DECEMBER 2024 Ghost Towns and History of Montana Newsletter From The Bozeman Daily Chronicle, Dec. 24, 1920 Bannack– Part 2 Accessed via: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/ In mid-September 1863, after traveling for more than three months by wagon from Omaha, Nebraska, a small party of weary travelers reach Bannack. They were newly appointed Idaho Chief Justice Sidney Edgerton (future Montana Territorial Governor); his wife, Mary; their four children; Harriet and Wilbur Sanders (Edgerton’s nephew) and their two children; Lucia Darling (Edgerton’s niece); and Henry Tilden (another Edgerton nephew). For the most part, the streets and shops of Bannack were considered unsafe or unfit for genteel women. Not many families dared to live in such an environment, but those who did were determined to see their children educated. In the summer of 1863, Mrs. Henry Zoller set up a “subscription school” in her home, charging parents $2 a week to teach their children. Unfortunately, Mrs. Zoller’s tutelage lasted only two months. Of the fall of 1864, Lucia Darling wrote, “Bannack was tumultuous and rough, the headquarters of a band of highwaymen, and lawlessness and misrule seemed to be the prevailing spirit of the place. But into this little town had drifted many worthy people who unbendingly held firmly to their principles of right. There were few families there, and the parents were anxious to have their children in school.” So she improvised a school in her unSunlight illuminates the Bannack Church. (Photo by Rick and Susie Graetz)
P a g e 2 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r cle Sidney Edgerton’s house; and as a record of its existence is available, it is considered as the first Montana public school. Twelve students attended the fall session. Schoolbooks were scarce, and the only texts available were what the families brought with them. Up until 1874, most schooling was carried out in various homes, stores and a rustic cabin. Then the education community and the organization of Masons joined to construct a two-story building for $1,500. School was taught on the ground level, and the Masonic Order ensconced itself on the second floor. The school bell rang here for more than 70 years until 1951, when a dwindling student population forced closure. The problem of having a place to hold regular meetings wasn’t restricted to the need for a school. Early clerics who came to town often were found to be lacking in their ability to engage the faithful. Religious services improved when the affable Reverend George Smith showed up. “I began preaching in an empty storeroom…and I had the most intelligent and wide-a-wake congregation I have ever ministered unto,” he later wrote. Along with riches and business opportunities, there was also a darker side to the town’s early days. Bannack, like most of the mining camps, was a rough and sometimes dangerous place. Drunkenness, fights, robberies, killings and the like were often the order of the day. After spending time in San Quentin Prison in 1859, the infamous Henry Plummer came to town in the winter of 1862. He was elected sheriff by the Miner’s Court on May 24, 1863. Immediately, Plummer organized 25 followers from his past into a gang named the Innocents, because they agreed to always plead their innocence in the unlikely event of their arrest. Under the protection of Plummer, this band of vicious thugs set out to terrorize Bannack and other gold camps. In eight months, it is estimated they “legally” robbed and murdered more than 100 people. As the lawlessness increased and the jail remained empty, it soon became apparent to some that perhaps their sheriff was involved with the gang. On Dec. 23, 1863, unwilling to be bullied and victimized any longer, the Vigilante Committee, consisting of regular citizens from both Virginia City and Bannack, was organized to stop the rampant terror and bring safety to the residents of the Montana Territory. Members were sworn in by Wilbur Sanders, and Captain James Williams was their leader. During the next 42 days, these self-authorized law enforcers went as far as the Hellgate near Missoula in pursuit of members of Plummer’s gang. Instead of orderly arrests, trials and sentencings, the vigilantes took matters into their own hands and carried out a reign of lynching. By the end of January, they had executed 24 supposed outlaws, including Henry Plummer, and banished or silenced the remainder. Catch next month’s newsletter for Part 3! Provided Courtesy of: University of Montana | Department of Geography | Rick and Susie Graetz Originally published on THIS IS MONTANA, an uncommon website. By means of photography, essays, maps, and much more, the University of Montana presents a vivid portrait of the beauty and uniqueness of the Montana. Check out more at: https://www.umt.edu/this-is-montana/ default.php
P a g e 3 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r MINES AND MINING IN PARK COUNTY-continued From The Livingston Enterprise, January 1, 1900: The Mines. The deepest mine in Cooke is the Morning Star, showing a continuous vein of ore averaging $35 in gold and silver and 60 per cent lead, while the shaft is free from water. Among the prominent mines of the camp are the Black Warrior, Shoo Fly, Little Daisy, International, Snowslide, Acme, Talisman, Homestake, Alice E., Moulton, Bunker Hill, Iceberg and Red Mountain lode. The Little Daisy shows beautiful specimens of galena containing wire gold. The Homestake discloses large bodies of ore carrying lead, copper, gold and silver, and the Red Mountain lode shows thousands of tons of ore on the dump, running as high as 800 ounces in silver. The White Warrior group during its active moments produced ore that assayed as high as $7,000 per ton, averaging, all told, $80. The Ore. The character of the ore varies through every gradation of class and richness, silver-bearing galena ores predominating; yet free-milling quartz has been found in a number of locations, some of it rich in gold. Most of the ores that are essentially argentiferous show a fair percentage of gold, so that though the district is principally silver bearing it is by no means entirely so, and may yet rank high for its production of the more precious metal. The galena ores are for the most part of the class that yields readily to the simplest smelting processes, while others are so refractory as to require preliminary roasting to drive off the sulphurtes. It is fair to state that there is a prevalent opinion that with proper treatment in the smelter the roasting process might be avoided with all the ores of the district. The assays vary from the lowest to fabulous figures ; but in this day of cautious investment in mines, an assay is considered as little more than an evidence of what the rock contains, rather than the amount. One of the prominent features throughout the mineral propositions is the extent of the ore bodies. The surface indications are of a character that the most inexperienced prospector would notice as presenting evidences of mineral wealth, and in every instance where the development has been carried forward the work has uncovered lodes of increasing extent and no diminishing richness. Cooke City is a typical mining camp, situated at an altitude of 10,000 feet and entirely surrounded by rugged mountains, whose summits are always snow-capped. Some of the largest rivers of Montana rise in the district, i. e., Clark’s Fork, Madison, Gallatin and the Yellowstone. The city is watered by Soda Butte creek and so situated in the narrow gulch that there is only room for one street, in order that the houses may occupy level ground. The structures that comprise the town vary from the dirt-covered log shacks to neat and Where wire gold is exposed at the surface in Hidden Treasure No. 3
P a g e 4 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r commodious frame buildings. Brick clay of the common grade is found abundantly; also a good quality of fire clay that has been tested and found to be of first-class material for the manufacture of fire brick. At the present time the city is well supplied with hotels, lodging houses, and a supply store which meets the present requirements, of the camp. Natural Bridge District, or Contact About thirty-two miles above the mouth of the Boulder is located the mining camp of the Natural Bridge district, with Contact as a center. It was supposed that this was a rich mineral bearing district for many years, but during the summer of 1894 A. Drago and Hector McRae verified this belief by discovering quartz in Slate mountain. It is a free-milling proposition, and up to date has some three hundred feet of tunneling. Since then the Minnie, Minnie Extension, Great West, Standard and Natural Bridge claims have been located, assays running from $50 to $100 in gold, but owing to the lack of better facilities to treat the ore they have been progressing very slowly. Following this and on the same mountain is the Oregon group, of E. Fowler and Jas. Howell, while the Plymouth group is further southwest of this. Next comes the Bonanza or Newell mountain, located by P. J. Donnelly, who represents some ten or more claims on this and Slate mountain, all free-milling propositions and rich in ore. In the spring of 1898 Thos. McHugh and W. W. Wishon of Butte located a claim on Gould Mountain, showing a good working proposition in copper. I. J. Cooper and William Kearns have several claims on Froze-toDeath creek in the Snowies, showing gold and copper. On this same creek and near the divide of the Boulder and West Boulder are the claims of James Blackburn, Harvey Bliss and Mr. Budd. In 1894 a post office was established at Contact, with James Blackburn as postmaster, who retained this position until 1897, when, by Mr. Blackburn retiring, A. B. Gould was appointed as his successor. It was so named by this region being a contact of lime and granite formations. About ten miles below Contact is located a good lignite coal camp. It has proven to be good blacksmith coal, will cake and coke and, undoubtedly, is a great stimulus to the future mining possibilities of the entire Boulder region. The Pioneer Resident of the National Park George W. Marshall, of Rock Island, Illinois, is the pioneer resident of the Geyser Basin of our National park. He owned the first stage line that ran into this exclusive resort, his family being the first that wintered there, while the first child born in the “Enchanted Land” was his daughter Rose. –Read more in next month’s newsletter! Buffalo scene near Cooke City
P a g e 5 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Christmas Holidays at Virginia City Montana in the Golden Days of '68. Holidays in the Rocky Mountains, (wrote a visitor in Virginia City, to the New York Tribune under date of January 4, 1868), are the most festive of all our festive occasions. Dull care is thrown far in the background and business is subordinated to social and general enjoyment. Christmas was one of the balmiest days I ever witnessed in any climate. I sat most of the day in an office with the windows and doors open and fire would have been uncomfortable. The air was soft as eastern spring and the sun shone out upon the hills and cliffs with such warmth as to start their winter crowns of snow in murmuring streamlets down their rugged sides. The city was gay throughout. The mines had poured forth their sturdy men to have a holiday frolic, and "The Pony," (the chief saloon) had crowded tables from early morning until the “wee sma’ hours” told that another Christmas had departed. The street auctions were unusually lively; the stores were swarming with customers of all classes from the unshorn and unshaven mountaineer to the fashionable belle; the “sports” had their lively games, and billiards attracted nearly all the dignitaries of state to try their skill. Sumptuous dinners were spread in various uninviting-looking shanties, and fair hands and fascinating faces inside made guests forget the rude architecture that encircled them. In the evening mine host, Chapin, of the Planters, gave a ball, and one hundred Jolly people responded. Tickets were twenty dollars each, but the supply was unequal to the demand. A second floor over one of the large store rooms was fitted up most tastefully for the occasion. Evergreens and flowers were festooned around the walls and the Stars and Stripes hung in graceful folds over the orchestra. For the first time in the far west I found nearly as many ladies as men at the ball; but they varied rather more in their ages than is usual in eastern gatherings of the kind. Young misses of ten and twelve years not infrequently aided to fill up the dance; while my partner in the only active participation I had in the ball (the promenade to supper) was a grandmother who owned to nearly sixty winters. Supper came at midnight and it would have done credit to any eastern town of thrice our population. Oyster soup opened the course—the oysters having been shipped three thousand miles. Elegant salads, delicious pellies, game of all kinds, candies manufactured into temples and monuments, almost every variety of fruits, and sparkling wines, combined to tempt the appetite. While there was freedom from the severe exactions of social rules in the east, there was the most scrupulous care on the part of all to restrain social freedom within the bounds of propriety. After an hour at the table the middle-aged portion of the party returned to the ball-room, while the old folks and little retired to their homes. Altogether it was one of the most agreeable gatherings I have ever witnessed; and it was enjoyed by most of Photo by Jolene Ewert-Hintz
P a g e 6 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r the company as only western people can enjoy social parties. With all the freedom of western life I have never seen a man intoxicated at a ball or other social meeting; and the sincere cordiality evinced by the ladies toward each other would be an improvement on the more cultivated customs of the east. Between Christmas and New Year the city was unusually lively. The streets were gay with beauty and fashion, and in the evening merry music and the dance were always to be found under some of the many hospital roofs of the town. Col. John X. Beidler (then collector of customs at Helena) was here, having a good time visiting old friends; and Col. Nell Howie (head of the Montana volunteer Indian fighters at that time) was also among the guests enjoying the festivities of the capitol. We spent many pleasant hours, during leisure afternoons, hearing Colonels Sanders, Beidler, Howie, Hall and others fight over again the desperate battles they had had to give in order to make safe the victory over organized crime. Finally New Year’s morning dawned upon the little mountain capitol, and it was by general consent laid out as a field day of frolic. A party comprising the heads of church and state—Bishop (Tuttle), chief executive (Governor Green Clay Smith), Chief Justice (Hosmer), secretary, (Marshal), Professor (Eaton, geological expert), and some others of us who classed as high privates—started out to inaugurate New Year calls. We naturally enough first paid our respects to the family of one of the distinguished officials, and found that our call was not expected. A huge bowl of foaming egg-nogg was set out on the center-table; and we were made welcome, and accepted accordingly. We spent all of sin hour with the fair hostess, when the professor decided, from the confusion of tongues, that an analysis of the beverage was a necessity; and, after a careful and scientific investigation, he reported that the egg-nogg consisted of three gallons of whisky, one egg and a little cream. I can vouch for the bishop retiring in as good order as he came; but of the others, including the writer, it is necessary to speak. There was some inexplicable confusion in fitting our hats as we started, but it may be explained by the very thin air of the mountains flying to our heads. We did not get over half the city until the walking became very hard for our party, owing to the condition of the streets and other causes; and it was found impossible to conclude our calls on foot. A few inches of snow had fallen the day before, and Colonel Beidler, always ready for an emergency, called out a fourhorse team and sled, in which we completed the New Years calls. It was not so difficult to get from house to house, but it was very tedious and tiresome getting in and out of the sleigh so often—so much so, indeed, that several of the party turned up missing on final roll-call. We had many a song and many a speech and the jingling glasses told of the gushing hospitality that welcomed the party at every house. The chief justice gave a story and a song and was gravely lectured because there was no baby in the house. Neither host, nor hostess, nor distinguished guest, received the lavish compliments of the season that were given to the future statesmen and mothers of the mountains, now boasting of swaddling clothes. One not yet a week old received the homage of the distinguished party, as the nurse guarded the cradle with mingled devotion and pride. Several were christened in the round—not by the bishop in an official way, but in most instances with biblical names. At last the team was brought up before the hall used by the house of representatives. Colonel Beidler was sitting with the driver, and, with a merry twinkle of the eye, he said "Fun ahead, boys; let's have a hand in it;” and he called our attention to a rude placard on the door, stating that a sparring match would come
P a g e 7 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r off at about that time. “All hands come in,” said the colonel; and he looked especially for the bishop. "Just a little fun in the manly art,” he added; but the bishop pleaded an engagement, and, with a kind farewell, he left us. The legislature had adjourned and the hall of the house had been converted into a regular ring; the floor was covered with several inches of sawdust, a circle of rude board seats had been thrown around the ring, and what I supposed to be a sparring-match was to be exhibited at the moderate price of one dollar a head. "It’s to be a square fight, and there will be fun,” said Beidler; but still I did not comprehend the entertainment to which we were Invited. After the Orem and Dwyer fight, the legislature had passed a law forbidding public exhibitions of the manly art, unless the contestants wore gloves—intending, of course, that the heavily-padded boxing gloves should be used. Upon entering the hall there was every indication of serious business on hand. A ring some fifteen feet in diameter was formed and in it were four men. In one corner was Con Orem, stripped to his undershirt, with an assortment of bottles, sponges, etc.; and by his side was sitting a little, smooth-faced fellow, Photo: Richard O. Hickman General Merchandise building and the Pony Saloon, Virginia City, Montana, 1885. Photographer unidentified, courtesy of MHS Legacy Photograph Collection, www.mtmemory.org wrapped in a blanket, looking like anything else than a hero of the prize-ring. He answered to the name of “Teddy,” although Englishborn, and weighed one hundred and twenty-four pounds. In the opposite corner was a sluggish-looking Hibernian, probably ten pounds heavier than Teddy, but evidently lacking the action of his opponent. With him was also his second. He was placarded as "The Michigan Chick.” and they had met to have a square battle, according to the rules of the ring, for one hundred dollars a side. Both had thin, close-fitting gloves on and they were to fight in that way to bring themselves within the letter of the law. Packed in the hall were over one hundred of the roughs of the mines, and I confess that I did not feel comfortable as I surveyed the desperate countenances and the glistening revolvers with which I was surrounded. Regarding discretion as the better part of valor, I suggested to Colonel Beidler that we had better retire, but he would not entertain the proposition at all. “Stay close by me, and there’s no danger,” was his reply. I had seen almost every phase of mountain-life but a fight, and I concluded that I would see it out and take the chances of getting away alive. My old friend, Con Orem, who was to second Teddy, gave me a comfortable seat close by his corner, and reminded me that I was about to witness a most artistic exhibition of the manly art. A distinguished military gentleman was chosen umpire, and in a few minutes he called “time.” Instantly Teddy and Chick flung off their blankets and stood up in fighting trim—naked to the waist and clad only in woolen drawers and light shoes. Teddy stripped as delicately as a woman. His skin was soft and fair, and his waist was exceedingly slender, but he had a full chest, and when he threw out his arms on guard he displayed a degree of muscle that indicated no easy victory for his opponent. "Chick” was leaner, but had superfluous flesh, and was evidently quite young, as manifest when he put himself in position for action. He betrayed evident timidity, and was heavy in his movements, but he seemed to have the physical pow
P a g e 8 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r er to crush his foe with one stroke if he could only get it fairly home upon him. They advanced to the center when time was called, and shook hands with a grim smile that was mutual, and the fight commenced. Both fought shy for a considerable time and Teddy soon gave evidence of superior tact and training generally. “If he only has the endurance to protract the fight, he will lam the Chick certain, you bet,” said Orem, while he was bathing his principal after the first harmless round. And he was right. Fifty rounds were fought, and fully an hour had been employed in mauling each other’s mugs, when both showed evident symptoms of grief, and would have been glad to call it a draw; but considerable money was staked, and their reputation as professional pugilists was involved, and they had to go through until one or the other was vanquished. Soon after, the Chick got in a fearful blow on Teddy, and as he reeled to his corner the crowd evidently believed the fight to be ended. The odds had been bet on Teddy, and a rush was made into the ring to break up the fight in a general row, so that the bets might be declared off; and instantly fifty pistols clicked and were drawn, most of which seemed to be pointed directly at me. I could not get out, and could not dodge; so I had to nerve myself to face the consequences. Colonel Beidler at once sprang into the ring, drew his revolvers, and declared that he would kill the first man that attempted to interfere with the fight. All well understood that when Beidler's pistol was drawn it meant business. and the ring was almost instantly cleared, leaving him standing alone in the center. “Boys.” said he. “this must be a fair fight. Go on with the show!” and time was promptly called again. It was perhaps fortunate for Teddy that the interruption occurred; for it gave him considerable time to recover from the serious blow he had received, and he came up to the scratch smiling again, but fought thereafter with the greatest care, striking out only when he considered the blow certain to tell. I noticed he struck the Chick seventeen times on the right eye in seven rounds (the fight was under London prize ring rules and every knock-down meant the end of a round) —when he commenced pounding the left optic. Chick generally closed because of his superior strength, and took Teddy in chancery frequently, but often with more cost to his own ribs than to Teddy's mug. Finally, after a fight of one hour and forty-two minutes, embracing sixty-seven rounds, Teddy got in a terrible blow over Chick's heart, and sent him spinning to his corner like a top. The sponge was at once thrown up, and Teddy was victor. I went to Chick’s corner and found him in a most distressed condition. His face was battered almost into jelly, one eye was entirely closed and the other nearly shut. The gloves had prevented the skin from being cut, and he was forced to seek relief at once by the free use of the lance to get the blood from his face. His nostrils were closed with clotted blood and his mouth was full of dark thick blood. “I am too young,” he said. “I should have known better. But I will whip him yet," was his remark, as he was led away by friends. The crowd at once dispersed peaceably, and that night Teddy was the lion of the theater, and participated in numerous drinks in honor of himself at the “Pony” between acts. An elegant reunion supper at the Planters’ was the next entertainment, and both wine and wit sparkled freely as we partook of the grateful mountain repast. His excellency, Governor Green Clay Smith, presided, and each in turn spoke as his humor prompted. Several brilliant open door parties closed the festivi
P a g e 9 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r ties of New Year’s day, and none could complain that there had not been a general recognition of the Christmas holidays in the mountains. –This article appeared in the Ronan Pioneer, Dec. 22, 1922, Accessed via: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/ Christmas in Butte 1876 Godey's Lady's Book and Magazine, 1876, offered suggestions for tree decorating and included this engraving to illustrate. Butte was still a crude mining camp built around mining claims at Christmas in 1876. It was customary to salute the dawn of Christmas Day with firecrackers, tying them in packages and hanging them on the telegraph poles. In the aftermath, Park Street and Broadway were littered with bits of paper from the explosions. Then on Christmas night, families gathered at Loeber Hall on Broadway. A play had been presented weeks before raising $170 to pay for the party. The tree was brilliantly lit with candles and a committee of ladies had spared no expense in its decoration. But, according to the Butte Miner, some “croakers” complained that the base of the tree was left unfinished, and it would have been better had the ladies added some moss or other decoration. All agreed, however, that the tree was spectacular. The ladies carefully chose gifts for each of the children sparing no expense. Some community members also sent gifts. All were hung on the tree as was the custom. Stockings made out of mosquito netting were filled with apples—a rare and a very special treat—along with popcorn, candies, and nuts for all children ages two to thirteen. Young ladies who had reached the age of 14 had reason to wish they were children again, reported the Miner. William Porter played St. Nicholas, dressed in a buffalo overcoat, buffalo shoes, and a buffalo cap with long white whiskers and jingling bells. He distributed the gifts, but unfortunately, not all the gifts went to those for whom they were intended. Some of the gifts were taken off the tree by persons unknown before St. Nick could hand them out. This caused some hard feelings, and a dance planned for parents and friends unfortunately never materialized. Children, however, were unaware of others’ bad behavior and went to bed happy as Christmas 1876 passed to become a pleasant memory. -Ellen Baumler Ellen Baumler was an award-winning author and Montana historian. A master at linking history with modern-day supernatural events, Ellen's true stories have delighted audiences across the state. The legacy she left behind will be felt for generations to come and we are in debt to her for sharing her extensive knowledge of Montana history in such an entertaining manner. To view and purchase Ellen’s books, visit: http:// ellenbaumler.blogspot.com/p/my-books.html Would you like to receive our digital quarterly magazine for free? Just send an email with MAGAZINE in the subject to ghosttownsofmontana@gmail.com
P a g e 10 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Christmas in Helena 1884 One of the coldest holidays on record in Montana was that of 1884 when temperatures dipped to 30 degrees below zero. That Christmas Eve there was a foot of new snow as some fifty children assembled at the Episcopal Church at Grand and Warren in Helena. They stood in awe of the Christmas tree decorated with ripe, golden fruit. With mouths watering, they anticipated distribution of the rare, precious treats. As Benjamin Benson arrived at the church late, he smelled smoke and saw telltale signs curling out the windows. Benson ushered the children to safety in a storefront at the Brown Block. The alarm sounded. Firemen came quickly with their hose carriage and the steamer named “City of Helena.” Firemen took water from a cistern at Fifth and Warren and pumped it through two hundred feet of hose. Although ice soon coated the firemen, the water miraculously did not freeze in the hose. The church was insured, but the Christmas tree with its delectable decorations was a total loss and the children were disappointed. Christmas dinners at local eateries, however, were not a disappointment. At the Cosmopolitan Hotel, a grand Christmas tree sparkled and bouquets adorned the festive tables. The International Hotel served many who preferred the chef's traditional meal rather than one at home. The Bon Ton restaurant served the most expensive dinner adding quail and woodcock to traditional fare. And at Mrs. Norris' exclusive boarding house, guests enjoyed a Christmas feast finished with luxurious ice cream. But it was a tiny private restaurant that won the highest praise. The Nagle sisters at Porter Flats on Ewing Street—the first large apartment building in Helena with fully equipped kitchens in every unit—served the most impressive meal. The Herald praised everything from the oyster soup, roast turkey, and mashed potatoes to Philadelphia ice cream and Java coffee. The Nagle sisters, said the reporter, “made us think that our lot was cast in pleasant places when we put our legs under their mahogany table for our Christmas dinner of 1884." May your Christmas be just as pleasant. –Ellen Baumler This map shows the location of the Episcopal Church (center). Library of Congress, American Memory Map Collection. Ellen Baumler was an award-winning author and Montana historian. A master at linking history with modern-day supernatural events, Ellen's true stories have delighted audiences across the state. The legacy she left behind will be felt for generations to come and we are in debt to her for sharing her extensive knowledge of Montana history in such an entertaining manner. To view and purchase Ellen’s books, visit: http:// ellenbaumler.blogspot.com/p/my-books.html My/Donor Information: SUBSCRIBE TO THE GHOST TOWNS AND HISTORY OF MONTANA NEWSLETTER! Renewal? Y/N Send a Gift to: NAME____________________________________ NAME___________________________________ ADDRESS__________________________________ ADDRESS_________________________________ CITY______________________________________ CITY_____________________________________ STATE__________________ZIP________________STATE_________________ ZIP________________ Yearly subscriptions are $19.95 (published monthly). Please make checks payable to Ghost Towns & History of MT, LLC and send with this clipping to 99 Lampert Ranch DR, Anaconda, MT 59711
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