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Podcast No. 150: Kelci Thatcher and Kate Dennehy

Butte’s East Middle School is one of the best schools in the nation to attend if you have special needs.
At least that is what ESPN says.
Recently, the Bullpups were recognized as one of the top 40 inclusive schools in the nation during a telecast of SportsCenter.
One of the biggest reasons for that inclusiveness is the Unified Sports program at the school. Teachers and friends Kelci Thatcher and Kate (Vaughn) Dennehy are two of the incredible teachers behind the program.
Thatcher and Dennehy both teach special education at East. Thatcher is also the athletic director at the school. Both coach Unified Sports, which began a few years ago with basketball.
Listen in to this podcast to hear about the inception of the Unified sports program at East. Listen to how it has grown and will continue to grow.
Listen as Kelci and Kate describe how including special needs students enhances the school experience for all the students at East. Listen to how much fun they have teaching and coaching the special needs students
Today’s podcast is brought to you by Leskovar Honda, home of the 20-year, 200,000-mile warrantee. Kelci Thatcher, left, and Kate Dennehy are shown in the photo above.
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Let the bands march on

The best college football game I ever watched in person was played Dec. 3, 1994 at a snowy Washington-Grizzly Stadium in Missoula.
With injured superstar quarterback Dave Dickenson on the sideline with an ankle injury, Montana’s Andy Larson booted a 37-yard field goal with 8 seconds left. That lifted the Grizzlies to a 30-28 win over McNeese State in the NCAA Division I-AA quarterfinals.
The win came a little more than a year after Delaware beat the Grizzlies 49-48 in a first-round playoff game on the snowy Washington-Grizzly turf.
McNeese State had the lead and the ball late in the game, and Griz Nation was feeling a sense of déjà vu. The Griz fans in the crowd — and those watching on television — were collectively scared to death.
Griz coach Don Read called a late time out, and the Montana band jumped to its feet. For the first time of the game — and perhaps the season — the band played the song “Montana.”
No, it wasn’t the school’s fight song. Rather, it was the old official state song.
Montana, Montana, Glory of the West
Of all the states from coast to coast, you’re easily the best
Montana, Montana, where skies are always blue
M-O-N-T-A-N-A
Montana I love youI will never forget that moment, which came when the skies were, by the way, gray and white. Neither will most of the fans who packed the stadium, which had not yet been expanded to include seats in the end zones.
I will never forget how forceful the band director was when he stood up and signaled for the playing of that song. It was almost as if the band said, “No, we are not losing today.”
Did the band play a part in that win that day? I would say so. It definitely changed the attitude of the entire stadium, maybe even players included.’
We went from worried to cautiously optimistic.
Shortly after the band played that song and the entire stadium sang along, the Grizzlies stopped Henry Fields, McNeese State’s all-time leading rusher, on a fourth-down-and-1 at the Grizzly 12-yard line.
Then, backup quarterback Bert Wilberger and tiny receiver Matt Wells led the Grizzlies into field goal position for the win.
The next week, the Griz went on the road and fell 28-9 to Youngstown State in the semifinals. Still, that McNeese State game was one of the highlights of my years as a student at the University of Montana.
That game came back to mind when I saw the recent shameful treatment of the school bands of Montana and Montana State by the universities. The MSU band was not allowed to attend the Cat-Griz game in Missoula earlier this month because the two schools reached an agreement that will mean a little more money for the schools.
When the Griz go to Bozeman next year, their band members will have to buy a ticket if they want in.
Even worse, though, was that the Montana band saw its use greatly diminished by the school’s administration for the Cat-Griz game. It was not even allowed to play the school fight song, “Up With Montana,” after Grizzly touchdowns.
Instead, the public address speakers blasted “Cotton Eye Joe” by Rednex. The Swedish music group released its catchy version of the old folk song in 1994.
The song has nothing to do with the Grizzlies or Montana, but it became a staple of Griz games when they started playing it during Dave Dickenson-led blowouts in 1994 or 1995 at Washington-Grizzly Stadium. To many Griz fans, that song immediately brings back memories of the best football days in school history.
The song, though, is not the school’s fight song. “Cotton Eye Joy” is a ditty about the American South in the days before the Civil War. While its lyrics seem equally silly, “Up With Montana” was written specifically for the Montana Grizzlies.
Up with Montana, boys, down with the foe,
Good ol’ Grizzlies out for a victory;
We’ll shoot our backs ’round the foeman’s line;
A hot time is coming now, oh, brother mine.
Up with Montana, boys, down with the foe,
Good old Grizzlies triumph today;
And the squeal of the pig will float on the air;
From the tummy of the Grizzly Bear.This, of course, is not about which song is better. This is about the students of the two Montana universities. These football games are supposed to be all about the students.
When I was a student at UM, it used to enrage me when the student section for basketball games was cut in half when Boise State came to town. The school took away from the students so it could sell more tickets.
That is exactly what the move to eliminate the visiting band from the Cat-Griz game is all about, too. To hell with the students, let’s make a few more bucks.
As if the 3-hour commercial that is a Montana Grizzly football game doesn’t bring in enough revenue for the suits in the luxury boxes.
If a school administer makes a decision to put the sale of a small number of tickets over the students who pay tuition to the school, then that administer should look for a different line of work.
The No. 1 job for any of the higher ups at universities should be to enhance the student experience, not detract from it.
Also, you don’t have to be a student playing an instrument to see the value of a band at sporting events. Can you imagine watching a USC football game without hearing the band play?
It is important to have the visiting bands at games, too. That only adds to the already great atmosphere of college sports.
As long as we have two bands, there is hardly any need for someone to play music over the speakers — even if it is a fun song like “Cotton Eye Joe.”
In 1997, I sports editor the school paper at UM, The Montana Kaimin, and I made fun of the band in columns because the members usually weren’t paying attention to the game.
One time, Josh Paffhausen, of Butte, America, scored a touchdown on a broken play right before halftime. As Paffer dove for the pylon for the score, you could see band members — oblivious to the action — doing the Hokey Pokey and turning themselves around in the background.
A few weeks later, an opposing band made a grand entrance from the tunnel in the northwest corner of the stadium. The band members marched in single file up to their seats. Then each band member marched in place until the all the members reached their seats.
After that, the band played the school’s fight song, and the entire stadium — including the UM band — gave that band a standing ovation.
At the next home game, the Grizzly band made an entrance of its own. Seeing the way that other band performed during the game made the UM band a better band.
It didn’t make the members better musicians, but it made the band members better participants in the game.
A few years later, I returned to my alma mater for a basketball game, and I couldn’t believe how into the game the band members were. They definitely played a huge role in the Grizzlies’ overtime win over Northern Arizona on that Saturday in February of 2004.
As much as fans around the state want to fight over the Bobcats and Grizzlies, the games are not just about the fans. They are not about the profiteers poisoning the waters with FTC and FTG hats.
The games are supposed to be about the students first. That is something that the administrations of both schools have seemed to lose sight of, and that is too bad.
If those administrators who made these awful decisions need proof that they errored by hamstringing the bands, all they have to do is put on the tape of that McNeese State game from 1994.
— Bill Foley, who can’t carry a tune in a bucket, 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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Saying goodbye to my best friend

The toughest part is going home.
For 4,217 days, returning to my house meant that I would be welcomed home by my best friend Bandit. She was a purebred English Setter, and I knew she would be standing on my front porch to greet me.
She was black and white, with black spots covering both of her eyes. It looked like she was wearing a bandit’s mask, and she was the most beautiful dog I ever laid my eyes on. She was also the smartest.
No matter the weather, that beautiful pooch would be outside waiting for me. She wouldn’t just wag her tail when I got home; she would wag her entire body. All four feet would shuffle as I walked through the gate.
She would jump up and down as I punched in the door code before zooming into and around the house. Nothing could beat the feeling of that welcome home. Nothing.
The rest of the world could hate me, but Bandit was there to offer unconditional love.
That welcome occurred almost every day for 11 years, 6 months and 16 days from May 5, 2012 until Nov. 20, 2023. Those were the best 4,217 days of my life.
I got Bandit from Nick, a friend and co-worker at The Montana Standard. Nick had her mother, and he sold all of Bandit’s siblings. He thought about keeping Bandit after a sale to someone else fell through, but he decided to send her home with me because he didn’t have the time to dedicate to two dogs.
Plus, he knew I was heartbroken by the recent death of my old pal Sadie about six weeks earlier.
Bandit was 14 weeks old when I took her home for the first time. It was late at night, and all three kids stayed up because they knew I was coming home with a surprise around midnight.
The girls, then 8 and 2, loved Bandit immediately. The boy, 4, was sad because she wasn’t a toy. He was so mad that he wanted to change the name given by Nick to Cat Poop.
Grady quickly learned to love Bandit, though, and the feeling was clearly immediately mutual. Bandit loved everyone in the family, but she was obsessed with me.
Before I took her home, Nick told me I would be blown away by how quickly Bandit would get attached to me. I grew up with dogs, and I had a special bond with each of them. So, I figured I already knew what Nick meant.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
The love from Bandit was like nothing I have ever seen before. She was my dog, and she followed me everywhere I went.
If I was sitting at my computer, Bandit was at my feet. If I was on the coach, she was lying nearby. If I was in the bathroom, so was Bandit.
When she was 4, my oldest daughter decided she wanted a lapdog. Her reasoning was that Bandit was too dedicated to me. She wanted a dog who had that much devotion to her.
So, in August of 2016, we took the family to Lagoon for a short vacation. Then we swung down to Sandy, Utah to pick up Boogie, a Shih Tzu/Lhasa Apso my daughter fell in love with over a picture on the internet.
We had to take Bandit to Logan’s Run outside Anaconda for five days as we made the trip. When I went to pick her up, the worker there told me that Bandit just moped around for five days.
Then, he opened a door to let Bandit into the room, an she started jumping all over me like Dino attacking Fred Flintstone after work. She must have thought that she would never see me again.
The guy in charge of the kennel told me he never saw a dog love his owner so much.
Bandit went running with me on the first morning after I took her home, and she loved it. We went running all the time. She helped me train for two marathons.
When we weren’t running, we were walking around Big Butte. She would often stray so far away from me that I would sit on top of the mountain and wait for her to catch up with me.
Sometimes I would have to wait for an hour.
When Boogie started going with us for walks, though, Bandit started to stay close by. I think she was looking out for the little guy.
It is hard to imagine another dog putting up with Boogie, a classic little dog who thinks he runs the house. He would often chase Bandit to her bed so he could try to get all the attention.
But Bandit didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Instead of eating Boogie, she just put up with him.
One time Bandit accidentally caught a bird, and she immediately dropped it out of her mouth. She wanted to look at it, not kill it.
When she finally got face to face with her old nemesis — the cat across the street — she just looked, sniffed and wagged her tail as the cat arched its back and got ready to strike.
Bandit never even thought about striking.
I didn’t know it was going to be Bandit’s last walk when we went around Big Butte on Sunday, Nov. 19. Bandit was happy, and she seemed healthy. Sure, she wasn’t as fast as she used to be, and she needed help in and out of the cab of my truck, but she still chased birds and squirrels as we made our way around the mountain.
She was happy as we came home, and she slept in her bed right next to me like she always did.
The next morning, though, she couldn’t get up. She peed right where she was lying on the floor.
We knew what that meant.
I didn’t want Bandit to suffer, so I carried her to the truck to take her to Highlands Veterinary Hospital. The two youngest kids were at school, and the oldest was at the University of Montana in Missoula.
We called our daughter to tell her we had to put Bandit down, and we had to do it right away. She cried and protested because she wanted to come home in time to say goodbye.
When Bandit heard Delaney’s voice, she stood up. It was almost as if she said she wanted to say goodbye, too.

So, we took Bandit home for a while. She tried to rally, but she couldn’t walk. I laid down on the floor for hours, petting her and talking to her. Boogie seemed to know something was up, and he let her have all the attention.
Delaney came home, and we took Bandit back down to the vet that afternoon. The rest of the family met us there, and we all got down on the floor with Bandit. She crossed the bridge with the family members she loved so much all petting her.
A few seconds before she fell asleep for the final time, Bandit reached her head up and licked me on the face.
It was peaceful and beautiful. But it was also heartbreaking.
I’ve had to put dogs down before, and it always hurts. This time, though, it seems worse. Bandit is the best dog I have ever even heard of. I worked mostly form home all of her life, and I spent more time with her than any person.
It is no stretch to say that I will miss her for the rest of my life.
People have told me that she will live forever in my heart, and that is true. I can feel her in there now. She is holding all the broken pieces together.
The pain of losing her is so real. It is a pain that we sign up for when we welcome a dog into our lives. We know one day our heart will ache, but we know it will be worth it.
While I might be the saddest guy in town today, for 4,217 days Bandit made sure I was the happiest. So, like in “Maggie’s Song” by Chris Stapleton, I told Bandit she was a good dog, and I told her goodbye.
I also told her thank you for all the joy she brought to all of our lives.
I just hope I made her life half as happy as she always made me when she welcomed me home.
— 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. 149: Tim Norbeck

Tim Norbeck is the former principal at Butte Central Catholic High School and superintendent at Jefferson High School in Boulder.
He grew up on La Platte Street in Centerville and played football at Butte Central and Carroll College. He then went into the education business for 35 years. He currently works for Youth Dynamics in Butte, where he tries to make life better for the children of our community.
Earlier today, we met at the Coaches Corner at Metals Sports Bar & Grill for this fun conversation and lunch.
Listen in as Tim talks about growing up in Centerville, which we all know is God’s country. Listen to him talk about playing against Butte High in that classic overtime football game of 1981 and his days playing for Bob Petrino at Carroll College.
Listen in to hear Tim talk about education and why he loved that profession. Listen to hear the nickname for his wife that he stole from Coach Petrino.
If nothing else, it is worth listening to this podcast just to hear that nickname.
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Podcast No. 148: Chris Opie

Chris Opie is a legend at Butte High and Montana Tech. While he was an outstanding athlete on the football field, many of Opie’s legendary stories occurred off the field.
Coach Bob Green says “Most fights are won or lost because one of the participants was unaware of the starting time. Chris Opie was always aware of the starting time.”
Of course, many of the stories you heard about Opie weren’t true. At least they weren’t 100 percent true. He kind of turned into an urban legend.
Opie was a former Webster-Garfield Bobcat and Kennedy Crusader before he played football and wrestled at Butte High School. He started on the defensive line for Butte High’s 1991 Class AA State championship football team. He later played for the 1996 Montana Tech Orediggers, who advanced to the NAIA nation championship game.
Today, Opie lives and works in the Salt Lake City area. He is in town this week for Thanksgiving. So, we met inside the Vault at the Metals Sports Bar & Grill on Black Friday for a fun conversation.
His old high school and college teammate Darrel Storey chimed in with a few stories in this podcast, too.
Someday soon, Darrell will be a guest for a full interview.
Listen in to this podcast to hear Opie tell his side of some of the legendary Opie stories. Listen in as he talks about the 1991 Bulldogs and 1996 Orediggers.
Listen in to hear him tell how he used to have fun at Coach Bob Green’s expense, and hear how much respect he still has for his former coach — along with his Butte High coaches Jon McElroy and Jim Street.
Listen in to hear Opie talk about being the first boy at Kennedy Elementary with a rat tail.













