-
Podcast No. 22: Brodie Kelly
Next month, Brodie Kelly will begin his 19th season as the head coach of Butte Central’s boys’ basketball team.
Once again, Kelly’s Maroons open the season as Class A State champions.
In his first 18 season, Kelly led BC to the State tournament 16 times. The Maroons shared the 2020 title with Hardin, thanks to the arrival of the COVID-19 pandemic. Last March, Central won it all again, beating Lewistown in a state title game for the ages in Missoula.
Before he was a coach, Kelly was a player, and a tough one at that. He originally signed to play football and basketball at Montana Tech. He spent some time as a football player at Montana State.
Then, Kelly settled in as a defensive machine for coach Rick Dessing’s Montana Tech men’s basketball team. Kelly would guard the best player on the opposing team every night. He might guard the point guard on Friday and the post player on Saturday.
Click here to listen in as Kelly discusses those playing days for Dessing. He talks about playing at BC, where he won a state title in basketball and played for one in football.
He also talked about being a part of Butte Central’s Class of 1993 and how he has coached pretty much his entire life.
-
Welcome to Hell, Packers fans
It is really too bad that the wannabe fascist dictator Elon Musk is running Twitter into the ground.
I was just about to have some real fun at the expense of Green Bay Packers fans.
For the past 30 years, the Packers have owned the Chicago Bears.
Just as the Packers were starting to emerge from a couple of irrelevant decades in the late 1980s, the Bears started sliding head first into Football Hell.
The reversal of fortunes for the two storied NFL teams goes back to two colossal injustices.
A lot of people point to the Instant Replay Game of 1989 for starting it all. That is the game when Packers quarterback Don Majkowski threw a 12 1/2-yard pass for a touchdown on fourth and goal from the 14-yard line.
That is not a typo.
Majkowski ran past the line of scrimmage on the play, and the officials rightly called the quarterback for an illegal forward pass.
With 41 seconds left in the game, the ball went back to the Bears, who were leading 13-7.
However, the replay official buzzed in. After a very long delay, the official, who we can only assume was wearing his official “I’m a Packer” body paint and wig set, reversed the call.
The Packers “won” 14-13. The Bears did not win another game that season as they began a spiral that led to more than three decades of pain and sorrow for their loyal fans, like me.
Packers fans started wearing shirts that read, “After further review, the Bears still suck,” and they continue to chant that today.
The reversal of fortune, however, actually began in 1986 when Packers defensive lineman Charles Martin hit Bears quarterback Jim McMahon extremely late.
You can watch the play for yourself. This is not an exaggeration. Martin’s hit on McMahon is probably the dirtiest play in the history of sports.
The Punky QB threw an interception. After the play was whistled dead following the interception, Martin grabbed McMahon from behind, like the coward that he was. Martin then buried McMahon’s shoulder into to the hard artificial turf, which was basically a thin carpet over a slab of cement, at Soldier Field.
McMahon’s shoulder was ripped to shreds.
Later that season, my favorite quarterback of all time underwent reconstructive surgery on his shoulder, and the quarterback was never the same.
He was still a winner, but he could never throw the ball like he once could. The Bears traded him just before the 1989 season, breaking my heart.
That dirty play cost the Bears at least one Super Bowl. Maybe more.
Martin was ejected from the game and suspended two more games for the play. He should have been arrested and sent to prison.
The Packers, though, celebrated the player when he returned.
For more than 30 years, I have been waiting for the karma from those two injustices to catch up to the Packers. Instead, the team with the ugliest uniforms in sports just kept getting lucky.
Karma did catch up to Martin. He died of kidney failure in 2005. The Packers, though, have had a horse shoe shoved up their behind.
First, the Atlanta Falcons dropped Brett Favre on their laps. Then, Aaron Rodgers fell to the Packers, who drafted him with the 24th pick of the 2005 NFL Draft.
Having one Hall of Fame quarterback is lucky enough. Having two back-to-back is absolutely unheard of. It’s like winning the Powerball jackpot two weeks in a row.
Rodgers and Favre are not just Hall of Famers. In my book, they are two of the top five quarterbacks of my lifetime.
(Joe Montana, Dan Marino and John Elway round out that top five, by the way. Get out of here with that Tom Brady talk.)
While I do find it hysterical that the Packers only won two Super Bowls in that time, Packers fans have had a lot to celebrate over that stretch.
They have not been exactly nice about it, either.
When the Packers beat the Bears in Week 2 this year, Rodgers was leading the Packers fans in a “Bears still suck” chant.
Packers fans make Carroll College fans almost seem humble.
Almost.
Karma did not catch up to them for the Martin hit and the Replay Game, though Packers fans comically cry about the “Fail Mary” in Seattle. Like they know what pain is.
The behavior of their two Hall of Fame quarterbacks tempted fate even more.
Favre has been implicated in a scam to rob welfare recipients out of much-needed money in order to benefit a college athletic program.
Rodgers, well, he has proven to be a real piece of garbage.
During the pandemic, Rodgers lied about his vaccination status, thus putting the lives of his teammates, coaches and media members, and their families, at stake.
Then, when things go bad for Rodgers on the field, he makes sure to go on a highly-rated podcast to point the finger at his teammates, coaches and management.
No wonder this guy’s family no longer talks to him.
Finally, it appears that things are starting to catch up with the Packers.
Even though he is coming off back-to-back MVP seasons, Rodgers is playing awful this year. On Sunday, he threw three redzone interceptions in a loss to the Lions in Detroit.
The loss was Green Bay’s fifth straight, and that streak will likely balloon to eight games with dates with Dallas, Tennessee and Philadelphia coming up for the Packers.
Since Rodgers is making so much money, the Packers are also in a tight spot with the salary cap. They have little resources to try to make things better in the offseason.
Plus, the front office that drafted Jordan Love in the first round in 2020 and traded away Davante Adams this past offseason does not seem quipped for the task.
It is highly unlikely they will find a third straight Hall of Fame quarterback. Actually, it is almost impossible.
Yes, the Packers are spiraling into Football Hell, a place Bears fans know all too well.
While the Packers pick their seat for a long stay, the Bears are showing signs of moving out.
The team is currently in front of the parole board, represented by Justin Fields, whose offense outscored Tom Brady and Aaron Rodgers — combined — over the last three weeks.
While there is clearly no guarantee that the Bears will fully emerge from the torment of the past three decades, we all take so much comfort knowing what is in store for Packers fans.
We lived it. Now they will, too.
It will probably be even worse for those fans silly enough to pay $250 for a sock in the team.
That “stock,” by the way, is completely fake. At least joining the Little Orphan Annie Secret Society will get you a decoder ring.
Packers “owners” paid $250 for a worthless piece of paper. They might as well have bought some ocean front property in Arizona.
That, by the way, would seem like a very cool place to be compared to where Packers fans are headed.
Football Hell is no picnic. It will be so far from fun for Packers fans, but I will be having a blast welcoming them to my world.
If only Twitter will stick around long enough for me to point and laugh at them.
— Bill Foley, whose seniority makes him a high-ranking member of Football Hell, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 while you can.
-
Podcast No. 21: Jesse Laslovich
Today’s podcast guest comes from our little brother town of Anaconda.
Jesse Laslovich got an early start in politics and officiating basketball games. Earlier this year, he was confirmed and sworn in as the United States Attorney for the District of Montana.
The appointment came after Laslovich served his constituents in the Montana Senate and the Montana House of Representatives.
In this podcast, we talk about Laslovich’s upbringing in Anaconda. We talk about his family, including his father, the late, great Tony Laslovich.
We talk about all the beatings Jesse and the Anaconda Copperheads suffered at the hands of the Butte Central Maroons. We also talk about the wins.
We also talk about how Laslovich called the fifth foul on Butte Central’s Kyle Holter in the Class A State championship game in Missoula. We like him anyway.
Click here to listen in as we get to know one of the Smelter City’s finest, Jesse Laslovich.
-
Sign up to officiate, but don’t’ go ‘up top’
The sight was hard to believe.
After Kalispell Glacier beat Butte High in a freshman football game in Kalispell early last month, the Glacier players lined up to “thank” the officials.
That, in itself, was nothing out of the ordinary. You see it all the time.
What you do not see, though, is officials chest bumping and fist bumping the players so enthusiastically.
It was literally the first time I saw an official go “up top” with a player. (Click here for the podcast edition of this column.)
Yes, that is what a few of the officials from Kalispell did that day, and the Butte High players noticed.
Those players already felt like they were the victims of a homer job — like almost every other road team in every football game ever — before they saw how happy the officials seemed to be with the Glacier players.
Seeing the celebration felt like confirmation that they got hosed.
Walking from the stands on our way to meet our son after the game, my wife and I ended up just a few feet from the officials and the Wolfpack celebrating the lopsided victory.
It took all that I could not to say anything to the officials for behavior that felt very over the top and even more unprofessional. But since I have been writing for years that we should treat officials with respect, I bit my lip, literally, and did not say a word.
I did, however, yell at the officials twice during the game. I yelled enough that my wife told me to zip it because she was embarrassed.
While the Butte High players on the closest sideline did not hear me — so the officials certainly did not — other fans did.
“This is why they say, ‘The Celtics couldn’t win in Kalispell,’” I said several times.
People around the state actually say that. They have been for decades.
The saying goes back to the days when Bill Russell played in Boston.
While many say it because they say the officials are not fair in Kalispell, I believe it might have originally started because Kalispell was very good. Plus, the visitors had a long trip to town, making Kalispell’s home advantage better than most.
I cannot claim that officials in Kalispell are unfair because that freshman football game is the only regular-season high school event I have ever attended in Kalispell.
I assume they are just as fair in Kalispell as they are everywhere else.
Also, there is no way the officials impacted the outcome on that game. I believe the score was 45-8 in favor of the home team.
But there were two calls by the same official that set me off.
The first one was on a punt. A Kalispell blocker had the most obvious clip in the history of football. He had one hand on each number on the back of a Bulldog defender, and it was right in front of the official.
The clip helped a no return on a punt into a return of about 30 yards, setting up Glacier’s second TD.
The official grabbed at his flag and then decided not to throw it.
I figured he was either grossly incompetent or he knew the clipper.
Later, the same official, from about 40 yards away, threw a flag to call pass interference on a Butte High player who turned around and tipped away an underthrown ball. If there was any contact at all, it was well after the ball was tipped away.
It was as bad of a call as his earlier no call. Just awful.
Both of those plays probably would have been forgotten if it had not been for the ridiculous display by the stripped men after the game.
Sure, every opposing fan thinks his team got homered on the road. Most think they got homered at home, too.
Fans do not want a fairly-officiated game. They want all the calls to go their way.
Also, most fans do not know how hard those officials work to be their best.
We need officials. Without officials, it is just recess, as they say.
That is why, despite my insistence that those were two of the worse calls/no calls I have seen outside of Lambeau Field, I am very embarrassed that I yelled at the officials at all.
If you are not willing to put on the stripes, you should probably just shut your trap.
Last week, local official John Kinzle called to see if I would join the local prep basketball official’s pool since I am no longer covering local sports.
Being a sportswriter was always my excuse not to work as an official.
Now, though, I have a better excuse. I have labrum tears in both my hips. While I can ride my bike and have avoided surgery thanks to Ashley Wold at Lone Peak Physical Therapy and Diamond Dallas Page Yoga, I cannot run very far at all.
That is from all my years ignoring warning signs as I continued to run way too far, training for marathons.
So, I had to decline John’s invitation. For now.
This week, however, I will work as an official at the Special Olympics State Games Basketball Tournament in Butte. I worked the same tournament three years ago, and it was a blast.
If my body holds up, I just might give prep officiating a try. But I do not expect that to happen.
The first time I officiated the Special Olympics, I was paired with the legendary Mike Anderson. This year, it appears I will get to work with my cousin, the legendary Mike “Skinny” Foley.
If anyone gives me a hard time, I will defer to Skinny, just like I did with Anderson.
You have to be a real boob to yell at an official in the Special Olympics, by the way.
Actually, you have to be a real boob to yell at an official at all.
In Kalispell, I was that boob.
If, like me, you find yourself doing just that, stop it. You are only making the problem worse, and you are probably embarrassing your spouse and child.
Also, if you do not have labrum tears in your hips, you should consider signing up to be an official. You have until the end of November to take and pass the open-book test to qualify to officiate in the 2022-23 season.
Officials are needed in all sports, and you can sign up on the Montana Officials Association link at MHSA.org. You can also send me an email and I can put you in touch with some local officials who will help you with uniforms and anything else you might need to become an official.
The numbers for officials are dropping around the country, and they are going down at an alarming rate.
On top of all that horrible fan behavior, COVID made the decline even more drastic.
We need fans to behave better. We also need some capable men and women to step up before all high school sporting events go away.
That is not hyperbole, either. We have already seen games canceled and rescheduled because of official shortages. So, it is not out of the question that high school sports could go away all together if this decline does not stop, and stop now.
Waiting any longer could be too late.
So, please, consider signing up to become an official today. It is a great way to meet some awesome people, and it is a great way to stay in shape. It will also put a few extra bucks in your pocket.
If you do step up and become an official, however, you might want to take it easy on the postgame chest bumps.
— Bill Foley, who specializes in hyperbole, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74.
-
Podcast No. 20: Hattie Thatcher
The Thatcher family in Butte is legendary for its toughness.
Whether it is in the sporting arena or on the streets, Butte folks know better than to mess with a Thatcher. (Click here to listen to the full podcast.)
The Thatchers are also known for their honesty, straight forwardness and their generosity. We’ve had just under 3 billon Coach Thatchers in town.
Hattie Thatcher was one of the feistiest Thatchers when it came to competing in sports. She stood out in volleyball, basketball and softball at Butte High before graduating in 2013. She was part of Butte High’s Class AA State championship softball team in 2011.
At Montana Tech, Thatcher set the Orediggers’ all-time assist and steals records.
Today, Thatcher represents District 3 on the Butte-Silver Bow Council of Commissioners.
Listen in as she discusses Hattie’s playing days, growing up a Thatcher and her work on the Council of Commissioners.
Hattie is the first Thatcher to appear on the ButteCast, but she will not be the last.
-
Podcast No. 19: Kellie Johnson-Mead
Even though it has been 25 years since she graduated from Butte Central, Kellie Johnson-Mead is still widely known by her initials.
Those initials, KJ, immediately make you think of greatness. KJ was a superstar in basketball, volleyball and softball for Butte Central. She pitched (and hit) the Maroons to the 1997 Class A State title. Her team likely would have won the 1996 title, too, if the state tournament had not been rained out.
(Click here to listen to the full podcast.)
KJ followed her hoop dreams to Illinois State, where she started on the hardwood for three seasons before an ankle injury forced her to retire.
Today, KJ still symbolizes greatness. Johnson, who was born in Anaconda and lived in Whitehall before moving to the Mining City, works at Cannon Air Force Base in Clovis, New Mexico. She is a human performance advisor for special operations.
Listen in as KJ discusses playing for Coach Meg Murphy, putting up 42 points on Whitehall, taking on the Copperheads and Bulldogs, playing Babe Ruth Baseball, beating up on her younger brother Rob and much, much more.
-
Podcast No. 18: Mike Anderson
After 44 years officiating high school and college basketball, Mike Anderson is calling it a career.
Mike was a two-year starter as a defensive back for the Butte High Bulldogs. He served many years as an assistant coach in Butte High’s football program, and he led the Butte Miners baseball program for nine years.
He also never has a hair out of place. At least not in public.
Mike and his wife Michele raised four successful children. You might have heard of their third boy. Colt Anderson is a Butte High Bulldog and Montana Grizzly legend. After a nine-year career in the NFL, Colt is now an assistant coach with the Cincinnati Bengals.
Click here to listen in as Mike discusses his long officiating career, his many mentors, his grandchildren and watching the Bengals.
-
The ‘Archman’ showed us all how to ‘live the dream’
Arch Ecker only lived in Butte for 16 of his 56 years on this planet.
It sure seems like he was here a lot longer than that.
Ecker was known by so many in town as the “Archman.” It was a title I believe he gave himself when he was working at KMBR in Butte. If memory serves me right, it was his way of making fun of disk jockey nicknames.
The moniker, though, seemed perfect. It was good enough that the legendary Gamers Café in Butte named the Archman Omelet after the comical voice on the morning radio. (Click here for the podcast version of this column.)
I got my first taste of the Archman Omelet one morning in the KMBR studio. Matt Vincent and I arrived at 6 o’clock one very cold morning to play “Celebrity Trivial Pursuit,” and Vinny and I were the “celebrities.”
Arch ordered us some omelets and paid for the local taxi to deliver them. Arch used DoorDash before there was DoorDash.
Vinny and I had so much fun doing a couple of hours of radio with Arch that we decided to invite him to be our special guest during the Elsie Awards.
The Montana Standard fun police decided they would no longer run our column, so we went radio only that year with the Archman.
We wrote the column at Maloney’s and had so much fun it should have been illegal. In fact, it might have been.
We went on the radio a few mornings later and read the column the three of us wrote. The listeners could not have laughed as hard as we did as we relived our silliness live on the radio.
During those mornings with Arch, we got a glimpse into the true radio genius that he was.
My favorite part was seeing him do his character, Cletus. I wish I could remember Cletus’ last name. I remember it was really funny, but I cannot remember what it was.
Cletus had the thick redneck accent that you would expect of a guy named Cletus.
To let you behind the curtain, Cletus was Arch. Or, Arch was Cletus.
Arch used the station phone to call the switchboard. Then he put the phone line on the air.
Watching Arch simultaneously play the part of two people was better than watching an Abbott and Costello routine. He would go back and forth from the radio microphone and the phone as he held a hilarious, and borderline schizophrenic, conversation with himself.
Cletus called in just about every day to go over the weather with Arch. He would talk about the hot and cold spots in the country from the day before. He would also mention the location in the country that had the most precipitation.
Cletus called that the “wet spot,” and Arch agreed it was no place to be.
The only thing that could rival Cletus calling in was Arch reading the hot lunch menu with his buddy Tommy O’Neill.
In November of 1996, Arch found his true calling when he stumbled into broadcasting hockey games for the Butte Fighting Irish.
That team, of course, became simply the Irish in its second season, and Arch called 329 games for the team before it closed up shop.
During those 329 games, Arch discovered that he was put on this planet to call hockey games.
Well, call hockey games, play music, entertain and have a whole lot of fun. That is what Arch did.
Arch was a California native, and a huge fan of the Los Angeles Kings.
He might go down as one of the only Californians to end up being a beloved figure in the Mining City.
With the Irish done playing, Arch went looking for another team to call. He did not want to leave Butte, where he was a popular singer in the band Venus Alley.
Even after he left, Arch was still a popular musician in Butte. His trips back to visit usually included at least one night performing at Julian’s Piano Bar.
Arch only left because he had to follow his passion.
“I put the headset on and it felt like I was doing it forever,” he said of calling his first game.
He liked calling games so much, that, after the Irish folded, he would drive to Helena to broadcast for their Junior A Hockey team while he still worked at KMBR early in the morning.
In April of 2006, Arch left Butte to take a job as the radio man for the Santa Fe (New Mexico) RoadRunners. A year later, the team moved to Topeka, Kansas, and Arch went with them.
I caught up with Arch in September of 2013 to write a story about him calling his 1,000th hockey game. I asked him how life was going, and Arch replied in a way that was so Arch.
“I’m talking hockey all the time, playing music and fooling the masses,” Arch said. “It’s called living the dream.”
Eventually, that dream took Arch to Wenatchee, Washington, where he was the beloved play-by-play broadcaster for the Wenatchee Wild.
Arch was preparing to call his 1,500th career game at the beginning of this season.
In June of 2021, however, Arch was involved in a horrific single-car crash on Interstate 90 near Ritzville, Washington.
His car flipped and rolled several times, and it took nothing short of a miracle for Arch to survive.
It took a miracle, multiple surgeries and a whole lot of will to live.
Arch knew how much he was needed by so many people who love him.
He kept all of his family and friends updated on his recovery with a series of videos from his hospital bed.
Those videos eventually were broadcast from a rehabilitation facility before Arch finally went home.
Through it all, he always had that incredible sense of humor. Through it all, he was still the Archman.
On Sept. 6, Arch posted a selfie on Facebook. He said he was in Spokane, getting ready to go in for one last surgery.
Arch never made it out of the hospital.
A week later, he died of a heart attack in his hospital room, and the world has been a less funny place ever since.
The outpouring of love for Arch on social media was off the charts. Arch left a trail of people who loved him at every place he ever called home.
The Archman left this planet way too soon. He was only 56. We figured we’d get another 1,500 games and another billion laughs out of him before he was gone.
One post on his Facebook page quoted Dr. Seuss.
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
It took me several weeks to finally be able to see clearly enough to write about my friend. Even though I had not seen him or talked to him in many years (other than Facebook), I miss him terribly.
When I think of Arch, though, I will always smile and be happy that it happened. That Arch happened.
He was one man who truly showed us all how to live the dream.
— Bill Foley, who also misses the Archman Omelet, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74.
-
Jethro Bodine and gun control
Nothing will spoil a party or a family gathering faster than a discussion over gun control.
When you think about it, though, it really is a silly issue to get so heated over. Most people agree to some kind of control over arms. Really, they do.
Even the “f— your feelings” crowd driving around with “Let’s Go Brandon” flags on their trucks agree with some kind of arms control.
If they say they do not, then ask them if they think Kim Jong-un should have a nuclear weapon. (Click here for the podcast version of this column.)
But it gets simpler than that. Most of us have at least one neighbor whose right to bear arms we would really like to infringe upon.
Everybody has at least one neighbor who is a few cards short of a full deck and think, “Boy, am I glad he doesn’t have an Uzi.”
Actually, it goes even further than that. We all have a neighbor or two whose right to drive an automobile we would like to strip away.
The idiot does not seem to understand a speed limit, stop sign or turn signal.
When it comes to the Second Amendment, though, we fight about gun control, even if most of us agree to some kind of limitations. We just differ on where to draw the line.
Granted, that can be a big distinction for some of us.
Butte Central graduate Rob O’Neill is an ardent supporter of the Second Amendment, but he knows that we have to draw the line somewhere.
Recently on his podcast, The Operator, which I highly recommend, Rob said that he is in favor of anyone, in sound mind, owning any weapon he or she wants up to a flamethrower.
The key is “in sound mind.”
I am a person who battles depression, and I would not be alive if my family owned a gun when I was in junior high or high school. So, I will never own a gun.
But I really want a flame thrower.
How awesome would that be? Taking a flamethrower to the sidewalk would beat the heck out of shoveling all that snow.
Rob, though, does not think I should have one. The lefty pinko.
We agree that there should be some level of arms control, though I apparently draw the line one weapon down from the great Navy SEAL legend.
I have never been a huge proponent of overly-strict gun control because I know the bad guys will still get the guns. At least that is what they tell us.
Registration of guns — so we can live up to that often-ignored “well-regulated” part of the Second Amendment — is a different story.
We should also have sound background checks and some red-flag laws. If a mother calls the cops to report that her mentally-ill son is threatening to shoot up a school, we should have multiple levels of law enforcement check that guy out.
Most sane people would agree with that.
Do you want the guy walking down the street arguing with himself to possess an AR-15?
We also do not want a guy who beat up his wife buying a gun so he can finish the job.
O’Neill says I should not have a flamethrower, and I’m sure the fire department would agree with him.
So, we can assume that I should also not own a tank. That is an “arm” that could be even more deadly than a flamethrower.
I can barely handle the responsibility of owning a baseball bat, so we should all agree that I should not be driving a tank and carrying a flamethrower.
We should also agree that we do not want that one crazy neighbor to have those, either.
I definitely have some neighbors who should NOT be allowed anywhere near a tank. I live down the street from a couple of families involved in a full-blown feud.
It is a Hatfield vs. McCoy level feud that has the police, animal control or the parking commission on my block pretty much every week.
Ask any police officer in town, and he will tell you he knows the feud of which I write.
The feud, which apparently started over a parking space eight or nine years ago, really escalated over the summer. It got to the point that it has the entire block convinced that it will one day result in bloodshed.
On the north side of the street, we have a woman and her live-in boyfriend. One of the neutral neighbors calls them “Jethro Bodine and the Roller Derby Queen.”
Jethro from The Beverly Hillbillies, though, is much more personable.
Directly across the street, we have a family that, at any given time, might have 10 people living there. They fight with Jethro and the Queen.
Now, I hate to pick sides in the feud, but I tend to lean toward the large family on the south side of the street. I would probably cheer for the White Sox over the Cubs if I lived in Chicago, too.
The family is full of very friendly people. Jethro and the Queen, on the other hand, are not.
That is fine because most people would prefer a neighbor who did not talk to you.
While they might be more friendly, the southside family is hardly innocent in this dispute. For months, they had a big sign on top of their house that was aimed at the Queen. It said something like “Go f— yourself, Karen.”
Not exactly and olive branch.
The matriarch of that family was also arrested for, allegedly, going down the alley behind Jethro and the Queen’s house and intentionally running into their shed.
She denies the accusation, but the police sided with Jethro and the Queen that night.
One other night, I saw the Queen walk out her front door and aim a firework at her feuding neighbors.
The family called the police after the firework, which was lit before the legal firework period surrounding the Fourth of July set in, resulted in six to eight large explosions just above the family’s roof.
After the police showed up, talked to both parties and left, a small four-wheeler that I saw a few days earlier at Jethro and the Queen’s house, drove by and threw an M-80 at the family’s car.
A night later, the Queen again shot off a firework above the family’s home. This time, she ran inside and turned off the lights after the explosions.
When the police knocked on her door, she did not answer.
Amazingly, that worked. After they knocked for a few minutes, the police left — even though they knew she was inside.
Try that next time you have a noise complaint. I dare you.
Both parties own their houses, and both like to gather in front of their houses. Neither side is going to back down.
Even on summer nights when the cops are not involved, the conversation is very hostile. With each day, the hatred grows, and many fear that this feud might someday end in some real violence.
Oh, and the assumption is that both sides are armed, and that cannot make anybody in the neighborhood feel exactly safe.
This could be one case where a red-flag law could come in handy.
Now, I am not advocating infringing on anybody’s constitutional rights.
But I am going to be really nervous if I see one of those neighbors suddenly driving a tank.
— Bill Foley, who would look like Michael Dukakis in a tank, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74.
-
Podcast No. 17: John Emeigh
John Emeigh is a reporter for KXLF-TV and KBZK-TV. He is also one of the great Mining City characters.
Whether it is on stage acting or sing, writing a novel or reporting a story, John has an electric personality that is easy to like. Outside of the stage and television, John is the exact same person.
He is genuine, honest and funny. He is really funny. While he is not the best softball player in the world, he just might be the best teammate if you are looking for a few laughs.
Born in Detroit and raised in Michigan and Louisiana, John is now a Butte Rat. He never plans to leave. Around the state, he is known as “Mr. Butte” when he is bringing us the news. Talk about a great nickname for one of the only Detroit Lions fans in town.
Click here to listen in as we catch up with John Emeigh.
The ButteCast with Bill Foley 