Several years ago, we went back home for a visit to Cut Bank Montana. Cut Bank with a population of approximately
3000, is known for its unsympathetic bitter winters combined with its relentless and heartless wind. If you are fortunate enough to be in Cut Bank when the when isn’t blowing then you are blessed indeed. I use to mark on the calendar the days the wind
didn’t blow. Cut Bank was our home for 24 years before moving to Helena in 2003.
During my visit,
I started to feel right at home again. The first thing I realized, I didn’t have to fight the traffic. I went down Main Street with the greatest of ease without having to stop and wait for traffic lights. Did I mention that Cut Bank only has one stoplight?
It is always an enjoyable adventure going back home because I can go to the grocery story or local gas
station and I meet people and begin to visit as if I never left town. I really do miss that.
is made up of mostly wheat and barley farmers and four Hutterite Colonies. In its better days, it was a booming oil-field town, bustling with rough and tough oil-rig workers and merchants who smiled all the way to the bank with their profits from a community
who worked hard, played hard and spent freely.
This little town and the people have endured some tough
times and easy times. Now Cut Bank like many small towns across the United States is going through an economic crisis, which is causing many businesses to close their doors. But Cut Bank and its people are survivors.
It absolutely amazes me when a member of the community is facing a medical crisis, economical crisis, or an unforeseen tragedy, the people pull together
their resources and help those who are in need. I’ve seen this happen time and time again over the years, and I am in grateful awe of this community's generous spirit. They are generous in the tough times and in the more affluent times as well.
We know first hand about their spirit of helping those in need because our family was the recipient of Cut Bank’s generosity
and compassion during a time of great sadness when we lost our son David in a tragic car accident in 1987.
This little wind-blown spot on the map, with its majesty wheat fields stretching for miles and miles is a part of who I am today and I am very proud and honored to have been a part of this community.