Sunday, December 22, 2024
43.0°F

Hundred year beer can

by G. Geroge Ostrom
| June 29, 2006 11:00 PM

Do you believe an aluminum beer can could lay beside the road for a hundred years?

Well it can…unless someone picks it up.

While my oldest son Shannon was a Park Ranger, he gave me a list that tells how long it takes for various materials to decay:

1. Fecal matter-one to four months. 2. Paper-two to five months. 3. Orange peels-six months. 4. Milk carton (cardboard)-five months. 5. Filter tip cig butts-10 to 12 years. 6. Plastic bags-10 to 20 years. 7. Leather shoes-25 to 40 years. 8. Nylon cloth-30 to 40 years. 9. Plastic containers-50 to 80 years. 10. Aluminum-80 to 100 years. 11. Styrofoam-never.

WHO? WHO? Are the absolutely clueless slobs who throw out tons of litter along our highways and byways each year?

We know who the thoughtful citizens are who go out there several times a year and pick up after the pigs. Their organization names are posted in the sections where they have volunteered to clean. It is difficult to understand how members of the same human society can be so utterly different? How can we have one group so low they discard their garbage out car windows, while we have others who give up precious personal time to walk the ditches picking up behind the thoughtless.

(If you know a slop, cut this out for him or her)

Someplace…east of the Flathead River near Montford, there lie the remains of some early pioneers in unmarked, abandoned graves. Their last resting place was called "Grave Yard Hill" when it was set aside by a one of the settlers whose name was John Jones. In the days before the turn of the century, folks wanted their buryin' grounds handy because traveling far for a funeral meant too much of a time loss from the business of making a living, and life was sort of precarious. Thus it was that John didn't have much trouble convincing his neighbors about establishing a cemetery.

Not long after getting space laid out on Grave Yard Hill, John spotted a coyote in the nearby woods. Hurriedly getting his rifle from the cabin, he accidentally hit the hammer against a door jam and was shot through the head.

John Jones was the first person buried on Grave Yard Hill.

Many old time cemeteries were called "Boot Hill." There are several in Montana, including the most famous one at Virginia City where vigilantes planted the likes of Boone Helm, Frank Gallager, and other murderers, robbers, and low down "hoss theeves."

The only "Boot Hill" I've read of in Northwest Montana was located near St. Regis. One of the more literate pioneers recorded the people buried there:

"Mrs. William Randall-Suicide; Mrs. Caddle L. Dillingham-Suicide; Uncle Joe Watson-Alcoholic, Negro man-otherwise unknown; Man who fell off cliff at St. Lawrence Mine-unknown; Mr. Dagget-died of heart failure while carrying mail through a storm to Mullan, Idaho; One fat, alcoholic piano player-He was wearing a pair of such high quality rubber footwear that the new overshoes were removed before the body was covered up." (History does not record who got the new overshoes.)

Some time in the past I've told here about the first man to be put in the brand new county jail in Kalispell around 1910. (The stone jail still standing but not used) That inaugural prisoner was Slim Link. Not overly thrilled with being put in the new jail, Link tore up some plumbing and flooded the place, whereupon the Sheriff asked Slim's buddy Chance Bebe, to please take Slim out of town…"far out of town." Slim was later eaten by grizzly bears while poaching furs just north of the Canadian Border in the North Fork.

Talking about jails, the first fairly substantial one in the Flathead Valley was constructed at Demersville and one of the major workers on that building was the town blacksmith and part-time carpenter, Jack Shepard. During construction, "Old Man Foy's" son Leslie Foy, came by carrying the mail from the first post office at Salish up to Ashley. Leslie told Shepard he was making a mistake in helping to build a jail. When the building was done, Shepard took his pay and spent it all on whiskey, tore up a saloon, and became the first inmate.

*(Note: I am indebted for some of the above historical facts to my friend, Carl O'Neil who has saved many precious tales from the writings and old records of early Flathead county pioneers.)