This must be about the umpteenth time I have taken pen in hand and written something about the Fourth of July.
Usually, most of my Fourth of July stories are about the Fourth in Glacier National Park, the Fourth on Clear Creek in the beautiful Bear Paw Mountains or the Fourth of July on Flathead Lake where there are so many people, that is probably the very worst of all times to visit tiny towns like Lakeside that have been made huge by friends of friends, tourists and families from all over the world.
Wherever I am writing about, I never forget the reason for the season. For some reason I have never forgotten my dad telling me that old grizzled homesteaders in the Bear Paw Mountains always remembered the Fourth of July. They would shoot a shot or two from their shotgun or rifle out the front door of their homestead shack. You see, they were very proud of the nation that they lived in and that they might just yet strike it rich. Only in America.
Then there were the years I wrote about the rodeo in Warrick. Get someone my age talking about the Fourth of July and they will never stop when they have stirred the conversation around to the Fourth of July at Warrick.
I remember I was doing a story a while ago about Duke Pursley who is an old time cowboy. It was he who told me that most all the old time cowboys got their start at the Warrick rodeo if they lived anywhere close.
And, I always write the most important words of all, that we all live in the most wonderful country ever. “One Nation, Under God, Indivisible” Oh, sometimes it may not seem like it but let something go wrong and it shows up immediately. And, of course, it goes without saying that of this great United States, we live in the best part of it, Montana! We love you!
