Police restraint makes a great party possible
Pub Date: 4/1/2006
By Cole Boehler
Editor and Publisher
Beverage alcohol can be an integral part of celebration and enjoying good times. I wrote a column awhile ago that detailed a number of especially memorable occasions in my life where a well hoisted drink added considerably to special festive moments.
That said, we all know, too, that an over indulgence in adult beverage can have grave consequences. No need to detail them here.
Beer and spirits certainly play a role in one of Butte's chief holidays, St. Patrick's Day. Credit is due the community and law enforcement for continuing to allow (tolerate?) a celebration fairly free of the prohibitionist tendency to outlaw fun, even if it involves the exuberant partaking of alcohol beverages.
This year's event was on a Friday and during college spring break. The weather was marvelous and encouraged revelers to attend and play.
We enjoyed a late morning parade that featured about 90 percent of the politicians running for office and many that aren't . Gov. Brian Schweitzer was the star as his popularity apparently soars state-wide and remains high in this traditional Democrat stronghold.
Bagpipers, dancers, Butte High drill troupe Purple Bees, middle-aged fat guys dressed in hula skirts with coconut bras, marching bands, rock and roll bands, jazz bands and a number of commercial entries rounded out a parade that lasted 45 minutes…in mid-March...in Butte, Montana--a miraculous thing in itself.
As usual, my spouse and I retired to the Silver Dollar Saloon for a few libations and some excellent people watching. About every 50th person passing by (and they move in a continuous stream in both directions) we know and always have a pleasant, celebratory visit.
This year my large extended family decided the long holiday weekend would be a good time to conduct some family business, but also to get a crew together to install the flooring in a 1930s vintage cabin we are re-erecting on a family-owned piece of riverfront recreation ground about 40 minutes out of Butte.
Our family–brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, grandmas, nieces and nephews and cousins galore–all keep in regular touch via an internet site developed for this purpose. We post news and stories and other doings there along with pictures, recipes, movie and book reviews, addresses and phone numbers.
So, before my clan gathered in Butte, I posted a notice on the family site that I would provide beds, couches, recliners and floor space for sleeping, bathrooms for the usual purposes–all
first-come/first serve–and would conduct a Friday feed for any who would be in town.
I also reported that the police were on the record, they weren't going to go overboard on the gung ho, but would certainly arrest all lawbreakers and that would mean spending the whole weekend in the cooler, no judge to see until Monday morning. Along with that, I noted my wife and I would be posting no bail bonds so keeping one's head and steering clear of trouble would be the wisest policy.
When I left the Butte Uptown to head home to prepare for the feed and party, literally thousands of people were freely spending money in the area's bars (and restaurants and filling stations and motels and groceries and...) and were gathered in groups by the hundred on the sidewalks and in the streets in front of every watering hole and drifting about in all the spaces in between. It's hard to estimate, but I would say there were between 5,000-and 10,000 folks Uptown by late afternoon.
I got home about four p.m., set up my, and my neighbor's, picnic tables and benches in the garage and got out all the lawn chairs. I brought the barbecue grill down from the deck and situated it near the walk-in door. I got a fire going in the wood stove. I turned on the furnace in the camp trailer and readied the beds in there.
Marilyn had earlier prepared two crock pots full of corned beef and cabbage and they were simmering on the workbench, emitting wondrous perfumes.
I plugged in a boombox, spread some picnic table cloths on the tables, filled my cooler with beer and ice and got out the ground beef and Polish sausage. My wife arrived a short time later and brought out buns, salads and dessert, condiments, relishes, disposable plates and utensils.
Then, about 6 p.m., the people began to drift in: Helena friends Bob and Chris Koch with sons Hunter and Alex in tow; nephew Adam and some buddies from Missoula; nieces Brooke and Leah, also from Missoula with more friends tagging along; my son, Scott, and nephew Jake came from Livingston with some of their pals; sister Lisa came from Polson with her daughter LaiLa.
Altogether, I suspect we fed at least 25 people. No hamburger or sausages were left over and just a dab of corned beef and cabbage remained but all were well nourished.
Some of us stayed put in the warm garage, free to spill anywhere without worrying about carpets. But most–certainly the 20-somethings–headed back Uptown for some more of the big party.
I called it a night about midnight. It wasn't long after that the designated drivers began to be phoned to come and pick up bunches of partiers in the thick of the Uptown.
I was out of bed the next morning about 6:30, made coffee and stepped out on the deck to enjoy the early morn along with the day's first caffeine and nicotine. At first I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but I realized I was indeed hearing the soft strumming of a guitar and voices coming from my garage.
When I walked in, there were still three college students on lawn chairs sitting near the wood stove, talking and noodling a bit on the guitars. One was asleep in the back seat of my wife's sedan. So far, so good.
Further inspection revealed three or four were bunked in the camper beds.
There were four sleepers dispersed in the basement and four more scattered about upstairs on floors and couches. Altogether, at least 17 people camped at our premises. We could have handled another half dozen.
About 9 a.m. I took off to set up for the work day at the cabin so I missed all the stories that got swapped back and forth over pots and pots of morning coffee as our guests slowly cleared out their heads. My wife reported the exchange had high entertainment value.
But a perusal of the morning papers indicated the big bash was about normal: 30 arrests, all misdemeanors, mostly disorderly conduct, no felonies, no broken building windows...a pretty much run-of-the-mill St. Patrick's Day in Butte.
Bars quit serving liquor at 12:30 a.m. to help assure the Uptown was cleared by 2 a.m. Two
bartenders interviewed reported no rowdiness.
Mostly it was just pure unadulterated fun (best to send the kids elsewhere after the parade concludes) along with a significant economic boost thrown in.
Marilyn and I were tickled to be able to provide hospitality to so many, especially the college crowd. We like to believe our nieces and nephews are comfortable around us and are comfortable bringing their friends along, too.
It was a veritable Mardi Gras with green beads; with corned beef and cabbage in place of red beans and rice. A lot of people let down a lot of hair at minimal social cost. And a healthy shot of money was injected into the local economy.
A large portion of the credit should go to the balanced, measured, sensible approach by Sheriff John Walsh and his officers, along with the Highway Patrol. That approach could serve as a model for other communities that aren't afraid of throwing a good party once in awhile.
Long live fun!
Source: The Montana Tavern Times, April, 2006, published monthly by Continental Communications, 125 W. Granite St., Suite 102, Butte, MT 59701.