by Robert Morrison

Now that Andy Rooneyhas passed away, his position as CBS News’“curmudgeon-at-large” leaves a great vacancy. I may audition for that role. Admirably harnessed until just weeksbefore his death, Rooney is a model of productive later years. This veteran newsman managed to tickle viewersof “Sixty Minutes” for more than30 years. I loved that clackety-clackold manual typewriter he kept on his paper-and-book strewn desk. ThoughI rarely agreed with him, his long tenure alone invites respect. And it’s atribute to our free republic that you canmake a career of getting in peoples’ faces. Gadfly, Oscar the Grouch or Socrates, this doesn’t happen in tyrannies.

I’d like to try out for the role of Curmudgeon with a gripe of myown. Too many of my friends are forever knocking the post office. Every time the cost of a First Classstamp goes up, howls of protest goup higher. Question: Is there any other country where you can put so much information in an envelope for so little?

Think of what the postal system has meant to American freedom. Go all the way back to Ben Franklin. He was a Royal Postmaster before wegained our independence. He used the mail to stoke the fires of freedom. So, masterfully, did Samuel Adams, inventor of the Committees of Correspondence.

More recently, in the 1970’s, the mass media was monochromatically liberal. Without Rush, without the Internet, how could conservatives compete? How could we even survive?

The U.S. Mail, that’s how. National Review and Human Events and countless direct mail appeals from conservative organizations used the mail to keep the flame of freedom burning.

I am forever being told to get withthe 21st Century. Lots of my young friends want to be Linked In with me.I apologize to all of them, but I don’t know how. Send me an email. Better yet, send me a letter. Or even a postcard.

I’ve been sending letters and post cards to family and friends for 40 years. I can get 400 words on a postcard. Pretty good for 29 cents.

Now, I’ll admit that my good wife has a point when she complains about surly folks behind the counter at our local post offices. It is she who mailsthe packages and buys the stamps in our family. Remember, postal workers: you are civil servants; it helps to be civil.

But I’ve never had anything but good relations with our many letter carriers over the years. In forty years of letter writing, I’ve never had one go astray. That includes weekly letters to a friend in prison and letters to brave U.S. soldiers in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. I’m still astounded at how fast the mail goes through.

There’s an eloquent tribute to the U.S. Mail inscribed on the NationalPostal Museum in Washington. It’s part of the Smithsonian.

“Bond of the scattered family”. I like that line best. I get to see our grandson often, but not as often as I’d like. So I send him weekly postcards. He’s only two and a half, but our daughter reads them to him. I wasn’t sure what impact, if any, they were having.

Today she told us he takes the subscription cards from her magazines.They’re the same size as my postcards. He “reads” them to her and endseach one with “Love, GranDad.”

I love to Skype. I love email. I love blogs. And I’m going to learn to LinkIn, or whatever. But there’s nothing quite like holding a letter that was handwritten by someone you love, a message from one heart to another.

That’s why the Epistles of Paul will never grow old. God’s loving Word was written to us by hand. And God’s Word will stand forever.

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story by Maren Schober

It is Saturday afternoon, Nov. 12th, at the Groton Public Library as local children and parents stream into the activity room. We all sit hushed to watch Linda Tomkins, who is seated in front of the room at her Kiwi Ashford spinning wheel.

Linda ask “Does anyone know what I am doing?”

A nearby child answers, “Knitting.”

“No, I am spinning. I am making yarn. When I am finished I will knit it into articles of clothing that I will wear, give away, or sell to friends. This purple vest I am wearing is made from wool I got from my sister’s Romney sheep.”

“In ancient times,” Linda continues, “before the spinning wheel was used, people used a drop spindle which is simply a stick with a weight on it. This is the first spinning wheel and you work it by hand. I am sitting at the kind of spinning wheel that was used in colonial times over two hundred years ago. I work it with my feet. As my feet go up and down it turns the wheel.”

Linda continues to explain the process of yarn making from shearing the sheep, washing, carding, and spinning the wool, to knitting from a ball of yarn. “Spinners call this process ‘Sheep to Shawl’,” Linda explains.

How did Linda get started in spinning? “It all started with a phone call from my sister, Kathy, in 1993 who asked me if I would like a rabbit. No, I said, I wouldn’t! With three children in soccer, one cat, one dog, one hamster, Campfire leader and working, I didn’t need a rabbit too. But she convinced me Angora would be lovely to spin and knit. I soon purchased a used Ashford Traditional spinning wheel.

Kathy taught me to spin, working with me for two hours just to teach me the basics. The rest was self taught, reading books and experimenting. My first yarn was as fat as my finger and I made a hat which I later threw out. I have since regretted getting rid of it because it would be a great way to show the learning curve of a beginning spinner.”

To find out more about Linda and her spinning creations you can Email Linda at spinningknitter@hotmail.com.

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story by Alexis Ann

If you’re a regular reader of the Resident, you know that I served in the Montana Army National Guard. My commander, Adjutant General John “Jim” Womack, whom with great reverence, we called, “The Old Man”, was a leader of the people. He paid attention to his family…his troops, in all ranks. The Old Man didn’t care if you wore a star or if you were a private. He cared that you were part of his Army and he wanted to know “all was well” with you and how he could help make your life better. The General knew what was going on with his 3500 troops and even with me when I was attending Officer’s Basic Training at Fort McClellan, Alabama….

I was having a rough time transitioning from grad school to officer’s training, having had no prior military experience. Just the climate change from the Big Sky Country to the humid South was effort enough for me. It wasn’t until years later that I found out why my extra duties lightened up… from latrine duty to bulletin board duty. The General made a call from Montana and spoke with the Captain, my commanding officer. He was checking on how Montana’s lieutenant was doing.

My buddy Jack Walsh, born and raised in Butte was working in the copper mines, following in his father’s footsteps but his dream was to train to become a Montana State Trooper. The Old Man got wind of this and made a call on Jack’s behalf and that call turned into Colonel Walsh and later General Womack’s Chief of Staff.

These two examples are no different than what he did for any of his soldiers…or “Tigers”, as he called us.

That big booming voice that called out to so many on the streets of Dillon, MT, was silenced on 11-11-11. The General lead his last command on Veterans Day, after suffering a severe stroke on Sunday, Nov. 6.

John “Jim” Womack was born in Ennis, MT, on September 26, 1920 to Frances and Emmett Womack. He was a 1938 graduate of Ennis High School and earned his degree from Montana State Normal College in 1947. He was awarded a Master’s Degree in Education in 1955.

Jim met Vivian Marie Love and they were married in November 1942. There were four boys born to this union. Vivian and Jim lost their two middle sons. Jon D passed away in 1970 with a brain tumor. Joe, founder of the Dillonite Daily, died in 2000 from complications of Type 1 diabetes.

Jim enlisted in the US Army in April of 1942. He was commissioned a second lieutenant in 1945 at Fort Bennington, Ga. He joined the Montana National Guard in May of 1949. He served as a company and battalion commander.

In 1969, Col. Womack was appointed to the office of the adjutant general of the Montana National Guard. He was promoted to the rank of major general and held that office until his retirement in January of 1981.

Jim had a variety of business interests in Montana including founding the Dillon Cable TV System, Carter Creek Mining Company, Pacific Mining, Minerals Engineering and many other enterprises with his long time partners and close friends Carl Davis and John Erb. Many remember him as their teacher and many others remember him as principal Womack.

His hobbies include going to garage and estate sales. He was an avid collector of books on western history. He co-founded the Western Historical Library with Steve Hamilton in Three Forks, MT, with over 14,000 volumes at present time.

The General leaves behind his wife of 69 years who he lovingly called “Little Grammie,” his sons Jim and Jack (wife Kathy), daughter-in-law Brenda Womack and adopted daughter Juanita Browne, grandchildren Jon, Dillon, Jennifer, Jeff, Carson, Kylie, Alexa and Wyatt, two great-grandchildren, along with many other nieces, nephews, cousins and many, many special family and friends.

I was honored to serve under General Womack’s command as a lieutenant in the Montana Army National Guard. I will miss HIM. SALUTE.

Memorials may be made to Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) 26 Broadway, 14th Floor, New York, New York 10004 or www.jdrf.org, Beaverhead Humane Society, Dillon Food Pantry or a memorial of the donor’s choice. A guestbook is available on-line at www.brundagefuneralhome.com

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Ingredients

1 (3.5 ounce) package cook and serve butterscotch pudding mix

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1 egg

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Directions

1. In a medium bowl, cream together the dry butterscotch pudding mix, butter, and brown sugar until smooth.

Stir in the egg. Combine the fl our, baking soda, ginger, and cinnamon; stir into the pudding mixture. Cover, and chill dough

until firm, about 1 hour.

2. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease baking sheets. On a floured board, roll dough out to about 1/8 inch

thickness, and cut into man shapes using a cookie cutter. Place cookies 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheets.

3. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes in the preheated oven, until cookies are golden at the edges. Cool on wire racks.

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