waksupi
07-29-2013, 12:01 AM
This was written about Troy, Montana, about 100 miles from me. Pretty much everything here describes exactly how it is in my area, and the majority of Montana.
Dear Friends,
Pat did not have to work on the 4th, and so we did what we always do
when we have the opportunity: We went to the 4th of July Celebration at
Roosevelt Park in Troy, Montana. For those of you who are unfamiliar, Troy
is a town of just 938 people, located along the Kootenai River, about 18
miles from Libby, and 20 miles from the Idaho border. Here is a link to
the history of the town:
http://cityoftroymontana.com/history.html (http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fcityoftroymontana.com%2Fhisto ry.html&h=HAQE6zpF4AQFqrejKSoiakGeoY0W5c8rkxrewaFXji8eJeA&s=1)
The 4th of July Celebration in Troy has become regionally famous and it
draws people from all over Lincoln and Sanders Counties as well as from
nearby Bonners Ferry, Idaho. Attendance at the day-long event usually runs
around 3,000, although the crowd at any one time rarely exceeds 1,000. It
is not a racially mixed or culturally diverse crowd. These are white
people, because that is who lives here, and we see no need to artificially
diversify our population in order to satisfy some UCLA professor's concept
of what a community is supposed to be. (See footnote 1) We are not ashamed
of being white and our families, schools, and communities all seem to
function quite well, either because of it or in spite of it, depending on
your view. One thing of note is that there were no uniformed police
officers at this event. Not necessary. Nor were there any undercover drug
enforcement agents making deals behind the Porta-Potties. They would have
stood out in this crowd like the sore thumbs they are. Could the lack of
any need for gun-toting cops of any kind at this event have something to do
with the lack of diversity I mentioned earlier? Perhaps the UCLA professor
could answer that, if he had the guts.
The 4th of July Celebration in Troy is a very well planned, family oriented
event. There is something for everybody. The local classic car club
filled about half of the soccer field with their shiny restored muscle cars
and their neat old tin-lizzies. The rest of the field was occupied by
families with picnic baskets and fathers and sons passing ball. On the
baseball field there were a few rides for the kids, not owned by a contract
carnival and operated by carnies from Florida. The rides are simple but
fun, non-motorized, owned and operated by the local Rotary Club. There was
a quilt show held in the elementary school adjacent to the park. Quilting
is a big deal in this part of the Country.
Two double rows of vendors were set up in an L shape. The crafts,
charities and educational booths were along the riverbank and the food
booths were along the edge of the soccer field. The crafters were local
people, many of them otherwise unemployed or retired, trying to make ends
meet by their own means. A few businesses were set up among them, such as
a manufacturer of fishing rafts whose "factory" (an oversized garage) is
located near Bull Lake, and a family-owned company that makes rustic log
furniture. At the angle of the L there was a baby changing booth operated
by the Lutheran Church, donations appreciated but not required. Right next
to it was a rest area with shade, ice water, and lounge chairs manned by
EMT's from the volunteer ambulance company. The ambulance was parked
nearby just in case. It was brutally hot that day. Across from the rest
area the Food Bank and our non-ASPCA humane shelter, Kootenai Pets for
Life, had informational booths. We dropped some change in both of their
jars. Next to them the Montana Dept. of Fish, Wildlife and Parks had a
display for hunters to educate them and everyone else about the habits of
the grizzly bear and how to distinguish it from the black bear. The Libby
Baptist Church was giving out free Bibles, and the Lincoln County
Democratic Party was selling raffle tickets for a Ruger Model 77 Mark II in
30-06 caliber with a Bushnell scope. Yes, the *Democrats* were raffling
off a GUN!
The dozen or so food booths were all operated by local charities or
families trying to make a living. There were no "roach coaches" owned by
full-time carnival gypsies. The food was great. I had a fried chicken
dinner prepared for me by the hands of the general surgeon at our local
hospital. His wife put a dollop of potato salad onto my plate. She had
made two huge vats of it. They were both tired and sweaty, but the Boy
Scouts they were supporting deserved it. I topped off the meal with ice
cream I bought at the volunteer fire company's booth, and a soda from the
Lions Club. The trash cans were emptied and the grounds were kept spotless
by roving bands of teenagers from the high school chorus, although their
job was fairly easy because Montanans are not litterbugs. Separate trash
cans for aluminum and all other trash, of course. It was no surprise that
the designated aluminum receptacle contained no other trash. Montanans are
just that way. No beer cans here since alcohol is prohibited in the family
oriented park, and everybody complies because they understand the rules.
There was music in the acoustically well-designed pavilion all day long,
beginning after the parade at 11 AM and lasting until the fireworks at 10
PM. We are fortunate to have a large community of talented musicians in
this area. Pat and I sat in the bleachers and listened to a folk trio from
Bonners Ferry, Idaho, a grunge band named The Fractured from Troy, and the
Allen Lane Band. Allen lost his right arm just below the shoulder in a
logging accident. He took up the guitar after the accident and he can play
it better than 99% of the big name stars in Nashville.
A solo performer, who was listed on the music program only as "Area 56"
(see footnote 2) strode to the microphone with an electric guitar in his
hands. He placed the guitar on a chair, grasped the microphone in his
hands, and without any accompaniment sang our National Anthem. Everybody
froze in place. All the kids stopped playing. Those seated in their lawn
chairs stood up. Everyone in the bleachers stood up. Everyone turned to
face the flag pole next to the music pavilion and put their hands over
their hearts. There was not a sound to be heard from anyone else. He did
not sing a jazz version, or a blues version, or a sultry version, or a
gutsy version, or a twangy country version. He sang it straight, the way
it was intended, and hit every note perfectly. By the time he finished I
was wiping tears from my cheeks, trying to regain my composure in front of
those around me. As I did the musician sat down with his guitar and
blasted into the Jimi Hendrix version. Everyone remained standing. It's
Montana.
Across town on 1st Avenue the local biker bar, the Home Bar, was having its
own 4th of July event. In the beer garden out back there were bands, and
food, and of course lots of beer. The hard core bikers, most of them old
enough to be card carrying members of the AARP, wore their colors. The
Libby/Troy club has Mickey Mouse emblazoned on all of its leather
jackets. Over the left pocket there is a POW/MIA patch. None of the usual
symbols of violence or drugs to be found on those jackets. Proceeds from
the Home Bar event were going to the Montana State Veterans Home and the
Wounded Warrior Project. Big, bad Montana bikers!
The 4th of July celebration in Troy is the essence of what this place is
all about. It is the reason why I am a Montanan. It is a gathering of
self-reliant, free people expressing themselves as they wish, unashamed of
their lives, and unfettered by false guilt, enjoying the holiday among
their friends and neighbors. These people hunt animals and eat them. It's
not bloodlust or penis envy; it's food. They attend church on Sundays, and
respect the beliefs of those who do not. In a crisis they look to one
another, not to Big Brother in Washington. Accepting welfare and food
stamps is a last resort, not a lifestyle. Nobody is ever left stranded on
the side of the road. The first car that comes by will stop to help. Our
law enforcement officers are part of our community. They live here and we
like them. They know their job is to protect us, not to keep us in
line. And the few former criminals among us are not heroes. They are
outcasts until they prove themselves worthy of our acceptance. Our
children know who their fathers are. Nearly all of our children are born
into marriages. Abortion is not much of an issue here. When there are
solid families and supportive communities who needs it? We are polite and
civil to one another at all times. We only use the horn in our car to say
hello to someone passing by. There has never been a case of road rage in
Lincoln County, although we do get angry at the deer jumping onto the
road. Violent crime is minuscule here compared to most places. It is
never random and always involves people who know each other, usually by way
of the marriage-infidelity-divorce cycle or the misuse of alcohol, or
both. None of our public buildings or bridges are tagged with spray-can
scrawl. The occasional "J L Loves M R" with hearts and arrows or "Class of
2010 Rules!" are about the limit of it, and never on a building. Our roads
are not strewn with trash. Littering is a symptom of a much more serious
disease, that is not caring about one's neighbors, and believing that it is
someone else's responsibility to keep the roads clean. Oh Boy! Now I have
done it. I have used that word, responsibility. It is a word that
liberals avoid using at all costs. It is really the bottom line of all
this. In listening to the speeches of our President I have never heard him
use it, except when assigning blame to the other side for his own failures,
the very antithesis of responsibility. He says THEY are responsible for
this or that, but he and his administration and the minions who support
them are never responsible for anything. The sign on Democrat Harry
Truman's desk said, "The Buck Stops Here." If Obama has a sign it says
"The Buck Stops Somewhere Else." I guess Democrats have a different
paradigm these days. Montanans take responsibility for themselves like no
other people I have met anywhere in this Country. Living here I can see it
all around me, but in concentrated form at the 4th of July Celebration in
Troy.
The citiots, zombies, sheeple, academic snobs, and effete liberals will
never understand such things. The people in charge of our Federal
government cannot comprehend them, so they fear them. And well they should
fear these people. They are Montanans. They will not be subjugated. They
will not swallow the lies of politicians. They will not be made to believe
that they are wrong because they do not go along with "popular"
thinking. The mainstream media belittles them as ignorant bumpkins, but
they know better. Strong, proud people cannot be marginalized by the likes
of the talking heads on CNN. I am so grateful to have been here for the
past 23 years.
1 Yes, I am a racist according to the current criteria established by the
liberal left. I admit it. I have not always been a racist. In fact I
have contributed money to a civil rights group led by Andrew Young, and I
have carried signs in civil rights protests. But that was long ago, before
I shed the false guilt I was inculcated with as a youth, and before I
learned what the race issue in America is really all about, and who the
real racists are in this Country. If the likes of Al Sharpton, Jesse
Jackson and Charlie Rangel want to see the face of racism in America today
all they have to do is look in a mirror.
2 Montana vehicle license plates are issued by county. Ours in Lincoln
County all start with the number 56. I still do not know the musician's
real name.
Dear Friends,
Pat did not have to work on the 4th, and so we did what we always do
when we have the opportunity: We went to the 4th of July Celebration at
Roosevelt Park in Troy, Montana. For those of you who are unfamiliar, Troy
is a town of just 938 people, located along the Kootenai River, about 18
miles from Libby, and 20 miles from the Idaho border. Here is a link to
the history of the town:
http://cityoftroymontana.com/history.html (http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fcityoftroymontana.com%2Fhisto ry.html&h=HAQE6zpF4AQFqrejKSoiakGeoY0W5c8rkxrewaFXji8eJeA&s=1)
The 4th of July Celebration in Troy has become regionally famous and it
draws people from all over Lincoln and Sanders Counties as well as from
nearby Bonners Ferry, Idaho. Attendance at the day-long event usually runs
around 3,000, although the crowd at any one time rarely exceeds 1,000. It
is not a racially mixed or culturally diverse crowd. These are white
people, because that is who lives here, and we see no need to artificially
diversify our population in order to satisfy some UCLA professor's concept
of what a community is supposed to be. (See footnote 1) We are not ashamed
of being white and our families, schools, and communities all seem to
function quite well, either because of it or in spite of it, depending on
your view. One thing of note is that there were no uniformed police
officers at this event. Not necessary. Nor were there any undercover drug
enforcement agents making deals behind the Porta-Potties. They would have
stood out in this crowd like the sore thumbs they are. Could the lack of
any need for gun-toting cops of any kind at this event have something to do
with the lack of diversity I mentioned earlier? Perhaps the UCLA professor
could answer that, if he had the guts.
The 4th of July Celebration in Troy is a very well planned, family oriented
event. There is something for everybody. The local classic car club
filled about half of the soccer field with their shiny restored muscle cars
and their neat old tin-lizzies. The rest of the field was occupied by
families with picnic baskets and fathers and sons passing ball. On the
baseball field there were a few rides for the kids, not owned by a contract
carnival and operated by carnies from Florida. The rides are simple but
fun, non-motorized, owned and operated by the local Rotary Club. There was
a quilt show held in the elementary school adjacent to the park. Quilting
is a big deal in this part of the Country.
Two double rows of vendors were set up in an L shape. The crafts,
charities and educational booths were along the riverbank and the food
booths were along the edge of the soccer field. The crafters were local
people, many of them otherwise unemployed or retired, trying to make ends
meet by their own means. A few businesses were set up among them, such as
a manufacturer of fishing rafts whose "factory" (an oversized garage) is
located near Bull Lake, and a family-owned company that makes rustic log
furniture. At the angle of the L there was a baby changing booth operated
by the Lutheran Church, donations appreciated but not required. Right next
to it was a rest area with shade, ice water, and lounge chairs manned by
EMT's from the volunteer ambulance company. The ambulance was parked
nearby just in case. It was brutally hot that day. Across from the rest
area the Food Bank and our non-ASPCA humane shelter, Kootenai Pets for
Life, had informational booths. We dropped some change in both of their
jars. Next to them the Montana Dept. of Fish, Wildlife and Parks had a
display for hunters to educate them and everyone else about the habits of
the grizzly bear and how to distinguish it from the black bear. The Libby
Baptist Church was giving out free Bibles, and the Lincoln County
Democratic Party was selling raffle tickets for a Ruger Model 77 Mark II in
30-06 caliber with a Bushnell scope. Yes, the *Democrats* were raffling
off a GUN!
The dozen or so food booths were all operated by local charities or
families trying to make a living. There were no "roach coaches" owned by
full-time carnival gypsies. The food was great. I had a fried chicken
dinner prepared for me by the hands of the general surgeon at our local
hospital. His wife put a dollop of potato salad onto my plate. She had
made two huge vats of it. They were both tired and sweaty, but the Boy
Scouts they were supporting deserved it. I topped off the meal with ice
cream I bought at the volunteer fire company's booth, and a soda from the
Lions Club. The trash cans were emptied and the grounds were kept spotless
by roving bands of teenagers from the high school chorus, although their
job was fairly easy because Montanans are not litterbugs. Separate trash
cans for aluminum and all other trash, of course. It was no surprise that
the designated aluminum receptacle contained no other trash. Montanans are
just that way. No beer cans here since alcohol is prohibited in the family
oriented park, and everybody complies because they understand the rules.
There was music in the acoustically well-designed pavilion all day long,
beginning after the parade at 11 AM and lasting until the fireworks at 10
PM. We are fortunate to have a large community of talented musicians in
this area. Pat and I sat in the bleachers and listened to a folk trio from
Bonners Ferry, Idaho, a grunge band named The Fractured from Troy, and the
Allen Lane Band. Allen lost his right arm just below the shoulder in a
logging accident. He took up the guitar after the accident and he can play
it better than 99% of the big name stars in Nashville.
A solo performer, who was listed on the music program only as "Area 56"
(see footnote 2) strode to the microphone with an electric guitar in his
hands. He placed the guitar on a chair, grasped the microphone in his
hands, and without any accompaniment sang our National Anthem. Everybody
froze in place. All the kids stopped playing. Those seated in their lawn
chairs stood up. Everyone in the bleachers stood up. Everyone turned to
face the flag pole next to the music pavilion and put their hands over
their hearts. There was not a sound to be heard from anyone else. He did
not sing a jazz version, or a blues version, or a sultry version, or a
gutsy version, or a twangy country version. He sang it straight, the way
it was intended, and hit every note perfectly. By the time he finished I
was wiping tears from my cheeks, trying to regain my composure in front of
those around me. As I did the musician sat down with his guitar and
blasted into the Jimi Hendrix version. Everyone remained standing. It's
Montana.
Across town on 1st Avenue the local biker bar, the Home Bar, was having its
own 4th of July event. In the beer garden out back there were bands, and
food, and of course lots of beer. The hard core bikers, most of them old
enough to be card carrying members of the AARP, wore their colors. The
Libby/Troy club has Mickey Mouse emblazoned on all of its leather
jackets. Over the left pocket there is a POW/MIA patch. None of the usual
symbols of violence or drugs to be found on those jackets. Proceeds from
the Home Bar event were going to the Montana State Veterans Home and the
Wounded Warrior Project. Big, bad Montana bikers!
The 4th of July celebration in Troy is the essence of what this place is
all about. It is the reason why I am a Montanan. It is a gathering of
self-reliant, free people expressing themselves as they wish, unashamed of
their lives, and unfettered by false guilt, enjoying the holiday among
their friends and neighbors. These people hunt animals and eat them. It's
not bloodlust or penis envy; it's food. They attend church on Sundays, and
respect the beliefs of those who do not. In a crisis they look to one
another, not to Big Brother in Washington. Accepting welfare and food
stamps is a last resort, not a lifestyle. Nobody is ever left stranded on
the side of the road. The first car that comes by will stop to help. Our
law enforcement officers are part of our community. They live here and we
like them. They know their job is to protect us, not to keep us in
line. And the few former criminals among us are not heroes. They are
outcasts until they prove themselves worthy of our acceptance. Our
children know who their fathers are. Nearly all of our children are born
into marriages. Abortion is not much of an issue here. When there are
solid families and supportive communities who needs it? We are polite and
civil to one another at all times. We only use the horn in our car to say
hello to someone passing by. There has never been a case of road rage in
Lincoln County, although we do get angry at the deer jumping onto the
road. Violent crime is minuscule here compared to most places. It is
never random and always involves people who know each other, usually by way
of the marriage-infidelity-divorce cycle or the misuse of alcohol, or
both. None of our public buildings or bridges are tagged with spray-can
scrawl. The occasional "J L Loves M R" with hearts and arrows or "Class of
2010 Rules!" are about the limit of it, and never on a building. Our roads
are not strewn with trash. Littering is a symptom of a much more serious
disease, that is not caring about one's neighbors, and believing that it is
someone else's responsibility to keep the roads clean. Oh Boy! Now I have
done it. I have used that word, responsibility. It is a word that
liberals avoid using at all costs. It is really the bottom line of all
this. In listening to the speeches of our President I have never heard him
use it, except when assigning blame to the other side for his own failures,
the very antithesis of responsibility. He says THEY are responsible for
this or that, but he and his administration and the minions who support
them are never responsible for anything. The sign on Democrat Harry
Truman's desk said, "The Buck Stops Here." If Obama has a sign it says
"The Buck Stops Somewhere Else." I guess Democrats have a different
paradigm these days. Montanans take responsibility for themselves like no
other people I have met anywhere in this Country. Living here I can see it
all around me, but in concentrated form at the 4th of July Celebration in
Troy.
The citiots, zombies, sheeple, academic snobs, and effete liberals will
never understand such things. The people in charge of our Federal
government cannot comprehend them, so they fear them. And well they should
fear these people. They are Montanans. They will not be subjugated. They
will not swallow the lies of politicians. They will not be made to believe
that they are wrong because they do not go along with "popular"
thinking. The mainstream media belittles them as ignorant bumpkins, but
they know better. Strong, proud people cannot be marginalized by the likes
of the talking heads on CNN. I am so grateful to have been here for the
past 23 years.
1 Yes, I am a racist according to the current criteria established by the
liberal left. I admit it. I have not always been a racist. In fact I
have contributed money to a civil rights group led by Andrew Young, and I
have carried signs in civil rights protests. But that was long ago, before
I shed the false guilt I was inculcated with as a youth, and before I
learned what the race issue in America is really all about, and who the
real racists are in this Country. If the likes of Al Sharpton, Jesse
Jackson and Charlie Rangel want to see the face of racism in America today
all they have to do is look in a mirror.
2 Montana vehicle license plates are issued by county. Ours in Lincoln
County all start with the number 56. I still do not know the musician's
real name.