Country Communities
In the past three weeks, Conrad has hosted benefits for three families who are in the middle of crises.
One neighbor built houses for many years, but now is confined to a wheelchair because ALS is attacking his muscles.
A high school science teacher battles colon cancer.
A 16-year-old boy was just diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.
Each victim of bad circumstance comes from varying economic status and social circles, yet all three families must be consumed by the urgent search for answers amid confusing, unorganized and sometimes conflicting data.
They are exhausted.
Yet they have to keep fighting because every moment that passes without a solution is the enemy, while buying more time is the singular goal.
Staggering bills fill in their mailboxes.
As neighbors and friends, none of us can return these families to their normal lives, but together we can help pay a bill or two.
Conrad’s economy reflects farmers’ bank accounts. When farmers in the area make money, small businesses in Conrad make money.
Lately, farmers have been struggling to find an extra dime – the weather is dry and fuel prices are high while grain prices are low.
Still, people dig deep into their pockets.
All three halls were packed with close friends, shirt-tail relatives and weakly-connected acquaintances.
At one benefit, donated tickets to a University of Montana football game, hay, a weekend getaway and an artistic iron firepit generated a lot of excitement during the live auction.
The top bidder for the football tickets donated them back to the auction so they sold twice in a packed house.
At another benefit, rocking live music and a busy bar gave bidders a head start on motivation to raise their hands and help their neighbors.
We all had chances to write our names next to silent auction items, too.
Neighbors contributed what they could – everything from framed paintings, massages and pottery to other art and quilts.
Food is integral to any party, so goodwill donations filled cans at the beginning of buffet lines. Neighbors caught up on news with people they hadn’t seen for too long as they chowed down on bar-b-qued pork sandwiches and coleslaw, the staples for feeding a crowd, at least in north-central Montana.
At every auction, the auctioneer needs at least two bidders.
I figured my job was to encourage someone else to pay top dollar – and if I ended up winning a bid that would be fine, too.
I waved my hand often but passed on most of the treasures – except hay.
I can always use hay.
As I perused the silent auction items, I spotted my neighbor’s name on a gift certificate for a massage.
I don’t usually get massages, but I wanted this donated massage to be expensive.
I wrote my name under my neighbor’s, raising the bid while assuming she would come back around to bid again.
Then a bell rang and the organizers declared two more minutes before the silent auction closed.
My neighbor was nowhere to be found.
I get to schedule a massage soon.
While raising money is important, benefits like these remind our neighbors that we care.
Even when lives get busy, struggles become private and we hug one another far too rarely, we want to help.
The crowded rooms, the greetings yelled into bent ears over the noise of a rowdy band, the public cheers and private hugs say we got your back.
Conrad isn’t the only place where neighbors rally around their own.
In every small town in the West, people will do what they can to alleviate a little stress for those who face unfair odds.
It’s our love language to our own.