Missoula history

Remember when you could drive Montana roads and highways with no need to look at the speedometer? Well, that’s not entirely true. There was that thing called “reasonable and prudent,” but my interpretation of the phrase might not be your interpretation. Who was to say what it meant?

I have a final thought and recommendation to younger readers. Looking back now, I do wish I’d asked my parents and grandparents much more about their lives and the times in which they grew up.

“I hereby certify that Philip Henry, age 6, and Ila Arnold, age 4, have this day applied for permission to marry, and have paid a fee of 26 cents.” A call was placed to the “bride’s mother, Mrs. Carl Arnold, on Cooper Street, who picked up the young couple straight away.

One hundred years later, while much has changed, there is still, all across our country, a “strong personal prejudice and dissatisfaction with social and political matters.” Here’s hoping we can learn from the past. Let’s resolve to make 2026 a year of cooperation and splendid community spirit. Happy New Year!

Here’s how the Missoula Sentinel newspaper described things on December 25, 1925: “Christmas was unmarred by accident or disorder ... the ideal weather called many people out of doors. Streams were sought by fishermen, camera enthusiasts took pictures of joyous events, and friends exchanged holiday greetings throughout the day.”

Back in the 1920s, dancing to the music of a live band or orchestra was hugely popular across the country and here in western Montana. The Elks Club and the Florence Hotel in Missoula featured large ballrooms, and in the summertime, couples enjoyed the great outdoor dance pavilion at Greenough Park.

In the summer of 1924, the Sheridan brothers took a seven-piece orchestra on a statewide tour including performances in Butte, Anaconda, Helena, Bozeman, and a number of small towns near Missoula. By then, they were promoting themselves as having the “oldest organized dance orchestra in the Northwest.”

Travel with us, back in time, to the early spring of 1925, when a sordid love triangle in the small community of Plains, Montana generated headlines across the country.

Mrs. Clyde Long, age 36, had been a Plains resident for about a decade. News reports indicated she’d operated the Windsor hotel for a time, and lived down by the river. She had known the younger man, 22-year-old George Gunther, for a number of years, when he had roomed at the Windsor hotel.

The housewife would feed the fabric onto the roller and close the top. Then she would use a series of knobs on the handle to press the fabric against the electric-powered roller and rotate the cylinder.