The Room

After the family scattered, I turned the farmhouse at the ranch into a Bed and Breakfast. Each bedroom had a name of an unsung hero of the Helena area. One room was named, "Chicago Joe."

Who Sez Lust Don't Pay?

Chicago Joe could have more accurately had the nickname, "Irish Mary." At least this name would have given a hint to her gender and a reason for the thick Irish brogue. But "Chicago Joe" it was, a nickname that needed no explanation in early Helena history.

Mary Josephine Airey left Ireland when when she was 14 and found her way to the seamy side of Chicago. The Civil War was raging to the East and South but in Chicago, it was "business as usual" for the prostitutes, the soiled doves, the ladies of the evening. Mary Josephine took the name "Joe" and soon learned the subtle manners of the oldest profession of women.

With youth, good looks and and indomitable will to survive, Joe learned her trade in the big city, then took her satchel of money and headed to the Western mining camps. Helena, one of the bawdiest, fastest-growing mining camp in the West was a mecca of opportunity for Chicago Joe.

She invested in real estate, hurdy gurdy houses, saloons, brothels and variety theaters. Joe ruled as queen of the underworld for more than 30 years, at a time when prostitutes owned the greater percentage of main street real estate. She held politicians and bankers in her pocket ...... all the time never having learned to read or write her name.

No woman had ever been arrested for prostitution before 1886. Prostitution WAS respectability. Money hold power. A bank clerk earned $125 a month while a "lady of the evening" earned an average $233 a month.

As the railroads increased and brought families, Helena bowed to tighter legislation and soon the Madam establishments were pushed off Main Street. Cornered into obscurity with "pimps" for protection, prostitution descended from it's "glory days" into it's present state of degradation .............. BUT the memory of Chicago Joe lives on.
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The memory especially lived on in the cheerful name-sake room, up in the mountains, of Birdseye Bed and Breakfast. After breakfast, the guests (usually history buffs) asked me to sit with them over coffee and tell stories of the room names. It kept me from doing my work but I loved being a "story teller."

Eeeekks..... the snow is melting and all that's left is brown soggy grass with spots of ice. Today it's raining. Perhaps that will help green up but who am I kidding, we'll have more cold and snow.

I was digging around in the potato bin and found two sweet potato birds. Vegetable art. Hummm.......There's a cauliflower in the fridge. Wonder if that has any possibilities? Got some radishes, too. See what happens when you spend too much time in the house during the winter.

I live a stone's throw from the Mall. I did meander over there yesterday and the casino beckoned me in. Montana has more casinos than people. Most people in Montana gamble when they need a few extra bucks and the drinkers get free booze AND a chance at a few extra bucks. I'm easy for the casino attendants, I don't even drink water. I had $20 in my purse so I stuck it into a keno machine. I always play a buck so that would give me 20 tries and I'm outta there. After 10 tries I hit 6 out of 7 and those lights were really pretty. I cashed out $230, tipped the casino guy my original 20 and I was outta there in less time than I had anticipated. Now I can fill my gas hog SUV a couple of times. Oh joy.

In the face of Japan's disaster, all we ever hear from the media are the glowing reports of how calm and polite the people are. When there are lines, no one pushes to get ahead or no signs of looting. I remember during the Katrina news, people were looting right in front of the TV cameras. Some of the Japanese had no food or water for two days and they were not complaining. When the bombs were dropped on Japan during WW2, I recall the people who were eating the traditional miso could resist the radiation fall out. Perhaps this will be true with the nuclear melt down, too. Many of the older people still adhere to the traditional macrobiotic diet but sadly, the younger people eat just as much junk food as they do in the US.

I've never done musings before. It's kinda Twitterish. Well, Bloggy Friends, that's all that's on my mind so Adios.

As We Continue with Two Cowboys, Chance and Rooney

Continuation of part 2

Here's what happened when they got to "Al's." It was later described to me at the hospital. Oooppps I'm getting ahead of my story.

Chance went directly to the machines and Rooney plopped that handsome tush at the bar. Sitting next to him was the Professor, a rustic, unshaven redhead from out East. To escape a nasty divorce, he stopped teaching and headed to Montana. Rooney and the Professor began talking and drinking with Rooney's three drinks to one of the Professors.

The evening wore on. Chance ran out of gambling money and said he was going to the truck. He crawled in the back and immediately fell asleep between two large spools of fence wire.

Rooney, still at the bar, was surrounded by local college girls. He kept tossing down drinks and wasn't really listening to the Professor's stories. He was thinking about getting laid, now that he was all liquored up but the Professor was yammering on about his fourteen year old kid who was spending the summer and how he was teaching him to shoot a gun and making a man out of him.

Closing time was announced and people started leaving. The Professor had somehow lost his truck keys but Rooney said they'd give him a ride home.

Out at the truck, the Professor got behind the wheel since Rooney was in no condition to drive. They took off in a typical Montana-bar-closing scene with Chance bouncing around in the truck-bed admid the fencing tools.

When they reached the Professor's trailer, the door was locked and his key was with the lost truck keys. Chance awoke and wondered what the hell was going on as he got out of the pickup. He and the Professor banged on the door but couldn't wake the boy. Rooney was in the drive way puk'n and Chance and the Professor were trying to find an open window. Hurray, they found one small, high-up unlocked window. The only person who would fit in that small opening would be Chance, so the Professor gave him a boost and he disappeared into the darkened room.

Bang........

There was a muffled shot. The next moment chaos reigned supreme. The kid came screaming out the door with the gun in his hand..... "Pa, Pa, someone's trying to break in and I think I shot him." Rooney stopped puking and was suddenly stone sober. Neighbors came rushing from their trailers. "Call an ambulance" someone shouted. Poor little Chance's body lay crumbled on the floor in a bright red pool of blood.

When my phone rang at 3 A.M. I thought, "Rooney's in jail again." I picked it up and all I heard was Rooney's incoherent blubbering. I finally made out that Chance had been shot.

"Is he alive?" I gasped.

"Barely. We're at the hospital."

"I'm on my way." I hung up the phone, slipped into my jeans and ran to my pickup.

When I got to the hospital, Chance was in surgery. We waited a couple of hours with Rooney pacing like a caged mountain cat, spewing prayers and making bargaining promises to God.

Finally a string bean looking doctor in blood-stained scrubs poked his head into the waiting room. He either had the perfect doctor's non-committal countenance or he played a lot of poker. After the usual bla bla bla introduction, he said simply, "he's going to be OK." Rooney broke into tears and I said my silent little prayer of thanks.

Dr. String Bean added, "He's sleeping but come back around noon."

Rooney and I stepped outside as a thin pink band of light showed across the Eastern sky. We buttoned up our jean jackets to ward off the remnants of the cool Montana night.

"Come on. I'll cook breakfast," I said, as we headed for my pickup.

"Yup, looks like it'll be a fine day for fenc'n," chimed in Rooney.

The ever lov'n End

Spa Day Montana Way

You've all most likely seen a sterotype movie about Montana people. The brother-in-law drives his jalopy Volkswagon van into the driveway of a swank suburban neighborhood and lives in it until the health authorities boot him out.

Mostly true.

Follow me on a trip through a spa, Montana style. You won't get your toenails painted or an avocado facial, but you'll get much more.

Lezz g0.

I was feeling a little stressed and realized I hadn't visited the radon mines this year. I tossed a winter jacket and Cody in the car and drove 35 miles to a little town of Basin that boasts four radon mines. Radon is a tasteless, odorless gas created by decaying uranium in the granite rocks. The radon stimulates the immune system, which in turn allows the body to heal itself. My choice of mine today is the "Merry Widow."

I stopped at the office, paid my five bucks fee and asked the girl who works there if she had any good miracle stories. She happily related one she heard last week. A guy scheduled for prostate surgery told the doctor he wanted to try the mine for a month before the knife. He did. End of month and return to doctor, no cancer.

One time in the mine, I happened to be sitting next to a lady who had owned the mine many years ago. What a stroke of luck. She was full of good miracle stories.

Here's the door of the mine. Maybe you've never been in a mine before.

Now we're in the mine. It's just a long tunnel that's been carved into the granite mountain. Of course, there has been electricity for lights and some piping of the stream that flows through it but it's primitive just the way the miners left it. The temp is around 50 -60 deg. all year. It's a moist cold so I put on my winter jacket. Cody has her own. The moment I step in, I can feel that moist air filling my lungs. Feels good.

If you walk deeper back into the tunnel you'll find the spot where most of the people sit on benches lined along the walls. They soak their feet in the icy (and I do mean icy) water- pit, read, play cards, meditate or visit with the group.

But Cody has her own little room and today were are all alone. Usually it's filled with people and their dogs and Cody has lots of friends.

People who discover the mine come back every summer. They stay in the lodge or in their campers. They stay at least 2 weeks, sit in the mine 3 times a day until they get 32 hours in all.

The foot-soaking pit in the Doggie Den is fairly small. It's behind me in the picture and I had just finished soaking my feet in the icy water for a half hour. WOW That gave the old pores a wake up. I also soak my hands to keep my fingers nimble for Flamenco. Often I bring an eye glass and give my eyes a few shots.

Time to go out in the 85 deg sunshine and head back to Helena. I have Flamenco classes at 5. Sign of "Fountain of Youth" is above the water pipe that comes out of the mine.

This water from the mine is the most heavenly, cold water I've ever tasted. I filled a couple bottles to take with me. This hose is right outside the entrance and anyone is welcome to stop and collect the healing water.

Scene as we are driving away from the mine. We'll stop in the quaint little mountain town of Basin for a few minutes.

Gold and silver was first mined in the area in 1860. Although Basin was the town that sprang from the mining, it remained small and today is mostly a quiet retirement community.

Montana has the only radon mines in the US. There are mines in Russia, Germany, Czechoslovakia, and Rumania. Most of the European mines have been turned into fancy-schmancy full service health spas because the other governments and insurance companies recognize the merits of radon's health benefits.

Another one of the mines, Sunshine Health Mine, is advertised on a building. Mostly, radon is a real estate broker's deal-breaker ever since our government stepped in. Not a problem but a valuable tool to people like me, who keep well by tweaking their bodies with natural health remedies.

Basin's community hall and general store. I smiled at the sign above the store that said, "Gerneral Merchandise and Fresh Meats" and then there is a picture of horses." Hummm?

And no Montana town is complete without it's "watering hole." No thank you. Not for this Cookie. I'm drinking my mine water.

Adios

Helena Montana on Starting Kindergarten Sex Education

Last Chance Gulch in Helena Montana

Helena Montana has become a hotbed of controversy over the school board's announcement of a sex education curriculum that would include kindergarten children. It is not a "how to manual" but more general information to protect young children from sexual predators and educate them with an awareness of personal danger.

Montana is no stranger to Liberalism. In 1917, Montana sent the first woman to congress. Jeanette Rankin was elected to two terms for the House of Representatives. This was criticism turned positive for women.

Today I took my little camcorder downtown on Last Chance Gulch. I made the video below. Helena is an anomaly. Many people had an opinion but only three people would go on camera. I had absolutely no idea what they would say or which side of the fence they were from. I am only reporting what was told to me and this is in no way reflecting my personal opinion.