Beverly Heckford

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Beverly Heckford I heard about God when I was a child, but mostly from overhearing men curse. There was no church in Two Dot, Montana where I grew up. There had been. My paternal sister, Peggy, whose oldest son is my age, accidently burned it down branding gophers. It also burned the parsonage where her maternal grandparents lived. A few times I went to religious teaching held in the school basement. I wasn’t very old so I don’t remember much about it. Mrs. Munce whose husband worked at the substation by the Milwaukee Railroad tracks seemed to be the organizer. When I was about eleven, a kind visiting Episcopalian Minister, Mr. Davidson, came to the school. I remember being there only once and do not remember anything about it otherwise. My husband’s parents had attended the Presbyterian Church in Lewistown, Montana but one summer day as the people were gathered on the steps chatting before departing, a woman announced so that all could hear, “You have a lot of nerve coming here and NEVER putting any money in the plate!” They never returned. The church was a beautiful, huge castle like building made of stone. I remember it as the largest church I had ever seen .Whatever size, it was massive. It had to be heated in the basement in warm months to keep it from being a cave’s dampness and temperature. John’s dad’s business was to bring truck loads of coal from the coal mines to sell to the area’s businesses. He donated all of the coal that was used year around in that church. I bet it was more money than the confrontational woman put in the collection plate! Her biggest contribution was certainly destructive. John’s only connection to religion, other than the talk one cannot help but hear sometimes, was when he went to the Catholic church a few times with his girl friend, Betty Vogle. When my husband and I wanted to be married, fifty years ago in 2008, we contacted the church behind my workplace, a Methodist Church. Curious about some of the things the minister said, we started to read the Bible together some nights. We have never found a place called a church that fit exactly into what we read. However, within them, we found individuals who did. Most people are taught what to believe. It is quite interesting and educational to read the book from which they pick out their choice of bits and pieces.
Mar 01, 2008 · posted to the surname Heckford
Beverly Heckford Just after Montana became a state my father’s family made their home at the foot of 11,209 foot high Crazy Peak, the most topographically prominent peak in the state of Montana. As a child beside the mountain meadows that had been my Grandparents, Joseph and Josephine (Getchell) Hopkins’ ranch, I played in the polished rock beds of icy waters that flowed from the huge glacier that covered most of the mountain and could walk to its snow based feet on summer’s hottest days. The last time I heard people ask my father if it was melting away as they marveled at the great flows of water coming from it year around was in 1960.He told them it looked the same as it did when he was a small boy around 1892. To help people understand where I lived I would direct them when traveling west on interstate 90 from Billings, Montana and before the town of Big Timber my home was at the foot of the great white glacier covered mountain that can be seen in the distance even after summer’s hottest days. I can no longer use that landmark…I went to Montana two years ago in early fall…there was not even snow on its top…it was bare!
Mar 01, 2008 · posted to the surname Hopkins