John Overcast

Sugarbeet Festival Grand Marshall

The Grand Marshall for the 2^nd annual Sugarbeet Fstival is John  Overcast, whose family has been operating in the Milk River Valley for several generations.

John Overcast was born on a sugarbeet farm in Paradise Valley 80 years ago, and still lives in the house where he was born. Sugarbeets helped get his family through the depression years, when it was nearly impossible to make a living with other crops or by raising livestock.

A job at the factory put food on the table for many families at that time; indeed, raising sugarbeets was usually a family industry. Overcast recalls that his sister and he earned enough money thinning beets at an early age to buy their first bicycle.

The Overcasts raised beets for the U&I sugar company until 1952, and then for Great Western until 1965, at which time they rented out their beet ground until 1978. Beets were raised on Overcast land for 53 years. After the beet business folded, the Overcasts increased their cattle herd and operated a feedlot where they wintered and fattened cattle.

John’s wife, Cleo helped in many ways until she was stricken with M.S. in 1987 and is now in her 16^th year at the Sweet Memorial Nursing Home. They both look forward to the time they spend together there each day. John still irrigates, bales and stacks hay, and feeds a small herd of cattle.

RF

SUGARBEET MEMORIES

The Millard G. Gilbert Family

By Elsie Gilbert Nelson

Our father heard about the U and I Sugar factory in Chinook; that motivated a trip to Chinook to spend some time to study soil composition and yields per acre for raising sugarbeets. He also wanted to check the kinds of fur-bearing animals for trapping, as that was his method to provide winter livelihood for his large family.

Papa and two teen-aged sons, Charles and Andrew, came to Chinook from Charlo, Montana to do spring beet work. They earned enough to buy a new Model T Ford.

When they returned to Charlo they had pamphlets extolling Chinook and the U and I Sugar factory. My brother, Lewis, and I rode around on horseback to distribute those pamphlets to farmers in the area.

Since the Chinook area passed muster with Papa, we loaded up for the move. We used our older car, a Willys-Knight with two jump seats behind the front seat, and the new Model T; one car would not hold all of us.

Papa drove the Model T and Andrew drove the Willys-Knight. We older ones rode with Andrew. Andrew would stop and let Papa get ahead so he could speed to catch up. We called him "The Speeder" after that. We could save gas with both cars as one could turn off the motors and coast down hills.

Charles rode our saddle horse, Ranger, from Charlo. Papa kept Ranger to use on his trap-line.

We took our time on the road. Some of us slept in the cars and the others slept in a tent. The campground I remember best was Fort Benton. The nice park was enjoyable and the old fort was interesting.

When we reached Chinook there was a campground there. We set up our tent to stay in until Papa arranged for a home. We increased the population of Chinook by 13. A girl who later became a school-mate told my sister she thought we were gypsies as we filed out of two cars and we girls wore such bright-colored clothes.

Papa contracted fall beet work from John Brummer. He furnished a small house for his workers. Besides, East Chinook School was in walking distance,

When beet harvest was over we went to East Chinook School. Our teacher was Gladys E. Smith. She has always been my favorite teacher. There were 36 pupils, some in every grade. She had a son, Vernon Smith. My friends were Blanch Brandon, Alice Pridgeon and Mary Flynn. I was in 7th grade.

The next year Papa contracted spring and fall beet work for Henry Bosch. His property was closer to the Milk River and he, too, furnished a "beet house." We again attended East Chinook School and Gladys E. Smith was again our teacher,

Finally, Papa was able to rent land to raise beets for himself. Some of us were, by then, in high school. We had to rent a place in town for us kids in high school. There was no bus and we lived too far away to walk.

In buying fur, Papa found that the King place on Fort Belknap was for rent. He rented it for a long time. It was a long walk to the Agency to catch the school bus, but those living at home did it. My sister said Papa took them to school in severe weather.

Four family members graduated from Harlem High School: Lewis, Louisa, Quentin and Lilly.

The U and I Sugar factory must have been a stabilizing influence as three family members were born in Chinook: Iris, Kenneth and Gaylord. They were number 12, 13 and 14. Gaylord was called "The Caboose."

All but four of the fourteen Gilbert children have been Montana residents since maturity. They reside in Blaine, Hills Cascade and Liberty County. Gaylord recently moved to Silver Bow County.

Lilly and I attended NMC, now MSU-Northern College. Most of our nieces and nephews have graduated from Montana colleges. Now some of the great nieces and nephews are attending Montana colleges.

All but three of we Gilberts, both male and female, found our mates in the Milk River Valley and on the plains of Montana.

Of the original fourteen six are now living. Elsie Nelson, Lilly Kretchmer, Havre; Quentin Gilbert, Acworth, Georgia; Iris Hay, Hood River, Oregon; Kenneth Gilbert, Chester, Montana; Gaylord Gilbert, Butte, Montana.

Our parents, John, Andrew and Charles are interred in Kuper Memorial Cemetery, Chinook, Montana.

Sugarbeets Are Tasty Vegetables

We ate cooked sugarbeets, about fist size, pickled and sometimes with butter. With butter they rival fresh sweet corn.

We ate tops from small beets seasoned with vinegar; we preferred them to spinach.

Mother put some sugarbeets in the bowl with pickled red beets making pink beets for us, otherwise we preferred sugarbeets. They were especially good by adding sliced onion.

A U and I Sugar Valentine

A lady friend of mine sent her husband who was in WWII a unique valentine. She filled a syrup bottle with Walker’s Deluxe whiskey, then wrapped it in a small U and I Sugar sack tied with a red, white and blue ribbon and a bow. He received his Valentine and he understood her message.

Elsie Gilbert Nelson

Havre, Montana

Sugarbeet Memories

The M.G. Gilbert Family

By Elsie Gilbert Nelson

We were living in Charlo, Montana when the Utah-Idaho Company built the factory at Chinook. Many farmers began to raise sugarbeets. Papa and the two teen-age boys, Charlie and Andrew, came to Chinook to do spring beet work, hoping to earn enough money to buy a Model T Ford car.

At that time a Mr. Ziebarth brought the farmers and the beetworkers together. Papa took a contract and they were successful in earning enough to buy the Model T. After spending that much time in Chinook, Papa thought it was a progressive town, so decided to move to Chinook.

We increased the population of Chinook by 12, and later by three more. Iris was born in 1926. She was She was born in Henry Bosch’s beet house. There were some small iris plants by the house that Mama tended. She thought Iris would be a pretty name for the baby girl. She had Alberta in mind for the middle name. I had been studying the poem, Evangeline in reading class at school and I loved the character, Evangeline. After many entreaties to Mama, she named the baby Iris Evangeline.

Brother Kenneth Maynard was born in 1929 in that little L-shaped white house across the railroad track. It was just two rooms then. Papa had rented it for Lewis and me to live in to attend high school. Mama came to stay with us when we both had the measles. She wanted to be sure we kept it dark in the bedroom to protect our eyes in the daytime. The Maynard in Kenneth’s name was another of my admired adults: cowboy movie actor Ken Maynard.

In 1933, Gaylord Roland, whom Papa called “the caboose,” was born in the Hugh Keegan house. Lewis and I were boarding with the Keegans to attend high school. The house has since been torn down. It was also across the railroad track.

There were two doctors in Chinook, Dr. O’Malley and Dr. Hoon. Dr. Hoon attended Mama for the births. We sometimes had Dr. O’Malley for illnesses.

Papa contracted sugarbeet work until he could afford to rent land to farm his own. We kids, his crew, did all the beet work, spring and fall.

Charlie, Andrew and Lewis raised sugarbeets when they grew up and were raising their families, but their kids didn’t do the labor.

RF

Sugarbeet Memories

Sue Ann Bales

Reno, Nevada

As a little girl, I can remember going down to the valley where Overcasts grew sugarbeets. My brothers used to work in the fields hoeing the rows and rows of beets. It was hard work hoeing those weeds, fighting the mosquitoes and tolerating the sun. Billy and LeVeda Overcast employed many high school students, who needed a little spending money, throughout the sugarbeet years.

Walline M. Campbell

This is a little information on Lucille Nash.

Lucille Nash weighed sugarbeets in the 1950s. she was a very hard worker, kept those truck drivers in line and was well-liked by all.

My dad, Wallace Nash, worked in the fields till dark during beet harvest like everyone else. My sister, Diana, did the cooking, my brother, Bill, and I did the evening milking if Bill wasn’t at football practice. My mom, Lucille, was at the beet factory weighing the trucks as they came to unload.

In October of 1957, we moved to town. I remember walking down to the beet factory with my dog and sitting with my mother. It was interesting, watching all the things she had to do.

It is great to see the factory area being remodeled and the spirit of the Sugarbeet Festival taking place; also, it is wonderful when the Chinook all-class reunion has smoke coming out of the stack. These are great memories!

Sugarbeet Memories

By Kay Blatter

This story was told to me by Leo Moore.

My Uncle, Gottlieb Blatter, moved his family to Chinook from Ammon, Idaho in 1928. My Father, William Blatter, moved his family to Chinook in 1929 also from Ammon, Idaho.

One day, Uncle Gottlieb (we had trouble pronouncing his name, so we just called him “Uncle G”) brought his beet truck, a new International truck which he had just bought that summer, into Burgess Implement. This was the International dealer which was located where the statue of Charlie Russell stands today, just across the street to the west of the current location of the Library. Across the street to the east of Burgess Implement where the Library is now was the very large Chinook Lumber building, owned and operated by Thomas O’Hanlon. Monty Burgess was the father of Nancy Inman, and Gottlieb Blatter was the father of Tontella Maddox.

Back to the story, Uncle G brought his truck in because something didn’t sound right in the truck’s rear end. Leo Moore told him to drive it into the shop and he (Leo) would check it out. The door of the shop faced east towards the lumber company. Leo closed the shop door and jacked the back end of the truck up so the wheels could turn. Monty Burgess had just had new overhead doors installed two days previous, and they had spent over half a day getting the weights adjusted just right so that the door would open and close easily. Leo told Uncle G to get in, start the truck and put it in gear while he (Leo) would get under the truck and listen to the rear differential.

Now, you have to understand field conditions when hauling beets; it was wet and the truck left deep ruts in the field, so even though this was a rather new truck, the muffler had already been torn off. Due to the time of year, there were also frozen beets and mud stuck between the dual wheels.

Leo yelled for Uncle G to rev the engine a little faster (remember the missing muffler), then yelled again to rev a little faster again. Soon after, Leo yelled for Uncle G to stop, but Uncle G thought he said faster yet, so he floored it. The truck had been inside long enough that the mud and beets between the wheels had started to loosen. Soon, the mess started to fly out from between the dual tires, and of course proceeded to demolish the new overhead door, knocking chunks and splinters clear across the street to the lumberyard.

Needless to say, Monty Burgess wasn’t happy.

Pickled Sugarbeets

Submitted by Elsie Gilbert Nelson and Iris Evangeline Gilbert Hay

Boil about 6 fist-sized beets, then put in cold water and peel.

Cover with boiled pickling liquid:

·        1/2 cup sugar

·        2 cups water

·        2 cups apple cider vinegar

·        1 tsp. cloves

·        1 tsp. allspice

·        1 Tablespoon cinnamon

Leave set, preferably overnight.

Slices of onion may be added for those who like onions.

Mother mixed sugarbeets and red beets to make pink beets. Use enough sugar to taste if red beets are used.

Sugarbeets are also delicious when prepared and buttered like sweet corn.

The Sugarbeet Jive

By Iris Evangeline Gilbert Hay

I’m sitting on the train with thoughts a bit forlorn

Going to Chinook, Montana, the place where I was born

A Sugarbeet Festival is being planned, they say

I was born in a beet house, so I’m headed that way

They asked for sugarbeet memoirs that are set to rhyme

So I’m putting pen to paper, relating those of mine

Sugarbeet work was for years our livelihood

Not only did we hoe them, but they often were our food.

In many states our Papa planted fields of his own

His many kids provided him with a crew that was home grown

Our parents learned by hook or crook

Of a sugarbeet factory being built in Chinook

So they loaded up belongings – which was mostly kids

Then contacted beet growers and hired out his crew for bids

Our housing was provided but was crowded to the hilt

Eleven were born before me so I was 12^th under Mama’s belt

Mama used a long-handled hoe, standing up to chop with jive

And we babies crawled behind her when we reached the age of 5

As mama chopped the standard whacks all day long upon her feet

We crawled behind her thinning, leaving only the biggest beet

There were no day care centers way back in that day

Which put us under her care as we toiled to earn our pay

If we weren’t in the fields working to earn financial dough

We were back inside the beet house mixing biscuit dough

On sunny days in the scorching heat

We worked the fields in our bare feet

In all those years that we did hoe

Not one of us ever lost a toe

Though we never lost toes, our feet were filled with cuts

If they weren’t from hoe nicks, they were from stepping in the ruts

Papa came to the rescue with his tobacco juice and cud

He’d spit it on a sunflower leaf and tie it on us good

Doctors then were few, with none on hand for inspection

But with Papa’s chawed tobacco, we never had an infection

From sunup to sundown, it was whack, whack, whacks

And, Oh! What a strain on our aching backs

Sack lunches were our only break

But very seldom did we eat cake

At the end of some rows, we could stop for a drink

And twist from our necks and joints those painful kinks

On the 4^th of July we staged our own parade

As Mama, bless her, prepared a bucket of lemonade

We hade some firecrackers, although very few

That we lit and set off, popping every round or two

Then we’d resume our whack, whack, whacks

Refreshed by treats of lemon drink and the fun of fire cracks

As workers grew older, they pulled, piled and topped the row

For beets must be removed from the ground before the snow

Many youngsters missed school during the beet harvest grind

To save crops from freezing while shirking their young mind

As time marched on with beet hoeing years

That it might someday end, we had no fears

But behold, that day did come at last

Now, sugarbeet growing seems to be in the past

There was thinning, second and third hoeing plus irrigation for all

With the beet pulling, piling and topping come fall

We thank Chinook and the sugarbeet

For providing employment so our family could eat

There is a moral to this poem for everyone to learn

As to personal responsibility and wayward youth concern

If they’d let children work like we did then

There’d be fewer joining gangs or landing in the pen

For work does build character and skills

And provides the means to buy shoes for them to fill

I’d like to re-tune my metal hoe while I’m alive

And whack out a song called The Sugarbeet Jive

I’ve enjoyed relating this agriculture trade of yore

But I’ll end this poem before it becomes a bore

Yes, whack, whack, whacks and our aching backs

Are now at rest from the foregoing facts

And I’m here to tell you one and all

That our family learned early to do the sugarbeet crawl