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Copyright, 1998 by Ellen Rae Thiel. This file may be freely copied for non-profit purposes. All other rights reserved.
A family by the name of Dawson of Irish heritage lived in or near
the town of Quebec in Canada in the 1800's. Working in the woods was the common occupation. Two of the sons, as the other did, went to work logging as very young men. But as the finger of opportunity would beckon they would gradually got farther and farther from home and also each other. Tom tried many things and eventually arrived in Butte, Territory of Montana, where he got...
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Copyright, 1998 by Ellen Rae Thiel. This file may be freely copied for non-profit purposes. All other rights reserved.
A family by the name of Dawson of Irish heritage lived in or near
the town of Quebec in Canada in the 1800's. Working in the woods was the common occupation. Two of the sons, as the other did, went to work logging as very young men. But as the finger of opportunity would beckon they would gradually got farther and farther from home and also each other. Tom tried many things and eventually arrived in Butte, Territory of Montana, where he got employment in the mines. From there he went to Comet and then on
to Helena. While working in Helena, he met a sweet young girl named Mary Smith. He courted and won her, for she could not resist the handsome young man with perhaps a touch of blarney to his words.
Tom, who had always liked the great outdoors, was getting
restless working in the mines. He heard how good the Yellowstone Valley was and there was land for the taking through the Homestead Act of 1862. So one day Mary and Tom Dawson packed their belongings in their wagon, hitched up the team and started for the Yellowstone. Two days out of Helena they were traveling down the North Boulder Valley and came to a pretty green meadow close to the river where they set up camp for the night. As they were working, a herd of deer went through the Cottonwood trees
near by. They were so pretty and dainty and hardly afraid at all. The young couple stood quietly and watched until the creatures were out of sight. Mary decided to try the fishing while Tom finished the camp. It wasn't long until she was back with a nice string of fish for supper.
"Well, Mary," said Tom, "this valley and this spot look pretty good to me; the hunting and fishing are sure good. What do you think?"
Mary quickly agreed. So Tom took out his homestead in North
Boulder Valley in 1879. The Indians still came through the valley and sometimes camped in various places. There were friendly enough; their biggest problem was sticky fingers so stock and anything lying around loose must be watched.
Tom and Mary worked very hard making improvements and taking care of the livestock. One day Tom went to the mining camp of Butte.
The fifty miles or so trip was long and hard. Even with a good saddle horse it generally took more than one day. After his business was attended to he stopped in of the friendly saloons to quench his thirst and hear anything newsworthy. He struck up a conversation with some men who had recently been in the Black Hills of South Dakota. There had been gold discovered there and rich mines established. Much activity went on so the Black Hills was always very interesting to talk about.
Tom asked the men if they had ever known a John W. Dawson. Tom and his brother, over the years, had lost track of one another except Tom knew his brother had always been very interested in prospecting and following the glitter of gold.
"Well," one of the men said, "I didn't know any John W. Dawson, but I knew a Jack Dawson well. In fact, he and my good friend, Wild Bill Hickok, were very friendly and that is how I first met Jack."
Tom was delighted to at last here some word of his brother--if it was his brother. He hurried home to tell his wife what he'd heard. They sent a letter to Jack in the Black Hills telling him where they were and to come to Boulder in the Territory of Montana and visit them.
Jack Dawson received his brother's letter just as he was in the process of selling a rich gold mine he and four other men owned. He was anxious to see his brother again after so many years, but the gold mine had paid well and with money to speculate with there were still some places he felt he must see. So first he went to New Mexico and perhaps into old Mexico a ways and then began to work North through a little of California and on into Nevada and Colorado. Many places looked sort of interesting, but he really did not tarry too long. Something seemed to be pulling
him to Montana. One day in the fall of 1882, he arrived at his brother Tom's door.
The brothers were most delighted to meet after all the years and there was much catching up to do on all the events of the years. Mary sat and listened and smiled in contentment to see them together.
Tom told Jack how well satisfied he was after he had settled in the valley and he hoped Jack would find it a place to stay and put down roots. The thrill of wanderlust had long been with Jack and he wasn't sure yet if he could be content in one place. The mountains around looked most interesting though, and he thought
he would stay a while and prospect for gold or silver. It's
pretty hard to give up a life of fascination with the glitter of
gold possible around every corner.
But soon another pretty important event occurred which was what
really make up Jack's mind to stay. A family by the name of
Porter came from Virginia and located next to Tom Dawson. They
had a daughter named Alice who was the prettiest girl Jack could
remember seeing. Her dark hair, sparkling blue eyes and friendly
personality all combined to make her just the girl for him. The
handsome miner with so many spell-binding tales to tell of Wild
Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, Buffalo Bill and many others was hard
to resist. Jack was one of the first white men to arrive in the
Black Hills of Dakota. His horse hair lariat was used to help lay
the town of Lead, which now is adjacent to Deadwood. One night
while asleep in his tent, an Indian slipped close enough to shoot
an arrow into his back. Jack's loud scream roused his companions
and one of them raised his rifle and shot the redskin. Jack was
nursed back to health but carried a bad scar until his dying day.
Probably the biggest draw back was Alice's parents. While they
couldn t help but like Jack Dawson, they knew he was much older
than their daughter, and of course, with all his traveling much
wiser in the ways of the world and men and women.
So in 1885, Jack decided file on a homestead. His feet would now
be planted firmly in the valley. And in 1887, Alice Porter and
Jack Dawson were married.
Jack s training as a boy in the woods of Quebec helped him so
much now. Because of his adeptness with a saw and an axe, the
buildings on the homestead were soon up--all snug and warm
against the cold and snow in the winter and the heat in summer.
Some pens for the animals he was slowly acquiring were also put
up.
He and Alice were so busy, so happy and so much in love and time
passed swiftly. On March 17, 1889, a lovely boy was born to them
and, of course, was named John after his father. This son was to
grow up to young manhood and at the age of twenty suddenly become
ill with pneumonia. In those days before antibiotics there was
very little could be done. John died and the family was stricken
with grief. By this time, however, there were eight other
children and they all could comfort one another, though the loss
of the first born is very tragic. Alice, who was with child when
John died, gave birth in a few months to a sweet baby girl. And
then there were three more children. So Jack and Alice had a
family of thirteen children. Indeed by now their roots were deep
in the valley. Much fun and hilarity - with also a quarrel now
and then - goes on in a home with so many in it. In fact,
sometimes Alice would stop and count several more than her own
brood--extras who had come to visit a while where there was
always excitement. All were always welcome. Families are close
with so many children for each must help the other and all must
help the parents. So all feel so loved, so wanted, and so
necessary. There is no better feeling.
Pat Dawson, a brother of Jack and Tom, came from Quebec and
visited for a year or so with the two families. He had never
married but had stayed on the home place in Quebec to take care
of the old folks until they passed on. He liked the valley but
got homesick and returned from whence he came to end his days.
One October evening Alice, with her baby son and grown daughter,
Margaret, were on their way home from a Woman s Club meeting and
dropped in to see the new home of Pete and Myrtle Dawson. Pete
was Tom's son and Jack's nephew. Alice and Pete set the gasoline
lamp on the table and pumped air into it with a tire pump (a much
smaller lamp pump should have been used). Pete was badly burned
about the face and hands. It was feared for a time he would lose
his eyesight. Until his dying day he carried bad scars from it.
Margaret's hands were painfully burned and baby Edward was burned
slightly. Alice was nearer and the flames seemed to enfold her
hair and her clothes. She was so badly burned that even when Dr.
Packard arrived he could not help her and she died a most painful
death in a few hours.
This was no doubt one of the worst tragedies to ever happen in
the valley. Jack and his family were numb with grief. There just
seemed no where to turn with the mainstay of their family gone.
However, the training of the years stood by them and the older
ones, even Dora, the married daughter who had come home as often
as possible, took such good care and were so tender and loving to
the younger ones, especially the baby who was only seventeen
months old, that the family all stayed together on the homestead.
Alice, as had her sister-in-law, Mary, on the Tom Dawson
homestead, worked so hard to keep the ranch going and the family
fed and clothed. There was no such thing to these women as escape
in town at the saloon or a few days in the hills prospecting just
to get away from the daily rush of miking the cows, churning the
butter, baking the bread, weeding the garden, washing the clothes
on a scrub board and most important of all, caring for the
children. The life of pioneer s life was anything but easy. But
one thing is sure--without the help of these and all the other
good women of a pioneer s wife was anything but easy. But one
thing is sure--without the help of these and all other good women
of the valley many of the ranchers would not have stayed on to
make this valley the fine productive place it is.
1918 was the year when a devastating flu epidemic swept the whole
country. Millions of people throughout the nation died as a
result of it. The Dawson family, as many others in the valley,
did not escape the disease and for a while almost all were down
in bed at the same time. Pete Dawson sent his hired man "Powder
River Bob" to help with chores. ("Powder River Bob" was Bob Hall
who later became a noted western artist.) A neighbor girl, Ann
Murphy, came and stayed a while to help Jack with the housework.
Dr. Packard came as often as he could. He, like all the other
medical people, was busy all hours of the day and night. He ate
on the run and slept only in snatches now and then. It's a
miracle the good man didn't get down himself.
One of the Dawson boys, George, was very ill. He had contracted
double pneumonia as a result of the flu. Dr. Packard came to do
what he could. He called Jack aside to tell him how very sick
George was. He said he'd do everything possible to pull him
through but with such a high temperature and so much lung
congestion the outcome was doubtful. He knew of a good nurse who
was just getting off another case and was available and he'd get
word to her to come. Little Josephine, who was only four or five
years old, was forlorn and lonesome with everyone sick and no one
seemed to have much time at all for her. If she tried to talk
she d be hushed, if she tried to run and jump she d be stopped.
So "Jo" was unnoticed standing in the shadows listening to this
conversation. Although she didn't understand exactly what was
said, but it frightened her and she knew George, should be told
what was said about him. She tiptoed to the sick room door and
slipped in and patted George on the face until he opened his eyes
and she said, "George, you're awful sick. Your fever is 105 and
you might die!"
George's eyes were glazed with fever as he opened them. He
mumbled something and little Jo ran quickly out of the room. Of
course, George did recover but for quite a while he was very
weak, pale and listless. In time, all the family recovered and
life got back to normal again, but it had been a hard time for
everyone.
On June 12, 1922 Jack Dawson died. He had a long, interesting,
adventuresome and productive life, and he and all the other old
timers in the valley will long be remembered and stories passed
down by the younger generations. Jack's children, of course moved
on to their own homes and had their own families to raise. One
son, Pat, settled in the valley on a ranch a few miles from the
homestead. Another son, George, was the one who was to stay at
the home place and over the years gradually acquire more to go
with it, including his Uncle Tom's homestead and Tom's two son's
places and the Porter land where his mother, Alice, had lived.
George married Edna Ahl who was raised not so very far from the
valley. George and his wife had two sons they named Jack and Dave
who are on the ranch at the present time and who plan to raise
their families there. George and Edna are semi-retired and are
also still living on the ranch.
So the ranch has continuously been in the Dawson name beginning
with the original homestead of Jack Dawson and, at the present
time, in the hands of his grandsons, Jack Dawson and Dave Dawson.
SUBMITTED BY MR. AND MRS. GEORGE DAWSON |
