Robertson Ranch on the Smith River

Below are pictures of Great Grandfather O.A. Robertson's ranch on the Smith.  According to my Dad O.D. Robertson and Byrd Robertson found this spot when they were hunting.  They were not of age, so they had their father file a homestead on the place.  In O.A. Robertson's will, he left all the household goods, clothing, jewelry and livestock to his 2nd wife Jennie.  She received a life estate on the Smith River Ranch, but it reverted to his sons when she died.

The Ranch is not part of a state park but a historical marker tells visitors that it is the Robertson Homestead.

Guy-Speak

After 37 years of marriage, I am finally getting a handle on my husband’s Guy-Speak.  Here are some examples

Me:  Did you like dinner?

Him:  It was alright.

Translation:  It was not my favorite dinner, probably because it was healthy and had no meat.  I am not  complaining because I don’t want to cook.

Him:  I am doing a fun fix-it project.

Translation:  I have found a project that involves an engine. It is challenging, probably expensive, my friends can help with it, and when it is done I will have something I like to drive around.

Me:  I am so mad about what Josephine Doe said about Warblesnorts!

Him: Silence....

Translation:   I am not interested in this topic.  Josephine Doe can say anything she wants about Warblesnorts, and I am good with it.

Him:  I am going to mow the lawn.

Translation:  Would you help me mow the lawn by moving the hoses and fences around the trees, and doing the easy part with the other mower?

Him:  That four-wheeler ride was a blast!.

Translation:  That four-wheeler ride was challenging and, more important, dangerous.  I got to see cool old mines, try to bust through snow drifts, and spend time with my friends.

A person in a jeep asks us the following while we are four-wheeling:  Did you just come up that road?  How was it?

Him:  It was a little rough.

Translation:  The road has the same incline as the Empire State Building and is packed with boulders the size of a large dog.  No one in their right mind would drive on this road if they didn’t have to.

 It takes a while to get the hang of Guy-Speak, but I am proof that it can be done.

Leaving Pompey's Pillar

After my Dad's brother Robert Theodore died and my Dad and his sister Win nearly died,  Maude and Dunc Robertson decide to give up their dairy farm at Pompey's Pillar.  Dad always told me, that the water was bad in Pompey's Pillar, and they thought that it was the cause of the sick children.

The first child to become seriously ill was  Robert Theodore "Teddy." He died on November 17, 1913. The Great Falls Tribune reported:

Robertson Baby Dead

On Monday morning at 10:30, Robert Theodore, the fourteen-months-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Oscar D. Robertson of Pompey's Pillar, died of acute inflammation of the bowels.  The little child has been a sufferer for a long time.  The remains were taken to Great Falls the first of the week and internment was made in the family burial plot.  

The members of the family and Miss Mittie Brodock, Mrs. Robertson's sister went to Great Falls to see the remains of the little fellow put in its final resting place.

Robert Theodore Robertson

Bill for Teddy's Headstone

My Aunt Winifred and my father became desperately ill with the same symptoms Teddy had and nearly died.  Dad said his hair at birth was red, but it all fell out during this illness.  When his hair grew back in, it was dark brown.  The illness of both children had to have occurred in 1917 or after since my Dad's birth was March 9, 1916, and he said he could talk enough to say, "Milk, Momma!" when he was recovering.

After losing a baby and nearly losing two others, Grandpa and Grandma packed up. They auctioned off their farm and headed to West Fork to take up flax farming.  The town is now called Westby, located in the northeast corner state.

An old red journal of Grandpa's indicates some business with the railroad, whether the car number applies to supplies coming early in the Pompey's Pillar venture or moving, I don't know. A red journal indicates the the family made the move to West Fork by rail car. Possibly, Dunc and John went ahead to build a house and make things ready for the rest of the family. Journal entry, "My car is 41350."  Uncle John accompanied Grandpa.  Journal entry,  "Left Wolf Point at 5 oclock Nov 15, 1917 for Great Falls John and Dunc. Laid Over in Glasgow the 17    went from Glasgow to haver at 4 oclock   are at Coberg in the Milk River Valley."

Journal entry, "Pompey's Pillar Mont Apr 15 1917    a regular Blizzard is Raging today"

Later journal entry, "Bound for Scobey.  Left Pompey's Pillar with my carload of Household goods 5 horses and wagon on April 17th at 3.30 pm 1917

April 18 left Billings at 1 oclock on Gt Northern"

Journal entry, "Rate from Pompey's Pillar to Billings on ....car, Billings 12 to Plentywood 32, Plentywood to Scobey 12.  Robinson at Lead office of Gt Northern in Billings gave me the rate  Take no other"

Journal entry, "April 19 kept me in Billings from 7 oclock on the 17 until 3 oclock the 18th thence to Gt Falls  Laid over 6 oclock on the 19th until 4:30 P.M. the 19th  Just arrived in Havre 4.30 A.M. of 20th        arrive at Glasgow 8.30 P.M. Laid over untill 12:30 P.M.  Then Left for Bainville  arrived at 8.30 am 21 Apr     Left Bainville 1.30 P.M. Apr 21 bound for Plenty Wood     Apr 21 6 P.M. arrived at Plenty wood.  Left Plenty wood Sunday 22 at 3 pm   Bound for Scobey    Arrived at Scobey Apr 22 9.30 P M at night  Apr 23 at Scobey   snowing like blazes for two days 23rd and 24      Apr 26 John"+



The flax venture was a bust.  The family lost every penny they had.  My Grandmother delivered twins, a boy and a girl in Fort Benton, where her sister Mabel lived, on Oct 10, 1917.

Maude holding Geneva, Gene, Sid in the background and Winifred

In the middle of all this upheaval, O, Dunc , was drafted to serve in WWI Nov 4 1918, eleven days before his 46th birthday.  He did not see combat but served in the Washington shipyards.

So the next time I think I'm having a rough day or a rough year or a rough 5 years, it might be time to ruminate on these events in my Grandparents' and parents' lives and put things in perspective.

Learning More About Pompey's Pillar

View from the Pompey's Pillar Farm, taken by the rich relatives from Chicago

The years in Pompey’s Pillar must have loomed large in my grandparents’ life.  They saved more paperwork from this time than from any other time in their life combined.  There are receipts for operation and maintenance fees, character references, various correspondence with the bureau of reclamation , tax notices, deeds, maps, stock certificates,  and water rights, to name a few.

Fees

Character Reference

Farming during the first year: 1909

Before the Pompey’s Pillar venture, O. Duncan Robertson and Maude Brodock Robertson must have saved up to provide themselves with a healthy stake to get started.  No greenhorn, Grandpa did not calculate to rely solely on farming the alkaline western soil. He had a dairy farm in mind.  Their dairy stock was of the finest.  Grandpa kept excellent records of his improvements and his stocks’ pedigrees and milk production.  Mr. Berg, whoever he may be, and Warrent bred their cow to Grandpa's registerd Holstein bull.

Certificate of Registry for bull

Grandpa had names for his cows.  It appears that many were named after friends of family:  Nettie, Mittie, Beauty, Rose, Edith, Alberta, and May.  This is more evidence of our changing culture. If anyone named a cow after me, I would assume the person was trying to pick a fight.

I would have never dreamed that the Huntley Project, Ballantine, Pompey's Pillar area created a telephone company.  But here is the stock certificate that proves it.  Evidently, Grandpa had stock in the company and had the contract to string some of the lines.

To me it looks like the Pompey’s Pillar neighbors were a tight knit group,  Several papers refer to a Yeoman’s Association which Maude, Dunc and several neighbors joined.   There is even a certificate that looks remarkably like a health insurance policy.  In this valuable paper, my Grandmother lists the causes of death from siblings to grandparents.

Dairy Licene for the Robertson's Yellowstone stock farm.

Bill for stringing telephone wire on the Yellowstone Stock Farm Letterhead

Building Huntley Project

I’ m inclined to believe Wikipedia when it states that much of Huntley Project was poorly designed and cheaply built.  It wasn’t long before repairs and replacements were needed. Looking at some of the receipts, the maintenance fees seem to occur often and fees seem exorbitant for this time period.  Call me naive, but $172.90 for irrigation maintenance fees for a farm where the entire mortgage was a $1000.00 seems outrageous.   Like the rest of the west, the soil tended to be alkali and crops didn’t grow as well as the farmers would have liked. Interestingly, Wikipedia states that in 1913 some of land became waterlogged. 

 Looking through these documents made me realize at little more about the character of those I descended from.  They were very literate, paid their debts, and were good business people.  They valued quality and knew how to plan to achieve their goals.  Grandma and Grandpa, you were A-1.

My Eleven Rules of Fashion

• Blue jeans go with any color.

• Fur went out after the ice age. Why would you even WANT to wear fur when you could buy a machine washable, water resistant, warm ski jacket at a fraction of the cost? 

• Ski jackets go with any outfit from the formal to the casual. 

• If it’s uncomfortable, it is not fashionable.

• High heels have never been and will never be in style. Ever.

• If the primary focus of skin tight apparel is jiggling fat, the wearer is not fashionable.  The wearer may be disgusting and comical, but not fashionable. Trust me on this.

• If I like the color, fit, and print, it is in fashion.

• Keen sandals and lace ups, and Vasque boots are the most  trendy footwear on earth.

• Anyone paying thousands, or even hundreds of dollars for clothes, is out of her/his cotton-picking mind.  Donate to a good cause or put the money into retirement instead. Anyone worth knowing does not care about the brand name of someone’s clothes and accessories.

• The latest fashion among the teenage set is FUNNY when the over thirty set wears
  it.

• I don’t care what anyone else is wearing this year, but I encourage everyone, as a public duty, to wear something.

What the Truly Fashionable are Wearing This Year

Study Your Back Trail

My grandfather had words of advice to avoid getting lost:  Study your back trail.  As a Montana cowboy in the 1880’s and 1890’s, maybe Grandpa knew a thing or two about what it was to be lost. 

Grandpa maintained that often people became lost because they failed to turn around occasionally and see what the landscape would look like on the return journey.  When the travelers headed back, nothing would look familiar because they had never stopped to see how things looked traveling the opposite direction. Even though I stick closely to trails, I stop now and then to study my back trail when I hike.  You never know when you might be forced off a trail by someone’s bull, a bear, or other circumstances.  Off trail, you really need to know what the country looks like facing the other direction.

Studying your back trail is a good idea in life too.  Every now and then it makes sense to look back and evaluate what you have come through, how you handled it, and what you would do differently.  The 10^th step of Alcoholics Anonymous provides for studying your back trail every day by taking a daily personal inventory and owning mistakes.

While studying your back trail is important, I have come to realize that this, like anything else, can be overdone.  If you spend all your time facing backwards and memorizing the most minute details of the country you have already passed through, you are bound to trip over the rocks and roots ahead of you.  When hiking, you stop only once in a while to study your back trail.  It’s not efficient, and can be dangerous, to focus most of your attention backwards, giving minimal heed to your forward progression.

I have spent too much time studying my back trail.  I plan to change that.  I still want to evaluate  my actions daily and correct behaviors I need to correct. Still, no matter how much I measure my conduct and hope to improve, I am human.  I make mistakes.  No amount of bemoaning the past can change my mistakes or the mistakes others made that affect me. My only hope is to rely on the saving merits of my Savior. If I want His help and forgiveness, I have to let go of both my mistakes and others’ mistakes and move on. This is the healthiest and best way to live a life.

I will continue to study my back trail, but I plan to spend most of my efforts in charting my movement forward. I don’t like to mess up, and I am going to try to avoid this. But part of my development includes dealing with my mistakes.  Beating myself up when I make errors doesn’t stop me from making more errors, it only makes me depressed, anxious, and afraid.  Stop now and then to study your back trail. Concentrate mostly on your front trail.  Both statements are good advice.

The Years at Pompey's Pillar

As any of my family knows, Pompey's Pillar is a large rock close to the Yellowstone River that was large enough in the landscape for travelers to use it as a marker.  Many early explorers and travelers carved their names in the rock.  It was named for Pompey, a black man who made up part of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.  William Clark is the most famous grafitti artist on the monument.

My Dad was born at Pompey's Pillar, Montana, the town.  This town  now consists of a few trailers, a couple of houses, a few old buildings and a Post Office.  But when Dad's parents, O.D. Robertson and Maude Brodock Robertson  moved there in the early 1900's, it was an up and coming place. A riverboat made runs from Billings to Pompey's Pillar and back. There were businesses and a bank.

John, Les and Winifred Robertson in front of the Pompey's Pillar homestead

Huntley Irrigation Project, completed in 1907, encouraged settlers to homestead this area.  The Crow Indians ceded reservation lands for settlement.  O.D. owed Indians fees on his homestead, which was close to the Pompey's Pillar Monument.  His dairy and stock farm was traversed by fly creek and the railroad.  Every morning a train bound for Billings would stop and O.D. would load milk onto it.  

I don't know if O.D. and Maude set their sights on a homstead in Pompey's Pillar when they were married January 20, 1904.  But by 1906 they were making plans to homestead there. When they arrived, they had two children, John and Leslie.  Robert Theodore (Teddy), Winifred and Sidney were all born at the Pompey's Pillar Homestead.  

1906 Certificate showing O.D. Robertson  was eligible to file for a homestead.

When Maude and Dunc lived in the area, Pompey's Pillar had a Community Club - the card makes me think it was like a Chamber of Commerce

Uncle John's Report Card

Mr and Mrs Davis.  Mrs. Davis taught school in Pompey's Pillar

The Family Brands

When it came to remembering facts and details, my Dad was a star.  He could tell the date, month, and year of about anything of at least minor importance that happened.  Once Dad reviewed the family brands with me.

Turns out, Dad remembered the details of the family brands with stunning accuracy too.  He told me my grandfather had a brand that was not good for branding horses.  For horses, the brand had to be put on the jaw, not a good place to brand a horse.  So my grandmother registered a brand in her name, the Lazy BK .  This brand was acceptable for horses because it could be used on the hip and not the jaw.

The following documents I stumbled across show my Dad remembered the facts about the family brands with his usual precision.  One of the documents below shows that Maude Robertson in 1904 registered the R6 brand, but for horses it had to be used on the jaw.

The next document is a Department of Livestock certificate to move livestock from one location to another.  Requiring livestock inspection to move stock still holds today within the state.  The horses being moved had the Lazy BK brand.  Dad, you were a champ when it came to details!

The R6 registered in 1904

The Parable of the Baked Beans

Back L to R O.A. Robertson, Clarence Barnces
Front: Jack Radford, Robin Byrd.

Jack Radford

Robin Byrd

After his arrival in Montana on July 9, 1864, my great grandfather, O. A. Robertson, formed partnerships with some other miners.  One of the partnerships he formed was the Cayuse Mining Company with partners Clarence Barnes, Jack Radford, and Robin Byrd at New York Gulch (now called York).

I’ve gathered that cooking was one of the least favorite chores in a mining camp.  O.A. and his partners decided on a rotating cooking schedule and that each person would take turns cooking for a week at a time.  There was one hard and fast rule: anyone who complained had to take over the cooking for the rest of the week. 

O.A. sat down to a dinner of baked beans after a hard day mining.  Tasting his first mouthful, he burst out, “These beans are too salty!”  Remembering the rule, he added, “But they’re all the better for it!”

His correction was not accepted and he had to cook for the remainder of the week.  I can think of several life lessons we could learn from this incident.  What are the life lessons you gain from it?

Riverboats and Questions

For quite a while this picture has perplexed all the family members.  First, we thought it must be Fort Benton.  After all, my grandma’s twins Gene and Geneva Robertson were born at the Fort Benton Hospital so we know someone in the family was there for a while.  

Next, we wondered if this picture was of the ferry that ran on the Yellowstone River from Pompey’s Pillar to Billings.  This was logical since Grandma and Grandpa had a place in Pompey’s Pillar for a while.  But the river and the hills didn’t look quite right.

Recently, after conversing with knowledgeable historians who are also stars at internet research, the mystery might be solved. 

It appears likely that this is a picture of ferries on the Yukon River.  These Ferries took prospectors up the river to Dawson City during the gold rush.  Grandpa went to Dawson City and the Yukon and tried his luck.  For us, it’s fabulous that he liked to buy pictures of the times.  Piece by piece, the family history is coming together. 

Native American Blood Could Be a Myth

On Dad's side of the family, there is an abundance of  very dark eyed and dark haired people.  We have had various rumors from distant family connections that there is Native American blood in the family.  One picture of an ancester looks very Native American. Out of curiosity I had my cousin tested only to find the Robertsons are pure Celts.

Taking another stab in the dark, we tested my female cousin's DNA Line.  The mt DNA tests the mother's, mother's, mother's....  Well, this time we ended up in France (14.56%of the population belonging to the haplotype) and Austria (12.6%), with Italy coming in third (10.6%) .  Check out Maine et Loire - Maine-Anjou (14.56%), France - Herault - Languedoc, France (14.13%).   I thought this line was German and Dutch. Curioser and Curioser.

As for French blood,  my Dad always said we have French in the family.  I have never run into it yet in any of my genealogical research. And I'm not so sure I want to be French. Not a nation I admire. Sorry.  If an ancestor was French, at least she had sense enough to get out of there at least by the 1700s.

The mystery still exists.  It remains only to check out a male with the Brodock surname.  Unforunately there are none living left in our immediate branch of the family. Even checking out a Brodock might not work out if a Brodock married a Native American woman.  The YDNA finds out the father's, father's father...  In this test, it would miss any women with Native American blood.  We would have to find a female descendent whose mother was a Brodock to find an NA woman in the mix.  Did I mention I am getting a headache? 

Anybody have any more ideas?

On Returning the House to Normal after Christmas

On the second day of the new year, I took down the Christmas tree, and found nerf bullets in its branches: three. 

On the third day of the new year, I vacuumed out the couch and found four nerf bullets in the pouch

On the fourth day of the new year, I began the wash; in which was five nerf bullets. O my gosh.

On the fifth day of the new year, I cleaned the heater fins, and found two nerf bullets deep within.

On the sixth day of the new year, the corners I did mop, and still the nerf bullets did not stop.

On the seventh day of the new year, I cleaned the ceiling fan, and there was more nerf ammo for the can.

This Christmas was fun and the grandkids were a scream, and of all these nerf bullets did they dream.

I thought they had fun with the skates and sleds and dolls, but they loved the nerf bullets most of all.

Next year, oh next year, I have thought about it lots:  I am banning nerf bullets to the shop.