Letters from a Swan Valley homesteader

This is the second USVHS article about Henry Thomason, an early-day Upper Swan Valley settler who wrote a series of letters to his family in the Midwest documenting life as a homesteader in the early part of the 20th century. Henry's son Maurice W. Thomason homesteaded the adjoining 160-acre parcel north of Henry's land. Henry's daughter Lyda Thomason frequently stayed with her father for extended periods of time.

Henry Thomason retold a story he heard from Jalmer Wirkkala, a local trapper and seasonal Forest Service employee at the Big Prairie Ranger Station in the South Fork. Assistant supervisor of the Flathead National Forest Charles J. Hash and Ranger Henry Thol also played major roles in the story. In a letter dated April 20, 1931, Thomason wrote:

"Jalmer Wirkkala was here a number of times after coming out of the South Fork, but has gone back for the summer. As a rule, if the packer has time he gets his packs ready the evening before he starts out. They call it cargoing it. It's all put up in canvas tarps, from 80 to 100 lbs., to the cargo. Two going on one horse, and in lots of them are hams and bacon. For several mornings they missed a number of the cargos, thought perhaps tourists had stolen them. But Jalmer found a bear track on a trail so that solved the mystery. He set two snares and next morning Mr. Bear had one around his neck, and one hind foot in another one. So they decided to take him to the Station [Big Prairie]. Put two ropes around his neck, and one on hind foot. Jalmer and Hash took the two ropes ahead, and Thol the one on his foot."

When the bear suddenly turned around to face Thol, Thomason wrote:

"...the two [men] on the lead ropes gave slack, to see the fun. Thol ran with the bear right behind him. The two men on the roaps (sic) kept loosing (sic) more rope, and after the bear got a good start they were unable to stop him for a long time. He ran Thol a long way. Was so close he kept striking at him, first one foot then the other. But they finally stopped him, took him down to the station, tied him up for an hour or more then turned him loose. They found the packs where he had torn them open, eaten the meat. Everything else was all right. Shortly after that a smaller bear tried to get away with some of the packs. But they were too heavy for him to carry far, so Jalmer set his snares again, and that time he caught a woman tourist, so the gang thought he sure was a good trapper."

In a letter dated Oct. 29, 1933, Henry describes the progress on building a new log house. Apparently, his homestead cabin burned down prior to the date of this letter. He wrote:

"The last side logs are up but one still has to be grooved and fitted in, but looks as though we won't be able to get it so we can live in it this winter. Has been raining here steady for three weeks...Maurice and I went to Missoula over 3 weeks ago, for a load of things we had ordered from Montgomery Ward, doors, windows, nails etc."

"The season is now open for big game. A few days ago, as I was coming in from the mail box I got a fine big buck. Lyda and I canned 32 qts., have been using the rest fresh."

A few months later on Jan. 27, 1934, Henry gave an update on the progress on the house construction:

"Going rather slow with the house, but got roof on a short time ago, so can work inside even if weather is bad. Got the rough floor finished in the kitchen end yesterday."

During the New Deal era, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) was established across the country to combat high unemployment during the Great Depression by putting hundreds of thousands of young men to work on conservation projects from 1933-1942. Sixteen CCC camps were built in Montana including one on the Swan River State Forest near Goat Creek. The CCC camp at Goat Creek operated during the summer seasons of 1935, 1937 and 1938.

Concerned about local job displacement, some residents were not initially welcoming to the CCC enrollees. In a letter dated Sept. 8, 1935, Henry wrote:

"Everything all right out here, still dry, warm days and cool nights. Garden is good. L. [Lyda] has been doing quite a lot of canning, more to come from the garden...She now has 376 quarts in the cellar...The forest service is laying off men. All lookout men but two, called in. Guess they are depending on C.C.C. men in case of fire. Have heard that next year there will be all C.C.C. men on lookouts, two to each lookout."

In a letter dated May 30, 1938, Henry delivered sad news about the death of the husband of his sister-in-law Mary Harris who homesteaded 11 miles north near the old Condon Ranger Station. Mary and Oscar Harris were married six years earlier when she was 56 years old. Henry wrote:

"I am writing this from Mary's place, as I am staying here doing chores. Oscar Harris passed away May 24, and that p.m. the hearse came for him and took him to Missoula. Mary and a niece of Mary's from Minn., and myself went in, and made arrangements to have him taken to Grinnell, Iowa. The next day, May 25, the train left Missoula at 4 p.m. Mary and the niece going. The Dr. finally decided it was cancer...I have no idea when she will be coming back, but I expect not for another week. Hope she brings someone out to stay with her as she can't very well manage alone."

In fact, Mary did manage life alone on her homestead for many more decades. Independent-minded, she was known to cut down trees with a crosscut saw, drag them home with a team of horses, and cut and split the load for firewood. One of nine women to homestead in Swan Valley, Mary filed to homestead in 1917 at the age of 41.

Long time Swan Valley resident, Leita Anderson remembered attending Mary's 82nd birthday party in 1957. "Mary lived by herself for quite a few years after that," Leita recalled.

In the final letter from the Thomason collection dated Jan. 3, 1939, 75-year-old Henry wrote about celebrating the New Year with his nearest neighbors:

"Yesterday we had a number of our new neighbors for dinner, including Oulie and Stanley [Ricketts], 8 of us all told. Had very nice time. The Mrs. Ricketts came up early and helped me out. They are our nearest neighbors ½ mile away."

Clearly, Henry Thomason's connection to Swan Valley was deep and lasting. His letters are a tribute to all the homesteaders who toiled to eke out a living in an uncompromising land.