Transitions by Mike Hormek - HTML preview

Chapter 1

On April 4, 1951, six months after the Iverson No.1 oil well began drilling in northwest North Dakota, it began producing oil, creating an oilfield stretching from North Dakota to South Dakota to Montana to Canada.

Bill Nordstrom was working as a "roughneck" on the rig. He was forty years old, native to North Dakota, and married late in life. He worked mainly as a farm and ranch hand with a modest high school education. Oil prices in the 1960s took a dramatic downturn, and the Rig owners informed Bill that the rig would terminate drilling immediately. The primary dryland crop was wheat, which had prices that peaked in 1950 and dramatically decreased after that, making it difficult for farmers to afford hired help.

His wife, Pauline, was a housewife. They were married for five years with no children, and it was their first marriage. She had two sisters living together in the home place. Neither were married.

Their parents were deceased and left the farm to the girls. The two girls had leased out the farming of the crops since their parents died. The parents had leased their land for oil rights, but the drilling activity had started just now. Pauline disagreed with several things the sisters were doing, so she stepped back and kept a low profile.

Bill and Pauline had to decide what to do. "I can see if I can get work on a farm. I have experi -

ence," Bill said.

“Some of my friends said the economy in Montana is better,” Pauline replied, “and some farmers and ranchers are still hiring. Maybe we should go there and check it out.”

“Okay. Northern Montana is the closest; we can get there in a day.”

So they packed up their meager belongings, loaded their truck with a mattress and some furniture, and were on their way. It was midsummer, and it was a hot, dry one. Although grain prices were down because of the lack of rain, the yield on dryland farming was not as good as in previous years, possibly driving prices up. In anticipation of better prices, some farmers invested labor to complete repairs during slow periods. The fall crops would be coming in shortly.

Before they left, the couple researched where they might find some of the larger farmers and ranchers in northern Montana. Their first stop was a ranch owned by a single man whose mother was white, and his father, now deceased, was an Indian. The community called him the "Little Indian” as he was around five-foot-two.

They pulled up into the yard of the “Little Indian." Chickens were feeding in the yard. Bill no -

ticed the buildings needed paint and some repairs. Two men were working on a combine near a barn.

Bill approached the men. "Hello, my name is Bill. Is the owner available?"

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One man answered, “I think he went to town, but his mother is in the house.”

“Okay, thanks,” Bill replied.

Bill proceeded to the house and knocked on the door. A petite, gray-haired lady with glasses answered.

“Yes, can I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Bill,” he said, “and my wife and I are looking for work.”

"We are fully staffed, but you can speak with my son. He does the hiring," she replied.

“Is he home?”

"No. My son went to town, but he should be back soon."

“Okay, we will wait.”

Bill and Pauline sat in the truck and waited. It seemed like an eternity, but in about an hour, the

“Little Indian” showed up. They introduced themselves and stated their business.

“I am sorry, I am not hiring at this time. But there is a place around ten miles west of here, the Brookhouse Ranch. See Chris. I understand he may be hiring,” he said.

“Okay, thanks,” said Bill.

They wrote down the directions and left. They arrived at the Brookhouse Ranch later that day. It was close to supper time, so there was someone home. Bill knocked on the door. A tall, lanky man answered.

“Hello, my name is Bill, and I am here to see Chris.”

“Yes, I am Chris. Can I help you?”

“I am looking for work, and your neighbor said you may be hiring.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry, I just picked up a guy yesterday. What is your experience?”

"I was laid off from the rigs in Dakota but raised on a farm. I can drive a tractor and a combine.”

“Can you repair machinery?” Chris asked.

“I did repairs on the rigs,” Bill replied, "I was a roughneck."

“Where are you staying?”

“We just rolled in this morning, so we don’t have a place yet.”

Bill introduced Pauline.

“Money is tight right now until we bring in the crops. I might have some work for you driving a tractor, but I will have to pay you by the hour," Chris said. They agreed on a rate.

"There is an old bunkhouse back on the corner of the road leading south from the house. I will furnish it with a heater and furniture if you can make it habitable. There is no running water in the house, no toilet, only an outhouse. There is a working well outside and electricity in the house, though.”

“Let me talk to my wife,” Bill said, then asked Pauline, “What do you think?”

"It's a job. We can get by for now,” she said.

“Okay,” Bill told Chris, “we will take your offer, but we can’t pay you much for the rent.”

“That’s okay. Just pay for the electricity," Chris replied.

“Where do you shop for groceries?” Bill asked.

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“The nearest store is around thirty miles away, and I will give you directions.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Come in for supper, then I will give you cleaning supplies for the bunkhouse.”

Chris introduced them to his wife and instructed her to set two extra plates. They proceeded to the bunkhouse, unloaded their belongings, and proceeded to set up housekeeping.

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