Ravalli County is more or less synonymous with the Bitterroot Valley. I’ll use Ravalli to refer to my current digs, when I become weary of typing ‘Bitterroot’ again and again, with its tiresome double t’s, r’s and o’s. The county was created in 1893 by the Montana legislature, naming it after the Italian Jesuit priest, father Antonio Ravalli, who came to the Bitterroot Valley in 1845. It could have just as easily been named DeSmet County, after father Pierre-Jean DeSmet, a Flemish, Jesuit priest who helped found and supervised the construction of St. Mary’s Mission three years before he invited father Ravalli to come out and lend a hand. Whoever is more deserving of the namesake, I’m glad Ravalli was chosen, as Ravalli is more musical than DeSmet, though the people around here look more like DeSmets than Ravallis. More on those guys and local history in future posts, after I finish reading this book I picked up at the Hamilton library:
You know how it is when you are in the library to use the wifi, and you feel guilty after an hour of web surfing, with all these books around you, so you check one out just so the librarian doesn’t think you were watching Youtube videos the whole time? No, you never do that? Oh well…
I started in the history section, almost picked up a “Letters of Jefferson” book, but put it back and perused the fiction, which was weighted towards those numerous-sequel-churning, super-author books that you used to see at the supermarket checkout, in the distant days of semi-literacy. Nora Roberts, Clive Cussler, stuff like that. Then I went to the ‘Montana’ section and found the book above. I’m only in chapter one but I find it charmingly archaic. It was written by James McClellan, an Indiana native who came to Montana in 1889, and was a professor of history and Vice-President of Montana State University. He is unapologetically pro-American, pro-Westward Expansion, and so far into my reading has nothing but praise for those brave pioneers who brought civilization to the savage lands west of the Mississippi. He even commits the cardinal sin of not attributing the success of the Lewis and Clarke expedition to the squaw who accompanied her purchaser/husband on the trip. “But, but, but…she did all the translating and PR! Why, without her Lewis and Clarke would be dead meat the minute they left St. Louis! Western Civilization itself would have collapsed without the help of Sacajeweya!”
Oh, calm down, Seattle reader! Charbonneau was the official translator. Lewis and Clarke told him to leave the squaw and papoose behind. The stubborn and passionate Frenchman won out, though, and happily brought his new family along for the adventure.
The rest of the crew had to deal with loneliness at night, or frequent doses of mercury to treat the diseases brought on by their illicit couplings with the natives.
Or at least that’s how old McClellan tells it. Maybe he’s wrong though, and Saint Saca is truly worthy of all the adulation and elementary-school re-naming across the country. In any case, I doubt you’ll find his book at Montana State today. It’s run by a wise latina who likely has her pronouns engraved onto her mahogany-desk nameplate. And Bozeman is woke city.
Speaking of woke, I was at another pot-luck lunch at Big Joe’s Saturday church, when a lady came up to me and we started talking about the book she authored. I told her about my children’s books and she said, “Oh, I know just what to do to get your books into the Bitterroot Library system!”
-Really?
-Yes! I know the woman who is in charge of selection and circulation, and she’s great. Now, what was her name? Oh, it escapes me, but I know how you can contact her. David, down at the library, is good friends with her, and can put you in contact.
-David? At the Hamilton library?
-Yes. David McGee.
Ha! My old pal from summer, Manbun McGee is going to be my ticket to literary success! I said, “You mean the guy with the manbun?”
-The what?
-The bun on top of his head. He wears his hair in a little bun.
-Ha ha! Yeah, I guess he does. He’s a bit of an interesting guy.
I knew I was in a very conservative zone at the Sons of Israel Chapel so I said, “He’s kind of a lefty I think.”
-Oh, yeah. Definitely.
-But that’s not unusual at the library, is it?
-Oh no. They’re all very liberal!
-And woke!
We had a laugh at that. At first I thought, “Well, I’ll just go up to my Yuval-Harari-smitten friend and see if I can get an in here in the Southwest Montana library system. But then I thought, wait a minute. I’ll show him one of my books. He’ll think it’s great. Then he’ll turn to the back cover where my url is and he’ll see my webpage which links to this blog, and he’ll never forgive me for writing Manbun McGee! This isn’t going to work. Getting my books into the library here without the blessing of Manbun might be harder than Lewis and Clarke getting three miles northwest of Mandan Flats TeePee & Awning without the help of Sacajeweya!
I should say I am in error in portraying the author McClellan as less than laudatory in his writing on Sacajeweya. He is effusive in his praise. He quotes Olin D. Wheeler, who wrote, "...she proved time and again the inspiration, the genius of the occasion."
Later McClellan writes, "...she interpreted when her husband could not and at critical points gave suggestions and advice which the chivalrous captains weighed at their true value." And, "Lewis and Clark were not afraid frankly to acknowledge their debt to her and to speak most highly of her in referring to their parting at the Mandan town in 1806."