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Another Perspective
All in the Family
Living in a small town has its charms — but anonymity isn’t one of them.
Living in a small mountain town in the Rockies has its charms, but as with small towns anywhere, anonymity isn’t one of them. There is a price to be paid for the scenery and outdoor recreation, and the slower pace and near absence of crime, traffic and noise. Living in a town of three thousand people is akin to living in a large family that’s scattered around and inhabiting their own domiciles, but still visible daily. It has its pros and cons. I’ve lived in Salmon, Idaho, for two and a half years, and seemed to go from knowing hardly anyone to knowing many people very quickly. That’s how it happens. People just get used to having you around.
I see these folks at the grocery store, the post office, and the public library. I see my doctor at the bank, my dentist at the hardware store, and my barber gassing up his Subaru outside of a convenience store on a frigid morning. A Saturday evening out in a local restaurant means that I’ll know half the people in a crowded dining room. Sometimes I’ll see certain friends and neighbors in multiple places on the same day, as if we’re shadowing each other in a Hollywood espionage thriller. Strangely, if I’ve chatted up somebody at the post office, we can completely ignore each other an hour later in the grocery store. That’s because there is only so much time allotted for visiting in busy lives, and a long daily tally of people to visit with. And then there is the long Main St. parade of wavers and honkers. Salmon is a town (like the rest of the country) experiencing the economic difficulties of high unemployment and a few empty storefronts, yet there sure are a lot of people driving around. Forget about Kit Carson and Buffalo Bill Cody: Henry Ford actually won the West.
Not only is Salmon small, but it’s remote (the isolated large family metaphor again). It’s 140 miles south of Missoula, Montana, with a few small towns scattered between. We have a weekly newspaper (the Recorder-Herald, more later), but our available daily is the Post-Register, published in Idaho Falls, which is 160 miles south. Imagine if people in Trenton, New Jersey, awaited the Washington Post to be trucked-in daily over mountain passes in howling blizzards. Even in the age of cable and the Internet, when the paper misses a day we’re reminded how far removed we are.
As previously noted, all this municipal intimacy isn’t all sweetness and light. I have a friend who goes to great pains to avoid bumping into his ex-wife, and is mostly unsuccessful despite the fact that she also seeks the same. This is a common problem here with folks who have multigenerational roots. My friend not only wants to not see his ex, but her brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, etc. It seems to me there’s a lot of folks who go “way back” with other folks around here, and would be hard pressed to admit those other folks even exist, yet they see them at the post office everyday.
I sometimes get the feeling that I’m living in the movie Back to the Future. In some respects it’ll always be 1955 in Salmon, Idaho. For instance, it’s a standing joke that the majority of members of the city council (and who are elderly) don’t use e-mail, and are proudly defiant in their technophobia. This is equally quaint and annoying to the civically-minded newcomers who attend city council meetings with progressive ideas in mind. It definitely disconnects the civic dialogue. In Salmon we have Republicans and Democrats by about a two to one ratio. But the actual political atmosphere consists of non-cerebral reactionary conservatives (OK, rednecks), and the newcomer block of over-educated, idealistic progressives (OK, smug-liberals-who-hate-Sarah Palin).
As in many small Western towns, the population is graying. The kids graduate from high school and promptly leave for college or job opportunities elsewhere, as employment opportunities here are limited. Senior citizens stick around long enough to populate a large nursing home and eventually the local obituary pages. Since kids today don’t bother to read newspapers, the Salmon Recorder-Herald (without a website and competing with the city council for local Luddite honors) is seeing its readership sink on its own obit pages.
Salmon does have alternate high tech media in LemhiWeb.com. It’s a citizen journalism site that credibly covers local stories; mostly the machinations of municipal government, high school sports, cultural events, and public lands policy updates from the U.S. Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management. Yet the kids ignore it and the old folks read the paper. Lemhi Web’s demographic are those newcomer Boomers, civically and entrepreneurially-minded and in different degrees retired from a former life. The website has had only 23,935 hits since its inception in 2008, but it’s obviously the future model for local information distribution.
Lately it’s the Christmas season, of course, and Salmon is in a holiday mood. And it’s looking that way as we’ve had two six-inch snowfalls in the last week. The Post-Register missed one day. The mountains show that solid white, forbidding aspect that tells us that we’re in it together for another long winter. At the community Christmas parade and tree lighting ceremony the other night I exchanged holiday greetings and pleasantries with everybody I knew.
I guess I haven’t lived here long enough yet to have it otherwise. Merry Christmas.
About the Author
Bill Croke, formerly of Cody, Wyoming, is a writer in Salmon, Idaho.
Letter to the Editor View all comments (43) | Leave a comment
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Kitty| 12.10.10 @ 6:26AM
I'm suffering pangs of nostalgia.
Alan Brooks| 12.10.10 @ 11:54PM
" and the newcomer block of over-educated, idealistic progressives (OK, smug-liberals-who-hate-Sarah Palin)."
They don't hate her, they just don't LOVE her.
Palin is not Holy Mother Mary.
Alan Brooks| 12.11.10 @ 3:13AM
And BTW, they say they like the way she looks-- THAT is not hating. For example, prison inmates may not like Justin Bieber's music, but they sure like his photograph on the CD.
They pass it around just before 'lights out'.
Rich Fisher| 12.12.10 @ 7:52PM
Yes, and she's not the "Devil in Prada", either.
Ret. Marine| 12.10.10 @ 6:42AM
I can relate to this article, it seems since I moved away from the crazies, ( see liberal disease commonly known as a mental disorder) and the big City communist of the left coast, Oree-gone and I am a newcomer to this Community I have already had a hugh financial fight with the City Council, ( I won rounds, one, two and three) with the very real threat of a civil lawsuit in my favor, I have suddenly become well know ( much to my displeasure because I came here to live in peace and be left alone in retirement) as the one who refused to roll over and whimper at their high orders to be compliant and their way of doing things "their way". their words not mine.
I am at a loss of words while here, I can't seem to get a contractor at the door for a quote much less the work and upkeep required of a 145 year old home. It just confuses me to no end that there is no work out there yet I can't even get anyone to pay attention much less pay them to do a days worth of honest work. Such as it is in a small town, ( our County has around 1200 people) everyone knows or are related to each other and of course they know who I am but I'm not so sure they understand what the word RUDE means, as they don't understand or dispense common courtesy, don't even bother to introduce themselves. Maybe I have a very long bugger hanging out of the face and I'm the only one who is not seeing it, or maybe I'm ( along with the 150% increase over a three year period of property taxes) not welcomed to this tight knit community. But, hey ask me if I shive a git? because I came in peace, so if they want war, I have 32-1/2 of experience to give in return. Their choice. They have already suffered a wound, next time they might not be so lucky. I still wish them a merry Christmas, so there, take that.
Margie| 12.10.10 @ 3:25PM
Dear Sir,
I would consider it an honor to have you as my neighbor.
God bless you.
Kind regards,
Margie
Occam's Tool| 12.10.10 @ 10:25PM
Mr. marine:
You are welcome in Northern rural Minnesota.
Deborah | 12.11.10 @ 1:58PM
Ret Marine, you bring back memories of my little hometown in Texas. Wish we had more like you
mike| 12.22.10 @ 6:31AM
SIR, I TOO HAVE PURCHASED PROPERTY IN SALMON. EVERY TIME I MAKE A TRIP FROM A STATE SOUTH WEST OF SALMON, I KNOW WHY I NEED TO LIVE THERE. THERE IS A SAYING THAT " WHY DO PEOPLE MOVE TO THE COUNTRY BECAUSE THEY LIKE THE SLOW PACE AND PEACE AND QUITE, THEN TRY TO CHANGE IT? I FELL IN LOVE WITH THE TOWN THE FIRST TIME I WAS THERE. EVERYONE I HAVE MET AND TALKED TO WERE VERY FRIENDLY. AS FOR THE POLITICAL ASPECTS I HAVE NO IDEA. WE WERE TO RETIRE IN 2008, BUT BECAUSE OF A SUDDEN ILLNESS, AND SUBSEQUENT DEATH OF MY WIFE PLANS HAVE CHANGED. ONLY TO BE A TEMPORARY OFFSET. SO PLEASE DON'T THROW ROCKS AT A WHITE GMC TRUCK WITH CALIFORNIA PLATES. I DIDN'T VOTE FOR JERRY BROWN, NOT THIS TIME OR THE OTHER TWO TIMES BEFORE. IT'S BECAUSE OF THE LEFT COAST I NEED TO FIND A NEW HOME! MAY YOUR CHRISTMAS BE WHITE, YOUR FAMILY BE BLESSED AND NOT FORGET THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS...MERRY CHRISTMAS
beebop| 12.10.10 @ 6:56AM
Idaho?
What gives? Isn't Ben Stein's occasional column about Sand Point enough?
Just sayin' ...
There are several other candidates for small town cuteness insofar as the lower 48 (or was it 58?). Can someone please write about one of them, please?
Kitty| 12.10.10 @ 9:18AM
I grew up in an Upstate NY village with a population, last I checked, of 545. The small town experience is fairly universal, whether it's in NY or Idaho or Wyoming.
JohnK| 12.10.10 @ 9:45AM
Beebop,
Idaho rules! One of the few remaining conservative bastions of individuality. Our small towns are our pride.
loulou| 12.10.10 @ 10:51AM
If only Idaho could get rid of those neo-Nazis. Why do Idahoans tolerate them in their midst?
Daniel| 12.10.10 @ 10:58AM
How do you know that Idaho has "neo-Nazis"? Have you ever seen one? In an entire state of about a million people, there may be a few, but so what? There are a lot more Jew-haters in New York and Florida.
Stilton| 12.11.10 @ 6:43AM
Sure. Weldon, North Carolina, population 1374 as of the most recent census. about 1/3 white folks, 2/3 black folks and (most) everyone quite neighborly. Weldon's pretty flat so people walk quite a bit down Washington Avenue, the main drag. The *white* churches are clustered together within a two block area and the *black* churches, on the other side of the railroad tracks are similarly clustered. There's an easy openness between the races and if you don't actually know the person you're waiting in line with, you certainly share a mutual friend. Thirty years ago a local fellow of diminished mental capacity robbed one of the two local banks. As he made his get-away he walked through the back of the bank and into a room where a bunch of local businessmen and assorted loafers (my father being one of the latter) were telling stories whilst eating pastry and drinking coffee. The *bank robber* was known by several gentleman in the group, and the local bank branch manager said "John, why don't you just leave the money and gun here and go on home or you're likely to get into trouble." That's the kind of place Weldon is. If you're headed south on I95, after you've crossed into North Carolina keep your eyes open for the junction of I95 and Highway 158. When you exit the Interstate head East and less than 1/2 mile on your left you'll find Ralph's Barbecue which is a fine old style Piedmont pork barbecue restaurant. Prices are good and the fare is excellent.
Appleby| 12.10.10 @ 7:06AM
Mama and Daddy both grew up in small towns with large families, and I went to a small Bible College in a very small town in the South (until I escaped to graduate from a large private university in California). I lived in a Mob neighbourhood outside New York City where everybody knew everybody. I grew up as a relationship [Mama] and [Daddys] Oldest Girl, and in some quarters that is still who I am. At Bible College if I skipped class, odds were good that everybody knew I was golfing, or had gone to Gatlinburg, or hitched a ride to Johnson City to the movies.
I live in a very large city now where nobody knows anybody outside his own family or ethnic group, and it has its advantages. But it also has some really big disadvantages: in the last apartmnt complex where I lived, a woman lay dead for the weekend in her apartment before the smell caused somebody to call the cops; and when the cops swooped down to wind up a gun-running sting, Perps were being walked out of totally clueless buildings.
Life is a cabaret, I guess. I like the city cabarets better.
Denver Todd| 12.10.10 @ 8:46AM
A dead body will smell after only a weekend?
Appleby| 12.11.10 @ 7:38AM
If the place it is lying is hot enough, I guess.
Mick Lee| 12.10.10 @ 8:25AM
After considering what was the drawback in living in a small town, my grandfather replied that, not only do the other townspeople remember what you ever done, they know what you are doing now--and what you're thinking.
Pecos Pete| 12.10.10 @ 8:32AM
Memories! I grew up in west Texas in a town with a population of about 2,000. I couldn't do anything without somebody calling my mother to tattle on me. My best friends were cousins and any outsiders as friends were, um, discouraged by my family.
My last remaining aunt, at 102, still sends me the obits from our sometimes weekly newspaper. Except for farming families where the eldest son inherited, all youngsters quickly moved to the "big city" wherever it might be. As for me, I left at 16 and never looked back.
Now, 60 years later, I live so remotely that I have to drive 20 miles for gasoline and my nearest neighbor is over the mountain and up the creek. If something needs fixing, I am the maintenance man as nobody will drive up the mountain.
The silence is golden!
donserge| 12.10.10 @ 8:41AM
What the author does not dwell on is the fact that the vast majority of these "small town Edens" are located in climates that have 6-8 months of winter. I lived in northern Maine where it was possible to walk 50 miles in just about any direction and never cross a paved road. Summers were great but the 20-30 below zero stretches in the winter became unbearable and I moved to warmer climes and to where I could get most of what I needed within 20 miles.
When we think about it, most of us do not like what we have to endure to acquire the conveniences we want (or believe we 'need').
Anonymous| 12.10.10 @ 9:03AM
As a technician for a large service company in the Rockies, I can attest to customers who live literally in the middle of nowhere having just as strong of a spirit of entitltement as someone living in a big city.
Daniel| 12.10.10 @ 10:25AM
True story: When my car had a flat tire on the Pennsylvania turnpike, during a particularly windy and brutal rainstorm, I changed the tire myself with cars whizzing by my head (sometimes only inches away). Not one person stopped to help. A few months later, on a trip to the Big Hole Valley in western Montana, I pulled over to show my kids a beaver dam. Four cars stopped to ask if we were OK.
I'll take that kind of neighborliness and kindness any day of the week.
oliver| 12.10.10 @ 2:01PM
Montana is great for that. I always tell my two daughters they need to know how to change a flat tire, but in Montana they'll rarely have to. My true story: the last flat tire I had was in the parking lot of a small shopping area with hardly anyone around. The only man who came out of a store got into his car next to ours and drove away without a word. I told my daughters to check the license plate and see if it was from out of state. It was. No Montanan would leave a woman alone with two kids to change her own flat.
Sandra| 12.11.10 @ 10:04AM
BUT... if you took one of the back twisty-turny roads, you would have had at three three trucks or cars stop, as well as the random hiker or biker.
When our daughter was visiting some friends way off the PA turnpike and blew a tire, six (6) different people stopped to help her out.
You take the "main road" the assumption really is "someone else" paid by the State, will come along to help.
You are on the "back road" that most locals take, you are a "neighbor or friend not met" not a stranger.
Give me the small town over the suburbs and urban megalopolis any day!
Bob K.| 12.11.10 @ 10:49AM
On Interstate 80 in PA people often stop to help others. My brother, coming home from Indiana had his motorcycle breakdown. A couple of guys in a pickup truck going his way stopped, put the bike in the back of the truck and went 30 miles out of their way to drop him off at home. They refused payment and the offer of a meal but did gracefully accept one of the apple pies my mother had just baked, thanked us, and went on their way.
The PA Turnpike, largely because of it's age, defines the word "limited" in Limited Access. It is very narrow, winding in many places with very few places giving enough room to pull off and change a tire. In a word, it is dangerous to attempt it there. It is best to hobble along slowly until you reach one of the many emergency phones at a mile marker and make a call for assistance. Often a Trooper will come by and park behind you with lights flashing as a safety precaution for oncoming traffic.
Ned| 12.10.10 @ 11:00AM
I love Ron White's comedy routine about his nickname, "Tater Salad":
"I grew up four doors down (from the arresting deputy) in a town of 400. We've met."
Paul | 12.10.10 @ 11:41AM
I live in a small lake-side town (Port Rowan on Lake Erie in Ontario, Canada) of 780 citizens. It was my dream to retire to a small town and a rural setting. The harbour situation is a bonus blessing. People are very friendly here, and most often caring and kind. My dream has been fulfilled! (Yet -- God be my guide! -- I from time to time yearn to be back in the city and the urban community, where people, for the most part, are also friendly and caring and kind.)
SugartownSuper| 12.10.10 @ 1:08PM
I had the pleasure of stumbling across Salmon, ID some years ago whilst on a cross-country drive with my then-16 year old daughter [I was showing her the spaces in between] - a beautiful town, in a beautiful spot, full of really wonderful folks. The memory that I carry with me though, is of the picture hanging by the cash register in the C-store where I gassed up: a local 10-year old girl...with her 44 handgun...and the HUGE mountain lion that she had just shot with same. Now THAT's a small town in the country! I look forward to my return trip to Salmon. Maybe I'll stay this time...
Pelligrino| 12.10.10 @ 1:27PM
I think that Mr. Bill Croke will probably really enjoy his time in Idaho.
I presently live in a place just big enough to still have some trappings of smallness but simultaneously too large for any closeness. No cold, frigid feel of say an inner Chicago, but no warmth either -- unless you actively seek it.
Here one can be out and about for several days, actively doing things and not see anyone you know. Unless you specifically go to that specialty shop or that small mom and pop cafe.
Young people do not seem to mind this too much. Middle agers with kids in the K-12, those who live really hectically (more than necessary in my opinion) cannot be bothered.
Seniors do not like this. Not at all. Most want the relationships. It is not just what gives their lives spice, it is what still energizes them, what gives their lives meaning.
I have to believe that in times of trouble it is important, a true advantage, to have neighbors who know you. You need them and they need you.
That’s a good thing.
Just a hunch but a real one: In several years of living in Salmon, Idaho, Mr. Croke will have gained more and deeper friendships than what he would know living in a city of 95,000 or more.
And these friendships will be the real treasures of his life.
Note: Your friend who dodges his ex (while she tries the same) and her family? That will subside. It just takes time. If he was a good fellow, those wounds and barriers will heal. True, he may never be close again with her. But some relatives, yes.
I think our author will be truly glad for the move to Salmon. Looking forward to the Christmas update from Salmon in 2012, okay?
(The AS editors will be clipping and chopping away at your article; you’ll have so many good stories to tell.)
Bo| 12.10.10 @ 2:27PM
In a small town, you know everybody whether you want to or not. In the city, you pick who you know.
Occam's Tool| 12.10.10 @ 10:30PM
Dear Bo,
I'm not so sure about that. I grew up in Chicago's northern suburbs, trained in psychiatry in Los Angeles, but have practiced mostly in small towns, with some 54K-90K towns thrown in. (My current stomping ground has 14,000 people.)
I find it's a lot easier to meet people in the smaller places, and a lot easier to have a group of friends in a small town. Large cities create paranoia and isolation. I have never been so lonely as I was living in LA.
jgo| 12.10.10 @ 3:31PM
Salmon sounds only slightly over-crowded. I've been up that way and it might be a good place to set up a software product development firm. Of course, the market for tire-chains, and vehicle maintenance and towing services should be good, too.
In the extremely over-crowded cities, the anonymous government thugs intrude into your personal private activities nearly constantly.
Pecos Pete, I moved a few hundreds of miles to university in part to get away from the parents who always seemed to know the parents/grand-parents of every new acquaintance... and found that my boss's wife, a boss at the U, a later boss in state gov't, the founder of the U, and founders of the little towns just to the east were all either distant cousins or acquaintances of the parents through various connections. It's almost like Palin and Coulter and Limbaugh and Obama being cousins.
"no man ought to live so near another as to hear his neighbor's dog bark." --- congressman Nathaniel Macon (quoted in David Hackett Fischer 1989, 1991 _Albion's Seed_ pg760; citing John Hill Wheeler 1964 _Historical Sketches of North Carolina_ pg438)
Sam Vaughn| 12.10.10 @ 3:50PM
Thank you for reminding me of my home town. Norman Rockwell has been vilified for not representing real life, those who do misunderstand that Rockwell took slices of time and froze them in a painting. My childhood winters were spent hauling a sled up the mountainside near our home and sledding between the apple tree through an orchard. The air was crisp, the snow barely covered a hard crust and we flew. Many bruises, abrasions and the occasional chipped tooth. Nobody came along and demanded we wore helmets or turn in our Flexible Flyers. When we came home injured we were met with band-aids, hot cocoa and steaming fresh apple pie. In retrospect Dad made us proud of our "wounds" and made a big deal about it telling stories of his childhood wounds.
There were moments in time, if they could have been captured, Norman Rockwell would have immediately appreciated. They were moments of pure joy in being alive. The modern left would have us believe that those moments are a sham, a lie, you should be guilty others don't have it as good.
I miss those days of being surrounded by the warm glow of neighbors I knew. Even cranky old Mr. Walsh who threw acorns at us to get off his lawn (I found out much later in life he was a warm-hearted man who lost much when his wife died)
So thanks again for this I miss my long ago small town.
Sam Vaughn| 12.10.10 @ 3:50PM
Thank you for reminding me of my home town. Norman Rockwell has been vilified for not representing real life, those who do misunderstand that Rockwell took slices of time and froze them in a painting. My childhood winters were spent hauling a sled up the mountainside near our home and sledding between the apple tree through an orchard. The air was crisp, the snow barely covered a hard crust and we flew. Many bruises, abrasions and the occasional chipped tooth. Nobody came along and demanded we wore helmets or turn in our Flexible Flyers. When we came home injured we were met with band-aids, hot cocoa and steaming fresh apple pie. In retrospect Dad made us proud of our "wounds" and made a big deal about it telling stories of his childhood wounds.
There were moments in time, if they could have been captured, Norman Rockwell would have immediately appreciated. They were moments of pure joy in being alive. The modern left would have us believe that those moments are a sham, a lie, you should be guilty others don't have it as good.
I miss those days of being surrounded by the warm glow of neighbors I knew. Even cranky old Mr. Walsh who threw acorns at us to get off his lawn (I found out much later in life he was a warm-hearted man who lost much when his wife died)
So thanks again for this I miss my long ago small town.
Longplay| 12.11.10 @ 9:11AM
On the other hand, in the metropolis, one is normally alone in the crowd with nearly zero chance of meeting anyone one knows. Our community is our co-workers, most of whom live in physical communities far from the office. When we drive home at night, we're essentially alone.
Occam's Tool| 12.11.10 @ 11:19PM
Inded. In my current small town, the waiters all know me, and know when I leave my books accidentally behind and hold them for me. I love it here.
On the other hand| 12.12.10 @ 4:11PM
My wife was driving to some small town. Right outside the town, the highway went up a bit in elevation, and then went down, in a straight line. Behind the bushes (probably recently planted) on the way down, just when it went level, a local policeman sat, waiting to ticket.
Yes, it is possible to get a ticket for going 6 miles over the speed limit. Just like when one goes down a hill the natural tendency is not to hit the brakes, and then go back to the speed limit as the highway levels out.
Way to go.
John Navratil| 12.13.10 @ 10:33AM
Gadzooks! Six miles over! Think of the risk she presented to that policeman. He might have been STARTLED!
REB| 12.14.10 @ 10:53PM
Ya a ticket for 6 mile over seems bad but in a big city she'd probably had her tires shot out then ran off the road followed by a good tazering and a punch in the mouth then a long prison sentence for endangering the officer.......
Ya I love being out here in the pucker brush.....though I think I did hear a car on the road the other day,time to move on.....
10-year newcomer | 12.24.10 @ 2:07PM
Thanks for the entertaining, and pretty darn accurate, portrayal of life in Salmon, ID. Despite the fact that we may not all agree on wolves, the environment, city & national politics, etc, the lovely part about Salmon (and most small towns) is that if you really are in trouble, people are there for you, no matter their differences. When the fire whisle blows, and it's not noon, our thoughts turn to whomever is in trouble, no matter what. Cheers and Merry Christmas!
John| 12.29.10 @ 4:08PM
I live thirty miles north of Salmon buried deep in the Bitterroot Mountain Range, "off-the-grid" but powered up and surrounded on all four sides by the Salmon-Challis National Forest.
I must admit that the author has spoken the truth about Salmon, which is why I only go into town a couple times a year. There's just too darn many people down there.
Oh, I must toss in a bit regarding that earlier comment by an individual who mumbled on about all the "Neo-Nazi's" who reside in Idaho.
Help me out here - where are they?
The popular narrative is that they are all skulking about up in the Panhandle, around Cour D'Alene and north up to Ben Stein's lovely but horribly overpopulated and commercialized Sandpoint. I went for a look-see a summer back with my youngest son, fishing poles in hand.
We looked and looked and looked and couldn't find any. Granted, we aren't professionals at spotting these elusive creatures like say Morris Dees and the rest of his S.P.L.C. comrades, but you would think that a bunch of skinheads with swastikas tattooed all over wouldn't be hard to spot, particularly since the media would have us believe that these fellows compromise the majority of the population up in that country.
Well, we fit right in to the area because, God forbid, we are caucasians and had Idaho license plates on the trusty Dodge Diesel. Adding a bit more elan' to our rural camo was the fact that we were both wearing pretty well broken in Wrangler Jeans with a couple of barbed wire tears in them, and the top of our noggins were graced by "Moore Shootin' Supplies" green colored baseball caps to boot. Mr. Moore's place is down in Mackay, about 100 miles southeast from Salmon, and 100 miles is right around the corner in these parts. Helluva gun store for such a small town. Picked up a nice Browning .375 H&H there a few years back...
Anyway, in between some excellent fishing for 10 or so days, we kept our eyes peeled for the elusive and supposedly fearsome Neo-Nazi. No darn luck what-so-ever. All we saw were people either working and/or fishing. We even went to Hayden, Idaho, a supposed "hotspot" for them critters, and all we saw were nice folks working and moms outside playing in their yards with their children. Strangely, it was kind of like Salmon but with more people. Darn near all of those people would wave and smile at you for no apparent reason at all! Even up at Priest Lake it was the same, and man was the fishing GOOD!
I admit that the hunting was tough because dang near everyone up there is, well, white. With that fact comes a strange handicap of sorts. If a fella hasn't shaved his head and then had some nut do a big old ink-stained swastika on him, well, these white people all look the same more or less, kind of like good old Bible-believing Christian me and the kid. The whole scene reminded me of "Leave it to Beaver", back when Americans were actually nice to each other.
We stopped at a Denny's for breakfast one morning figuring we might luck out because Denny's used to be Sambo's. For a second we thought we hit the jackpot, spotting a totally bald head and the fellow was kind of slumped over. We took our seats and kept a close eye on him, glancing up regularly over the top our copies of the local paper. He was sitting with a really old woman and we figured she was probably the wife of the Grand Dragon or something until they stood up to leave. She got up first and slid his walker over to him, and then the two octogenarians made their way to the cash register.
Foiled again!
Here's the problem folks - If these so-called Nazis have taken to looking the way decent white people do, they could be hiding in plain sight and you would simply never know it. Making matters far worse is that they're all smiling and waving at you kind of like in "A Wonderful Life" during the wonderful parts. All of them!
They could be Nazi's, but they all seemed pretty happy for Nazi's. Are Nazi's happy or sad?
We gave up on trying to spot one, figuring that we really didn't care anyway. Fishing was far more important. Besides, both of us knew that there are more Neo-Nazis in Cook County, Illinois than all of Idaho. No doubt about it, and in New York City as well. And we just didn't care. If you are worried about them, don't move here because you just can't spot them. One might end up being your neighbor and you would never know. "Be afraid, be very afraid."
Nope, what we really cared about was going to Post Falls to the Cabela's store before we drove back to Salmon. Going into Cabela's was almost a quasi-religious experience, and what incredible gun and fishing departments! a fellow could go bankrupt in that place. Now that my friends, was happy hunting!