We all learn, in life, that everything eventually has an ending. So true, and thus was the case terminating the Slater family living in Montana. My mother's father, Grandpa Fairclough, had died (29 June 1959) in Salt Lake City. It was a traumatic time and Grandma Fairclough required lots of comforting support.
I think that Dad was getting weary of all the long sales-related trips (mostly in bad weather) and Mother was also sick of being stranded in the lone prairie (our closest neighbors--the Cowan Family, lived five miles away), left to worry about Dad and her three kids (LuAnn, Frances, & I) basically devoid of much help..
Frances and I suffered the most in realizing that our Montana days were swiftly coming to an end. Frances had fallen in love with her high school beau, Gary Beals, and she, also, knew that Velvet, her horse, would be a problem in the event of a big move. The thought of leaving my beloved Montana was totally unthinkable to me--and right out of the blue. I was only thirteen and accustomed to the vast freedom and everyday hunting and exploring that was a total delight to me and my beagle hound, Ivy. I think that LuAnn, for the most part, welcomed this move as she excelled the best in places where there were large libraries and numerous bookstores. LuAnn was a scholar and quite content with this genius-related attribute.
We held a huge auction--selling everything that we could before leaving the region. People from everywhere, in the county, came to gawk and buy-- and it was sad to see so many memories carried away by friends, neighbors, and total strangers. I don't think that big of a crowd had ever assembled on this remote Montana site before.
After the sale, there were still many items left that we had intended to keep. Knowing that we could only handle a certain amount, on the initial return to Salt Lake left us in a quandary. Our parents then decided which items would be taken at once, and which possessions would be retrieved at a later date.
With permission from the landlord, Carl DeVries, who owned and worked a ranch near Roberts, Montana (plus dry-land farming--mostly oats, barley, and wheat), Dad stored our left-over hoard within a small nook in the basement located next to the furnace and coal depository room. After totally fitting everything in, Dad skillfully sealed the narrow alcove with sheeting and trim.
In mid-August, of the same year (1959) Dad and I returned to retrieve our belongings. Dad knocked on the door of our old home (on Pryor Star Route) and explained to the new tenants (an older couple) the purpose of our intrusion. The man stated, matter of factly, that we must be mistaken as there was absolutely nothing "left behind" in the basement. He went on to add that we were welcome to look but that he thought we would be disappointed. Boy, was he ever surprised when Dad stated dismantling our "hiding place"! (This sure was a clever idea that Dad had dreamed up before we left Montana--the first go-around!) Everything was still there, safe-and-sound; totally undisturbed.
I remember these dates, exclusively, as that evening an event occurred that cemented this excursion inside my brain forever.
Before departing, from Salt Lake, Dad had arranged for us to stay overnight at one us his cousin's abode when we got to Montana. Bud Gstohl, (Aunt Ruth Hicks Gstohl's son) lived in Fromberg. Fromberg was only 6.3 miles SW of Edgar with Edgar being about 16 miles due west of the Pryor Star Route dwelling. Bud had a wife, Flossie, and three kids or so. So--after Dad and I arrived at Bud's (with all our stuff), we settled in as we were both quite tired. But Dad wasn't too tired to refrain from going to the Fromberg Bar (with Bud) to swill a few beers for "old times" sake. I stayed behind, with Flossie and the smaller kids and Flossie helped to show me where my bed would be for the night.
My bed turned out to be a single person metal military-style framed bed that appeared to possibly be military surplus. After a couple of hours, at 11:37 PM exactly, (August 17th, 1959) my bed started to shake and drift across the room--with me in it! Flossie got excited and asked what on earth was happening. Myself, having lived through several such occurrences (in the Pacific NW) immediately realized the cause and calmly replied: "I think that we are having an earthquake." Flossie totally panicked and screamed out loudly--- "EARTHQUAKE!!" I hollered back: " Get under a table or stand in the safety of the framed doorway"--which she chose the latter. The shaking didn't last too long (plus a few aftershocks) and we survived. There didn't seem to be any apparent damage to the house.
Dad and Bud soon returned and excitedly recounted the events that they experienced at the bar. Dad said that the lights started swaying, as everything began to shake. Dad yelled: "EARTHQUAKE" and all the bar patrons (and staff) piled out the door. (We learned, after returning to Salt Lake, that this was a severe quake affecting the Hebgen Lake Dam area of Montana: moving a huge mountain; creating a new lake; ripping up local highways; and completely burying a few hundred campers (in the West Yellowstone area) forever.)

The following morning, after breakfast, Dad and I set out for our return drive to Utah. That was the last I would ever see of Bud and Flossie again. They both are now resting in peace in a Livingston, Montana cemetery.


So--back to Salt Lake City was the plan.......................................................................
this time we stayed with Grandma Fairclough (in the big house--with the little penthouse--that my Grandpa had built by himself). He had been a master carpenter. We three kids were quickly enrolled in local schools. Dad had an eye for a new start, eventually, within the warmer confines of Phoenix, Arizona, and his talk of future Arizona plans was all that anyone heard at the time. Soon Dad left, by himself, to pave the way.
We were supposed to follow when the school year climaxed but fate served us differently. Mother left, to join Dad, shortly after Thanksgiving, and we kids remained with Grandma. I hated my school (Central Junior HS) and thought that they were grading me unfairly. Frances & LuAnn were ambivalent but missed Mom & Dad a lot. At Christmas time, while our parents were back in Salt Lake from Phoenix, we convinced them to allow us to accompany them back to Phoenix (mid-term) during the Holiday break. We were so happy to all being a family again---now in the sunny & hot aridity of Arizona.