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MAY 2022 Ghost Towns and History of Montana Newsletter From the Daily Missoulian, May 23, 1913 HISTORIC ALTA RANGER STATION In 1891, responding to the depletion of public ranges and timber lands and to the degradation of water resources by erosion, Congress passed the General Land Law Revision Act authorizing the President to establish forest reserves on public lands. By 1893, 13 million acres had been reserved in seven western states and Alaska. On February 22, 1897, President Grover Cleveland established thirteen new reserves, including the first Montana reserves--the Flathead Reserve in northwestern Montana and the Bitterroot Reserve in western Montana and northern Idaho. These early reserves were administered by the General Land Office (GLO) in the Department of the Interior. The role of the GLO's forest rangers was primarily to prevent timber theft and illegal grazing on public land. Accessed via: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov Faced with the responsibility of patrolling thousands of acres in the Bitterroot Reserve, rangers Nathaniel E. "Than" Wilkerson and Henry C. Tuttle built a small cabin on Hughes Creek to serve as a ranger station. The Hughes Creek area was at that time the site of a small but active mining district. Using a horse borrowed from miner Pete Bennett, the rangers cut and skidded their own logs and spent their own money to purchase "hinges, nails, a window, and flag to fly over the building." The one-room cabin measured 13 x 15 feet, with V-notched corners and a sod roof. Completed in two weeks time, Alta Ranger Station was officially dedicated on

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 July 4, 1899. It was used by GLO rangers until 1904, when a survey revealed that the cabin stood on Pete Bennett's mining claim rather than forest reserve land, and the cabin was abandoned by the government. In February 1905, administration of the forest reserves was transferred from the General Land Office to the Bureau of Forestry in the Department of Agriculture. Later that year the Bureau became the United States Forest Service. In March 1907, the federal forest reserves were reorganized and renamed national forests. The boundaries of the old Bitterroot Reserve were reconfigured to create the Bitterroot National Forest and portions of the Lolo and Selway Forests. Recognizing the significance of Alta Ranger Station in the history of the national forest system, the Hamilton Lions Club purchased the site from Pete Bennett's daughter in 1941 and donated it to the Forest Service. Although documentation is difficult, the cabin is probably the oldest surviving building associated with federal forest management. (That claim has been made for two other historic ranger stations. However, the Langhor Ranger Station on the Gallatin National Forest was constructed a month later than Alta, in July 1899, and the Wapiti Ranger Station near Cody, Wyoming was not built until 1901.) Prior to 1999, the cabin had been restored at least three times, in 1941, 1952, and 1974. None of the original roof survived and some changes were made to the cabin while in private ownership, however the cabin's historic door and log walls remain intact. In December 1974, Alta Ranger Station was officially listed on the National Register of Historic Places. In 1999, Alta underwent another restoration in preparation for its centennial celebration. The cabin's sod roof was in serious need of repair. Not only had time and the weather taken its toll, but in 1998 a summer storm felled a large Douglas fir next to the cabin. Its limbs struck and damaged the rear portion of the roof. In June 1999, a Forest Service preservation specialist and a crew of Forest Service employees removed and rebuilt the cabin roof. Although the visual appearance is identical to the original roof, the restored roof contains two hidden components to improve durability and drainage. A synthetic membrane (EPDM) underlies the sod, preventing water from soaking into the roof supports and planking. The water runs down the roof over the membrane to the eaves, where gravel "French drains" were installed to assist with drainage and prevent water pooling against the retaining logs and fascia. The restoration work was completed in time for Alta's centennial observance on July 1. Forest Service employees, West Fork neighbors and visitors all joined with relatives of Than Wilkerson to celebrate the little ranger station's first century with an old-fashioned cake-and-lemonade party. Overhead flew a 45-star American flag, just like the one Than Wilkerson and Hank Tuttle bought with their own money 100 years before.

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 On July 31, 2000, a line of dry-lightning storms swept across the tinder-dry southern portion of the Bitterroot National Forest, igniting more than 90 wildfires. Within the next two weeks, more than 300,000 of the Forest's 1.6 million acres were ablaze. The fires threatened dozens of the Forest's historic structures, including Alta Ranger Station. As a precaution, the cabin's sod roof and dirt floor were soaked with water. Forest Service employees and volunteers then wrapped the cabin in a silver fire-retardant fabric, secured with aluminized flue tape, staples and roofing nails. The apron of the wrap was held to the ground with washed gravel, and all vegetation was removed from the area immediately surrounding the foundation. Similar measures were taken at Magruder Ranger Station, Cooper's Flat Cabin, McCart Lookout, and other historic buildings on the Forest. Although the non-historic (1960s) Sula Peak lookout burned, and dozens of historic wooden structural ruins and cabin remnants were destroyed, none of the Forest's National Register-eligible buildings were destroyed or damaged during the 2000 fires. Alta's place in the sentiments of Forest Service employees was obvious when, after the danger subsided in September, a Smokejumper crew requested the "honor" of unwrapping Alta and raising the American flag over the cabin once more. Alta is unusual among the Bitterroot National Forest's historic buildings since it is neither an active administrative site or recreational facility. Visitors to Alta today see a building that is essentially a "museum piece" - what some folks might call a "ghost cabin." It looks much as it did when the Lions' Club donated the abandoned building to the Forest Service in 1941. Alta is actively maintained to preservation standards, ensuring that it does not deteriorate. Its windows and frames were restored in 2003, and the foundation and sill logs were replaced in 2009. Additional work is planned to preserve the hundreds of signatures on the interior walls, dating back to 1899, and including men prominent in early Forest Service history such as Maj. Frank Fenn and early ranger Charlie Powell. Groundskeeping is performed by volunteers Mike and Terry Tietge. Terry is the grand-niece of Hank Tuttle who, along with fellow ranger Than Wilkerson, built the Alta cabin in 1899. There are no plans to restore the cabin to a "brand-new" 1899 appearance. Standing just as it is, the silent little cabin speaks volumes about the early days of our national forest and the people who lived and worked here. -Courtesy of Bitterroot National Forest and USDA A BIG THANK YOU TO OUR PATREON SUPPORTERS! Helen L. Reitz, Arlis Vannett, Jody Gryder, Janice Petritz, Val Parkin and Doug Reimer!! If you’d like to help us out by becoming a patron, visit us here: https://www.patreon.com/ ghosttownsandhistoryofmontana You’ll receive exclusive benefits while helping us to continue sharing history! WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE YOUR AD HERE? Reach thousands of readers at very reasonable prices! Email us at: ghosttownsofmontana@gmail.com to appear in our next issue!

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 Cornue Homestead Part 2 Here is the 2nd and final part of the Cornue story. My photographs for this portion are from my August 2015 visit to Montana. In several of the photographs you will see an old John Deere tractor. This tractor was in the field during my first visit to the homestead and I really don’t know how I missed seeing it back then. I think I was too busy with the Model-T Ford and the old wagon. On this 2015 visit the Ford body was gone. That area of the homestead had been cleaned up and planted with hay. I was sorry to see that the old car was gone. And if anyone is wondering if us photographers entered into any of these old buildings? The answer would be YES, almost every one of them. Here now is Part 2: Photo by Shawn Shawhan Photo by Shawn Shawhan “In 1912 about the only kind of recreation in the homestead country was the neighborhood dance. If someone had a cabin 12 feet by 25 feet, it was large enough to have a dance in. The bed was taken down (there was usually only one room) and put outside as well as other furniture - which wasn't much. The news of the affair was spread by grapevine and they did a good job, too, as all came within a radius of fifteen miles. The young people came by horseback, but young married folks with small children hitched the team to the buggy or the farm wagon and stopped along the way to pick up the neighbors.” “It was understood that each lady took a cake or sandwiches for lunch, and the bachelors provided the coffee. The cabin was lighted by kerosene lamps. Early in the evening, the men stood around outside and exchanged local gossip and within the house the women did the same.” “When the fiddler arrived, they began to tune up and the boys came inside to claim their partners. People were isolated, so this get-together was really an occasion. We had no cars, electric power, or telephones. Thus everyone entered into this dance wholeheartedly. It was democratic. The girls danced with whomsoever asked them whether sixteen or sixty, saint or sinner. There were no strangers. Some boys wore hobnailed shoes, some chaps, some dress suits, some overalls — dress made no difference. Every girl was a lady, and due respect was paid to her.” “Buffalo Gal, Comin' Through the Rye, and Skip to my Lou were favorite tunes and when the fiddler struck up a square dance tune, the rafters nearly came down. Photo by Shawn Shawhan

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 The bashful boys limbered up and came in, too, to swing the girls off their feet amidst happy laughter and friendly banter. Sometimes the couples got all mixed and then that caused even more fun.” “About ten o'clock the children got sleepy, and as they dropped off one by one, the mothers put them on the floor close to the wall of the room or under the chairs; or if the dance was in a schoolhouse they pushed the desks against the walls and put the children to bed on them. They were covered up very carefully with coats. A scene of this kind is described much better in Owen Wister's The Virginian.” “At midnight, lunch was served which was washed down with coffee strong enough to float a horseshoe. The musicians rested for a while, then were playing again until daylight. There was reason for this long dance session. There were few fences and very few trails, so it was unsafe to go home before daylight. An experience of being lost on the prairie was not one to be sought after.” Photo by Shawn Shawhan This is Mrs. Cornue's description of the winter of 1919-1920. “The wheat crop was a complete failure; there was not enough to cut for winter hay. At that time all the homesteaders had a few cattle and horses, which were the only source of income.” “A heavy snow fell in October which did not all melt until April. In January there were several feet on the level, so stock could not get even sagebrush to eat. Everyone was out of feed. Stock became poorer and poorer. The ranchers had to go to the railroad in Winnett to buy hay which would come in on the train at uncertain times.” “Harvey would start with his four-horse team at 5:00 a.m. Sometimes the thermometer stood at 25 degrees below zero. Snow was so deep that he would have to shovel snow for several rods in order to get the wagon through. Then when they arrived in town, the train would be late and they would load: they never got home until almost midnight.” “We wives would be home alone worrying for fear something had happened, then rejoicing when we finally heard the rattling of the wagon up the road. Sometimes he would be gone all day and come home without hay. As there was not enough to go around. That meant that the cattle would be hungrier and would bawl around. Some got so weak that they had to be pulled up by the tail. Hundreds died. The prairies were dotted with dead animals.” “People near creeks cut down trees so the animals could eat the tender brush and buds. In the spring. The losses were so great that many homesteaders loaded their few household goods on a wagon and left, for I do not know where, but I hope it was to better places. Others, like ourselves, would have left as paupers: but all we had was invested here, so we stayed and finally became fairly successful financially. Not all years were bad.” -Courtesy of Shawn Shawhan, Check out more of his beautiful photos at: https:// abyssart.smugmug.com/?fbclid=IwAR0g5qKKbL9fGEjGeQOfnoe7G6IIxGIYn298nyBvXDiHu36eR34AqgCzA4

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 MINERS FACED ROUGH TIMES IN EARLY AMERICAN WEST BOZEMAN -- Miners in the early days of the American West faced many dangers, but desperate times drove them to the job, according to speakers at Montana State University's latest conference on Medical History of the West. Some miners were injured in explosions or electrocuted. Others fell off ladders, slipped on rocks, inhaled silica dust, or suffered from mercury, lead or arsenic poisoning. Many got sick from drinking dirty water and living too close together. Miners faced immediate dangers, as well as health problems that developed over time. Improved technology increased production, but added new risks. So why become a miner? "When you consider the options of that time, whether it was sea faring, coal mining, working in a steel mill or railroading, your choice of dangers was relativistic," said Pierce Mullen, professor emeritus of history at MSU and one of the organizers of the conference, "Mining and Medicine: Drills, Dynamite, Dust and Disease." Workers after the Civil War saw their incomes flatten during business cycles that reflected the world's economy, Mullen added. Severe depressions during the 1870s and 1890s left hundreds of thousands of workers without work for a year or more. "People will do it (mine) if they are desperate enough," Mullen said. "Out here in the West, at first, they didn't seem to worry much about the dangers. A lot of things were dangerous." Frederic Quivik, a consulting historian of technology, noted that mining in the United States didn't start in the West. People along the Atlantic Seaboard were already mining copper and iron during Colonial times. Westward expansion brought lead mining to the Mississippi Valley. Mining in the American West began with the California Gold Rush of 1848 and spread to Nevada, Arizona, Idaho and Montana. A former Butte resident, Quivik has researched and written extensively about the environmental history of the copper industry in Butte and Anaconda. Besides his consultant work, he is an adjunct instructor at the University of Pennsylvania. Gold and silver lured prospectors to the West, Quivik said. Once here, they discovered other metals like copper, lead and zinc and non-metallic minerals like asbestos, talc and borax.

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 Mullen added, "Mining has always had this glittery Powerball mentality. You can strike it rich, even if your chances aren't good." Quivik said some early miners used a series of ladders that descended hundreds of feet into the ground. At the end of the day, when the miners were tired, not everyone made it to the top successfully. Hoists and open cages replaced ladders, but miners sometimes fell or banged into jutting rocks. Power drills and electric lights were advancements that also carried risks, Quivik said. Power drills created more dust, so miners who inhaled too much silica developed the chronic lung disease called silicosis. Many miners were electrocuted after electric lights were installed in underground mines. Other conference speakers discussed the Anaconda smelter and human health and the treatment of miners at the Galen Sanitarium. Brett Walker, head of the Department of History and Philosophy at MSU, compared mining in the West with the Kamioka Mine in Japan. Quivik looked at litigation in the early 1900s involving the Anaconda smelter. The conference ended with a discussion of mining in Libby. The April 24 conference was held at MSU's Museum of the Rockies. It was sponsored by the Volney Steele Endowment for the Study of Medical History, the WWAMI medical education program, MSU's Department of History and Philosophy and the Museum of the Rockies. –Evelyn Boswell, (406) 994-5135 or evelynb@montana.edu, Courtesy of https://www.montana.edu/news Photo by Jolene Ewert-Hintz Helena, MT- Fire Tower. The welfare of the community depended upon this prominent landmark, strategically placed atop the town's most prominent hill. Fire was the grim reaper that stalked all western mining camps, and Last Chance Gulch was no exception. Hastily built log cabins, crowded together along the streets, created a constant hazard. In the mining camp at Last Chance, wind whipping through the gulch was an added danger. The wind could carry burning embers to distant neighborhoods; every miner's cabin had a fire bucket hanging within easy reach. Citizens organized a warning system and built the first fire tower here in 1868. Volunteers took turns scanning the gulch for wisps of smoke where none should be. Ironically, fire destroyed the first tower. This structure, constructed using millwright techniques of beams bolted together, took its place in 1874. The city added a guardroom and bell in 1886. For many years the bell rang the evening curfew for Helena's youngsters. The "Guardian of the Gulch" served the community for nearly seventy years and has become a symbol of Helena's early history and resilient citizens. -National Register of Historic Places in Cooperation with www.mtmemory.org

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 Charity Dillon Priscilla Jane Allen is not the name she left behind when she died. She is known to posterity as Charity Jane Dillon, and her grave, high above Canyon Ferry Lake, is perhaps the most visited site in Broadwater County. There are several accounts of her life and death, but the common threads recount how this young woman came west, alone and on horseback looking for her errant lover. She came to Diamond City, twenty miles northeast of present-day Townsend, in the mid-1860s and eventually found him happily married to another woman and the father of several children. She kept her true identity and heartbreak to herself, and never revealed the man’s name. Under the assumed name of Jane Dillon, she settled near a spring on the stagecoach road between Hog ‘Em and Radersburg where she built a log cabin inn. The inn was not an overnight hostelry but rather a place where travelers could stop and have a drink or a meal. The hospitality of this half-way house was well known. Some old timers claim that she was called Charity because of her kindly acts, but others believe that her name came from the inn’s geographic location near Charity Gulch. In 1872, passersby found Charity Dillon dead in her bed, a bottle whiskey hidden underneath. While some conclude that she died an alcoholic, she may have simply stored the whiskey—which she kept for customers—there for safekeeping. Others believe she died of ptomaine poisoning from contaminated canned goods, a fairly common occurrence. Still others insist that Charity Dillon died of a broken heart. Whatever the cause, it is this poignant mystery that brings visitors to her grave. –Ellen Baumler Ellen Baumler is 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. She lives in Helena in a century-old house with her husband, Mark, and its resident spirits. 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 P.O. Box 932 Anaconda, MT 59711

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