Long ago when I was a wee child, the Frank Bass family lived east of our farm.
I remember Frank, his wife Ginger and family coming to visit at our farm before they moved to Montana.
Time passed.
One sunny day in the 60’s ‘shadow’ passed over our house.
Skip our black and white ring collared collie, began to bark.
He barked and barked.
Skip was good at barking at chicken hawks and this one was a big one!
Wholly smokes! Not a chicken HAWK but a
Plane. Dad said, ” Lottie, I think that pilot of the plane is Frank Bass!!! ”
The plane began to circle our farm and the Seim farm to the west.
Mom said, ” Yes, It’s Frank and he’s landing in the middle of our cow pasture.”
Dad and mom went to greet him. Frank came up to the house, Then, I believe Art walked over.
We girls thought that was very exciting to have a plane land in our pasture.
Of course mom mom put on supper and the visiting continued.
Frank and Dad visited very late into the night.
Frank stayed over night, ate a good breakfast and continued to visit.
He loved a good visit.
He told the folks before he left, “If you ever want to sell, I’d come and be your auctioneer”.
We waved and watched as he flew away, one tip of the wing as if to say “So long.”
We watched with Skip until that “Silver Bird”….flew west chased by the morning Sun……
Frank Bass, was held in high esteem by many area folks. Montana’s Flying auctioneer.
A sweet memory, of old dog, good friends visiting and a sliver bird.
Frank lived in the area a couple miles east of our farm. He was related to the Glenn Weaver family.
Glen was married to C about his memories of the Bass family. He recalled Frank coming back from Montana
36 years ago she and Steve were taken from their family,friends and
community. At the time I was doing my own grieving and I never really
thought about how wonderful everyone @ school was. It was my junior year
and I passed that year with all D-. I know I didnt pass one final and I’m
almost positive the grades should have been Fs. I have so many fond
memories of school, things like doing the senior play “pick a dilly” and
making Miss Brooks throw her play book @ us. Anyone else remeber that ? I
know what Tim and Laurie are going through. husband is waiting for a
kidney, and we are doing home diaylsis with a once a week trip to Grand
Forks for hemadiaylsis. Its hard to watch a love one suffer and know what
the outcome will be if a donor isnt available soon. So please all reading
this get the word out SAVE A LIFE BE A DONOR. Last of all thank-you for
this site and all the updates. I can’t help thinking how much my dad would
have enjoyed these, I’m sure he would of had a storie or two to tell.
Vickie Hiatt LaFontaine 73
Greetings from Washington! I love reading all of these ‘tales’ of Dunseith. I find myself looking forward to coming home from work to get to read new ones. The snow storm Dick Johnson talked about in 68-69, I remember it well! We lived behind Robert’s gas station. There was a snow drift from the top peck of the the front of the station to the back alley at our front door. I remember we couldn’t get out of the door, so Dad helped my sister Julie out a window so she could shovel the snow from in front of the door to let us out of the house. A while later the Robert’s managed to get to the station, and Orphula recruited us girls to help shovel out the gas station. As I remember the snow plow made a pass down the center of main street and everyone shoveled paths out to it.
Also every once in awhile when it would snow alot, Orphula would take a hood off of one of the wrecked cars he had at the station and tie it to the back of his Wrecker with a rope or chain, and drive around town on side streets so kids could jump on the back and go for a ride. I’m sure it was not legal to do it, but Orphula was always very careful driving (he wouldn’t go very fast) so no one ever got hurt as far as I knew!
Ivy (Eller) Robert (74)
Earlier I sent pictures of our old cabin at Lake Metigoshe and some kids
there. The attached photo is also from there. My uncle Cliff and Mom and
Dad went by the dock and someone snapped this one. It brought to mind
another story! This is Grandpa Hans Johnson’s boat, I think, with a
“big” 18 horse outboard! We soon outgrew this old wood boat because of
waterskiing and double waterskiers,etc. Now for the story. My grandad,
Henry Olson said he would buy a good boat if Dad and Cliff would buy a
motor. I remember riding along { I was 6} to Bottineau to order a new
boat. To me this was big stuff!! We went to Otto Corbin’s shop. I think
it was called Corby ‘s Marine. The three guys picked out a new aluminum
Crestliner boat with a windshield and bright red and silver paint. A big
long 15 footer, WOW! Then when they were ready to sign the order,
Grandpa Henry said, ” Otto, you tell them to put the steering wheel on
the left side of the boat, we are in the USA not England !” I still
remember Otto saying, ” but Mr. Olson, it’s on the right side to
compensate for the torque of the motor.” Grandpa said, ” You put it on
the left side and we’ll buy a motor big enough that it won’t matter
which side of the damn boat we’re sitting on.” I remember thinking, oh
wow were getting a race boat! Dad and Cliff bought a 35 horse Johnson.
It was twice as big as what we had and it did seem like we were flying
on the water! Dad used to race the old boat, with the 18 horse motor,
with a neighbor, Mickey Harrison, who had a twenty horse Merc. They
would rip back and forth across the bay nearly even. When we got the new
boat and motor, dad really gave him a “spanking” the first weekend! The
next weekend Mickey came by with a big grin on his face and TWO 20 horse
Mercs on the back! Here they go again, same old story, neck and neck! It
was a fun time!! Thanks Gary !
Dick
