenly wandered into the yard.Uncle Henry was taking a good long hard look at the horse, to make sure that it didn’t belong to one of his neighbors.He didn’t recognize the horse, but still was not to anxious to buy a horse from a complete stranger.Henry didn’t even bother to walk over, to look the horse over.He was kind of anxious to get the milking done, and get this fellow out of his hair. Henry looking at the horse, and then at the fellow said, “You did say mare didn’t you”.The fellow nodded his head in agreement.Henry said, he looked that fellow straight in the eye and said, “If that horse is a mare, what’s that bat doing hanging under its stomach?The fellow looked at the horse, than back at Henry, and than just walked back over to the horse and untied him, and left.Henry said he never saw the fellow or the horse again. Another story, Great Uncle Henry told me about, was about running into an old friend in the grocery store.After the initial greetings, the conversation went onto asking about family.The fellow was real anxious to tell Henry about his son.The fellow said my son is really an important person in a large city out east.In fact he runs the whole city.He tells everyone what to do, and they listen to him.If they don’t, he fires them on the spot.He is a powerful man.Henry was getting interested, and asked the fellow what his son does?The fellow gave Henry one of them blank stares that us old fellows often do when our minds go blank.He gives Henry, a flustered look, and says the words were just on the tip of my tongue.I can’tthink of it now.It’s a big important job!He is an important man! I just can’t think of his title, he continued!All of sudden he looks at Uncle Henry, directly in the eye, and asks him, what is that horse with the two bung holes called?Henry looks at him kind of funny, and begins to wonder where this is going, but Henry says, you do mean a mare?The fellow gets all excited, saying, yes that’s it, that’s what he is, he’s a mayor. When I mentioned these stories to my brother Henry (class of 65) he recounted an incident that took place in the early 50’s back on the farm.He said that he and dad had rode out on the ford tractor to the old A-frame hay stacker that was setting out in the hay field, west of the farm yard.Dad was apparently checking it out to make sure that all the cables and pulleys were lubricated.He used a large wrench to tighten nuts and bolts on the stacker.He was making sure the stacker was ready for putting up hay for the long winter ahead. On the way to the stacker they had noticed a lone fellow walking out along the road to the west of them.Dad didn’t seem to pay much attention to him, but when the fellow veered from his southern direction, and started coming toward them, dad quit what he was doing and looked over at the fellow.Dad apparently was familiar with strangers wandering around.He immediately picked up a large wrench and slid it into the back pocket of them bib-overalls, that he always wore, and started walking toward that fellow.He turned, and told Henry to stay put. Henry said he saw the look in dad’s eye and knew he better do what he was told to do.He stayed there on the stacker leaning on a brace, watching, as the two men approached each other.They met about half way between the stacker and the road. Henry said, all he could see was dads back, but he could tell, that they were talking.He did notice that dads left arm kept flapping out and pointing to the south, the right arm he held close to his side and near that right back pocket, where that wrench was stored. Soon the fellow walked off to the south and Dad came back to the stacker.Dad put the wrench back into the tool box. There always seemed to people wandering around the countryside back in the day.I don’t know if this was because of the close proximity of the Canadian border or if it was because of the lean times that everyone was experiencing.As a young lad and not knowing at the time why dad put that wrench into his back pocket, Henry thinks he finally figured it out. Apparently dad was prepared to tighten something up on this wandering fellow, if he had too. I hope you enjoy these stories from the friendly Henry’s.Remember to laugh; Larry |