ARLEE — Sequestered inconspicuously in the basement of the Arlee Community Center, the Jocko Valley Library is necessarily hard to find. It’s an issue that Kimberly Folden, the director of the non-profit, would like to address.
The library has an entrance in the rear of the Brown Building, with a chain link gate kept locked except for library hours. To access the stacks, users must traverse a dark stairwell.
Once inside, “You forget about the stairway,” said Folden.
“It’s such a wonderful space we have here.”
“It is so inviting. The books just surround you and put their arms around you, or their covers you might say. Once you get here, you forget about the gate.”
Still, the stairway is an obstacle for some patrons.
“We lose a lot of our elderly and handicapped patrons because they can’t make the stairs,” Folden said.
Plus, the community center is in dire need of repair.
“The Brown Building is rapidly decaying,” Folden said, and “the library is seeking a new home” because of it.
Despite her definitive statement, Folden said the reality of a library move is, nonetheless, “a lot of wishful thinking right now.”
Hoping to make at least a few wishes come true, Folden recently received a $10,000 grant from the Stranahan Foundation. She applied for the grant last year, and received news in December that the library had been selected for the award.
The money is earmarked for technology, furniture, reading programs, books and other little things, Folden said. A portion of the funds will go into a rainy day fund that might be used to try to find a more accessible and visible location for the library, she said.
“I want a store front with the door facing out and a sign saying Jocko Valley Library, highly visible,” Folden said.
The almost-invisible present location does limit the number of walk-ins that use the library, Folden believes. Currently, the library serves about 55 patrons per month, year-round. That number could easily increase with an improved setting, Folden feels.
“I love this community,” Folden said. “We’re a very proud community. I think if we were more visible people would be proud of our library too.”
Folden’s wishes for the library include expanding the holdings and expanding programs, especially those that serve youth.
“In the summer,” Folden said, “there’s a program where the kids go (from Arlee) to UM and swim. They meet Griz players,” she said. At the end of their day, the youth are bussed back to Arlee, and dropped off at the Brown Building.
“The kids would come use the library afterward,” Folden said. To keep them interested in reading, Folden offered them a deal.
“For every half hour the kids used the computer they would have to read a book for half an hour. They were willing to do it,” she said.
Folden believes libraries must serve youth.
“The libraries are here for children because they need to learn how to read and appreciate books,” she said. “Libraries really aren’t for adults because we already know how to read.”
“The kids are what we have to do it for.”
The Jocko Valley Library is run on love, and dedication to instilling a love of reading in others. The all-volunteer corps includes a board of directors, eight volunteer librarians and one library director.
“None of us are paid,” Folden said. With the library’s budget, salaries are out of the question. Funding for the bibliotheca comes from only a handful of sources. The board holds “one major fundraiser: an annual book sale in conjunction with the Firemen’s Fourth of July pancake breakfast,” Folden said.
“Last year is the first time the board ever remembers making over 100 dollars,” she stated.
The library also receives half a mil levy from the Lake County commissioners.
“It’s a gift,” is Folden’s description of the approximately 3,000 dollars the library is granted each year by the county. In addition, Folden said, “We have a jar to receive donations.
“We don’t get much,” she laughed.
The current board works amicably, Folden said.
“It’s a big family.” They have room for more members, though. The board, which should have five to seven members, currently has just four. They are actively seeking one new volunteer. Interested people can contact Folden at the library, she said.
Folden’s move to director evolved from her own volunteer time at the library. In 2003-2004, the library was short-handed, and Folden volunteered “seven hours a day, just to keep the library open,” she said.
Use has declined in the years since then, but Folden isn’t sure why. It could be the limited hours the library now offers. The doors are open when it best suits the volunteers’ schedules, she said. She is contemplating opening for regular, set hours, and finding volunteers who could match that schedule. That could increase awareness of the library’s offerings, and get more youth to use the facility.
Folden has also been querying students at the high school as to what they like to read, because she would like to get teens to use the library more. The director said she will use some of the new grant money to expand the library’s collection to include materials popular with teens.
“We want to give them their own section, away from the little kids,” Folden said.
Kids still use the library, though. “The Moritz books are very popular,” Folden said. Because the author and his dog are from the region, the books draw more interest. “They had a book signing at Hangin’ Art,” Folden said. “The kids were nuts about that.” After the signing, Donna Mollica, proprietor of the gallery, donated a couple of signed copies to the library, Folden said. They still check out regularly.
And, like everywhere else, Harry Potter is enticing young readers. When the final book came out six months ago, Folden made sure the library’s copy arrived as it hit the bookstores by preordering it through Amazon.com.
“We have a corporate account through Amazon,” Folden said. “Sometimes we can order books without paying for shipping. We get a much better deal thru Amazon than buying retail,” she added.
Still, Amazon doesn’t carry everything readers want, so one or two times a year the board takes a buying trip to Missoula, and visits Barnes and Noble, Costco and The Book Exchange.
“A good percentage of our patrons ask for paperbacks,” Folden said. “The men especially want paperbacks. People don’t seem to want to read the hardbacks as much,” she said.
“You can’t be as comfortable reading a hardback,” Folden said, pantomiming having to prop open a large heavy book. In contrast, paperbacks can get tossed into a purse or backpack or briefcase and taken to work or on the go.
The exception is the Potter books, which Folden said check out better as hard covers.
Other offerings at the library include book on tape and CD, music CDs, DVDs and videos, and of course, a range of books form Native American history to fiction to cooking to children’s titles to nonfiction of all sorts. Audio books are gaining attention, but are hard to come by, Folden said. “They’re very popular,” she said.
“We’re trying to get more books on CD but they’re very expensive,” Folden added.
Folden said the library accepts donations, but due to the cost of audio books, purchasers rarely part with them.
The library also accepts book donations, but can only take books published later than 1980.
“One morning I came in and there was a stack of boxes outside six high,” Folden recalled. After spending her time sorting through the vast collection, Folden said, she had to toss them all, due to the shape they were in and the fact they were outdated.
“You’d be surprised how many self-help books there are from the seventies,” she chuckled.
Folden wants the Jocko Valley Library to be timely, and to that end has recently added new computer terminals for patrons to use.
Folden purchased two towers, three flat screens and a printer for patrons’ use through a library technology grant, and Blackfoot Communication donates monthly DSL service.
Folden also forgave overdue fines at the beginning of last year, and reworked the library’s lending policy. “I think it’s helping a lot” in returning books and materials, Folden said.
The new policy instates a five-week checkout period for books,
five days for movies, and five weeks for audio materials.
“People are more appreciative of more time (to utilize the materials),” Folden said, “especially if they have little children. It takes longer to watch a movie” when you have kids.
In addition, Folden has minimized fines, with the exception of movies. “Renting them is free, but it’s a dollar a day if they’re late,” she said of videos and DVDs.
For many families, Folden said, the movie rentals provide affordable entertainment. Having a shorter turn-around period, and a substantial fine in place ensures the films will be available for more people to use.
The Jocko Valley Library is open year round, with the following current hours:
Mondays, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Tuesdays, noon til dark
Wednesdays, 4 to 6 p.m.
Thursdays, varies with volunteer schedules
Fridays, noon to 4 p.m.
Saturdays, 9:30 a.m. to 11:30 a.m.
The library is closed on Sundays.
In order to achieve more of her goals for the library, including increased hours of service, Folden will be taking grant-writing courses on line this winter.
“That is something I can give back to the library and help us reach some of these goals,” she said. She plans to take three courses over an eight-week period.
“We have tried to find grant writers and sometimes they don’t want to mess with the little piddly things (like a small library),” Folden said. “So if I can help the library that’s awesome.”
To Folden, “Everything centers around getting a new location so we could offer more family events, like a community movie night.” The director would also like to have local artisans and crafters come teach workshops.
Folden’s vision includes a more visible location, more books, more hours of operation and many, many more events for the public to come utilize the facility, especially as a family.
“The books need to be used to where they’re wearing out,” Folden said of her dream.
“Once we get rolling we’ll need the funding to keep things going,” she said, “Then the sky’s the limit as to what we can offer.”
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Little Jocko Valley Library has a storied history
ARLEE — Once upon a time, Arlee was part of Missoula County. And Missoula County had a branch library in Arlee, but it was pulled when the community was placed into the newly established Lake County. That was 1923. For the next 50 years, Arlee residents had no local library of their own.
In 1974, a group of citizens couldn’t take it any longer, and established the Jocko Valley Library as a community-run non-profit organization. The group had been collecting books, housing them in church basements until the collection grew too large. Through the graces of cheap rent, the library moved to a former liquor store, whose back door had beaten in, according to a Missoulian article from thirty years ago.
The library opened as such for the first time on April 21, 1974, then moved to the basement of the community center Brown Building in
1977. At the time, it was a great location.
Still, it had its drawbacks. The basement had a dirt floor, albeit covered over with particleboard. It had no bookshelves. It had no entrance, other than through the community center. But it was a space with free rent, and that made all the difference.
The library didn’t get a concrete floor until the mid 1980’s, when Lake County received a grant from Burlington Northern earmarked for four county libraries. Arlee received $2,593 of the total $9,130 grant. It was used to replace the floor of “rapidly rotting particle board” over dirt, said another old clipping, stored in binders in the Brown Building’s basement. The library got its separate entry staircase as well at that time.
By then, there were beautiful old bookshelves in place along the walls. The cases of solid wood came from the Jesuit Fathers in the Old Agency in the Jocko Valley, Kim Folden said.
Folden, who is the current director of the library, is interested in the library’s past as well as its hopefully brighter future.
The bookshelves “are hand crafted with square nails,” according to the library records, and, Folden said, they’re extremely heavy.
They were apparently donated by the Catholic Church, and were once used in the Old Agency rectory.
No one bothered to record how the cases were carted to the basement, but it is known that when the concrete floor was poured, cranes were used to lift the huge bookcases off the ground, and the concrete was poured underneath them.
“They hung there until the floor was dry,” Folden said. The eyehooks placed into the tops of the cases to hang them are still there, she noted. “It’s a nice reminder,” she said.
But now the bookshelves may need to move again.
“The Brown Building is rapidly decaying,” Folden said.
“When people walk upstairs, dust falls from the ceiling. The moisture issues are a problem. We have mold problems. It can be a dank and dark area,” she said of the basement library.
Folden would like to see the library into a new home.
“Basements aren’t god places for books, no matter how hard you try,” Folden said. “They’re just not.”
Plus, she said, the stairway, once an inspired entrance for the library alone, is a hardship to some patrons.
“We lose a lot of our elderly and handicapped patrons because they can’t make the stairs,” Folden said.
Her vision is for the entire community.
“I want a store front with the door facing out and a sign saying Jocko Valley Library, highly visible” Folden said of her dream building. But as they say, it all takes money.
“I think the books damage themselves just sitting in this dark basement,” Folden said.
“It’s getting to a desperate mode for the life of the books and the life of the library,” she added.
Right now, it’s a catch-22, getting users into the library, which would in turn increase interest and support. With renewed interest should come renewed funding opportunities.
Folden is hopeful that will occur, though. “We need to be able to do that,” she said, so the library can again take wing.
In 1974, a group of citizens couldn’t take it any longer, and established the Jocko Valley Library as a community-run non-profit organization. The group had been collecting books, housing them in church basements until the collection grew too large. Through the graces of cheap rent, the library moved to a former liquor store, whose back door had beaten in, according to a Missoulian article from thirty years ago.
The library opened as such for the first time on April 21, 1974, then moved to the basement of the community center Brown Building in
1977. At the time, it was a great location.
Still, it had its drawbacks. The basement had a dirt floor, albeit covered over with particleboard. It had no bookshelves. It had no entrance, other than through the community center. But it was a space with free rent, and that made all the difference.
The library didn’t get a concrete floor until the mid 1980’s, when Lake County received a grant from Burlington Northern earmarked for four county libraries. Arlee received $2,593 of the total $9,130 grant. It was used to replace the floor of “rapidly rotting particle board” over dirt, said another old clipping, stored in binders in the Brown Building’s basement. The library got its separate entry staircase as well at that time.
By then, there were beautiful old bookshelves in place along the walls. The cases of solid wood came from the Jesuit Fathers in the Old Agency in the Jocko Valley, Kim Folden said.
Folden, who is the current director of the library, is interested in the library’s past as well as its hopefully brighter future.
The bookshelves “are hand crafted with square nails,” according to the library records, and, Folden said, they’re extremely heavy.
They were apparently donated by the Catholic Church, and were once used in the Old Agency rectory.
No one bothered to record how the cases were carted to the basement, but it is known that when the concrete floor was poured, cranes were used to lift the huge bookcases off the ground, and the concrete was poured underneath them.
“They hung there until the floor was dry,” Folden said. The eyehooks placed into the tops of the cases to hang them are still there, she noted. “It’s a nice reminder,” she said.
But now the bookshelves may need to move again.
“The Brown Building is rapidly decaying,” Folden said.
“When people walk upstairs, dust falls from the ceiling. The moisture issues are a problem. We have mold problems. It can be a dank and dark area,” she said of the basement library.
Folden would like to see the library into a new home.
“Basements aren’t god places for books, no matter how hard you try,” Folden said. “They’re just not.”
Plus, she said, the stairway, once an inspired entrance for the library alone, is a hardship to some patrons.
“We lose a lot of our elderly and handicapped patrons because they can’t make the stairs,” Folden said.
Her vision is for the entire community.
“I want a store front with the door facing out and a sign saying Jocko Valley Library, highly visible” Folden said of her dream building. But as they say, it all takes money.
“I think the books damage themselves just sitting in this dark basement,” Folden said.
“It’s getting to a desperate mode for the life of the books and the life of the library,” she added.
Right now, it’s a catch-22, getting users into the library, which would in turn increase interest and support. With renewed interest should come renewed funding opportunities.
Folden is hopeful that will occur, though. “We need to be able to do that,” she said, so the library can again take wing.
Jocko Trails group gets help from National Parks Service
(fall '07)ARLEE — The Jocko Valley Trails Association got a boost from the National Parks Service recently, in the form of time with a professional consultant.
“The grant is me,” Gary Weiner said, smiling. “It’s time only.”
Weiner met with the group to help them determine which direction they should go in getting their potential trails system established in the valley. Weiner works for the National Parks Service Rivers and Trails Program, a community assistance arm of the National Parks Service.
Weiner has been working in Missoula on a trails system at the Milltown Dam site. He’d not been north of the county line.
Gary Decker, the chair of the Jocko Trials group, learned about Weiner’s proximity and solicited his participation.
“Most of my work is over here is planning and design assistance on natural resource projects,” Weiner said. Weiner said he works specifically in areas of significant population growth in the West.
“Which means I work in Western Montana,” he smiled.
Weiner told the group there are plenty of resources they can tap into for planning their trails. Organizations like Rails to Trails have become well known in their efforts to create community access paths in the growing west. Weiner said such organizations offer ideas and planning guides for local groups interested in establishing their own systems.
The one thing not so easy to come by, he noted, was money.
“Money is an issue,” he noted.
Weiner mentioned CTEP funds, a state-wide program “that funds transportation related projects designed to strengthen the cultural, aesthetic, and environmental aspects of Montana's intermodal transportation system,” according to the Montana Department of Transportation website. “The Community Transportation Enhancement Program allows for the implementation of a variety of non-traditional projects,” the site says. The Jocko Trails System is a good example of transportation modalities considered.
Horse trails, bike paths, sidewalks, designated routes, and cross country ski trials are all being considered for inclusion in the Jocko project.
“We’re at the dreaming stage,” said Mary Stranahan, a founding member of the group.
Weiner told the gathering that that’s a good place to start.
The trail system “can be anything in terms of planning, anything in terms of design,” he said. And, “anything in terms of scope,” which led Stranahan to ask, “How about 80 miles?”
One dream of the group would be to see a non-motorized trail linking Missoula to Glacier National Park.
Weiner suggested they think a little more local to start.
“You can start teaching yourselves how you can go from point A to B,” he said, telling the group their first step should be a loose plan for a design, followed by contacting land owners where trail easements would be necessary.
“If you have to buy easement with this money it will not go very far,” Weiner said of CTEP funds. Plus, trails created through CTEP funds must meet certain design standards.
“It needs to be handicapped accessible if its CTEP money,” said Weiner.
Easements were an issue with the expansion of Highway 93 through the Arlee area, and MDOT apparently could not get easement for roadside trails. “They do not have the funding,” said Weiner. “But the standard way of doing that is with CTEP money.”
Landowners shouldn’t have to worry about liability if they grant an easement, Weiner said, as “every state has a recreational use statute that holds harmless private land owners.”
Another pool of funds the group should look into is the Safe Routes to School Program, Weiner said. The state administers $1 million of federal funds for communities to designate non-motorized travel routes to and from schools.
The more “hooks” a path has, the better its chances of being funded through one source or another, Weiner emphasized. Trails can help with promoting public health, reducing air pollution, allowing safe routes to school, reducing obesity and heart disease levels through walking and other taglines that would make them eligible for grants form various groups.
“Most times when you’re talking a trail you want as many uses as possible,” Weiner said.
Weiner said his services are available to the group, but urged them to pursue as much of the background work as possible themselves.
“We want to help successful projects succeed, but you have to know what you want from us,” Weiner said.
“The grant is me,” Gary Weiner said, smiling. “It’s time only.”
Weiner met with the group to help them determine which direction they should go in getting their potential trails system established in the valley. Weiner works for the National Parks Service Rivers and Trails Program, a community assistance arm of the National Parks Service.
Weiner has been working in Missoula on a trails system at the Milltown Dam site. He’d not been north of the county line.
Gary Decker, the chair of the Jocko Trials group, learned about Weiner’s proximity and solicited his participation.
“Most of my work is over here is planning and design assistance on natural resource projects,” Weiner said. Weiner said he works specifically in areas of significant population growth in the West.
“Which means I work in Western Montana,” he smiled.
Weiner told the group there are plenty of resources they can tap into for planning their trails. Organizations like Rails to Trails have become well known in their efforts to create community access paths in the growing west. Weiner said such organizations offer ideas and planning guides for local groups interested in establishing their own systems.
The one thing not so easy to come by, he noted, was money.
“Money is an issue,” he noted.
Weiner mentioned CTEP funds, a state-wide program “that funds transportation related projects designed to strengthen the cultural, aesthetic, and environmental aspects of Montana's intermodal transportation system,” according to the Montana Department of Transportation website. “The Community Transportation Enhancement Program allows for the implementation of a variety of non-traditional projects,” the site says. The Jocko Trails System is a good example of transportation modalities considered.
Horse trails, bike paths, sidewalks, designated routes, and cross country ski trials are all being considered for inclusion in the Jocko project.
“We’re at the dreaming stage,” said Mary Stranahan, a founding member of the group.
Weiner told the gathering that that’s a good place to start.
The trail system “can be anything in terms of planning, anything in terms of design,” he said. And, “anything in terms of scope,” which led Stranahan to ask, “How about 80 miles?”
One dream of the group would be to see a non-motorized trail linking Missoula to Glacier National Park.
Weiner suggested they think a little more local to start.
“You can start teaching yourselves how you can go from point A to B,” he said, telling the group their first step should be a loose plan for a design, followed by contacting land owners where trail easements would be necessary.
“If you have to buy easement with this money it will not go very far,” Weiner said of CTEP funds. Plus, trails created through CTEP funds must meet certain design standards.
“It needs to be handicapped accessible if its CTEP money,” said Weiner.
Easements were an issue with the expansion of Highway 93 through the Arlee area, and MDOT apparently could not get easement for roadside trails. “They do not have the funding,” said Weiner. “But the standard way of doing that is with CTEP money.”
Landowners shouldn’t have to worry about liability if they grant an easement, Weiner said, as “every state has a recreational use statute that holds harmless private land owners.”
Another pool of funds the group should look into is the Safe Routes to School Program, Weiner said. The state administers $1 million of federal funds for communities to designate non-motorized travel routes to and from schools.
The more “hooks” a path has, the better its chances of being funded through one source or another, Weiner emphasized. Trails can help with promoting public health, reducing air pollution, allowing safe routes to school, reducing obesity and heart disease levels through walking and other taglines that would make them eligible for grants form various groups.
“Most times when you’re talking a trail you want as many uses as possible,” Weiner said.
Weiner said his services are available to the group, but urged them to pursue as much of the background work as possible themselves.
“We want to help successful projects succeed, but you have to know what you want from us,” Weiner said.
Arlee’s new school superintendent brings years of experience to the job
('07-'08)ARLEE — After a career of service in education in Alaska, John Miller came home to retire. But retirement didn’t suit him, and he gladly accepted a position as new superintendent of Arlee Schools.
Miller brings 22 years of experience to the job, where he presides over Arlee’s three schools, 80 staff members, and a budget of $2.5 million.
For a small district, it’s a big job.
Miller is the education manager for the district. The position, he said, requires you to be an “incredible problem solver, a visionary, and highly visible.”
Plus, he must be fiscally responsible for the district’s money. And, most importantly said Miller, “You have to get people to love coming to work as much as you do.”
Miller was born and raised in Missoula, and received his degree in education from the University of Montana. In 1983, he began teaching in Froid, Mont.
Froid is “almost in North Dakota,” he said. His wife Lisa, now Principal of Arlee Elementary, taught there, as well.
After two years, their superintendent moved to Alaska, and the Millers considered the possibility themselves.
“One night, we were sitting around the fire and realized we could do this in Alaska and Lisa wouldn’t have to work because the salaries were so good,” Miller said. At the time, Lisa Miller was seven months pregnant.
So the Millers moved north, landing in the small island community of Angoon. Angoon was a “dry” Klinkit village, tucked into the sea.
“It was a fabulous experience,” Miller said. “We loved it.”
“We loved the people. We got involved in their culture, we learned their language.”
After two years, necessity dictated the Millers move closer to medical services. So they “moved up north to the road system,” Miller said, to the Athabascan town of Nenana.
Nenana’s climate was extremely harsh, and after three years Miller moved his family to the outskirts of Fairbanks, where he taught, coached, and worked as an administrator.
Lisa, who had been raising the couple’s kids, returned to teaching in 1995. And in 2006, Miller retired.
“We wanted to move down here (to Western Montana),” Miller said.
“We had two kids in college down here” as well.
The couple spent a lot of time in the Jocko Valley during their job search in 2006, and both applied for the principal’s job in Arlee.
“We spent a lot of time with people and fell in love with the area,” he said. And the school “had a great reputation” for providing “a real good education” he said.
Lisa Miller was offered the principal’s job, and John accepted a position as superintendent in Stevensville.
The commute and distance from his wife did not suit him.
“We’d always worked closely together, so last year was really tough,” Miller said. “So when this became available, I was really excited.”
Miller loves his new job, and the people he works with.
“It’s been better than I anticipated,” he said. He and his wife plan to stay a long while. “We love education, and love being around the kids,” he said. Besides, Miller says, “I’m too young to retire.”
Miller brings 22 years of experience to the job, where he presides over Arlee’s three schools, 80 staff members, and a budget of $2.5 million.
For a small district, it’s a big job.
Miller is the education manager for the district. The position, he said, requires you to be an “incredible problem solver, a visionary, and highly visible.”
Plus, he must be fiscally responsible for the district’s money. And, most importantly said Miller, “You have to get people to love coming to work as much as you do.”
Miller was born and raised in Missoula, and received his degree in education from the University of Montana. In 1983, he began teaching in Froid, Mont.
Froid is “almost in North Dakota,” he said. His wife Lisa, now Principal of Arlee Elementary, taught there, as well.
After two years, their superintendent moved to Alaska, and the Millers considered the possibility themselves.
“One night, we were sitting around the fire and realized we could do this in Alaska and Lisa wouldn’t have to work because the salaries were so good,” Miller said. At the time, Lisa Miller was seven months pregnant.
So the Millers moved north, landing in the small island community of Angoon. Angoon was a “dry” Klinkit village, tucked into the sea.
“It was a fabulous experience,” Miller said. “We loved it.”
“We loved the people. We got involved in their culture, we learned their language.”
After two years, necessity dictated the Millers move closer to medical services. So they “moved up north to the road system,” Miller said, to the Athabascan town of Nenana.
Nenana’s climate was extremely harsh, and after three years Miller moved his family to the outskirts of Fairbanks, where he taught, coached, and worked as an administrator.
Lisa, who had been raising the couple’s kids, returned to teaching in 1995. And in 2006, Miller retired.
“We wanted to move down here (to Western Montana),” Miller said.
“We had two kids in college down here” as well.
The couple spent a lot of time in the Jocko Valley during their job search in 2006, and both applied for the principal’s job in Arlee.
“We spent a lot of time with people and fell in love with the area,” he said. And the school “had a great reputation” for providing “a real good education” he said.
Lisa Miller was offered the principal’s job, and John accepted a position as superintendent in Stevensville.
The commute and distance from his wife did not suit him.
“We’d always worked closely together, so last year was really tough,” Miller said. “So when this became available, I was really excited.”
Miller loves his new job, and the people he works with.
“It’s been better than I anticipated,” he said. He and his wife plan to stay a long while. “We love education, and love being around the kids,” he said. Besides, Miller says, “I’m too young to retire.”
Mission council considers sewer progress, absent police car
(winter '07)ST. IGNATIUS — Mission council members were treated to a positive report last week regarding continuation of the sewer project, and they were chastised for spending too much money on a police cruiser that isn’t always available for use.
Fred Phillips, Project Manager with Great West Engineering, gave a glowing progress report on the new sewer system indicating many milestones have been met.
Treatment lagoons are being rip-rapped, irrigation pipe is being laid, electrical service is approved, irrigation pivots are in and blowers are ready to be installed — generally, the project is on rapid “go” mode.
Contractors “have a month to get the project on-line,” Phillips said.
All land acquisition issues have been settled, and there were no major changes to the project, the consultant said.
The sewer project has “about a quarter million dollars in the contingency fund,” he said, although current expenditures of $40,000 must be taken out. The remaining $185,000 is available to use for replacement of current sewer lines, hooking up existing properties to the new system, general maintenance and other septic-related items.
Planning Board member Claudia McCready is thrilled by the prospect. “All the old pipes are clay; they’re over fifty years old. There’s a lot of leakage problems.”
“We’re all excited to have some money to fix the existing lines,” she said.
As for “the things that are left to be done,” with the new system, Phillips said, “I don’t see any problem getting those done in the next month.”
Mayor Charley Gariepy said the process has been a “dream come true.” The only possible hitch to the project is a necessary easement through Tony Incashola’s property, but the mayor said the issue has “been resolved with a handshake,” though “it hasn’t been resolved on paper.”
Funding for the sewer project was, for the most part, via grants secured by Great West.
“We’ve really made it our business to know how to get the grant money for these projects together,” Phillips remarked.
The project has brought in $5,012,000 since it began in 2003.
The latest grants and loans compromised about $3,200,000 of the total budget.
A recent State and Tribal Assistance Grant along with a Rural Development loan, each for $750,000, will accommodate increases in construction costs since the project began.
Phillips said the community received the funds based on the high percentage of low-to-moderate income individuals living within the Mission sewer district boundaries. Once on-line, service costs will be at least $40 per household, said City Clerk and Treasurer Lee Ann Gottfried.
In other business, $417,603.86 in claims was paid out by the city, with the bulk (over $385,000) going to Phillips Construction as general contractor on the sewer project.
As for the police car, former mayor Ken Hurt complained to the current mayor about the town’s newly hired police officer taking one of three town police cars home to Arlee every night.
Hurt said the action is costing tax payers $300 to $400 a month in gas, plus limiting the availability of response should a law-enforcement problem arise while the car is out-of-area.
Hurt stated “I am vehemently opposed to driving our car to Arlee or Ronan or wherever when the officer is not working.”
“Exposing officers and equipment needlessly to dangers on Highway 93 is not a good policy,” he said.
Police Chief Jerry Johnson mentioned the officer has 90 days from point of hire to move into the Mission area. The 90 days runs through Dec. 1. Both Ronan and Polson give officers much more time for such a move, he said.
The mayor remarked he, too, was unhappy with the policy, but good candidates were hard to find, at which point Hurt retorted that if qualified candidates could not be found, the city should look into contracting with the sheriff to provide the town’s public safety duties.
Gariepy replied he was meeting with the sheriff and the tribe the following day to discuss shared duties.
Chief Johnson also explained why the Mission police cars are left idling. Apparently, the cars were wired incorrectly, and electrical equipment in the cars continues to draw off the battery even when the ignition is off. As a result, the cars must be plugged in, or left idling, so as not to lose power. Johnson noted the equipment is sensitive, and letting the battery die and jump-starting the vehicle would be detrimental to the electrical system. OSHA regulations prohibit using a supplemental battery in the vehicle.
“The only option we have is to rewire those cars, and that’s a very expensive venture,” Johnson said.
Fred Phillips, Project Manager with Great West Engineering, gave a glowing progress report on the new sewer system indicating many milestones have been met.
Treatment lagoons are being rip-rapped, irrigation pipe is being laid, electrical service is approved, irrigation pivots are in and blowers are ready to be installed — generally, the project is on rapid “go” mode.
Contractors “have a month to get the project on-line,” Phillips said.
All land acquisition issues have been settled, and there were no major changes to the project, the consultant said.
The sewer project has “about a quarter million dollars in the contingency fund,” he said, although current expenditures of $40,000 must be taken out. The remaining $185,000 is available to use for replacement of current sewer lines, hooking up existing properties to the new system, general maintenance and other septic-related items.
Planning Board member Claudia McCready is thrilled by the prospect. “All the old pipes are clay; they’re over fifty years old. There’s a lot of leakage problems.”
“We’re all excited to have some money to fix the existing lines,” she said.
As for “the things that are left to be done,” with the new system, Phillips said, “I don’t see any problem getting those done in the next month.”
Mayor Charley Gariepy said the process has been a “dream come true.” The only possible hitch to the project is a necessary easement through Tony Incashola’s property, but the mayor said the issue has “been resolved with a handshake,” though “it hasn’t been resolved on paper.”
Funding for the sewer project was, for the most part, via grants secured by Great West.
“We’ve really made it our business to know how to get the grant money for these projects together,” Phillips remarked.
The project has brought in $5,012,000 since it began in 2003.
The latest grants and loans compromised about $3,200,000 of the total budget.
A recent State and Tribal Assistance Grant along with a Rural Development loan, each for $750,000, will accommodate increases in construction costs since the project began.
Phillips said the community received the funds based on the high percentage of low-to-moderate income individuals living within the Mission sewer district boundaries. Once on-line, service costs will be at least $40 per household, said City Clerk and Treasurer Lee Ann Gottfried.
In other business, $417,603.86 in claims was paid out by the city, with the bulk (over $385,000) going to Phillips Construction as general contractor on the sewer project.
As for the police car, former mayor Ken Hurt complained to the current mayor about the town’s newly hired police officer taking one of three town police cars home to Arlee every night.
Hurt said the action is costing tax payers $300 to $400 a month in gas, plus limiting the availability of response should a law-enforcement problem arise while the car is out-of-area.
Hurt stated “I am vehemently opposed to driving our car to Arlee or Ronan or wherever when the officer is not working.”
“Exposing officers and equipment needlessly to dangers on Highway 93 is not a good policy,” he said.
Police Chief Jerry Johnson mentioned the officer has 90 days from point of hire to move into the Mission area. The 90 days runs through Dec. 1. Both Ronan and Polson give officers much more time for such a move, he said.
The mayor remarked he, too, was unhappy with the policy, but good candidates were hard to find, at which point Hurt retorted that if qualified candidates could not be found, the city should look into contracting with the sheriff to provide the town’s public safety duties.
Gariepy replied he was meeting with the sheriff and the tribe the following day to discuss shared duties.
Chief Johnson also explained why the Mission police cars are left idling. Apparently, the cars were wired incorrectly, and electrical equipment in the cars continues to draw off the battery even when the ignition is off. As a result, the cars must be plugged in, or left idling, so as not to lose power. Johnson noted the equipment is sensitive, and letting the battery die and jump-starting the vehicle would be detrimental to the electrical system. OSHA regulations prohibit using a supplemental battery in the vehicle.
“The only option we have is to rewire those cars, and that’s a very expensive venture,” Johnson said.
Home school support group shares laughter, ideas
(winter '07) POLSON — There are “probably close to a hundred home schooling families in the Mission Valley,” said Connie Doty, organizer for the Mission Valley Home Educators.
The group, a fun and friendly collection of home schooling families from throughout the area, meets monthly for a potluck dinner and to share information and techniques. Typically, four to ten families come to the gatherings, but “they’re big families,” Doty said, smiling.
While many of the families are from Ronan, they meet in Polson, at a local church hall where there are opportunities to use the kitchen, bathrooms and separate meeting rooms for small group discussions.
At this meeting, about a dozen couples gathered, while children headed to an activity room for games and play, allowing the adults some quiet time.
There are as many reasons to home school as there are individuals, participants said. Some “just want to spend that one on one time” with their children, said Doty.
For others, it’s a religious decision. It “gives the kids moral training and a spiritual atmosphere in the home,” John Q. Doty said of his family’s incentive.
For some, it’s tradition. “I was home schooled my whole life, and I home school my six children,” announced Kirby Gilby.
Connie Doty added “We started hanging out with the home schoolers before we ever had kids, ‘cause we thought they were cool.”
And this group is definitely cool. These parents have bucked the public-school system for anywhere from a month to 12 years.
Some people are closed-minded about home schooling, Gene Conrad says. “They think we make our children recite three chapters of the bible before eating.”
But instead they think of the practical. “Just look at the teacher-student ratio,” Conrad says. “Things can be tailored to each child’s needs.”
Parents also relate that the children are not segregated by age group, and tend to get along better with a broader societal spectrum than kids confined to one grade level.
It’s not all serious here, though. There is lots of laughter, and while many of those present are moms alone (the dads must all be out hunting, or napping, they laugh) the couples that are present seem very devoted to each other. I sense it is this shared approach to parenting that makes these home schoolers so strong in their convictions.
This month’s meeting opened with announcements. Parents told of biology labs available for use, of sewing classes and art classes and volleyball and soccer. If you thought home schooled kids were sequestered and closeted, you’d be — like me — very wrong.
There’s even a reading-incentive program where the kids can win free pizza. The plethora of activities almost makes you want to be a kid yourself.
After announcements, the group divides: moms will discuss organization techniques while the dads will discuss the father’s role in home education.
I slip into the dad’s group, where I am amazed by the consciousness in what I hear.
“We have our children for a very short amount of time,” said Gene Conrad. “If they’re not equipped (with life skills when they leave us), we can’t help them like we can now.”
Fathers have a huge influence on their children, Rob Dursma added. He said the biggest help they can be is to be supportive of the moms. “The kids will see that,” he said.
Back with the moms, Dana Brown is demystifying clutter.
Clutter, she said, is lost time.
And she pours out a bag of random items on the table to prove it. A borrowed doll, an old newspaper, a sock, a book, some toys. The time you spend searching for pencils, backpacks, measuring cups is time not available to be with your children.
Much clutter is emotionally based, Brown stated.
“Sometimes we keep things because people give them to us.”
The solution: throw it out. Throw out games with missing pieces, broken toys, newspapers after you’ve read them. Throw out junk mail and worn out clothes. “Things are too easy to come by these days to hold on to things that don’t work, don’t fit, or have been outgrown,” Brown said. “I have never regretted getting rid of anything,” she said. “You have to restore a margin of space in your life.”
The moms share storage ideas, graphics of chore charts, approaches to getting their kids to do their work. They share curriculum reviews and the basics of home education, of how to conform to state law.
“The superintendent calls every year to ask if I’m going to home school,” Judy Smith says. “I just say yes.”
Robin Dursma was asked for attendance sheets, and a discussion ensues on what information must be recorded, and what reported.
Home education typically must mimic the public school’s schedule of 180 days or 1000 hours of instruction.
“I don’t feel I’m lying to say I home school 365 days a year,” says Doty. If the school district requests information, it must be turned in, we are told. But they don’t often request it.
Some parents keep grades; some do not. It’s not required.
Immunization is, but can be waived on religious grounds.
Doty said she rereads the home schooling law “two or three times a year” to be sure she is conforming to the requirements, and so she can better share with others the correct information of how to home educate.
The moms reflect on how their approaches work for them.
“I have kept grades all along,” Dursma says. “For me and my child I felt it was a good reference point, a visual to see that ‘in this area you have to work harder.’”
Julie Conrad said some of her kids have wanted grades, while others did not.
Talk moved to time management. Most families stay on a strict bedtime schedule, rising early to expand their days.
Melanie Mutchler said her 14 year old recently told her “I like it when we do the five o’clock thing, mom. My day seems so much longer.”
Robin Dursma said she’s been rising earlier, too.
“I didn’t drink coffee til I home schooled,” she quipped.
With the laughing response, others agree.
The meeting winds down with realism from the moms. Dana Brown remarks, “It doesn’t matter at what age the children learn something, as long as adults we can all communicate.”
“We’re teaching our children to never stop learning, and that we love learning,” Conrad adds.
The Mission Valley Home Educators will meet the first Friday of every month, in Polson at the New Life Christian Center. Potluck starts at 6 p.m., followed by a meeting/discussion at 7 p.m. All are welcome.
The group, a fun and friendly collection of home schooling families from throughout the area, meets monthly for a potluck dinner and to share information and techniques. Typically, four to ten families come to the gatherings, but “they’re big families,” Doty said, smiling.
While many of the families are from Ronan, they meet in Polson, at a local church hall where there are opportunities to use the kitchen, bathrooms and separate meeting rooms for small group discussions.
At this meeting, about a dozen couples gathered, while children headed to an activity room for games and play, allowing the adults some quiet time.
There are as many reasons to home school as there are individuals, participants said. Some “just want to spend that one on one time” with their children, said Doty.
For others, it’s a religious decision. It “gives the kids moral training and a spiritual atmosphere in the home,” John Q. Doty said of his family’s incentive.
For some, it’s tradition. “I was home schooled my whole life, and I home school my six children,” announced Kirby Gilby.
Connie Doty added “We started hanging out with the home schoolers before we ever had kids, ‘cause we thought they were cool.”
And this group is definitely cool. These parents have bucked the public-school system for anywhere from a month to 12 years.
Some people are closed-minded about home schooling, Gene Conrad says. “They think we make our children recite three chapters of the bible before eating.”
But instead they think of the practical. “Just look at the teacher-student ratio,” Conrad says. “Things can be tailored to each child’s needs.”
Parents also relate that the children are not segregated by age group, and tend to get along better with a broader societal spectrum than kids confined to one grade level.
It’s not all serious here, though. There is lots of laughter, and while many of those present are moms alone (the dads must all be out hunting, or napping, they laugh) the couples that are present seem very devoted to each other. I sense it is this shared approach to parenting that makes these home schoolers so strong in their convictions.
This month’s meeting opened with announcements. Parents told of biology labs available for use, of sewing classes and art classes and volleyball and soccer. If you thought home schooled kids were sequestered and closeted, you’d be — like me — very wrong.
There’s even a reading-incentive program where the kids can win free pizza. The plethora of activities almost makes you want to be a kid yourself.
After announcements, the group divides: moms will discuss organization techniques while the dads will discuss the father’s role in home education.
I slip into the dad’s group, where I am amazed by the consciousness in what I hear.
“We have our children for a very short amount of time,” said Gene Conrad. “If they’re not equipped (with life skills when they leave us), we can’t help them like we can now.”
Fathers have a huge influence on their children, Rob Dursma added. He said the biggest help they can be is to be supportive of the moms. “The kids will see that,” he said.
Back with the moms, Dana Brown is demystifying clutter.
Clutter, she said, is lost time.
And she pours out a bag of random items on the table to prove it. A borrowed doll, an old newspaper, a sock, a book, some toys. The time you spend searching for pencils, backpacks, measuring cups is time not available to be with your children.
Much clutter is emotionally based, Brown stated.
“Sometimes we keep things because people give them to us.”
The solution: throw it out. Throw out games with missing pieces, broken toys, newspapers after you’ve read them. Throw out junk mail and worn out clothes. “Things are too easy to come by these days to hold on to things that don’t work, don’t fit, or have been outgrown,” Brown said. “I have never regretted getting rid of anything,” she said. “You have to restore a margin of space in your life.”
The moms share storage ideas, graphics of chore charts, approaches to getting their kids to do their work. They share curriculum reviews and the basics of home education, of how to conform to state law.
“The superintendent calls every year to ask if I’m going to home school,” Judy Smith says. “I just say yes.”
Robin Dursma was asked for attendance sheets, and a discussion ensues on what information must be recorded, and what reported.
Home education typically must mimic the public school’s schedule of 180 days or 1000 hours of instruction.
“I don’t feel I’m lying to say I home school 365 days a year,” says Doty. If the school district requests information, it must be turned in, we are told. But they don’t often request it.
Some parents keep grades; some do not. It’s not required.
Immunization is, but can be waived on religious grounds.
Doty said she rereads the home schooling law “two or three times a year” to be sure she is conforming to the requirements, and so she can better share with others the correct information of how to home educate.
The moms reflect on how their approaches work for them.
“I have kept grades all along,” Dursma says. “For me and my child I felt it was a good reference point, a visual to see that ‘in this area you have to work harder.’”
Julie Conrad said some of her kids have wanted grades, while others did not.
Talk moved to time management. Most families stay on a strict bedtime schedule, rising early to expand their days.
Melanie Mutchler said her 14 year old recently told her “I like it when we do the five o’clock thing, mom. My day seems so much longer.”
Robin Dursma said she’s been rising earlier, too.
“I didn’t drink coffee til I home schooled,” she quipped.
With the laughing response, others agree.
The meeting winds down with realism from the moms. Dana Brown remarks, “It doesn’t matter at what age the children learn something, as long as adults we can all communicate.”
“We’re teaching our children to never stop learning, and that we love learning,” Conrad adds.
The Mission Valley Home Educators will meet the first Friday of every month, in Polson at the New Life Christian Center. Potluck starts at 6 p.m., followed by a meeting/discussion at 7 p.m. All are welcome.
Learning the songs
(fall '07)ARLEE — Navajo flute maker Paul Thomson was in Arlee last week to teach and perform.
Thompson has been making native flutes for over 20 years. He began as a boy, when he first wanted to play. “I learned to play transverse bamboo flute,” he said, “but I wanted to play native flute.”
So he began making his own.
“These things have been around for thousands of years,” he said, fingering a flute. Originally, the flutes were made of many materials, Thompson stated. From bird-bone for whistles to ash and other woods, the flutes were made of materials at hand.
Thompson said playing and flute making are like life – you have to let the process flow. “I have no conception of time, “ he stated.
Thompson was in Arlee thanks to the efforts of Julie Cajune, Director of Salish Kootenai College’s Tribal History Project.
In collaboration with Npustin, a native nonprofit that promotes indigenous arts, Cajune brought both Thompson and Seattle “world flutist” Gary Stroutsos to Arlee to teach the eighth graders in SKC’s Youth Empowerment Program. The program is a cultural enrichment and academic program, said Kim Sprow, Prevention Specialist at both Ronan and Two Eagle River schools.
The Youth Empowerment Program focuses on at-risk youth, encouraging them to take control of their lives through traditional native arts.
“We’re trying to get young people interested again,” Cajune said.
Interested they were.
Young men and women practiced diligently, playing on New Mexico river cane flutes. Student Jasmine Ellenwood-Auld said they had to be comfortable playing five distinct chords, before they could learn any songs.
She and the other students piped away on the flutes, which are “sized for children,” she said. “They have smaller holes that are closer together,” she explained, so that the youths’ fingers better fit the instruments.
While Stousos taught them the basics of music, Thompson smiled at his charges. “For me, because they’re native flutes, I’m here.”
Thompson has been making native flutes for over 20 years. He began as a boy, when he first wanted to play. “I learned to play transverse bamboo flute,” he said, “but I wanted to play native flute.”
So he began making his own.
“These things have been around for thousands of years,” he said, fingering a flute. Originally, the flutes were made of many materials, Thompson stated. From bird-bone for whistles to ash and other woods, the flutes were made of materials at hand.
Thompson said playing and flute making are like life – you have to let the process flow. “I have no conception of time, “ he stated.
Thompson was in Arlee thanks to the efforts of Julie Cajune, Director of Salish Kootenai College’s Tribal History Project.
In collaboration with Npustin, a native nonprofit that promotes indigenous arts, Cajune brought both Thompson and Seattle “world flutist” Gary Stroutsos to Arlee to teach the eighth graders in SKC’s Youth Empowerment Program. The program is a cultural enrichment and academic program, said Kim Sprow, Prevention Specialist at both Ronan and Two Eagle River schools.
The Youth Empowerment Program focuses on at-risk youth, encouraging them to take control of their lives through traditional native arts.
“We’re trying to get young people interested again,” Cajune said.
Interested they were.
Young men and women practiced diligently, playing on New Mexico river cane flutes. Student Jasmine Ellenwood-Auld said they had to be comfortable playing five distinct chords, before they could learn any songs.
She and the other students piped away on the flutes, which are “sized for children,” she said. “They have smaller holes that are closer together,” she explained, so that the youths’ fingers better fit the instruments.
While Stousos taught them the basics of music, Thompson smiled at his charges. “For me, because they’re native flutes, I’m here.”
From dark to duck dawn: a newbie goes duck hunting
I learned this much about duck hunting: never, EVER give away the location of your favorite water hole. In this way, waterfowl hunting is a bit like fishing. I was sworn to secrecy as to the location of the pond. It was dark enough on our drive I might as well have been blindfolded. Combined with my ignorance of backcountry roads of the valley, the unnamed location is safe from any intruder I might inadvertently send its way. In addition, my duck hunters requested anonymity. So be it.
MISSION VALLEY — The hunt begins long before dawn, with a preparatory meal designed to fill one’s belly for the hours in the blind.
My host made us oatmeal: fast, and to the point. The quick bowl of cereal gave way to hurried layering in waterproof gear. Then it was off to the truck, load the dogs, and on to the pond, where headlights alone broke the blackness. It was “0’deer-thirty.” Silent as death.
There is beauty in rising before the light. Sounds lay low upon the earth, and the distant howl of a passing train is eerie as a coyote’s cry.
At the pond, the water was flat. A moonless sky held storm-filled clouds, that hid any fracture of light that otherwise would have come through. The ker-spalsh of decoys tossed into the water was muffled by the darkness. The dogs romped playfully, obviously excited for what lay ahead. I was the only one lost, uncertain as to what the eventual light would hold.
We finished the set up, and hunkered into the blind: a remarkably natural-looking enclosure. From the shore, it looked liked a cluster of reeds. From within, it was the secret hideout every child dreams of: You can’t see me! But I can see you…
We sat on a bench, raised off the water’s surface on a platform of planks. A gentle breeze fluttered the cattails. Vague grey overtook the squid-ink darkness. An edge of blue peered in.
The dogs were crouched at our feet, shaking in anticipation.
Above, the quarry: a flock of mallards quacked into weak light.
Watches were read. Charts consulted. Disappointment voiced.
Regulations state that, for non-tribal members, waterfowl shooting must wait until sunrise.
“Fifteen minutes yet.” We stayed silent. The ducks flew on.
Behind us, in the almost-darkness, a shot burned through. Was it someone ignoring the dawn-light start?
“Probably shooting at a coyote,” my companions said. I nodded.
The clouds above us tumbled through the sky: layers of drab grey, slate blue, and streaks of wind-blown black.
According to the hunters, rain and snow would be best.
“In bad weather, the ducks are moving all over.”
I had only before seen duck hunting through photos in magazines: glossy blue skies, full sun and saturated golds of autumn hills, the birds dazzling like jewels.
Reality, as they say, is a little different.
I was surprised by the glee evident in the men’s faces as the weather turned. “With duck hunting, that nastier the weather, the better it is.” I was told that during storms, fowl move off their sleeping ponds and seek more sheltered waters. That’s when hunters can have their play.
So as the breeze became a wind, and a teardrop rain began to fall, I was the only one thinking “cold.”
Yet amazingly, I wasn’t cold. The blind was well built, a shelter against the elements.
I’d been expecting a nylon pop-up tent, the kind a friend uses in big game hunting. This cattail-reed screen was entirely hand-made, so had all the advantages that only custom work can have: a place for gear. A place for feet. A place for friends who don’t happen to hunt — yet. It had to be sheltering, they said, because “for us, it’s not about killing ducks. It’s about sitting in your blind watching ducks come in.” And watch we did.
“It’s addicting, isn’t it,” I was asked by the man who’d been hunting most his life. He started at age 8. He’s been at it almost 50 years now. “It’s a sickness,” he says. We laugh.
“The best thing about duck hunting,” says the other, “is when big game season starts. ‘Cause then there’s nobody out here.”
I look baffled. Then the men tell me their sport is in decline.
It doesn’t have the hoopla of big game appeal. Not as many gadgets, perhaps. Not as macho an endeavor.
And, as one dedicated elk-hunting friend tells me, “after duck hunting, you have to eat the ducks.”
Elk-guy says that’s the worst of it.
“Ducks are greasy.”
I suggest barbecued kabobs as a way to utilize the birds. “I’ve never tried barbecuing one. Maybe I ought to try that,” he says, contemplating. But I know he prefers his elk.
Me, I’d rather eat birds. But where freezers are concerned, there is a possession limit on duck meat. While the daily take is up to seven ducks per person, there is a total maximum of 14 ducks allowed in your freezer. So if you don’t eat your birds, you can’t take any more. That could put a quick end to your waterfowl season.
The limit is designed to thin the population of male drakes, at least as far as mallards go.
In your daily allowance of seven birds, you can take only two mallard hens. As my duck-blind companions point out, that’s a great reason not to shoot at everything. If you drop two hens early, your day is pretty much over.
Other species, I’m told, are either less of a concern, population-wise, or have no color distinction between the genders. Widgeons and teal fall in this category.
There is no good way to tell, while the birds are in flight, the sex of the fowl. So there is no gender-based limit on these species, providing you stay under the total bag limit of seven.
Still, Elk-guy said, for him, duck hunting is about getting to shoot.
A lot.
“With big game you don’t get too many chances to shoot. With birds, you can shoot your gun all day.”
The gentlemen I was out with disagree.
“Shells are too damn expensive,” they say, “to miss too many.”
So they are careful in their aim. Careful in their shots. They will not fire if they might miss. Overhead, another flock goes by. I point my face to see, and am told “Duck!” — as in, take cover. The sport, they say, is where the term originated. And it has reason.
“You’re face is like a mirror,” they tell me. To the birds circling above, my uncamoflaged cheeks can reflect the morning light, acting as a beacon, warning them off. I tuck my head down, eager to see, but careful lest I ruin their shot.
A single blast calls out. A bird invariably crumples, folds its wings in upon itself and falls to the water’s surface. The dogs jump to do their work.
I am struck by a Labrador’s grace in securing fallen fowl. He gently lifts it from the water’s surface, from the golden grass at water’s edge, from the cold grey ground.
Soft of mouth as only a lab can be, he swims powerfully, playfully through the cold dark waters. Stands dripping in the blind, awaiting the command: “Drop.”
As birds are brought in, they are hung, necks wound through the wires. There is very little blood from the perfect shots. I marvel at that. I’ve slaughtered chickens and cleaned them out, having sliced their necks to kill them. This single-shot hunting, by far, seems more humane.
Before being shot, these birds were flying: slanting, soaring, a-wing — suddenly they are dropped in a quiet death. One shot, not even as loud as the quack of the duck calls. It’s almost peaceful.
It’s not what I’d imagined.
The hunters talk and chuckle as the day emerges. Hunger pangs us all. Why didn’t we think to bring thermoses, or snacks?
Still we do not freeze, though snow clouds roll down the Missions in a menacing way. Grey clouds swirl overhead.
The men use many different calls: a drake’s “buzzing” and hens’ loud quack. Imitation goose honks. Birds circle round to listen.
Ducks come in. They veer, lured by the calls emanating from this artificial clump of reeds.
I learn a drake calls with a trill, not at all the loud, flat quack that one thinks of as “duck.” I’m told that real mallard hens at feed will stop and cock their heads, call up to passing flocks, “GQWACK, GQWACK, GQWACK,” to summon the flyers down.
The artificial calls replicate those sounds, urging birds to come closer, within reach of a hunter’s aim. I try the calls, and find they take a lot of air, and skill, to produce anything remotely like a true quack or honk. My attempts sound more like a flattened bleat, and wouldn’t fool a duckling.
The men call out again; take aim, their faces alight. I join in the excitement, but forget to shoot. My tool is a camera, not a gun, and my aim is not as proficient.
I’ve tried shooting a shotgun before. I know, for me, it is not easy. Again I’m awed by the mastery of the hunters I am watching. They don’t waste shells. They shoot once, and hit a duck.
It’s a remarkable grace.
“Take a picture!” I am told. “Take a picture!”
And I have to stop absorbing the beauty of the scene to do my job.
MISSION VALLEY — The hunt begins long before dawn, with a preparatory meal designed to fill one’s belly for the hours in the blind.
My host made us oatmeal: fast, and to the point. The quick bowl of cereal gave way to hurried layering in waterproof gear. Then it was off to the truck, load the dogs, and on to the pond, where headlights alone broke the blackness. It was “0’deer-thirty.” Silent as death.
There is beauty in rising before the light. Sounds lay low upon the earth, and the distant howl of a passing train is eerie as a coyote’s cry.
At the pond, the water was flat. A moonless sky held storm-filled clouds, that hid any fracture of light that otherwise would have come through. The ker-spalsh of decoys tossed into the water was muffled by the darkness. The dogs romped playfully, obviously excited for what lay ahead. I was the only one lost, uncertain as to what the eventual light would hold.
We finished the set up, and hunkered into the blind: a remarkably natural-looking enclosure. From the shore, it looked liked a cluster of reeds. From within, it was the secret hideout every child dreams of: You can’t see me! But I can see you…
We sat on a bench, raised off the water’s surface on a platform of planks. A gentle breeze fluttered the cattails. Vague grey overtook the squid-ink darkness. An edge of blue peered in.
The dogs were crouched at our feet, shaking in anticipation.
Above, the quarry: a flock of mallards quacked into weak light.
Watches were read. Charts consulted. Disappointment voiced.
Regulations state that, for non-tribal members, waterfowl shooting must wait until sunrise.
“Fifteen minutes yet.” We stayed silent. The ducks flew on.
Behind us, in the almost-darkness, a shot burned through. Was it someone ignoring the dawn-light start?
“Probably shooting at a coyote,” my companions said. I nodded.
The clouds above us tumbled through the sky: layers of drab grey, slate blue, and streaks of wind-blown black.
According to the hunters, rain and snow would be best.
“In bad weather, the ducks are moving all over.”
I had only before seen duck hunting through photos in magazines: glossy blue skies, full sun and saturated golds of autumn hills, the birds dazzling like jewels.
Reality, as they say, is a little different.
I was surprised by the glee evident in the men’s faces as the weather turned. “With duck hunting, that nastier the weather, the better it is.” I was told that during storms, fowl move off their sleeping ponds and seek more sheltered waters. That’s when hunters can have their play.
So as the breeze became a wind, and a teardrop rain began to fall, I was the only one thinking “cold.”
Yet amazingly, I wasn’t cold. The blind was well built, a shelter against the elements.
I’d been expecting a nylon pop-up tent, the kind a friend uses in big game hunting. This cattail-reed screen was entirely hand-made, so had all the advantages that only custom work can have: a place for gear. A place for feet. A place for friends who don’t happen to hunt — yet. It had to be sheltering, they said, because “for us, it’s not about killing ducks. It’s about sitting in your blind watching ducks come in.” And watch we did.
“It’s addicting, isn’t it,” I was asked by the man who’d been hunting most his life. He started at age 8. He’s been at it almost 50 years now. “It’s a sickness,” he says. We laugh.
“The best thing about duck hunting,” says the other, “is when big game season starts. ‘Cause then there’s nobody out here.”
I look baffled. Then the men tell me their sport is in decline.
It doesn’t have the hoopla of big game appeal. Not as many gadgets, perhaps. Not as macho an endeavor.
And, as one dedicated elk-hunting friend tells me, “after duck hunting, you have to eat the ducks.”
Elk-guy says that’s the worst of it.
“Ducks are greasy.”
I suggest barbecued kabobs as a way to utilize the birds. “I’ve never tried barbecuing one. Maybe I ought to try that,” he says, contemplating. But I know he prefers his elk.
Me, I’d rather eat birds. But where freezers are concerned, there is a possession limit on duck meat. While the daily take is up to seven ducks per person, there is a total maximum of 14 ducks allowed in your freezer. So if you don’t eat your birds, you can’t take any more. That could put a quick end to your waterfowl season.
The limit is designed to thin the population of male drakes, at least as far as mallards go.
In your daily allowance of seven birds, you can take only two mallard hens. As my duck-blind companions point out, that’s a great reason not to shoot at everything. If you drop two hens early, your day is pretty much over.
Other species, I’m told, are either less of a concern, population-wise, or have no color distinction between the genders. Widgeons and teal fall in this category.
There is no good way to tell, while the birds are in flight, the sex of the fowl. So there is no gender-based limit on these species, providing you stay under the total bag limit of seven.
Still, Elk-guy said, for him, duck hunting is about getting to shoot.
A lot.
“With big game you don’t get too many chances to shoot. With birds, you can shoot your gun all day.”
The gentlemen I was out with disagree.
“Shells are too damn expensive,” they say, “to miss too many.”
So they are careful in their aim. Careful in their shots. They will not fire if they might miss. Overhead, another flock goes by. I point my face to see, and am told “Duck!” — as in, take cover. The sport, they say, is where the term originated. And it has reason.
“You’re face is like a mirror,” they tell me. To the birds circling above, my uncamoflaged cheeks can reflect the morning light, acting as a beacon, warning them off. I tuck my head down, eager to see, but careful lest I ruin their shot.
A single blast calls out. A bird invariably crumples, folds its wings in upon itself and falls to the water’s surface. The dogs jump to do their work.
I am struck by a Labrador’s grace in securing fallen fowl. He gently lifts it from the water’s surface, from the golden grass at water’s edge, from the cold grey ground.
Soft of mouth as only a lab can be, he swims powerfully, playfully through the cold dark waters. Stands dripping in the blind, awaiting the command: “Drop.”
As birds are brought in, they are hung, necks wound through the wires. There is very little blood from the perfect shots. I marvel at that. I’ve slaughtered chickens and cleaned them out, having sliced their necks to kill them. This single-shot hunting, by far, seems more humane.
Before being shot, these birds were flying: slanting, soaring, a-wing — suddenly they are dropped in a quiet death. One shot, not even as loud as the quack of the duck calls. It’s almost peaceful.
It’s not what I’d imagined.
The hunters talk and chuckle as the day emerges. Hunger pangs us all. Why didn’t we think to bring thermoses, or snacks?
Still we do not freeze, though snow clouds roll down the Missions in a menacing way. Grey clouds swirl overhead.
The men use many different calls: a drake’s “buzzing” and hens’ loud quack. Imitation goose honks. Birds circle round to listen.
Ducks come in. They veer, lured by the calls emanating from this artificial clump of reeds.
I learn a drake calls with a trill, not at all the loud, flat quack that one thinks of as “duck.” I’m told that real mallard hens at feed will stop and cock their heads, call up to passing flocks, “GQWACK, GQWACK, GQWACK,” to summon the flyers down.
The artificial calls replicate those sounds, urging birds to come closer, within reach of a hunter’s aim. I try the calls, and find they take a lot of air, and skill, to produce anything remotely like a true quack or honk. My attempts sound more like a flattened bleat, and wouldn’t fool a duckling.
The men call out again; take aim, their faces alight. I join in the excitement, but forget to shoot. My tool is a camera, not a gun, and my aim is not as proficient.
I’ve tried shooting a shotgun before. I know, for me, it is not easy. Again I’m awed by the mastery of the hunters I am watching. They don’t waste shells. They shoot once, and hit a duck.
It’s a remarkable grace.
“Take a picture!” I am told. “Take a picture!”
And I have to stop absorbing the beauty of the scene to do my job.
Bulldog running back proclaimed Team Champ at regional Punt, Pass, Kick competition
(winter '07)ST. IGNATIUS — He made it to Seattle, and did it again. Austin Durglo punted, passed, and kicked a football far enough to win his age group in the regional NFL/Pepsi Punt, Pass and Kick competition held December 9 during halftime at the Seattle Seahawks game.
The 13-year old from St. Ignatius bested kids from throughout the northwest region, which also includes Alaska, Idaho, Oregon and Washington.
For his efforts, Austin earned the honor of NFL Team Champion at the game, receiving a 13 by 15 inch plaque, “Punt, Pass, Kick” sweats and a Seahawks PPK jersey.
Austin, who is in eighth grade at St. Ignatius school, won the 12-13 year old competition in Seattle last year as well.
“We were just in awe of the whole thing,” Austin’s father Dan Durglo said. “We had higher expectations this year” because of Austin’s previous win, he added. And Austin came through.
The hitch, though, comes when moving on from the regional competition to the national challenge, held during the Super Bowl.
To compete there, the regional champ must hold one of the four best distances in the nation (the competition is scored by measuring the distance traveled by the balls the kids punt, pass and kick).
Because the northwest competition is held in Seattle in December, weather affects the results.
“Some of the parents were upset because of the conditions,” Durglo said.
“The weather was pretty cold, but clear,” Austin said. “It was just freezing.”
“We can’t compete nationally against better conditions,” his dad commented.
Montana’s scores are compared to those of kids in Florida, California, and 31 other places where the weather is more conducive to distance efforts.
The reason is simple physics, Austin explained. “When it’s cold, the football doesn’t go as far. When it’s warmer it goes farther.”
The cold toughens the skin, condenses the ball, and those brisk northwest winds combat efforts to push the football far down the line, he explained.
“It s a disadvantage to do it in Seattle,” he said, due to the wintry weather.
Still, Austin had fun, and considers the time well spent.
“It was fun,” he said, adding he’d like to compete again next year if he can.
“It’ll be tougher to do,” though, Austin said, as he’ll have to compete against high school football players from throughout the northwest who have had more experience at the game. “They’re pretty advanced,” he said of the experienced players.
Austin hopes to continue to play football regardless, and while he might someday play college or pro ball, he said those considerations are just too far down the line to predict. “It’s a long way away,” he said.
For now, he’s happy with his win as regional champ. For kids who want to try out next year, Austin has this advice: “Just practice a lot and get ready for it.”
Other area winners include 9-year-old Emilio Bravo of St. Ignatius, who took home a second place finish from the event. In the girls’ competition, 13-year-old Riley Kenney of Polson placed third and 14-year-old Katie Fitzpatrick of Ronan finished fourth.
The 13-year old from St. Ignatius bested kids from throughout the northwest region, which also includes Alaska, Idaho, Oregon and Washington.
For his efforts, Austin earned the honor of NFL Team Champion at the game, receiving a 13 by 15 inch plaque, “Punt, Pass, Kick” sweats and a Seahawks PPK jersey.
Austin, who is in eighth grade at St. Ignatius school, won the 12-13 year old competition in Seattle last year as well.
“We were just in awe of the whole thing,” Austin’s father Dan Durglo said. “We had higher expectations this year” because of Austin’s previous win, he added. And Austin came through.
The hitch, though, comes when moving on from the regional competition to the national challenge, held during the Super Bowl.
To compete there, the regional champ must hold one of the four best distances in the nation (the competition is scored by measuring the distance traveled by the balls the kids punt, pass and kick).
Because the northwest competition is held in Seattle in December, weather affects the results.
“Some of the parents were upset because of the conditions,” Durglo said.
“The weather was pretty cold, but clear,” Austin said. “It was just freezing.”
“We can’t compete nationally against better conditions,” his dad commented.
Montana’s scores are compared to those of kids in Florida, California, and 31 other places where the weather is more conducive to distance efforts.
The reason is simple physics, Austin explained. “When it’s cold, the football doesn’t go as far. When it’s warmer it goes farther.”
The cold toughens the skin, condenses the ball, and those brisk northwest winds combat efforts to push the football far down the line, he explained.
“It s a disadvantage to do it in Seattle,” he said, due to the wintry weather.
Still, Austin had fun, and considers the time well spent.
“It was fun,” he said, adding he’d like to compete again next year if he can.
“It’ll be tougher to do,” though, Austin said, as he’ll have to compete against high school football players from throughout the northwest who have had more experience at the game. “They’re pretty advanced,” he said of the experienced players.
Austin hopes to continue to play football regardless, and while he might someday play college or pro ball, he said those considerations are just too far down the line to predict. “It’s a long way away,” he said.
For now, he’s happy with his win as regional champ. For kids who want to try out next year, Austin has this advice: “Just practice a lot and get ready for it.”
Other area winners include 9-year-old Emilio Bravo of St. Ignatius, who took home a second place finish from the event. In the girls’ competition, 13-year-old Riley Kenney of Polson placed third and 14-year-old Katie Fitzpatrick of Ronan finished fourth.
Well-traveled dog to visit Arlee
(fall '07)ARLEE — Barry Schieber thinks his dog, Moritz, is extraordinary — and one can believe he must be. After all, the real-life Moritz is the star of four children’s books.
The author and his loveable Bernese Mountain Dog will be in Arlee this Saturday to share their stories with readers both familiar and new to their books.
“I didn’t think in a million years I’d be writing children’s books,” Schieber said. “After all, I was an investment banker.”
Seven years ago, when Schieber adopted Moritz, his life changed. Interested in compassionate care, Schieber took the mellow Moritz to Community Medical Center in Missoula for therapy dog training.
“We’d go every week,” the Bigfork author said. “He’s very charismatic. People just dropped everything and started playing with him.”
After an hour of visiting with patients, Moritz would “go to the park next to the hospital and shake off.” Schieber couldn’t shake his emotions after spending time with critically ill patients so easily, though, so he wrote about the incidences to friends.
Soon, the idea to turn the experiences into a children’s book was born.
Nose to Nose, about Moritz’ visits to the hospital, was their first book. A Gift to Share and An Open Heart followed, books about generosity and kindness.
Each book is illustrated by a different artist, and each artist brings something unique yet beautiful to the stories, Schieber says.
“The illustrations are extraordinary. They’re almost photogenic, but still whimsical,” he explained.
Schieber’s books about his dog’s adventures have become so popular,he said, “We don’t do the hospitals anymore, because … interest has expanded.” In fact, next week, he and Moritz will be going to Caroll College in Helena, where Scheiber’s first book is being used as a text for a Psychology class on human-animal bonding.
Moritz’s travels keep him busy. A year and a half ago, Barry took Moritz to Switzerland. The big dog was crated as luggage on the plane, but needed his own train ticket once in Europe. Crowds jostled and shuffled and pushed, yet the dog was calm. That, Schieber says, is Moritz secret.
The two traveled the Swiss countryside again this spring on packed railways, taxis and buses. Despite the constant movement, Moritz remained calm throughout the trip, teaching his human handler about the virtue of patience.
This Saturday, Schieber and Moritz will visit Arlee. They’ll be at the Hangin Art Gallery to read, autograph and “pawograph” their latest book, A Peaceful Mind, based on their Swiss adventures.
“The whole book takes place in Switzertland,” Schieber said.
The artist who illustrated the book, Tracy Carrier, has a Bernese Mountain Dog of her own, and really captured Moritz’ spirit, he added.
Schieber said the morning will include his reading of the book, a question and answer period and of course, visiting with Moritz. The event takes place this Saturday, Sept. 15 at 11 a.m. at the Hangin Art Gallery in Arlee.
The author and his loveable Bernese Mountain Dog will be in Arlee this Saturday to share their stories with readers both familiar and new to their books.
“I didn’t think in a million years I’d be writing children’s books,” Schieber said. “After all, I was an investment banker.”
Seven years ago, when Schieber adopted Moritz, his life changed. Interested in compassionate care, Schieber took the mellow Moritz to Community Medical Center in Missoula for therapy dog training.
“We’d go every week,” the Bigfork author said. “He’s very charismatic. People just dropped everything and started playing with him.”
After an hour of visiting with patients, Moritz would “go to the park next to the hospital and shake off.” Schieber couldn’t shake his emotions after spending time with critically ill patients so easily, though, so he wrote about the incidences to friends.
Soon, the idea to turn the experiences into a children’s book was born.
Nose to Nose, about Moritz’ visits to the hospital, was their first book. A Gift to Share and An Open Heart followed, books about generosity and kindness.
Each book is illustrated by a different artist, and each artist brings something unique yet beautiful to the stories, Schieber says.
“The illustrations are extraordinary. They’re almost photogenic, but still whimsical,” he explained.
Schieber’s books about his dog’s adventures have become so popular,he said, “We don’t do the hospitals anymore, because … interest has expanded.” In fact, next week, he and Moritz will be going to Caroll College in Helena, where Scheiber’s first book is being used as a text for a Psychology class on human-animal bonding.
Moritz’s travels keep him busy. A year and a half ago, Barry took Moritz to Switzerland. The big dog was crated as luggage on the plane, but needed his own train ticket once in Europe. Crowds jostled and shuffled and pushed, yet the dog was calm. That, Schieber says, is Moritz secret.
The two traveled the Swiss countryside again this spring on packed railways, taxis and buses. Despite the constant movement, Moritz remained calm throughout the trip, teaching his human handler about the virtue of patience.
This Saturday, Schieber and Moritz will visit Arlee. They’ll be at the Hangin Art Gallery to read, autograph and “pawograph” their latest book, A Peaceful Mind, based on their Swiss adventures.
“The whole book takes place in Switzertland,” Schieber said.
The artist who illustrated the book, Tracy Carrier, has a Bernese Mountain Dog of her own, and really captured Moritz’ spirit, he added.
Schieber said the morning will include his reading of the book, a question and answer period and of course, visiting with Moritz. The event takes place this Saturday, Sept. 15 at 11 a.m. at the Hangin Art Gallery in Arlee.
Contention over coaches dominates Arlee school board meeting
(Fall '07) ARLEE — The agenda seemed simple enough: approve expenditures and tie up a few loose ends from the previous year, accept this year’s slate of volunteers and school bus drivers, and approve two coaches for the girls’ high school volleyball team. But as with a river calm on the surface, a current lay underneath.
Two main issues about coaching became the hot buttons during the September Arlee school board meeting
At first, business clipped pleasantly along.
Sirius construction was approved to begin planning a new school building, modifying initial designs to properly fit the $4.2 million budget. (The budget is approximately $1.7 million short of what is needed to continue with previous plans.)
Greg Nemoff of Sirius stated “I think it’s doable (but) we’ll have to drop some size.”
“Aesthetically, it may not be as beautiful,” added trustee Becky Clizbe, “but we need function.”
The contractor agreed to use local suppliers when possible, reducing transportation costs.
“We’re happy to work with local people,” Nemoff stated.
The board also requested monthly progress reports form Sirius, which Nemoff said would keep the company “motivated.”
Nemoff targeted spring as the start day to “dig the holes when it thaws,” but cautioned he doesn’t “want to start building with a half set of plans.”
School superintendent John Jay Miller talked with a grant writer at Senator Tester’s office to try to get the additional $1.7 million to complete the school building. He also sent letters to Congressman Rehberg and Senator Baucus.
Asking for the money “has worked in the state for several other reservation schools,” Miller said, and he “felt it’s about time they helped Arlee out.”
The motion to enter an engineering agreement with Sirius passed unanimously.
Then the coaching issues came along.
First was a modification to the Athletic coaches and advisors handbook, disallowing volunteer coaches to ride on busses with students unless they have current CPR and first aid training.
The issue is one of safety, board chair Ron Ritter said. What if the children are in an accident, he wondered. What if the coach, who often sits up front in the bus, and the driver were both injured? Both of those positions requite current CPR certification, but if both were unable to help the kids, what then?
Board member Hank Garde recalled a time when he was in just such a position, and was the only adult on the bus with up-to-date CPR training. All worked out well that time, he said, but he agreed the concern was valid.
The board wanted to assure those volunteers who traveled on busses with the teams, even for a day trips, had the necessary skills should an emergency arise.
The issue at hand had its basis in the different categories of volunteer positions available at the Arlee schools.
Interested parties can be approved as a volunteer, a volunteer coach, or a chaperone.
Each distinction requires different certifications.
Simple volunteers, typically alums who come to town and assist during spring break or holidays, are not required to be finger printed or background checked. They can only assist Arlee sports teams during home practices, where there is plenty of supervision and regular personnel.
Volunteer coaches, on the other hand, can help a team during practice or away games.
However, only approved chaperones can attend overnight functions with the teams.
The discrepancy between what was written in the handbook and what Ritter recalled as the intent of the passage led to some heated discussion.
After checking the electronic records of the previous meeting, clerk Lonnie Morin stated that, indeed, the concerns voiced by Ritter had been addressed, and the intent was clear: any volunteer coach traveling with the team, even for a day trip, needed first aid training. That matter settled, the board went on to approve this year’s volunteers and school bus drivers. Then came another coaching issue.
The girls high school volleyball team was applying to have two co-head coaches, at equal rates of pay, rather than the traditional head and assistant coach. Brian Bigcrane and Lonnie Morin, the applicants, stated this arrangement worked best for them and the team. Bigcrane mentioned his work schedule, which kept him from early practices, and Morin, who had initially applied for the assistant coach’s job, relayed her lack of experience as two reasons the team approach would suit them better. Plus, Morin remarked later, it would eliminate any perception that she was playing favorites, as her daughter is on the team.
Despite the cooperation between the two potential co-head coaches, trustees Becky Clizbe and Hank Garde refused to accept such an agreement, citing personal preferences for a split coaching team.
Garde thought there would be uncertainty if the applicants acted as co-coaches, rather than with distinct titles, and Clizbe insisted, “I’m a black and white sort of person. I don’t like things that are vague.”
“I asked the girls how they considered us,” Bigcrane replied. “They said we are co-head coaches.”
Clizbe replied she did not consider the girls old enough to have a say in the decision, and the vote failed on a two-two tie.
Bigcrane said “I just want to coach,” and offered to take the assistant coach’s position to settle the issue.
Garde then motioned for Morin to be acknowledged head coach, with Bigcrane as assistant coach, still splitting the pay equally. That motion also failed, and the two were finally accepted as coaches, Morin as head coach, and Bigcrane as assistant, at the established rates of pay.
After the meeting, new head coach Lonnie Morin remarked how generous it was for Bigcrane to concede, and exhorted one trustee to thank Bigcrane for his gesture. After all, Morin remarked, this shouldn’t be about any of them, but about the kids.
In other business, student numbers are slightly higher than last year, and a new system for loading students onto buses at the end of the day is going well. Maintenance supervisor Gregg Dougherty ordered all water sampling to be completed in September, and mentioned that the EPA had examined all the school buildings in August and will write up a report detailing district compliance with hazmat standards. All school buses passed inspection, as well.
Two main issues about coaching became the hot buttons during the September Arlee school board meeting
At first, business clipped pleasantly along.
Sirius construction was approved to begin planning a new school building, modifying initial designs to properly fit the $4.2 million budget. (The budget is approximately $1.7 million short of what is needed to continue with previous plans.)
Greg Nemoff of Sirius stated “I think it’s doable (but) we’ll have to drop some size.”
“Aesthetically, it may not be as beautiful,” added trustee Becky Clizbe, “but we need function.”
The contractor agreed to use local suppliers when possible, reducing transportation costs.
“We’re happy to work with local people,” Nemoff stated.
The board also requested monthly progress reports form Sirius, which Nemoff said would keep the company “motivated.”
Nemoff targeted spring as the start day to “dig the holes when it thaws,” but cautioned he doesn’t “want to start building with a half set of plans.”
School superintendent John Jay Miller talked with a grant writer at Senator Tester’s office to try to get the additional $1.7 million to complete the school building. He also sent letters to Congressman Rehberg and Senator Baucus.
Asking for the money “has worked in the state for several other reservation schools,” Miller said, and he “felt it’s about time they helped Arlee out.”
The motion to enter an engineering agreement with Sirius passed unanimously.
Then the coaching issues came along.
First was a modification to the Athletic coaches and advisors handbook, disallowing volunteer coaches to ride on busses with students unless they have current CPR and first aid training.
The issue is one of safety, board chair Ron Ritter said. What if the children are in an accident, he wondered. What if the coach, who often sits up front in the bus, and the driver were both injured? Both of those positions requite current CPR certification, but if both were unable to help the kids, what then?
Board member Hank Garde recalled a time when he was in just such a position, and was the only adult on the bus with up-to-date CPR training. All worked out well that time, he said, but he agreed the concern was valid.
The board wanted to assure those volunteers who traveled on busses with the teams, even for a day trips, had the necessary skills should an emergency arise.
The issue at hand had its basis in the different categories of volunteer positions available at the Arlee schools.
Interested parties can be approved as a volunteer, a volunteer coach, or a chaperone.
Each distinction requires different certifications.
Simple volunteers, typically alums who come to town and assist during spring break or holidays, are not required to be finger printed or background checked. They can only assist Arlee sports teams during home practices, where there is plenty of supervision and regular personnel.
Volunteer coaches, on the other hand, can help a team during practice or away games.
However, only approved chaperones can attend overnight functions with the teams.
The discrepancy between what was written in the handbook and what Ritter recalled as the intent of the passage led to some heated discussion.
After checking the electronic records of the previous meeting, clerk Lonnie Morin stated that, indeed, the concerns voiced by Ritter had been addressed, and the intent was clear: any volunteer coach traveling with the team, even for a day trip, needed first aid training. That matter settled, the board went on to approve this year’s volunteers and school bus drivers. Then came another coaching issue.
The girls high school volleyball team was applying to have two co-head coaches, at equal rates of pay, rather than the traditional head and assistant coach. Brian Bigcrane and Lonnie Morin, the applicants, stated this arrangement worked best for them and the team. Bigcrane mentioned his work schedule, which kept him from early practices, and Morin, who had initially applied for the assistant coach’s job, relayed her lack of experience as two reasons the team approach would suit them better. Plus, Morin remarked later, it would eliminate any perception that she was playing favorites, as her daughter is on the team.
Despite the cooperation between the two potential co-head coaches, trustees Becky Clizbe and Hank Garde refused to accept such an agreement, citing personal preferences for a split coaching team.
Garde thought there would be uncertainty if the applicants acted as co-coaches, rather than with distinct titles, and Clizbe insisted, “I’m a black and white sort of person. I don’t like things that are vague.”
“I asked the girls how they considered us,” Bigcrane replied. “They said we are co-head coaches.”
Clizbe replied she did not consider the girls old enough to have a say in the decision, and the vote failed on a two-two tie.
Bigcrane said “I just want to coach,” and offered to take the assistant coach’s position to settle the issue.
Garde then motioned for Morin to be acknowledged head coach, with Bigcrane as assistant coach, still splitting the pay equally. That motion also failed, and the two were finally accepted as coaches, Morin as head coach, and Bigcrane as assistant, at the established rates of pay.
After the meeting, new head coach Lonnie Morin remarked how generous it was for Bigcrane to concede, and exhorted one trustee to thank Bigcrane for his gesture. After all, Morin remarked, this shouldn’t be about any of them, but about the kids.
In other business, student numbers are slightly higher than last year, and a new system for loading students onto buses at the end of the day is going well. Maintenance supervisor Gregg Dougherty ordered all water sampling to be completed in September, and mentioned that the EPA had examined all the school buildings in August and will write up a report detailing district compliance with hazmat standards. All school buses passed inspection, as well.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Buckle Boys spreading message of safety through seatbelt use
PABLO — Arlee’s Hendrickson brothers circle of fame is growing. Already known for their rodeo skills and polite demeanors, the boys are gaining attention as the “Buckle Boys,” poster guys for a seatbelt-use safety campaign that is a joint project of the Lake County Health Department and the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribal Health Department.
The “Buckle Up, Boys” campaign is part of the Safe Kids, Safe Communities (SKSC) program. The Lake County /Flathead Reservation chapter is one of 15 SKSC coalitions across Montana, said Emily Colomeda, SKSC program coordinator at the Lake County Health Department.
The coalitions’ goals are to prevent accidental death and injury in motor vehicle crashes due to non-use of seatbelts, or from impaired driving.
The program is funded through a grant from the Montana Department of Transportation, and promotes safe driving and impaired driving prevention through a variety of activities, outreach, and education.
The Buckle Up, Boys campaign was designed to target high-risk populations, including teens, male pick-up truck drivers, and American Indians, who tend not to use seat belts, and suffer a high percentage of fatalities and injuries because of it.
“We have three goals: impaired driving prevention, adult seat belt use, and child passenger safety. Those issues are the primary scope of our work,” said Colomeda.
The Hendrickson brothers were selected to promote those issues on the Reservation because they are local, already known, and can help promote seatbelt use as something “real men” do.
The theme of the Buckle Up, Boys campaign is “Buckle up in your truck,” reflecting those populations of drivers least likely to do so.
“It is well documented that pick up truck drivers and their passengers wear safety belts less often than those in passenger cars,” Colomeda said. “Furthermore, pick up trucks are more likely to roll over in a crash, which increases the risk of ejection of the unbelted passengers.”
“This is why we see so many motor vehicle deaths on Montana roadways,” she said. According to the website www.buckleupinyourtruck.com seat belt use reduces the risk of dying in a rollover crash by up to 80%.
The health department wanted to collaborate with tribal health, and coordinated with Margene Asay to come up with some ideas that would target American Indians.
“We wanted to design a poster using local families that people would identify with, as well as relay a positive message about seat belts saving lives,” Colomeda said.
The brothers, Levi, Rusty and Billy, are happy to help out. Last spring, they spent a day undergoing a photo shoot arranged by Margene Asay of tribal health.
Frank Tyro took over 100 shots of the boys on their family ranch to glean the beefcake image that graces the poster.
While he’s a little embarrassed by the attention, Levi Hendrickson said it’s for a good cause. All the boys said they wear their seatbelts.
The brothers have been riding steers and calves since they were each about seven, said Rusty, a senior at Arlee High School.
He plans to follow in his oldest brother’s footsteps and take up Heavy Equipment Operation at the College of Technology in Missoula after high school. Brother Billy graduated from the program in May, and is now an equipment operator for Shulty Construction in Missoula.
Levi, a junior in Equine Management in Dillon, wants to “stay with rodeo for as long as possible, then get a job.”
The brothers were a good choice for the poster, Asay said, because they portray a “real man” image, and prove that being strong equates with being smart when it comes to seat belt use.
Assay hopes to have the boys visit all the reservation schools during the coming year. She also hopes to have a billboard in place, promoting the “buckle up boys” message.
“I don't think any of us ever thought it would become this big,” Colomeda said. “The exposure is great, though. It never hurts to spread the seat belt message.”
The “Buckle Up, Boys” campaign is part of the Safe Kids, Safe Communities (SKSC) program. The Lake County /Flathead Reservation chapter is one of 15 SKSC coalitions across Montana, said Emily Colomeda, SKSC program coordinator at the Lake County Health Department.
The coalitions’ goals are to prevent accidental death and injury in motor vehicle crashes due to non-use of seatbelts, or from impaired driving.
The program is funded through a grant from the Montana Department of Transportation, and promotes safe driving and impaired driving prevention through a variety of activities, outreach, and education.
The Buckle Up, Boys campaign was designed to target high-risk populations, including teens, male pick-up truck drivers, and American Indians, who tend not to use seat belts, and suffer a high percentage of fatalities and injuries because of it.
“We have three goals: impaired driving prevention, adult seat belt use, and child passenger safety. Those issues are the primary scope of our work,” said Colomeda.
The Hendrickson brothers were selected to promote those issues on the Reservation because they are local, already known, and can help promote seatbelt use as something “real men” do.
The theme of the Buckle Up, Boys campaign is “Buckle up in your truck,” reflecting those populations of drivers least likely to do so.
“It is well documented that pick up truck drivers and their passengers wear safety belts less often than those in passenger cars,” Colomeda said. “Furthermore, pick up trucks are more likely to roll over in a crash, which increases the risk of ejection of the unbelted passengers.”
“This is why we see so many motor vehicle deaths on Montana roadways,” she said. According to the website www.buckleupinyourtruck.com seat belt use reduces the risk of dying in a rollover crash by up to 80%.
The health department wanted to collaborate with tribal health, and coordinated with Margene Asay to come up with some ideas that would target American Indians.
“We wanted to design a poster using local families that people would identify with, as well as relay a positive message about seat belts saving lives,” Colomeda said.
The brothers, Levi, Rusty and Billy, are happy to help out. Last spring, they spent a day undergoing a photo shoot arranged by Margene Asay of tribal health.
Frank Tyro took over 100 shots of the boys on their family ranch to glean the beefcake image that graces the poster.
While he’s a little embarrassed by the attention, Levi Hendrickson said it’s for a good cause. All the boys said they wear their seatbelts.
The brothers have been riding steers and calves since they were each about seven, said Rusty, a senior at Arlee High School.
He plans to follow in his oldest brother’s footsteps and take up Heavy Equipment Operation at the College of Technology in Missoula after high school. Brother Billy graduated from the program in May, and is now an equipment operator for Shulty Construction in Missoula.
Levi, a junior in Equine Management in Dillon, wants to “stay with rodeo for as long as possible, then get a job.”
The brothers were a good choice for the poster, Asay said, because they portray a “real man” image, and prove that being strong equates with being smart when it comes to seat belt use.
Assay hopes to have the boys visit all the reservation schools during the coming year. She also hopes to have a billboard in place, promoting the “buckle up boys” message.
“I don't think any of us ever thought it would become this big,” Colomeda said. “The exposure is great, though. It never hurts to spread the seat belt message.”
Woman reclaims building to start business
Local businesswoman Theresa Bradshaw works three jobs to make do.
Bradshaw owns and operates Arlee Bead and Thrift, a combined bead supply and used clothing store.
“I’m trying to find a more catchy name,” she says of her new venture, open since February.
Before she unlocks the store in the mornings, she swamps at Stockman’s Bar. “In between I get a shower,” she says with wry reflection. “It’s just what you have to do in Montana to survive,” she says of her three-job shift. Before swamping, Bradshaw opens the transfer station in town. That job, while having very limited hours, requires her to be available seven days a week.
Bradshaw’s approach is not unique.
“You try to find something that’s close to home so you don’t waste gas,” she said. “And none of them pay worth a damn. I’m just trying to make it.”
Before relocating to Arlee four years ago, Bradshaw worked construction and demolition in California.
“I lived in an area of earthquakes,” she said of her former job, “so we had to earthquake retrofit everything.” Bradshaw worked on bridges — making sure they could withstand the rigorous movements of a temblor.
“I thought I would retire with the company I was with,” she said. But it didn’t happen. So she returned to Montana, a place she’d lived briefly in the early 1980’s. “But boy has it changed around here,” she remarked. “People discovered it.”
Still, she loved the landscape, and the independence.
Then Bradshaw learned of an opportunity.
“I was living out this way,” she said, “and I heard this building was available.” It had been empty ten years, Bradshaw said, “and was just falling apart.”
Over the span of her career, she’d built everything from cabinets to bridges, she said. “I’d been a carpenter in another life, and I knew I could fix it up.”
The front windowpane was plexiglass, and let in very little light, Bradshaw said, plus, “the floor was rotten.” There had been a bad leak from an old bathroom, she said; a water heater had burst.
She needed to jack the floor joists up, “and replaced all the flooring in back.”
“It took me six months because I have carpal tunnel,” she said. “I still haven’t finished.”
But she hasn’t given up.
Bradshaw has visions larger than the store. She would like to turn it into an outlet carrying craft supplies for local artisans.
Bead workers have asked her to carry certain supplies, but right now her ability to do so is limited, she said. She wants to stock beads, leather, feathers, findings — all the items the local artists need to create their goods and keep tourists stopping, and buying, in Arlee, she said.
But for now, she’s slowly working on the store. Selling used clothing to get by. Selling a few handcrafted items, and the beads.
Swamping bar. Doing what it takes.
Bradshaw is ready to settle in for the long haul. She’s willing to build her store slowly, because to her, the benefits of being one’s own boss far outweigh the struggle.
Arlee Bead and Thrift is located on Highway 93, and is open afternoons, Thursday through Sunday.
Bradshaw owns and operates Arlee Bead and Thrift, a combined bead supply and used clothing store.
“I’m trying to find a more catchy name,” she says of her new venture, open since February.
Before she unlocks the store in the mornings, she swamps at Stockman’s Bar. “In between I get a shower,” she says with wry reflection. “It’s just what you have to do in Montana to survive,” she says of her three-job shift. Before swamping, Bradshaw opens the transfer station in town. That job, while having very limited hours, requires her to be available seven days a week.
Bradshaw’s approach is not unique.
“You try to find something that’s close to home so you don’t waste gas,” she said. “And none of them pay worth a damn. I’m just trying to make it.”
Before relocating to Arlee four years ago, Bradshaw worked construction and demolition in California.
“I lived in an area of earthquakes,” she said of her former job, “so we had to earthquake retrofit everything.” Bradshaw worked on bridges — making sure they could withstand the rigorous movements of a temblor.
“I thought I would retire with the company I was with,” she said. But it didn’t happen. So she returned to Montana, a place she’d lived briefly in the early 1980’s. “But boy has it changed around here,” she remarked. “People discovered it.”
Still, she loved the landscape, and the independence.
Then Bradshaw learned of an opportunity.
“I was living out this way,” she said, “and I heard this building was available.” It had been empty ten years, Bradshaw said, “and was just falling apart.”
Over the span of her career, she’d built everything from cabinets to bridges, she said. “I’d been a carpenter in another life, and I knew I could fix it up.”
The front windowpane was plexiglass, and let in very little light, Bradshaw said, plus, “the floor was rotten.” There had been a bad leak from an old bathroom, she said; a water heater had burst.
She needed to jack the floor joists up, “and replaced all the flooring in back.”
“It took me six months because I have carpal tunnel,” she said. “I still haven’t finished.”
But she hasn’t given up.
Bradshaw has visions larger than the store. She would like to turn it into an outlet carrying craft supplies for local artisans.
Bead workers have asked her to carry certain supplies, but right now her ability to do so is limited, she said. She wants to stock beads, leather, feathers, findings — all the items the local artists need to create their goods and keep tourists stopping, and buying, in Arlee, she said.
But for now, she’s slowly working on the store. Selling used clothing to get by. Selling a few handcrafted items, and the beads.
Swamping bar. Doing what it takes.
Bradshaw is ready to settle in for the long haul. She’s willing to build her store slowly, because to her, the benefits of being one’s own boss far outweigh the struggle.
Arlee Bead and Thrift is located on Highway 93, and is open afternoons, Thursday through Sunday.
Public feels excluded from ongoing AFA negotiations for National Bison Range
MOIESE — Two weeks ago, the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes met with Bill West, the Project Leader of the National Bison Range Complex, and Lyle Laverty, the United State’s Assistant Secretary of the Interior, to discuss reimplementation of an annual funding agreement that allows the Tribes increased responsibilities at the National Bison Range.
The meetings, held over two days in Missoula, were closed to the public and the media.
At issue is management of almost 19,000 acres of land under the control of the Interior Department. At odds over that management are the historic land managers, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, within whose reservation boundaries the National Bison Range lies.
If conservationists’ fears are warranted, the management of and accessibility to other public lands is riding the wake of this decision.
The National Bison Range was established in 1908, after the American Bison Society convinced the U.S. government to set aside land to preserve the last of the great buffalo herds that once roamed the country. It was the first time the U.S. Congress appropriated tax dollars to purchase land expressly for wildlife management.
Land was selected on the Flathead Reservation, according to Germaine White, CSKT Information and Education Specialist, because it best suited the needs of the large herbivores. The area around Moiese was selected for its lack of settlement, coupled with proximity to a railroad, needed to ship in the animals from Canada.
White said the land was bought, but the money was held in trust by the government, and did not benefit the Tribes.
“At that time, the tribe was in a custodial relationship with the federal government,” White said. “So the money just transferred within the federal government.”
After a lawsuit in 1971, the Tribes were paid directly for the land. At that time, White said, the Tribes were “awarded fair market value” for the acreage.
For the last 100 years, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has managed that land, to the benefit of the bison and other wildlife as well as the native plants that blanket the range.
It is rightly called the crown jewel of the National Refuge System. Within the boundaries of the National Bison Range are native prairie, forests, wetlands and streams that provide habitat for elk, deer, pronghorn, bighorn sheep, black bear, coyote and ground squirrels, as well as 200 species of birds. The 200-350 bison seem almost incidental when you consider the eagles, bluebirds, ducks, insects and other species that also make the refuge home.
The refuge has been so well taken care of, in fact, that these species thrive, and bison are annually culled from the growing herd to keep the range intact.
In recent years, the U.S. government’s sole management of the Range has been challenged.
At a meeting in December, the CSKT presented their vision for management of the National Bison Range. Tribal attorney Brian Upton said that the Tribes’ interest in managing the National Bison Range was brought about by the 1994 Tribal Self-Governance Act, which allows federally recognized tribes to contract with the U.S. government to manage activities on federally held lands. Upton said that through the law, “If a tribe can demonstrate a cultural, historic and geographical connection to an activity, Congress allows tribes to contract some Interior department programs.”
Under such contracts, known as Annual Funding Agreements, tribes receive a portion of an agency’s operating budget in exchange for carrying out specific duties.
“The CSKT wanted management of the Bison Range on these grounds,” Upton said. But West said that is a fundamental misunderstanding of the 1994 law. “Management of the refuge is still federal,” West said.
In 2003, negotiations began between the CSKT and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service addressing the National Bison Range.
In 2005, an annual funding agreement was established.
At the time West said, 140 of the 300 total managers in the National Wildlife Refuge System reviewed the AFA and signed a letter stating the parameters were unworkable. Nonetheless, the AFA was put in place.
The Tribes contracted for a number of refuge activities, including the care and feeding of penned wild bison. As one source explained, “There was a difference in philosophy between the tribes and the feds” regarding how, and how much, the bison should be fed.
This disagreement, and how the activity was carried out, led to the repeal of the funding agreement by USFWS, and the removal of tribally managed employees from the refuge.
Since that time, the Tribes have been interested in renegotiating the AFA, and regaining a stake in the refuge. But that troubles some, who feel the underlying protocol needs to be addressed first, before a contract is granted.
“It would be irresponsible to enter into a contract or agreement with any party that does not provide a high level of accountability, transparency and economy,” said Evan Hirsche, president of the National Wildlife Refuge Association.
Hirsche said “Our fundamental concern is that we don’t have a Fish and Wildlife Service AFA policy in place. With an AFA policy in place, some of this would have been avoided.”
But even more may be at stake.
Hirsche, like many others, believes any new AFA established at the National Bison Range will be precedent setting, and used as a guide to forge further such agreements at other refuges and National Parks throughout the country.
It’s not an unfounded fear. Published in the Federal Register, the government’s official documentation of its actions, is a list of other public lands available for tribal management. The list includes many national parks and national refuges. The register notes that “any non-Bureau of Indian Affairs program, service, function or activity that is administered by the Department of the Interior, that is otherwise available to Indian tribes or Indians, can be administered by a tribal government through a self-governance funding agreement.”
Passage of a new bill, HR 3994, which generally spells out the parameters for tribal-federal AFAs, would further strengthen the case for tribal management of public lands. HR 3994 “would narrow the grounds to disallow tribal people to manage federal lands in the Interior Department,” Upton said.
For the groups and individuals against such agreements, the biggest issue is the intent of whoever controls the land. Whoever that is, also controls the future of the species that occupy those lands, and for whom those lands are held in trust.
Currently, the US Fish and Wildlife Service manages all National Wildlife Refuge lands in the United States for habitat improvement and the betterment of targeted species. These lands are open to all Americans, regardless of race or heritage.
There is a fear by opponents to a new AFA that if national refuge lands go under the control of a specific tribe, that tribe will shut out non-tribal visitors and researchers, just as they are legally able to do on tribally-owned lands.
Helen Yost, a Natural Resources Conservation doctoral student who has spent years following federal land laws, feels the impacts would be great. Because tribal nations are sovereign governments, Yost said giving tribes control of federal land is akin to handing over U.S. territory to a foreign government.
“You can’t do that,” she commented. “It’s the people’s land. You can’t just give our public land to another country.”
Upton feels differently. “Previous federal policies were not beneficial to tribal members or the tribes,” Upton said.
To some, the Tribes’ interest in managing federal lands is premature.
“Self governance works because it tasks the tribes with delivering services to Indian people,” said one concerned individual.
Through an AFA at the Bison Range, the Tribes will “be tasked with delivering a service to all Americans. But all Americans don’t elect the tribal council. There’s no way for the American people to have feedback or influence over the tribal management.”
“It would be wonderful if we could be allies and not adversarial,” West said with his characteristic hopefulness about the topic.
But it is hard for some to feel that way, because of the closed negotiations. Because tribes are sovereign, any negotiations between them and federal representatives are considered government-to-government negotiations, and can be legally closed to the public.
That doesn’t sit well with Susan Campbell Reneau. Reneau, who fronts the Blue Goose Alliance, an umbrella group of hunters and conservationists based in Missoula, believes the people’s right to know what is happening with their public lands trumps any closed door statute. Her beliefs couldn’t turn the latch at this month’s meetings, however, and Reneau sat quietly in the hall for the full two days of the hearing.
“All we want is the right to quietly observe,” she said.
“Sportsmen that contribute millions of dollars a year to national wildlife refuges through the purchase of the federal duck stamp and the taxation on hunting and fishing equipment through the Dingell-Johnson Act and the Pittman-Robertson Act are especially concerned they are excluded from the meetings,” Reneau said in a message to the Alliance.
“Even though you and I as taxpayers paid for all the national wildlife refuges and national parks, we the people are excluded from listening,” she added.
Reneau, who has long been a watchdog of federal lands policy, was particularly concerned by the fact that the FWS was not scheduled to have any legal representation at the pre-negotiation meetings. The Tribes, she said, were. “After an outcry from conservation groups and individuals on Thursday and Friday of last week, the Department of the Interior gave permission for the FWS to have legal council at the meeting,” Reneau said. “Prior to the outcry, the FWS was not to be represented by legal council.” Despite further urgings from the group, the proceedings were not recorded or filmed.
West would like to see a less confrontational approach to the negotiations. He understands the Tribes’ desire to expand their sovereignty within the reservation boundaries.
“How do you meld the cultural attachment to the land,” he pondered, “but not replace everything that America has done that is good about land management?”
“It would be wonderful if we could be allies and not adversarial,” West said. West has kept vacant positions on the Range unfilled in hopes a new agreement with the Tribes could be worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. Still, he questions wording of some documents. “All other public agencies, according to the Indian Self-determination Act, are referred to as non-BIA programs. But those programs serve all of us, Indian and non-Indian alike.”
Concerns like this are the heart of the resistance to a swiftly-formulated AFA by the National Wildlife Refuge Association.
In a letter sent just prior to the recent pre-negotiation session, the NWRA urged Assistant Secretary Laverty to construct and publish a draft Fish and Wildlife Service AFA protocol. Doing so would ensure the public’s right to comment, Hirsche said, as well as “ensure such agreements advance the mission and purposes of the refuge” in question and the refuge system as a whole.
Press releases from the CSKT both before and after the two-day session do state specifically the National Bison Range will remain under Federal control, as part of the National Wildlife Refuge System and guided by the Fish and Wildlife Services manager.
In a release dated Dec. 7, 2007, the Tribes state “New orders from the Interior Department spell out how negotiations will take place between FWS and CSKT in establishing a new contracting agreement under the Tribal Self-Governance Act. … The directions reiterate that the National Bison Range will remain a federally owned and administered National Wildlife Refuge, which will be managed in compliance with federal laws and regulations.”
From the joint FWS-CSKT press release issued Jan. 17, 2008, the statement was less strong. “Under an AFA, the National Bison Range would remain a national wildlife refuge administered by the Service,” it said.
The meetings in Missoula, Pablo and Denver are aimed at building trust, and that trust must be proven. “You can’t rebuild a relationship in two days,” West mentioned.
Still, it seems the actors are ready to take the stage.
“I don’t think anybody’s looking back,” said Upton.
And, said Laverty, “Folks are ready top roll up their sleeves and go to work.”
The meetings, held over two days in Missoula, were closed to the public and the media.
At issue is management of almost 19,000 acres of land under the control of the Interior Department. At odds over that management are the historic land managers, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, within whose reservation boundaries the National Bison Range lies.
If conservationists’ fears are warranted, the management of and accessibility to other public lands is riding the wake of this decision.
The National Bison Range was established in 1908, after the American Bison Society convinced the U.S. government to set aside land to preserve the last of the great buffalo herds that once roamed the country. It was the first time the U.S. Congress appropriated tax dollars to purchase land expressly for wildlife management.
Land was selected on the Flathead Reservation, according to Germaine White, CSKT Information and Education Specialist, because it best suited the needs of the large herbivores. The area around Moiese was selected for its lack of settlement, coupled with proximity to a railroad, needed to ship in the animals from Canada.
White said the land was bought, but the money was held in trust by the government, and did not benefit the Tribes.
“At that time, the tribe was in a custodial relationship with the federal government,” White said. “So the money just transferred within the federal government.”
After a lawsuit in 1971, the Tribes were paid directly for the land. At that time, White said, the Tribes were “awarded fair market value” for the acreage.
For the last 100 years, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has managed that land, to the benefit of the bison and other wildlife as well as the native plants that blanket the range.
It is rightly called the crown jewel of the National Refuge System. Within the boundaries of the National Bison Range are native prairie, forests, wetlands and streams that provide habitat for elk, deer, pronghorn, bighorn sheep, black bear, coyote and ground squirrels, as well as 200 species of birds. The 200-350 bison seem almost incidental when you consider the eagles, bluebirds, ducks, insects and other species that also make the refuge home.
The refuge has been so well taken care of, in fact, that these species thrive, and bison are annually culled from the growing herd to keep the range intact.
In recent years, the U.S. government’s sole management of the Range has been challenged.
At a meeting in December, the CSKT presented their vision for management of the National Bison Range. Tribal attorney Brian Upton said that the Tribes’ interest in managing the National Bison Range was brought about by the 1994 Tribal Self-Governance Act, which allows federally recognized tribes to contract with the U.S. government to manage activities on federally held lands. Upton said that through the law, “If a tribe can demonstrate a cultural, historic and geographical connection to an activity, Congress allows tribes to contract some Interior department programs.”
Under such contracts, known as Annual Funding Agreements, tribes receive a portion of an agency’s operating budget in exchange for carrying out specific duties.
“The CSKT wanted management of the Bison Range on these grounds,” Upton said. But West said that is a fundamental misunderstanding of the 1994 law. “Management of the refuge is still federal,” West said.
In 2003, negotiations began between the CSKT and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service addressing the National Bison Range.
In 2005, an annual funding agreement was established.
At the time West said, 140 of the 300 total managers in the National Wildlife Refuge System reviewed the AFA and signed a letter stating the parameters were unworkable. Nonetheless, the AFA was put in place.
The Tribes contracted for a number of refuge activities, including the care and feeding of penned wild bison. As one source explained, “There was a difference in philosophy between the tribes and the feds” regarding how, and how much, the bison should be fed.
This disagreement, and how the activity was carried out, led to the repeal of the funding agreement by USFWS, and the removal of tribally managed employees from the refuge.
Since that time, the Tribes have been interested in renegotiating the AFA, and regaining a stake in the refuge. But that troubles some, who feel the underlying protocol needs to be addressed first, before a contract is granted.
“It would be irresponsible to enter into a contract or agreement with any party that does not provide a high level of accountability, transparency and economy,” said Evan Hirsche, president of the National Wildlife Refuge Association.
Hirsche said “Our fundamental concern is that we don’t have a Fish and Wildlife Service AFA policy in place. With an AFA policy in place, some of this would have been avoided.”
But even more may be at stake.
Hirsche, like many others, believes any new AFA established at the National Bison Range will be precedent setting, and used as a guide to forge further such agreements at other refuges and National Parks throughout the country.
It’s not an unfounded fear. Published in the Federal Register, the government’s official documentation of its actions, is a list of other public lands available for tribal management. The list includes many national parks and national refuges. The register notes that “any non-Bureau of Indian Affairs program, service, function or activity that is administered by the Department of the Interior, that is otherwise available to Indian tribes or Indians, can be administered by a tribal government through a self-governance funding agreement.”
Passage of a new bill, HR 3994, which generally spells out the parameters for tribal-federal AFAs, would further strengthen the case for tribal management of public lands. HR 3994 “would narrow the grounds to disallow tribal people to manage federal lands in the Interior Department,” Upton said.
For the groups and individuals against such agreements, the biggest issue is the intent of whoever controls the land. Whoever that is, also controls the future of the species that occupy those lands, and for whom those lands are held in trust.
Currently, the US Fish and Wildlife Service manages all National Wildlife Refuge lands in the United States for habitat improvement and the betterment of targeted species. These lands are open to all Americans, regardless of race or heritage.
There is a fear by opponents to a new AFA that if national refuge lands go under the control of a specific tribe, that tribe will shut out non-tribal visitors and researchers, just as they are legally able to do on tribally-owned lands.
Helen Yost, a Natural Resources Conservation doctoral student who has spent years following federal land laws, feels the impacts would be great. Because tribal nations are sovereign governments, Yost said giving tribes control of federal land is akin to handing over U.S. territory to a foreign government.
“You can’t do that,” she commented. “It’s the people’s land. You can’t just give our public land to another country.”
Upton feels differently. “Previous federal policies were not beneficial to tribal members or the tribes,” Upton said.
To some, the Tribes’ interest in managing federal lands is premature.
“Self governance works because it tasks the tribes with delivering services to Indian people,” said one concerned individual.
Through an AFA at the Bison Range, the Tribes will “be tasked with delivering a service to all Americans. But all Americans don’t elect the tribal council. There’s no way for the American people to have feedback or influence over the tribal management.”
“It would be wonderful if we could be allies and not adversarial,” West said with his characteristic hopefulness about the topic.
But it is hard for some to feel that way, because of the closed negotiations. Because tribes are sovereign, any negotiations between them and federal representatives are considered government-to-government negotiations, and can be legally closed to the public.
That doesn’t sit well with Susan Campbell Reneau. Reneau, who fronts the Blue Goose Alliance, an umbrella group of hunters and conservationists based in Missoula, believes the people’s right to know what is happening with their public lands trumps any closed door statute. Her beliefs couldn’t turn the latch at this month’s meetings, however, and Reneau sat quietly in the hall for the full two days of the hearing.
“All we want is the right to quietly observe,” she said.
“Sportsmen that contribute millions of dollars a year to national wildlife refuges through the purchase of the federal duck stamp and the taxation on hunting and fishing equipment through the Dingell-Johnson Act and the Pittman-Robertson Act are especially concerned they are excluded from the meetings,” Reneau said in a message to the Alliance.
“Even though you and I as taxpayers paid for all the national wildlife refuges and national parks, we the people are excluded from listening,” she added.
Reneau, who has long been a watchdog of federal lands policy, was particularly concerned by the fact that the FWS was not scheduled to have any legal representation at the pre-negotiation meetings. The Tribes, she said, were. “After an outcry from conservation groups and individuals on Thursday and Friday of last week, the Department of the Interior gave permission for the FWS to have legal council at the meeting,” Reneau said. “Prior to the outcry, the FWS was not to be represented by legal council.” Despite further urgings from the group, the proceedings were not recorded or filmed.
West would like to see a less confrontational approach to the negotiations. He understands the Tribes’ desire to expand their sovereignty within the reservation boundaries.
“How do you meld the cultural attachment to the land,” he pondered, “but not replace everything that America has done that is good about land management?”
“It would be wonderful if we could be allies and not adversarial,” West said. West has kept vacant positions on the Range unfilled in hopes a new agreement with the Tribes could be worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. Still, he questions wording of some documents. “All other public agencies, according to the Indian Self-determination Act, are referred to as non-BIA programs. But those programs serve all of us, Indian and non-Indian alike.”
Concerns like this are the heart of the resistance to a swiftly-formulated AFA by the National Wildlife Refuge Association.
In a letter sent just prior to the recent pre-negotiation session, the NWRA urged Assistant Secretary Laverty to construct and publish a draft Fish and Wildlife Service AFA protocol. Doing so would ensure the public’s right to comment, Hirsche said, as well as “ensure such agreements advance the mission and purposes of the refuge” in question and the refuge system as a whole.
Press releases from the CSKT both before and after the two-day session do state specifically the National Bison Range will remain under Federal control, as part of the National Wildlife Refuge System and guided by the Fish and Wildlife Services manager.
In a release dated Dec. 7, 2007, the Tribes state “New orders from the Interior Department spell out how negotiations will take place between FWS and CSKT in establishing a new contracting agreement under the Tribal Self-Governance Act. … The directions reiterate that the National Bison Range will remain a federally owned and administered National Wildlife Refuge, which will be managed in compliance with federal laws and regulations.”
From the joint FWS-CSKT press release issued Jan. 17, 2008, the statement was less strong. “Under an AFA, the National Bison Range would remain a national wildlife refuge administered by the Service,” it said.
The meetings in Missoula, Pablo and Denver are aimed at building trust, and that trust must be proven. “You can’t rebuild a relationship in two days,” West mentioned.
Still, it seems the actors are ready to take the stage.
“I don’t think anybody’s looking back,” said Upton.
And, said Laverty, “Folks are ready top roll up their sleeves and go to work.”
Feisty forum spurs candidate comments
ARLEE — The silent darkness outside belied the fire within a well-designed candidate forum at the Arlee Salish Senior Center Monday evening.
Candidates each answered four simple yes or no questions, plus one additional question chosen at random.
The queries all were to-the-point, issues important to tribal members. The questions brought forth strong responses, form both the responders and those listening.
Every candidate asked agreed that the Char-Koosta newspaper should not be censored. Most added it did need to be edited, and that issues of libel and slander were becoming more common.
Jami Hawk-Hamel, of Arlee, said bluntly the Char-Koosta is not a newspaper, but a newsletter of the tribe.
While all the candidates believed tribal minutes should also be free from censure, Bud Moran believed they should be restricted somewhat in content. Mike Dolson may have stated more clearly the feeling Moran was trying to get across: “I want to see minutes that are edited and understandable, but not censored.”
Redistricting was another topic that generated audience response. All the candidates said the collective tribal membership should decide the issue.
Sovereignty was a hot-button topic, eliciting applause and queries form the audience.
But the strongest statements form candidates came from the random questions they were given.
Terry Pitts suggested a reservation-wide database be created, to list all members and their abilities. This would aid in filling employment positions, he said.
Bud Moran suggested a night-bus or shuttle service for elderly tribal members.
“A lot of elders didn’t plan to retire,” he said, explaining that the tribal life expectancy was only 50 years when many of today’s elders were children. “We should do something for these people,” he said. “We’re not that bad off” financially as a tribe that they should be ignored, he said.
Moran also mentioned that the current tribal per capita payment is based in energy contracts held through Kerr Dam. “That should be able to be sustained” once the tribe takes over management of the dam in just over seven years, he said. “If we didn’t have Kerr,” he concluded, “we’d be hurting.”
Jami Hawk-Hamel pointed out “There are tribal employees afraid to speak up for fear they will lose their jobs.” She believes this shouldn’t be so. She also stated the tribes become too dependant on federal funds.
“When we accept federal funds, there’s always strings attached to it,” she said. “The council needs to find a way, as a tribe, to diversify its economic base.”
Joe Dupuis thanked everyone for attending, and for being interested.
He said, “I bring to this effort a passion, not a platform” in the tribe’s fight for self-governance. “The federal government continues to allow the state to intrude with what we can do on the reservation.”
He asked the crowd, “If we develop solutions with people outside this reservation, or develop solutions with just the tribal council, how can we ask you to support that?”
When asked about the potential astronomical cost of litigating water rights, Dupuis answered “I understand the tribal council is preparing to spend that money right now.” In addition, he said the tribe is predicting a $7 million budget shortfall next year due to the cost of litigation. “You have to arm yourself with the best legal representation you can find,” he noted.
“Water is the last major resource on this reservation there will be a battle for,” Dupuis concluded.
Mike Dolson suggested other tribes might join the Confederated Salish and Kootenai’s battle for water rights, or at least offer monetary support for that fight.
Most audience members felt the current council does not honestly disperse financial information to the membership.
“We’re given this joke of a report,” Lois Friedlander said from the crowd.
She stirred the audience, saying, “We can’t stop here. We need to start concerning ourselves with all the issues. We have to keep the council on track.”
“When we don’t like what our council is doing, take ‘em out!” she rallied. “If they want to get paid like corporate executives, start producing like corporate executives.”
The candidates seemed to take the hint in their replies.
Candidates each answered four simple yes or no questions, plus one additional question chosen at random.
The queries all were to-the-point, issues important to tribal members. The questions brought forth strong responses, form both the responders and those listening.
Every candidate asked agreed that the Char-Koosta newspaper should not be censored. Most added it did need to be edited, and that issues of libel and slander were becoming more common.
Jami Hawk-Hamel, of Arlee, said bluntly the Char-Koosta is not a newspaper, but a newsletter of the tribe.
While all the candidates believed tribal minutes should also be free from censure, Bud Moran believed they should be restricted somewhat in content. Mike Dolson may have stated more clearly the feeling Moran was trying to get across: “I want to see minutes that are edited and understandable, but not censored.”
Redistricting was another topic that generated audience response. All the candidates said the collective tribal membership should decide the issue.
Sovereignty was a hot-button topic, eliciting applause and queries form the audience.
But the strongest statements form candidates came from the random questions they were given.
Terry Pitts suggested a reservation-wide database be created, to list all members and their abilities. This would aid in filling employment positions, he said.
Bud Moran suggested a night-bus or shuttle service for elderly tribal members.
“A lot of elders didn’t plan to retire,” he said, explaining that the tribal life expectancy was only 50 years when many of today’s elders were children. “We should do something for these people,” he said. “We’re not that bad off” financially as a tribe that they should be ignored, he said.
Moran also mentioned that the current tribal per capita payment is based in energy contracts held through Kerr Dam. “That should be able to be sustained” once the tribe takes over management of the dam in just over seven years, he said. “If we didn’t have Kerr,” he concluded, “we’d be hurting.”
Jami Hawk-Hamel pointed out “There are tribal employees afraid to speak up for fear they will lose their jobs.” She believes this shouldn’t be so. She also stated the tribes become too dependant on federal funds.
“When we accept federal funds, there’s always strings attached to it,” she said. “The council needs to find a way, as a tribe, to diversify its economic base.”
Joe Dupuis thanked everyone for attending, and for being interested.
He said, “I bring to this effort a passion, not a platform” in the tribe’s fight for self-governance. “The federal government continues to allow the state to intrude with what we can do on the reservation.”
He asked the crowd, “If we develop solutions with people outside this reservation, or develop solutions with just the tribal council, how can we ask you to support that?”
When asked about the potential astronomical cost of litigating water rights, Dupuis answered “I understand the tribal council is preparing to spend that money right now.” In addition, he said the tribe is predicting a $7 million budget shortfall next year due to the cost of litigation. “You have to arm yourself with the best legal representation you can find,” he noted.
“Water is the last major resource on this reservation there will be a battle for,” Dupuis concluded.
Mike Dolson suggested other tribes might join the Confederated Salish and Kootenai’s battle for water rights, or at least offer monetary support for that fight.
Most audience members felt the current council does not honestly disperse financial information to the membership.
“We’re given this joke of a report,” Lois Friedlander said from the crowd.
She stirred the audience, saying, “We can’t stop here. We need to start concerning ourselves with all the issues. We have to keep the council on track.”
“When we don’t like what our council is doing, take ‘em out!” she rallied. “If they want to get paid like corporate executives, start producing like corporate executives.”
The candidates seemed to take the hint in their replies.
School board reverses itself on new CPR requirement
ARLEE — The Arlee School Board, administration and concerned public deliberated nearly two hours Tuesday night over whether or not volunteer coaches should be required to hold CPR and first aid certification. It was the second reading of an amendment that would have required the training.
The issue, part of the board’s “old business,” was argued on both sides, with proponents of the change touting student safety as a primary concern.
Volunteer coaches are not now required to know first aid or CPR, but paid coaches are. Should an injured child need hospitalization, paid staff accompany them to the hospital, leaving other students under the guidance of someone who might not be equipped to handle an emergency, proponents said.
Opponents stated if the students were away from the school, a CPR/ first aid trained bus driver would be available, and if they were at school, other trained staff would be on hand. Regular volunteers and teachers are not required to be first aid certified, however.
Doug Lefler, the Board’s vice chair, said the issue needed to be addressed because of current “inconsistencies with this policy.”
He noted that chaperones, who can travel with the team, are not required to have CPR or first aid.
“I think its actually cutting down on volunteer participation,” he said, intimating community members are not signing up to assist the school due to the potential requirement.
“It’s my opinion that we don’t require any of our volunteers to have CPR or first aid,” he said.
PE/ health instructor Susan Carney said, “When I go on my ski trips or golf trips I prefer to have staff members come with us, but that’s not always possible. I’d rather take (a volunteer) who is (trained in first aid), than somebody who isn’t.”
The risk of liability, both from untrained volunteers or volunteers left alone with a team, was of concern to Elementary Principal Lisa Miller.
“We don’t ever want them to be alone” with the students, she said. There should always be paid, trained staff present, she emphasized.
Carney, who teaches first aid, agreed. “If you have an untrained volunteer left alone with a student and they make a wrong (medical treatment) choice, we’re in trouble.”
“Somebody can only react as far as they’ve been trained,” she said.
Board Chair Ron Ritter, who pushed for the CPR requirement, said, “I hate to see this thing get so complicated.”
He explained his vision for the hierarchy of volunteer categories at the district.
“Volunteers are the lowest level; you get higher up and you’re a chaperone. You have to have board certification and a background check. The third level of volunteerism is a volunteer coach. You’ve completed the background check required of a chaperone, plus MHSA certification. Then the board said we also want those coaches to have CPR and first aid like a paid coach.”
The Montana High School Association, or MHSA, is “the policy setter for the activities and athletics in the state of Montana,” Activity Director Melinda Pablo said.
“The only requirement, whether they’re a volunteer coach or a paid coach — through the state of Montana — is that thy complete the online coaching certification … offer(ed) through their website.
CPR and first aid is strictly a local level requirement.”
MHSA certification has been required of volunteer coaches for seven years, said High School Principal Richard Bachmeier.
He believes the online course is fairly thorough.
There are eight modules to the test, he said, dealing with age-related health and safety issues regarding student athletes.
“It’s a pretty good training tool,” he said.
Applicants must score 80 percent or more on each section to be certified as a volunteer coach. Certification is good for three years.
Paid coaches do not need to be school staff, but must hold MHSA certification, plus complete CPR and first aid training before being offered a position, he said.
Still, Bachmeier said, “It’s just a paper test.” Coaches are not given any practical, hands on training in youth interaction, coaching methods, or mentoring.
“The more formal stuff you put in, the more trouble you have getting people to sign up,” he said.
“You want as many of your community members as possible to come help you out, and help with their kids. But there’s the safety aspect. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
Board member Hank Adams put it to the point. He said to Bachmeier, “You would be in favor of this policy the way it is? Unpaid coached will have CPR?”
Bachmeier said, “from a legal standpoint I’d say yes. From my gut feeling, I’d say no. I think we’re going to cut off an awful lot of people who can help out. From an administrator’s standpoint, I think you’re a lot better off with the CPR.”
Local mom and school volunteer Jill Couture asked, “Why wouldn’t you want to have the most qualified person possible? If (coaching) is something you want to do, you’ll get the first aid training.”
Carney told members first aid training was readily available (she teaches it at the school) and is “not that hard to get.”
But after further deliberation, the board reversed last month’s decision and opted to remove the requirement that volunteer coaches be required to hold valid first aid and CPR certificates.
In other business, a school-wide bus safety assembly will be held near the end of Oct. to remind students of proper procedure when riding buses. Bus evacuation protocol will also be reviewed.
Elementary Principal Lisa Miller reported DIBELS testing is completed, and results are being analyzed. She also said five more individuals have signed up for substitute teacher training.
Maintenance supervisor Gregg Dougherty reported a submersible pump was replaced, all hoses and sprinklers have been stored for winter and a new ice machine is on order for the elementary school.
Principal Bachmeier said the official attendance numbers for the year have been set, with the high school having 128 students, and the junior high 70. Those numbers are up from projections last spring, he said.
He also announced that 40 students had made the honor roll, with GPAs of 3.3 or above. “The staff, overall, is impressed with the work ethic of most of the students,” he said.
Bachmeier also announced that the High School students had set two goals for the coming year. One is to improve the parent interface on the school’s website, and the other is to put “Salish signs over all the classrooms, and learn to pronounce them correctly.”
Junior High students opted to spend money they earned by meeting the school’s Annual Yearly Progress on the purchase of books.
Finally, he wanted to share that “we have a wonderful staff and they go out of their way to help the kids.”
Superintendent John Miller remarked he was impressed by the level of participation during the school’s recent Spirit Week, and said, “The district seems happy, healthy, and we’re moving forward. I’m having a good time.”
Finally, a slate of new volunteers was approved, kitchen aides were hired, and the board accepted two resignations, from Melissa Wurm and Assistant Volleyball Coach Brian Big Sam.
The meeting adjourned at approximately 10:30 p.m.
The issue, part of the board’s “old business,” was argued on both sides, with proponents of the change touting student safety as a primary concern.
Volunteer coaches are not now required to know first aid or CPR, but paid coaches are. Should an injured child need hospitalization, paid staff accompany them to the hospital, leaving other students under the guidance of someone who might not be equipped to handle an emergency, proponents said.
Opponents stated if the students were away from the school, a CPR/ first aid trained bus driver would be available, and if they were at school, other trained staff would be on hand. Regular volunteers and teachers are not required to be first aid certified, however.
Doug Lefler, the Board’s vice chair, said the issue needed to be addressed because of current “inconsistencies with this policy.”
He noted that chaperones, who can travel with the team, are not required to have CPR or first aid.
“I think its actually cutting down on volunteer participation,” he said, intimating community members are not signing up to assist the school due to the potential requirement.
“It’s my opinion that we don’t require any of our volunteers to have CPR or first aid,” he said.
PE/ health instructor Susan Carney said, “When I go on my ski trips or golf trips I prefer to have staff members come with us, but that’s not always possible. I’d rather take (a volunteer) who is (trained in first aid), than somebody who isn’t.”
The risk of liability, both from untrained volunteers or volunteers left alone with a team, was of concern to Elementary Principal Lisa Miller.
“We don’t ever want them to be alone” with the students, she said. There should always be paid, trained staff present, she emphasized.
Carney, who teaches first aid, agreed. “If you have an untrained volunteer left alone with a student and they make a wrong (medical treatment) choice, we’re in trouble.”
“Somebody can only react as far as they’ve been trained,” she said.
Board Chair Ron Ritter, who pushed for the CPR requirement, said, “I hate to see this thing get so complicated.”
He explained his vision for the hierarchy of volunteer categories at the district.
“Volunteers are the lowest level; you get higher up and you’re a chaperone. You have to have board certification and a background check. The third level of volunteerism is a volunteer coach. You’ve completed the background check required of a chaperone, plus MHSA certification. Then the board said we also want those coaches to have CPR and first aid like a paid coach.”
The Montana High School Association, or MHSA, is “the policy setter for the activities and athletics in the state of Montana,” Activity Director Melinda Pablo said.
“The only requirement, whether they’re a volunteer coach or a paid coach — through the state of Montana — is that thy complete the online coaching certification … offer(ed) through their website.
CPR and first aid is strictly a local level requirement.”
MHSA certification has been required of volunteer coaches for seven years, said High School Principal Richard Bachmeier.
He believes the online course is fairly thorough.
There are eight modules to the test, he said, dealing with age-related health and safety issues regarding student athletes.
“It’s a pretty good training tool,” he said.
Applicants must score 80 percent or more on each section to be certified as a volunteer coach. Certification is good for three years.
Paid coaches do not need to be school staff, but must hold MHSA certification, plus complete CPR and first aid training before being offered a position, he said.
Still, Bachmeier said, “It’s just a paper test.” Coaches are not given any practical, hands on training in youth interaction, coaching methods, or mentoring.
“The more formal stuff you put in, the more trouble you have getting people to sign up,” he said.
“You want as many of your community members as possible to come help you out, and help with their kids. But there’s the safety aspect. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
Board member Hank Adams put it to the point. He said to Bachmeier, “You would be in favor of this policy the way it is? Unpaid coached will have CPR?”
Bachmeier said, “from a legal standpoint I’d say yes. From my gut feeling, I’d say no. I think we’re going to cut off an awful lot of people who can help out. From an administrator’s standpoint, I think you’re a lot better off with the CPR.”
Local mom and school volunteer Jill Couture asked, “Why wouldn’t you want to have the most qualified person possible? If (coaching) is something you want to do, you’ll get the first aid training.”
Carney told members first aid training was readily available (she teaches it at the school) and is “not that hard to get.”
But after further deliberation, the board reversed last month’s decision and opted to remove the requirement that volunteer coaches be required to hold valid first aid and CPR certificates.
In other business, a school-wide bus safety assembly will be held near the end of Oct. to remind students of proper procedure when riding buses. Bus evacuation protocol will also be reviewed.
Elementary Principal Lisa Miller reported DIBELS testing is completed, and results are being analyzed. She also said five more individuals have signed up for substitute teacher training.
Maintenance supervisor Gregg Dougherty reported a submersible pump was replaced, all hoses and sprinklers have been stored for winter and a new ice machine is on order for the elementary school.
Principal Bachmeier said the official attendance numbers for the year have been set, with the high school having 128 students, and the junior high 70. Those numbers are up from projections last spring, he said.
He also announced that 40 students had made the honor roll, with GPAs of 3.3 or above. “The staff, overall, is impressed with the work ethic of most of the students,” he said.
Bachmeier also announced that the High School students had set two goals for the coming year. One is to improve the parent interface on the school’s website, and the other is to put “Salish signs over all the classrooms, and learn to pronounce them correctly.”
Junior High students opted to spend money they earned by meeting the school’s Annual Yearly Progress on the purchase of books.
Finally, he wanted to share that “we have a wonderful staff and they go out of their way to help the kids.”
Superintendent John Miller remarked he was impressed by the level of participation during the school’s recent Spirit Week, and said, “The district seems happy, healthy, and we’re moving forward. I’m having a good time.”
Finally, a slate of new volunteers was approved, kitchen aides were hired, and the board accepted two resignations, from Melissa Wurm and Assistant Volleyball Coach Brian Big Sam.
The meeting adjourned at approximately 10:30 p.m.
Changing the face of Arlee
ARLEE — Dave Wolverton has a vision for Arlee — and it’s not the one that you currently see when you pass through the town, he makes clear.
“The majority of people going by wouldn’t know there are any nice businesses here,” he said, because the external appearances are dilapidated.
“A nice exterior says you have something nice on the inside,” he emphasized, explaining that you can’t attract customers with a plain brown box.
So Wolverton is beautifying the corner of Highway 93 and Powwow Road, planning a Spanish style stucco building on the site.
The area has traditionally been used to host farm stands in the growing season, and craft vendors during the annual Arlee Powwow.
Wolverton’s parents owned the property, but it was his wife’s vision that sparked the redevelopment.
Originally form Spain, she wanted to bring some of that European flavor to her adopted home.
“She always had dreams of a little coffee stand,” he said.
But Wolverton’s dreams have changed.
His wife was killed in a collision with a cement truck five years ago, said his friend and neighbor Nick Tomlanovich.
And Wolverton is being practical.
“We have several coffee stands in town,” he said. Arlee certainly has no need for a big-box store, either, he said.
Wolverton sees big retail outlets as ordinary, and believes, as far as business goes, “If you’re ordinary, you’re dead.” And he doesn’t feel Arlee is dead — despite present appearances.
What he wants to do, he said, is serve Arlee, and better the community by improving its visual appeal. So he started with the vacant lot, and with a fence.
“We’re kind of doing it backwards,” said Tomlanovich. “Most people build a building first.”
Instead, the men hired Roger Williams of Saint Ignatius to handcraft the wrought iron fence that now surrounds the property. Then they built a gazebo, and landscaped it with blooming roses.
Tomlanovich, who was “talked out of retirement” by Wolverton and his vision, was standing in the deep foundation of a “retail dry goods” type building that the men have plans to build Depending on the weather, Tomlanovich said, “we could start building next week.”
Once they start, the men estimate the construction will take only six to eight weeks.
The men are building long-term retail space using local contractor Chad Bustad. Bustad moved to the area from Arizona, and has years of experience in Spanish style architecture, Tomlanovich said. Their building, though, will be “not real Spanish, but kind of tailored that way.”
It’s imperitave to Wolverton to offer something aesthetically pleasing to the community, and future customers.
What will occupy the new retail space is still unknown.
“Arlee doesn’t need anything,” Wolverton said, “when you’re only twenty minutes from North Reserve.”
North Reserve, he added, has the “third largest conglomeration of box stores between Minneapolis and Seattle.”
And instead of a commercial retail strip of its own, “Arlee needs to be a destination.”
Wolverton envisions a community like Bigfork, unique in its offerings, calling out to be visited on weekends. He wants to “pull the Missoula population up as a client base,” and use Bigfork as a model, but not a blueprint.
So he considers what Arlee can offer.
“The cherry people,” he said, “serve the purpose of just getting people to stop.” That’s a first step.
As any businessman knows, you need to get people in the door.
Wolverton believes he can help all the businesses in the community by stopping traffic, and having people look around.
“Coming from Missoula, this is one of the first things one encounters,” he said. So the image his new venture portrays has to be matched by the substance inside.
“There’s lots of ordinary in Missoula.” Arlee, instead, needs to allure.
One thing visitors won’t encounter is fast food.
“Absolutely no restaurants,” Wolverton stated.
Whatever the ultimate tenant is, it will be quality.
“You’ve got to obliterate the image (of blight) and recreate something,” he said. “You’ve got to make it look nice.”
“The majority of people going by wouldn’t know there are any nice businesses here,” he said, because the external appearances are dilapidated.
“A nice exterior says you have something nice on the inside,” he emphasized, explaining that you can’t attract customers with a plain brown box.
So Wolverton is beautifying the corner of Highway 93 and Powwow Road, planning a Spanish style stucco building on the site.
The area has traditionally been used to host farm stands in the growing season, and craft vendors during the annual Arlee Powwow.
Wolverton’s parents owned the property, but it was his wife’s vision that sparked the redevelopment.
Originally form Spain, she wanted to bring some of that European flavor to her adopted home.
“She always had dreams of a little coffee stand,” he said.
But Wolverton’s dreams have changed.
His wife was killed in a collision with a cement truck five years ago, said his friend and neighbor Nick Tomlanovich.
And Wolverton is being practical.
“We have several coffee stands in town,” he said. Arlee certainly has no need for a big-box store, either, he said.
Wolverton sees big retail outlets as ordinary, and believes, as far as business goes, “If you’re ordinary, you’re dead.” And he doesn’t feel Arlee is dead — despite present appearances.
What he wants to do, he said, is serve Arlee, and better the community by improving its visual appeal. So he started with the vacant lot, and with a fence.
“We’re kind of doing it backwards,” said Tomlanovich. “Most people build a building first.”
Instead, the men hired Roger Williams of Saint Ignatius to handcraft the wrought iron fence that now surrounds the property. Then they built a gazebo, and landscaped it with blooming roses.
Tomlanovich, who was “talked out of retirement” by Wolverton and his vision, was standing in the deep foundation of a “retail dry goods” type building that the men have plans to build Depending on the weather, Tomlanovich said, “we could start building next week.”
Once they start, the men estimate the construction will take only six to eight weeks.
The men are building long-term retail space using local contractor Chad Bustad. Bustad moved to the area from Arizona, and has years of experience in Spanish style architecture, Tomlanovich said. Their building, though, will be “not real Spanish, but kind of tailored that way.”
It’s imperitave to Wolverton to offer something aesthetically pleasing to the community, and future customers.
What will occupy the new retail space is still unknown.
“Arlee doesn’t need anything,” Wolverton said, “when you’re only twenty minutes from North Reserve.”
North Reserve, he added, has the “third largest conglomeration of box stores between Minneapolis and Seattle.”
And instead of a commercial retail strip of its own, “Arlee needs to be a destination.”
Wolverton envisions a community like Bigfork, unique in its offerings, calling out to be visited on weekends. He wants to “pull the Missoula population up as a client base,” and use Bigfork as a model, but not a blueprint.
So he considers what Arlee can offer.
“The cherry people,” he said, “serve the purpose of just getting people to stop.” That’s a first step.
As any businessman knows, you need to get people in the door.
Wolverton believes he can help all the businesses in the community by stopping traffic, and having people look around.
“Coming from Missoula, this is one of the first things one encounters,” he said. So the image his new venture portrays has to be matched by the substance inside.
“There’s lots of ordinary in Missoula.” Arlee, instead, needs to allure.
One thing visitors won’t encounter is fast food.
“Absolutely no restaurants,” Wolverton stated.
Whatever the ultimate tenant is, it will be quality.
“You’ve got to obliterate the image (of blight) and recreate something,” he said. “You’ve got to make it look nice.”
Thrill me now
Billy Jean is not my lover.
In fact, when Michael Jackson sang those words 25 years ago, I blushed the blush of the truly innocent. I couldn’t sing along. Speaking such words aloud was verboten in my mother’s household.
That was then.
Driving from Ronan to Mission the other night, I flipped on NPR for some aural culture. The announcer said Michael Jackson’s album Thriller was 25 years old.
My first response was, “Gee, does that mean I’m old, too?”
When Thriller first hit the charts (it’s still the second best selling album of all time), I was a freshman in college. My dance teacher liked the tracks, for trying to teach us jazz steps and movements.
Being the cloistered white girl I was, let’s just say the rhythm escaped me. But I listened to the words.
Always a geek, I loved Shakespeare and London and Emerson for the crafting of their words. They expressed ideas with clarity like thinnest ice. And here, blasted through speakers in a public gym, were songs “off the street,” to my sheltered ears.
Songs about a man whose not-girlfriend turns up with a baby she says is his. Songs like Paul McCartney’s duet with Jackson, “The Doggone Girl is Mine,” which reached into the hidden places of America with the notion that segregation was, indeed, dead.
It wasn’t many years before that I stood with a group of students in an emergency assembly when our school was threatened by a White Power gang. Never mind that I was white. I didn’t know to make that distinction.
Now Jackson was singing with pop idol McCartney, dickering politely over a single girl. It was a testament to the progress of the civil rights movement that these two singers, from different colored worlds, shared a hit song. It was as if they were announcing to the larger world, “Hey! This is America! We’ve grown up!” It was as if that racial disparity of the decade before had been, not just set aside, but obliterated.
(All this insight because I couldn’t learn some dance steps, so I had to go and psychoanalyze a song.)
The music I grew up listening to was colorblind as well. Bill Withers lamented “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone,” while the Carpenters sat on top of the world and Johnny Cash fell into a burning ring of fire. There weren’t as many distinctions between style, color, or format on the radio those days. After all, there was AM, and that was about it.
But Michael Jackson was always part of “soul music.”
In fourth grade, my music teacher asked the class to name their favorite singing family. Of a class of thirty, almost everyone said “The Jackson Five.” My penchant for literalness kept me from speaking up for the Partridge Family.
After all, the singing group known for pop harmonies and happy-feel beats was a fiction, a TV group invented for the media. But they were my favorite.
Maybe it was just that rhythm thing. I couldn’t keep up to the Jackson Five’s beat.
Now Thriller is 25, and I’m 25 years older. Still a little sheltered. Still can’t do the steps. But in the larger music world those tunes that I found so radical seem innocent and benign.
I can goof along to “Billy Jean.” I can laugh as my kids discover funk.
“Hey mom! Listen to this new song!” They said last weekend, dancing along to Rick James and the Commodores and Peaches and Herb, all on a mix CD they’d gotten from their dad.
It’s far more innocuous than what they might find on the FM dial.
When Michael Jackson re-releases Thriller, as a 25 year special remix this coming February, I just might have to buy it — for the first time.
In fact, when Michael Jackson sang those words 25 years ago, I blushed the blush of the truly innocent. I couldn’t sing along. Speaking such words aloud was verboten in my mother’s household.
That was then.
Driving from Ronan to Mission the other night, I flipped on NPR for some aural culture. The announcer said Michael Jackson’s album Thriller was 25 years old.
My first response was, “Gee, does that mean I’m old, too?”
When Thriller first hit the charts (it’s still the second best selling album of all time), I was a freshman in college. My dance teacher liked the tracks, for trying to teach us jazz steps and movements.
Being the cloistered white girl I was, let’s just say the rhythm escaped me. But I listened to the words.
Always a geek, I loved Shakespeare and London and Emerson for the crafting of their words. They expressed ideas with clarity like thinnest ice. And here, blasted through speakers in a public gym, were songs “off the street,” to my sheltered ears.
Songs about a man whose not-girlfriend turns up with a baby she says is his. Songs like Paul McCartney’s duet with Jackson, “The Doggone Girl is Mine,” which reached into the hidden places of America with the notion that segregation was, indeed, dead.
It wasn’t many years before that I stood with a group of students in an emergency assembly when our school was threatened by a White Power gang. Never mind that I was white. I didn’t know to make that distinction.
Now Jackson was singing with pop idol McCartney, dickering politely over a single girl. It was a testament to the progress of the civil rights movement that these two singers, from different colored worlds, shared a hit song. It was as if they were announcing to the larger world, “Hey! This is America! We’ve grown up!” It was as if that racial disparity of the decade before had been, not just set aside, but obliterated.
(All this insight because I couldn’t learn some dance steps, so I had to go and psychoanalyze a song.)
The music I grew up listening to was colorblind as well. Bill Withers lamented “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone,” while the Carpenters sat on top of the world and Johnny Cash fell into a burning ring of fire. There weren’t as many distinctions between style, color, or format on the radio those days. After all, there was AM, and that was about it.
But Michael Jackson was always part of “soul music.”
In fourth grade, my music teacher asked the class to name their favorite singing family. Of a class of thirty, almost everyone said “The Jackson Five.” My penchant for literalness kept me from speaking up for the Partridge Family.
After all, the singing group known for pop harmonies and happy-feel beats was a fiction, a TV group invented for the media. But they were my favorite.
Maybe it was just that rhythm thing. I couldn’t keep up to the Jackson Five’s beat.
Now Thriller is 25, and I’m 25 years older. Still a little sheltered. Still can’t do the steps. But in the larger music world those tunes that I found so radical seem innocent and benign.
I can goof along to “Billy Jean.” I can laugh as my kids discover funk.
“Hey mom! Listen to this new song!” They said last weekend, dancing along to Rick James and the Commodores and Peaches and Herb, all on a mix CD they’d gotten from their dad.
It’s far more innocuous than what they might find on the FM dial.
When Michael Jackson re-releases Thriller, as a 25 year special remix this coming February, I just might have to buy it — for the first time.
Growth in Arlee worries some residents
The face of Arlee is changing.
It seems, every day, another business opens or closes. Locals struggle to make ends meet, yet are fiercely loyal to their community and neighbors.
Arlee elicits strong responses from its residents. It’s described as a place where one can express oneself, where casualness is king, where ambition isn’t a driving force. For many, it’s the only place they want to be.
“I think the Arlee Valley is somewhat enchanted,” said Debra Starratt, who moved here with her husband Chris from Missoula six years ago.
Chris is a carpenter, while Deb raises their children, volunteers and tends garden. It’s a simple life, but one they prefer. Still, it’s a lifestyle in danger in Arlee, which Deb describes as “the magic number of miles away from Missoula — thirty miles, thirty minutes.”
That close-but-far-enough distance has kept Arlee insulated in the past, but with the reworking of Highway 93 and the economic boom being weathered by Missoula, many people are looking at Arlee with new eyes.
Houses are taking the place of horses. Open land, once ranched, is being developed. According to a recent Internet search, bare land in the Arlee valley is ranging from $98,000 for four acres to $65,000 for a single acre.
“Some people are selling — of course they are — how could they not?” asks Starratt. True to Arlee’s supportive community, no one blames his neighbor.
“I have two of my kids who would like to buy land here but can’t afford it,” said Deb Espinoza, who works at Arlee’s Heart View center. “Starting out, you can’t do it,” she said. “You have to work for a long time to afford land here.”
“The community of Arlee needs to recognize that and set aside some open space, and assure there’s affordable housing,” said a community member. But who exactly has the power to do so?
“It would be nice if we could guide that growth,” said Donna Mollica, head of the Arlee Community Development Corp, “so that it grows with some feel for the sense of place.” But even in an advisory capacity, the CDC cannot dictate what landowners do.
Without some sort of overall design, Mollica said, the valley could end up facing problems with patchwork development similar to the Bitterroot.
Long live-and-let-live, the town of Arlee is not incorporated, so there is no governing board to fall back on when growth looms. The community relies on county zoning policies, which may or may not be adequate. And, many tracts of land are tribally owned.
Rumors of a new tribal business and housing development are bandied about. A number of locals say the 40 acres adjacent to the new community center will be turned over to condos, offices, and town homes — but Rob McDonald, tribal spokesman, can’t confirm that. So where do they come from, these tales of growth?
There’s the potential for Schall’s Flats. Just outside of town, the 5,000-acre parcel is selling for $21 million, Linda Zimorino said. She said the property, which she saw listed on the Internet, is slated for houses, and the 5,000 acres will be broken up into twenty-acre lots.
How many houses, how many new comers, will that bring to impact Arlee and mold its future?
Local carpenter Eric Ebinger lives a subsistence style life nearby. With his son Rio, he gardens, hunts, and cuts firewood.
“I haven’t been doing anything except processing food,” he says of his late summer days. The two hunt, fish and keep chickens for eggs and meat.
“We do our best to live off the land,” he says of his family’s lifestyle choice. They live in a small cabin on two acres. They use a grey water system for their garden. They have an outhouse instead of indoor plumbing.
“Keep it simple. I like it that way,” Ebinger says.
So what of the houses slowly creeping in around them?
“I hate to see the Bitterrootification of Arlee,” Ebinger says. “I hate seeing the light pollution and the cookie cutter houses.”
Ebinger says he and his son have “great star watching right in our back yard. But in ten years, that’ll be gone.”
His son has a different perspective. “I like the city,” ten-year old Rio says. “I just don’t like huge buildings.”
But after contemplating, Rio continues, “I think it’ll be terrible for Arlee if it turns into a Missoula. It won’t be Arlee any more.”
Until then, the Ebingers put up vegetables. They dry meat. They freeze as much as they can.
“We’ve got so much food,” Ebinger says. Their cabin’s shelves are full of home canned goods; their freezer is packed full. Ebinger does it, he said, to be able to spend quality time with his son.
“I just don’t want to be in debt,” he said.
He’d rather use what money he makes from his carpentry jobs to show his son the world.
The new houses, to him, are a mixed bag.
“I’m a carpenter-builder. That’s my bread and butter,” he says of the construction. And, like many others, he doesn’t feel he really has a say in what happens to the land around him.
“What can you do?” about people moving in and building, he asks. “You can’t tell people no.” And if Arlee grows too expensive, Ebinger says they’ll have no choice.
“We’ll have to move further away.”
It seems, every day, another business opens or closes. Locals struggle to make ends meet, yet are fiercely loyal to their community and neighbors.
Arlee elicits strong responses from its residents. It’s described as a place where one can express oneself, where casualness is king, where ambition isn’t a driving force. For many, it’s the only place they want to be.
“I think the Arlee Valley is somewhat enchanted,” said Debra Starratt, who moved here with her husband Chris from Missoula six years ago.
Chris is a carpenter, while Deb raises their children, volunteers and tends garden. It’s a simple life, but one they prefer. Still, it’s a lifestyle in danger in Arlee, which Deb describes as “the magic number of miles away from Missoula — thirty miles, thirty minutes.”
That close-but-far-enough distance has kept Arlee insulated in the past, but with the reworking of Highway 93 and the economic boom being weathered by Missoula, many people are looking at Arlee with new eyes.
Houses are taking the place of horses. Open land, once ranched, is being developed. According to a recent Internet search, bare land in the Arlee valley is ranging from $98,000 for four acres to $65,000 for a single acre.
“Some people are selling — of course they are — how could they not?” asks Starratt. True to Arlee’s supportive community, no one blames his neighbor.
“I have two of my kids who would like to buy land here but can’t afford it,” said Deb Espinoza, who works at Arlee’s Heart View center. “Starting out, you can’t do it,” she said. “You have to work for a long time to afford land here.”
“The community of Arlee needs to recognize that and set aside some open space, and assure there’s affordable housing,” said a community member. But who exactly has the power to do so?
“It would be nice if we could guide that growth,” said Donna Mollica, head of the Arlee Community Development Corp, “so that it grows with some feel for the sense of place.” But even in an advisory capacity, the CDC cannot dictate what landowners do.
Without some sort of overall design, Mollica said, the valley could end up facing problems with patchwork development similar to the Bitterroot.
Long live-and-let-live, the town of Arlee is not incorporated, so there is no governing board to fall back on when growth looms. The community relies on county zoning policies, which may or may not be adequate. And, many tracts of land are tribally owned.
Rumors of a new tribal business and housing development are bandied about. A number of locals say the 40 acres adjacent to the new community center will be turned over to condos, offices, and town homes — but Rob McDonald, tribal spokesman, can’t confirm that. So where do they come from, these tales of growth?
There’s the potential for Schall’s Flats. Just outside of town, the 5,000-acre parcel is selling for $21 million, Linda Zimorino said. She said the property, which she saw listed on the Internet, is slated for houses, and the 5,000 acres will be broken up into twenty-acre lots.
How many houses, how many new comers, will that bring to impact Arlee and mold its future?
Local carpenter Eric Ebinger lives a subsistence style life nearby. With his son Rio, he gardens, hunts, and cuts firewood.
“I haven’t been doing anything except processing food,” he says of his late summer days. The two hunt, fish and keep chickens for eggs and meat.
“We do our best to live off the land,” he says of his family’s lifestyle choice. They live in a small cabin on two acres. They use a grey water system for their garden. They have an outhouse instead of indoor plumbing.
“Keep it simple. I like it that way,” Ebinger says.
So what of the houses slowly creeping in around them?
“I hate to see the Bitterrootification of Arlee,” Ebinger says. “I hate seeing the light pollution and the cookie cutter houses.”
Ebinger says he and his son have “great star watching right in our back yard. But in ten years, that’ll be gone.”
His son has a different perspective. “I like the city,” ten-year old Rio says. “I just don’t like huge buildings.”
But after contemplating, Rio continues, “I think it’ll be terrible for Arlee if it turns into a Missoula. It won’t be Arlee any more.”
Until then, the Ebingers put up vegetables. They dry meat. They freeze as much as they can.
“We’ve got so much food,” Ebinger says. Their cabin’s shelves are full of home canned goods; their freezer is packed full. Ebinger does it, he said, to be able to spend quality time with his son.
“I just don’t want to be in debt,” he said.
He’d rather use what money he makes from his carpentry jobs to show his son the world.
The new houses, to him, are a mixed bag.
“I’m a carpenter-builder. That’s my bread and butter,” he says of the construction. And, like many others, he doesn’t feel he really has a say in what happens to the land around him.
“What can you do?” about people moving in and building, he asks. “You can’t tell people no.” And if Arlee grows too expensive, Ebinger says they’ll have no choice.
“We’ll have to move further away.”
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