By SUZANNE MILLER
Dad’s ritual of making the entire family get out of the car and kiss the ground every time we re-entered Montana after a trip seemed fun and daring when I was about six. I loved watching the passersby whip their heads around to catch a glimpse of us knelt over on the side of the road as they sped by in their cars. But, what is fun at six is down right embarrassing at ten, and undoable at thirteen. Dad would go on about how much greener it was on the Montana side, how much clearer the air was, how much bigger the fish were–little did I realize, I was actually letting his love of our home sink deep into my own skin.
Where did my connection with horses, the outdoors, and my home state begin? My deep Montana roots follow my family tree –both my mother’s and my dad’s – but not in equal measure. In all honesty, it was my dad who had the biggest impact on who I have become. His unbreakable bond with Montana, his natural, gentle way with animals, and his keen interest in science were my guiding forces.
Dad worked for forty-five years as a ventilation engineer for the Anaconda Company in Butte, Montana. Most of that time was spent underground, in the bowels of the hard rock mines of the Richest Hill on Earth. It was his job to ensure that the miners had air to breathe while toiling in the dark, nearly a mile below the surface.
Montana’s mountains and streams were Dad’s weekend escape from those dark tunnels. We drove and hiked the mountain roads and trails and we knew all the spots that would yield worms for our hooks to catch a trout dinner. Every time I drive my six-horse trailer along a steep and narrow mountain road, I thank my dad for the comfort and confidence I feel in such surroundings.
Those years in the mines took a heavy toll on my father’s health, especially on his lungs. As he approached 70, he was told to seek a lower elevation to give his lungs the benefit of more oxygen. So it was that he and my mother moved to the Washington coast.
For Christmas their first year away, I had a friend make a sign in the shape of Montana, inscribed with the words, “Bill and Phyllis Goodman – Misplaced Montanans.” It hung above their door for some twelve years.
About the time Dad’s descent into Alzheimers was making it impossible for my mother to care for him alone, my husband and I qualified for retirement from our jobs in Alaska. Our children were still young enough to be easily moved without disrupting their lives, so we decided it was time to move back to Montana.
After getting the children settled and enrolled in school, I drove to Washington, took down the sign, and brought my parents back to Montana. As we drove east on I-90, I stopped near the border at Lookout Pass to let Dad feel the immense pleasure of coming home, once again. No longer able to kneel and kiss the ground, both my father and mother lingered for a while, staring into Montana, and then they bowed. It was my father’s last crossing of the border.
His mind did not always understand that he was actually living in Montana again. He would often say to me “Look, SuzAnne, at all the Montana license plates. Isn’t it wonderful!” Even if his mind did not know, his spirit did, and he was happy to be back. So am I.
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SuzAnne Miller is the owner of Dunrovin Ranch, a small guest ranch nestled against the Bitterroot River and the Sapphire Mountains, south of Missoula. She shares her home with her husband of 42 years, 2 sons, 20 equines, 2 or 3 dogs, the resident wildlife, and anyone looking for high adventure.
Very beautiful-and touching SuzAnne!
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Excellent job. Love it SuzAnne.
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Beautiful SuzAnne !!
I too am always glad to be back in MT. Going over to visit the folks this week and will pass the top of Mullan pictured above. And while I will be glad to be back (even though temporary), the top of that pass will never be the same.
Wonderful article. Barb & I will be by to see you too soon, we hope.
Jim
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Hey Jimmy,
How wonderful to hear from you! Dianne said she was going to send you the link. I hope you will be able to share it with Uncle Vic and Evy. Sterling and I would love to see you Barbara when you are in the state – and we will make it a priority to get up to Kalispell to see Vic and Evy. Yesterday I heard a red winged blackbird and today I heard a robin telling me that spring is not far and a great time to get out and see the world and our relatives. Have a great trip and keep in touch.
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What an amazingly tender and heartfelt story Suzanne. You captured my sentiments about Montana to a tee! As a fourth generation Montanan, I’m a firm believer that sometimes you have to move away to really come to know and appreciate all the great things about the Montana lifestyle. They say “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence”….and it does seem sooooo very much greener when you cross the border into Montana doesn’t it? Can’t wait to read more!
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Gosh Suzanne, I thought my little sister was the only one who required her family drop in reverence to kiss the Montana dirt when coming home. Her husband was compliant to her request as well as her daughters every time they hit the state line on their way north for visits from Utah. A nice story that brings back memories. Blessings your way.
Sheri
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Thank you Suzanne for sharing this. I’m touched with how you took care of your parents. Brings tears to my eyes and gives me courage as my mother has dementia.
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Thank you for sharing your story Suzanne. I totally understand how you and your parents felt, coming back to Montana. I was gone for 16 years, traveling all over the USA and Peru. I could only do that with the knowledge that I would be coming back. I took a picture of my great grandparents homestead in Augusta and it hung on a wall wherever I was. I am so thankful to be home.
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I’ll never be able to say I was born or raised in Montana. (I get to say I grew up in New Jersey – Exit 8A). But perhaps that helps me appreciate this state even more. When all you know is people that talk too fast, and anger even faster, it’s so refreshing to finally live where the credo of ‘live and let live’ really seems to hold true. Missoula is especially interesting to me, and despite the political diversity, everyone seems to get along. Thanks for helping me take a moment to realize how good I’ve got it.
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Hello Andy,
I am happy that my story struck a cord with you and that Missoula suits you so well. While those of us who were born here are very proud of that fact, we are delighted that those of you who were born elsewhere have chosen to live among us. I think Carol (see comment above) is so right – we can’t really appreciate what we have here until we experience something else. I like to tell people that Montana has a culture of trust – that is, we automatically assume that someone is worthy of our trust and we treat them that way – and it is so different than anywhere else that I have ever lived where the opposite is true – where one is assumed to be untrustworthy until proven otherwise. We all contribute to that beautiful sense of community – and it is something very worth working to keep.
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We had a game where we would get out of the car and run around the car when we passed into Montana! If someone was sleeping we would see who could reach their hands or feet the closest to the front of the car to reach Montana first. Every thing just seemed to better when we would get into Montana.
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Suzanne,
Loved your very touching story. As a displaced Montanan living in Texas I thought I was pushing the limits of parental embarrassment by making my chlidren inhale the clean fresh air of Montana as soon as we step off any airplane.
(Stop…Now inhale as DEEP as you can… doesn’t that smell great? )
We will be adding to our ritual going forward by smelling the fresh air and then promptly dropping to our knees to kiss the ground. Thanks so much for sharing this great story.
Beth
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There’s something special about crossing the border into Montana and just knowing you’re coming home, no matter how long you’ve been gone. What a wonderful tradition your father created for you.
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Beautiful story. Thank you for sharing.
Makes me want to run home give my folks a hug.
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Beautiful and touching story. I can relate to the connection with your father. My father worked so hard after coming through Montana in the navy to get our family back to this great state to live. After a small bout here when I was a year old, it took another 8 years to finally “Come home” to Montana. I clearly remember coming through Livingston and my dad pushing the foam out of the pickup truck that seperated the back. Us 7 kids were back there. He was singing songs and saying “look at those beautiful mountains! We are home, kids!”
5 out of 7 of us still reside here, and one more sibling plans on being back within the year.
I would say he made a lasting impression on his love for Montana on us kids, as your dad did as well.
Loved reading this…thanks for writing it!
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As the husband of 42 years, I can testify to the truth of what SuzAnne writes about her parents love for Montana. However, this love of Montana is part of the genetic code for people born here I think (I’m from Wisconsin originally). We met as undergraduates at the University of Montana and got married in ’68 and then went to graduate school at the University of Washington. Although we’ve lived in various places around the world, SuzAnne always wanted to return to Montana and when we retired from jobs in Alaska, this is where we decided to return and bring her parents back so they could live their last years on Montana soil. We want our last years to be on Montana soil too. Montana is and I hope always will be a place to cherish.
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SuzAnne: wonderful post. I feel blessed to have been able to bike through the wonderful state of Montana. To traverse the land 13 miles at a time certainly gave me a deep appreciation for the state. I remember the massive Anaconda tower. Seemed like we biked toward it for hours without it ever getting closer! And I am doubly lucky to have a local like you lead us through the wilderness on your beautiful horses. Can’t wait to get out there this July!
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Absolutely lovely, Suzanne. Thanks for sharing. How we Montanans love this place we call home….and how important it is for us to help take care of “her” !
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SuzAnne, your father passed on his love of the outdoors to you, and you generously share yours with others. If it is a great injustice that I can never say that I was born in Montana or live there now, the wrong is mitigated by the ability to visit frequently. If it weren’t for you, I’d never know it feels to ride a horse executing a hairpin turn on a mountainside. Thank you for the memories!
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Very touching, SuzAnne
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I really, really love this story, SuzAnne. It’s beautifully written. It makes me miss my grandparents a lot, and reminds me why I’ve always felt so at home in that beautiful state of yours all along.
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Suzanne, I love this story and the pictures. I am so grateful for your love of MT because without it we wouldn’t have Dunrovin’s restful environment, critters, and friendships to relax our hectic lives.
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[...] this story? You may also enjoy these other Suzanne Miller blogs: Coming Home To Montana – Part I, Coming Home to Montana – Part II, and A Seasoned [...]
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