'Big Murph' and the Madam

G. GEORGE OSTROM / For the Hungry Horse News

It suddenly dawned on me last Saturday, I never really knew much background of many young men I served with 55 years ago. That fact hit me during an unusual gathering of old smokejumpers in Polson at the home of Bob Gorsuch. Until he called a few weeks back, for all I knew, Bob and his brother Lee, like other long ago friends, had left for the big Jump Zone in the Sky.

Got to talking with Jack Dunne and asked what he did prior to joining the Jumpers? He said, "George, before that, I was a tailgunner on a B-17."

"Jack," I replied, "that is a lousy line of work." He leaned forward in his chair, "Now you tell me." So it went last Saturday! Eight of us showed for 'silk stories' and 'remembering." Four wives there soon decided they'd be better off at the far end of the patio. Aiding that decision was the fact none of those well-matured guys hear well, so stories were told at high volume, with even louder repetitions. There were no "bad" words used but some of the tales involved activity a bit on the wild side.

Will explain by giving an example. Naturally, there were yarns and fond recollections about buddies who are no longer here. Everyone had a story about "wilder" characters. I confessed to them that when telling Smokejumper stories to others I make it clear, "I was one of the few nearly normal." That caused a couple of chortles. One incident I recalled, involved a fella we'll call "Big Murph."

Murph was one of many who got into the Jumpers by somehow getting around the 180-pound maximum weight limit. He was broad shouldered, handsome, seemed shy, quick to smile and became a foreman. Murph liked girls but only married one, for a short time. Back to the yarn, 16 of us went to Cave Junction, Ore., one summer because Region 1 had few fires but things were busy in Oregon and Northern California. We flew from Missoula, barely making it into Cave Junction because of smoke.

After supper, "Junction Jumpers' invited us to join them for a cold beer. Not wanting to hurt their feelings, we Missoula boys said, "OK." A short walk took us to a village bar with lively social atmosphere. Couldn't miss a big attractive woman with long, black hair and fancy red dress presiding over a table near the dance floor. After getting seats and an order, one of the Junction boys said he wanted me the meet "Bertha." Went over and she extended a ringless hand. As we started to shake, Bertha suddenly tightened her grip and gave my arm a yank that was unbelievable, my shoulder felt dislocated … hat flew off. Had no idea any woman could be that strong. Meeting the "Town Madam" was apparently a popular event because everyone except me, was applauding and laughing their heads off.

A week later, new fires were showing so we got more jumpers from Missoula. Big Murph was their leader and that evening, the locals decided to take him to their favorite recreation area. On the way I got Murph off to the side and clued him in on the handshake deal. He didn't say anything, just nodded and kept walking.

We got a table near Bertha's and it was soon time for "the introduction." I could hardly wait. Noticed Bertha seemed impressed by the size of her soon-to-be friend and it seemed she took extra preparations in setting her feet and tensing up … then came the meeting. Bertha put everything she had into gripping Murph's hand and jerked with all her might. That effort wrenched her shoulder and yanked her from the chair. To this day, I don't think Murph's hand moved an inch. Bertha's irresistible force had met an immovable object. She was not embarrassed. She was madly … in love.

Wish I could have taken notes at Bob's house last Saturday. There were wonderful stories. Several topped this one. Darn it!

G. George Ostrom is a Kalispell resident and a national award-winning Hungry Horse News columnist.