My journalism journey part 10

I was told early during my years in Montana that it would be much different than the Chicago area. Oh, how right that was! I was in for culture shock. The small town of 11,000 (county and city) was truly a place where just about everybody knows your name.
First, there were just about the same amount of bars as churches. Just in the block, the Anaconda Leader was in had two bars. One was right across the street; one on the corner. Then in the next block, there was another, plus the Elks Club, which had a bar. Anacondans loved to drink.
So they thought there was nothing wrong with letting their kids drink, too. The annual graduation party included the parents buying a couple kegs of beer, plus some other liquor. It was tradition. Hey, the kids were 18; it was time they were allowed to drink.
But the year before I arrived in Anaconda, a couple of kids in Helena were killed following a similar graduation party. The police had stopped the car, told the kids to go right home, didn't issue a ticket. After the accident, in which another car also was involved and had a fatality, there was a lawsuit charging the police with neglect.
So the Anaconda police were not going to allow the traditional graduation party this year. I was sent to do a story on this. I was floored that kids were allowed booze at their party, much less provided the drinks by their parents. And then I was really surprised parents were upset when they heard they weren't going to be allowed to provide similar refreshments for the Class of 1984.
Our ad manager, Mick, was one of those parents (although he didn't have a child in this class). He couldn't understand why the police were meddling in the parents' rights to throw a party and provide the booze.
The police chief, Jim Connors, was adamant. If booze was found at the party, it would be confiscated and the providers arrested.
Well, the parents came up with a solution. They decided to have a party for the graduates at the Elks Club. No booze would be provided and the teens would be locked in for the night. Anyone coming in intoxicated would be turned away.
There would be videos to watch, casino-type games with prizes, raffles, pizzas and other food and refreshments and at the end, a breakfast buffet. This party was added for after-prom , too. It turned out to be a big success. There were fewer kids driving under the influence and fewer accidents. In the end, the parents found this was a better solution than providing the booze.
Some still gave their kids a beer or two. I went to an after-graduation open house and saw the host giving out beer to his kid and their friends. I gave the host (and I won't name names) a look, but I knew I couldn't change his mind. He felt this was his right. I just hoped the kids got home all right.
I was also chided often by our ad manager for locking my car and house all the time. "This is a small town. You don't need to worry about anything," he said.
"People steal in small towns, too," I told him. "I don't want to encourage anyone.
Well, one day, his car was stolen, along with his wallet and camera. He always left his keys in the car along with everything else, left the doors unlocked. After that, he started locking his car.
I covered a civil court case in which the man claimed he had a bad back and was suing his employer for damages. That afternoon, I went over to the cop shop to get the cops report, and the same guy was on there for getting into a bar brawl and throwing someone over the pool table.
I went back to work chuckling over that one. I asked Wally about it, should we use it in the paper. He said yes, we should use it in the court case and the police report.
So the next day, the judge brings it up during court. I don't remember if there was a mistrial in this case or the case was dismissed or what. I can't remember the man's name. I do remember he was extremely upset with me and called the newspaper to threaten me. My editor and publisher called the cops to have them keep an eye on my house for a few days. In the end, nothing happened to me.
Despite that threat, the upside of living in a small town was being able to walk to many places and having people look out for you. When I left in 1989, I had a moving sale. The police came by not to buy anything, but to say goodbye. Other people did the same.
One woman even gave me a gift certificate to the best restaurant in town, the Copper Club. I used that before I left. The place had the biggest steaks you've ever seen.