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Podcast No. 110: Chad Okrusch

Chad Okrusch is, I believe, the first ButteCast guest with an Elsie Award on his résumé. He earned the Butch Starin Award for his role in the Leon Phelps Incident, which occurred on the handball courts at the Butte Elks around the year 2000.
A professor at Montana Tech, Chad is also an outstanding musician. He recorded the great album Wisdom Road in 2008. That album includes great songs like Opportunity Blues, Big Hole River, The Angel Mariah and St. Patrick’s Day At the M&M.
Those songs perfectly capture the soul of the Mining City and its surroundings. Go to Apple Music or Spotify to listen to the entire album.
You can also catch Chad live Sunday at the Folk Festival. He will play at 5 p.m. on the Montana Traditions Stage, which will be just off the corner of Quartz and Wyoming streets.
Listen in to this fun conversation to hear how Chad writes songs and what inspires them. Listen to how Chad accidentally inspired Tim Montana to write the hit song Mostly Stoned.
Listen to Chad talk about a book, in which he is an editor, that will be released this fall. Listen to his plans for his long-awaited sophomore album. Listen to hear how much he loves his job at Montana Tech.
Listen to see if he can still do that Ladies Man impersonation. Spoiler alert: he can.
Today’s podcast is presented by Lone Peak Physical Therapy. If you are not living your best life, call (406) 494-7050 today and start feeling better as soon as tomorrow.
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We have to do better than this

Late in the evening on the Fourth of July, word circulated that a 20-year-old Butte woman turned herself in to police for the hit-and-run death of 23-year-old Austin Nieves the night before.
By all accounts, Austin was one of those guys who was just special. His friends all adored him, and the community is devastated by his senseless death that came just minutes after the fireworks celebration on Big Butte.
At a party with family, friends and friends of family, the immediate reaction was to feel sorry for the young woman whose life will never be the same.
While Austin’s life was ended, the driver’s life was ruined. She could be headed to prison, and she will have to live with unimaginable guilt forever.
Part of the reaction I saw at the party comes from the fact that so many of us can so easily put ourselves in the shoes of the driver in that situation. It is much easier to identify with her than the victim because we can actually see ourselves doing exactly what she did.
We don’t know if the driver was drunk or distracted — or both. So many, though, quickly jumped to that conclusion because drunk driving, as sad as it is to say, is still something that is so very common in our society.
Also, so many people on the Butte hill celebrating the fireworks that night drove home after drinking. We know it. It happens every year, and we just accept it. The police can’t catch them all. Not even close.
The truth is, the driver of that Jeep that took down Austin is also a victim. She is a victim of a society that turned something that should be totally taboo into something that we all just do sometimes.
Driving drunk is a learned behavior that we pass on from generation to generation. That is a simple and sad truth.
We have to do better than that. We must do better than that.
Sadly, the tragedy of July 3 is so reminiscent of the one that claimed the life of 14-year-old Mariah McCarthy in October of 2007.
Mariah was run down by an underage drunk driver while she walked with two friends, who were also hit, on a walking trail alongside Blacktail Lane. The girls were heading home after walking some friends halfway home following a night of watching movies.
Mariah’s father, Leo, started Mariah’s Challenge, kind of by accident, with a powerful eulogy of his daughter at her funeral.
A couple of years after that funeral, Leo gave me a photocopy of the eulogy that he wrote on a yellow legal pad. I was blown away when I saw his edits of that speech.

Leo wrote that he forgave the driver who killed his daughter the moment young Mariah closed her eyes for the final time.
Then, Leo heard from a man who pulled up on the scene and saw the driver, out of his truck, standing over the three girls. Not only did he not render aid, he lied about hitting a deer and tried to hinder the man from helping the girls.
After hearing that, Leo crossed out that line and wrote a new one in the margin. Instead, he wrote that he was looking forward to talking to that young man. Leo wanted to tell him how Mariah lived, knowing that the driver was the one who knew how she died — and how she could have possibly been saved.
The original line is one of the most amazing things I have ever read. I didn’t think it was possible to think more highly of Leo, but that line made me do just that.
Forgiveness is something we should all try to offer. Forgiveness, though, is not free. It is something that has to be earned. It is something that has to be deserved.
Forgiveness also doesn’t mean absolution. A price has to be paid for taking a life, even if it seems impossible to place a price on such a thing.
I didn’t know Austin, but I recognized him when I saw his picture. I remember seeing him cheering on his classmates at Butte Central during sporting events. I remember him wrestling for the Maroons.
The morning after his death, I talked to one of his close friends. The devastation on his face told me everything I needed to know. We lost someone we never should have lost.
It is a tragedy beyond words.
I have never met the driver, but I know people who have. I know she was a success story growing up. Her parents were both 16 when she was born, and neither graduated high school.
While the deck was stacked against the girl, she worked hard and got good grades. She earned a full-ride academic scholarship to Montana Tech, one of the best academic institutions in the world.
It is not up to me if she is granted forgiveness for her actions — and lack thereof — on July 3. But her story makes me sad, too.
I am sad that young men and women — and even some who are much older — don’t realize how easy it is to ruin their lives. They don’t realize how easily they can ruin or end the lives of others.
That is on display almost every summer night when I walk around Big Butte with my dogs before dark. Young men and women gather in the parking lot, and so many of them race in their vehicles up and down the road to the Big M from Oro Fino Gulch Road.
I couldn’t say if they are drinking alcohol or just being kids, but I am amazed that someone hasn’t been killed or seriously injured on that mountain.
It seems like it is only a matter of time. You can probably go up there tonight and see it for yourself.
Mariah’s Challenge has helped change the mindset for many people in our community and beyond. It has, without question, saved lives. Mine is one of them.
But it hasn’t changed things nearly enough in the almost 16 years since the senseless death of young Mariah.
Not helping the matter is the severe shortage of things for our young people to do. I grew up in a time when we had a minor league baseball team, a real mall, two movie theaters and a drive-in theater that was open seven nights each week in the summer.
My parents and grandparents grew up going to the Columbia Gardens.
Today, there is not much for the kids to do other than get in their cars and goof off. Butte has turned into the song “Small Town Saturday Night” by Hal Ketchum.
Everything seems to be closed down by 8 p.m.
No, that doesn’t excuse these actions. But it should help us understand them. It should also help us start to change them.
Kids need something to do around here. What that is, I don’t know. My next birthday will be my 50th, and my kids will tell you I am incredibly out of touch with the youth of today.
The truth is we also need to do something to change this deadly mindset that is passed down from generation to generation. Like with the death of Mariah, we need to make sure something good can come out of the death of young Austin.
He deserves so much better. Our kids deserve so much better.
A good start would be changing our mentality so our immediate thoughts are to identify with the victim of a tragedy before the accused.
— Bill Foley can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74. Listen to the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.
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Podcast No. 109: Skip Koprivica

Skip Koprivica was in town Saturday to honor Jack Crowley as the clubhouse at the Highland View Golf Course was officially dedicated in honor of the long-time pro.
While Crowley was a golfing hero at the Muni, Koprivica was the same at the Missoula Country Club. In January of 2014, Koprivica retired after 34 years as club pro of the terrific course.
After the ceremony, Skip sat down on the porch of the new clubhouse for this fun conversation.
Listen in as Skip talks about growing up in Butte and playing golf at the Muni. Listen as he talks about working and learning under Highland View pro John Pochervina. Skip and his wife Sue had a plaque made to honor “Porchy.” That plaque now hangs on the wall of the Muni pro shop.
Listen in as Skip talks about his brothers Gary and Keith and working at his father’s gas station on Park Street. Listen in as he talks about getting into the golf business and the many terrific people — some of them famous — that he met along the way.
Listen as Skip shares some fond memories of Jack Crowley.
Today’s podcast is brought to you by Thriftway Super Stops. Stop by today because everyone deserves a little TLC.
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Podcast No. 108: Butte Miners seniors

Last summer, the Butte Miners captured the Mining City’s first American Legion baseball state title in 69 years.
The Miners cruised through the South A District and Class A State tournaments without a loss. Then, they did the same in the Northwest A Regional tournament in Vernal, Utah.
Between the 2022 and 2023 seasons, the Miners ran their winning streak to 30 games before they dropped a handful of games with a few players missing because of the Montana East-West Shrine Game, some senior trips and some injuries.
Now, the Miners have their full team together for the stretch run. They split a doubleheader in Belgrade Tuesday night, and that one win puts the Miners in the driver’s seat to secure the No. 1 seed at the South A District Tournament in Three Forks.
Today, I me with seven of the eight seniors (and one super senior) from the Miners at 3 Legends Stadium. Listen in as we hear from the boys, pictured above, from left, Ethan “Easy” Conningham, Kenley Leary, Kevin “Donnie” Donaldson, Tyler Duffy, Rye Doherty, Anthony Knott and Zach Tierney.
Unfortunately, senior Sean Ossello could not make it. Hopefully, we can catch up with him down the road.
Listen in to hear if some of those beanballs just might not be as accidental as you thought. Listen to hear why head coach Jim LeProwse seems to be a little crabbier this year than he was last year.
Listen in to hear the origins of a couple of nicknames, some college plans, which players have struck out Tierney and which one gave up a tape-measure home run to the future Montana Tech offensive lineman.
The Miners will celebrate Senior Night Tuesday when they play host to the Bozeman Bucks in a 6 p.m. doubleheader at 3 Legends Stadium.
Today’s podcast is brought to you by Casagranda’s Steakhouse. Eat where the locals eat.
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Podcast No. 107: Cal McQueary

Before he played receiver on the Indoor Football League champion Idaho Horsemen, Cal McQueary played quarterback at Butte High and receiver at Montana Tech.
He was one of the toughest players I covered in my years on the Oredigger beat. He was never the biggest or fastest, but nobody had an edge on Cal when it came to toughness — mentally or physically.
That is why I am not surprised that he is still catching passes and scoring touchdowns as he approaches his 38th birthday.
After coaching a couple of seasons under Bob Green and then Chuck Morrell at Montana Tech, McQueary Idaho where he continued his football life on the sidelines and on the field.
He coaches at Meridian High School, where he also teaches.
Earlier today I met with Cal at one of my favorite spots in world — the Coaches Corner at the Metals Sports Bar & Grill — for a really fun conversation.
Listen in to hear Cal talk about his days at Butte High, where he played with the likes of Cole Salo and Colt Anderson. Listen as he talks about playing for Coach Bob Green and his favorite line from the famous coach. Listen as he talks about hitting the wall — literally — while playing indoor football. Listen as he talks about his future in football and beyond.
Today’s podcast is presented by Lone Peak Physical Therapy. If you are not living your best life, call (406) 494-7050 today and start feeling better as soon as tomorrow.
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The golf pro and Mount St. Helens

No matter what I tell them, my wife and kids just cannot understand my infatuation with Mount St. Helens, the volcano in southwest Washington.
While I have never been there, it seems like the mountain and I are old friends.
Mount St. Helens blew its top on May 18, 1980. It was a Sunday.
I did not have to look up the day of the week because that eruption, which blanked Butte with ash, occurred on Family Day at the Highland View Golf Course. While the volcano started erupting early in the morning, we didn’t know about it until late in the afternoon.
It was, after all, way before social media and 24-hour cable news.
For nearly two months, we knew there was a chance the volcano was going to erupt in a big way, though nobody probably believed it would blow up with an explosion that was 1,600 times the size of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.
I found out about the eruption from Jack Crowley, the golf pro at the course we affectionately called “the Muni.”
Jack, who was the world’s oldest little kid and a man I loved like a grandfather, was warning everyone as if we were about to be overcome by a wall of ash and lava in any minute. He was making himself a mask, which I believe included a garbage bag and a coffee filter.
Even as a 6-year-old boy, I knew that mask was nothing short of ridiculous.
Family Day happened once a month, on a Sunday, from May through September during Jack’s magical 29 seasons as the pro. It included a potluck lunch, a scramble, a duffer’s derby and a whole lot of fun.
That one day each month was probably why the Muni was like one big family. Everyone knew everyone at the golf course.
The derby was always the last event of the day, and Jack ran out to warn all the golfers about Mount St. Helens as they made their way down the ninth hole. He was wearing his mask.
He told everyone that Mount St. Helens erupted, and everyone had to go home immediately. You could see the dark clouds approaching. They were looming in the distance like a major thunderstorm.
I don’t remember if I witnessed ash falling that night, but I remember that I woke up to our yard and car covered with what looked like gray snow.
School was canceled. Even though I was in kindergarten and I still liked school at that stage in my life, that was welcomed news.
I watched everything I could about Mount St. Helens. A year after the eruption, the movie “St. Helens” was released on HBO.
We had a descrambler on the back of our TV, so we could watch the movie. I watched and watched and watched.
At the next Family Day — or it could have been any Family Day in the next two years — I remember playing in the mud where they were adding on a section on the north end of the old clubhouse.
I was playing with the Murphy brothers — Scott, Tim, Art and Ryan — as we made mountains in the mud. I made Mount St. Helens.
At first, I had the pre-1980 version of the Mountain, then I made the booming sound effects as I made it erupt out the north side, leaving it kind of look like a horseshoe from the top.
It was one of my favorite memories from the Muni, and about 90 percent of my good times as a boy came from that golf course.
Most of those good memories involved Jack, who would wow us with magic when he wasn’t showing us a trick on the golf course.
My family was so close to Jack that I thought we were related when I was little. We might as well have been. He was one of my grandpa’s best friends.
My grandpa could easily find the fault in anyone, but not Jack. He was untouchable. He was as good as they come.
Jack was at the Muni every day during his 29 seasons as a pro from 1969 through 1996. He opened the clubhouse shortly after the sun came up, and he was there to close it at dark.
In his song “River Kids,” the great musician Tim Montana sings, “Take me back. Take me back, back when we were river kids.” I sometimes find myself singing that song, but about Muni kids.
I would give anything to go be a Muni kid again. A million perfect things came together just right to make it such a magical place, and the No. 1 thing was Jack.
He poured his whole life into that golf course.
Over the last couple of months, I have been thinking about the old golf pro quite a bit. That is because I have been looking forward to this Saturday at noon when the new Jack Crowley Clubhouse at the Muni will officially be dedicated in honor of the pro who passed away in 2010. He was just 74.
Jack’s family, including his son John and his daughters Jodi and Paula, will be there for the dedication, as will hopefully 100s of former Muni kids who knew the greatness of the old course and the old pro.
Coincidentally, I have also been thinking about Mount St. Helens.
I have been reading a ton about the mountain, and I have watched countless videos. I even watched the movie “St. Helens” for the first time in 40 years. The movie is available for free on YouTube — no descrambler required — and it is awful.
Like with the movie “Titanic,” the movie makers had a great true story to tell. Instead, they chose to insert fiction into it. Terrible fiction.
Instead of honoring the great David Johnston, the volcanologist killed in the eruption, it featured a fictional “rebel” geologist named David Jackson. As if there was ever such a thing as a “rebel” geologist.
But I will probably watch the movie again, just for the eruption scenes.
Mount St. Helens came back into my life thanks to my new friend Robert Lester, the mountaineer who finished his canoe journey from Butte to the Pacific Ocean this past weekend.
Robert was a guest on my podcast a while back, and he was talking about some of his greatest adventures. One story Robert told was about the time he climbed up the south side of Mount St. Helens.
I told him how I was always fascinated by that mountain and the story of its eruption.
A couple days later, Robert showed up at my house with a photo he took from the top of the mountain, looking down into its crater.
You can see down to Spirit Lake, where Harry R. Truman, a World War I veteran who would not leave his home during the evacuation orders, lived. In the distance looking north you can see Mount Rainier.
I put the photo, which is 20 inches wide and 30 inches tall, in a frame and hung it on the wall above my computer.
Sometimes, I just sit back and stare at the photo for an hour or more. It really is that great. The photo is truly one of the best gifts I have ever received.
In addition to its beauty, it is a reminder of some of the best days of my life.
Every time I look at the photo, I think about the greatest golf pro to ever live wearing a mask that was completely ridiculous.
— Bill Foley, who knows what it is like to look ridiculous, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 before that weirdo billionaire destroys it. Listen to the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.















