Distinctly Montana Magazine

29 w w w. d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m W ERE YOU THERE? Did you, too, lose your sight (and mind) that night in Red Lodge, a half century ago? Time flies. Let it be known and remembered that 50 years ago, July 4, 1975, the town of Red Lodge erupted and went ballis- tic. Bonkers. Off its rocker. That night, two parties collided—hundreds of peo- ple, young and old. Anger lit up into insanity and the scene exploded into madness. It was a July 4th unlike any other in the annals of Red Lodge lore. A spirited birthday celebration that brought many to tears, including me. As I recall, the day started like this: shortly before noon, some buddies and I were sidled up in the Blue Rib- bon waiting for the parade to start. I was involved with a tall Bloody Mary, feeling rough from the night before. A stocky man, short in size, long in years, smelling of Ancient Age, leaned toward me and said, "Want to leg wrestle?" To confirm what I heard, I repeated his query. He nodded. "For a drink," he said. One end of his mouth dipped in a lopsided grin. His eyes rolled back and he wobbled and it appeared he might fall to the floor. I ac- cepted the challenge. We shook on it. His hand was big and leathery, but lifeless. Like an old catcher's mitt. Tables and chairs were shoved aside and we flopped down next to each other on the floor. The match com- menced. To my surprise, the gent got fast leverage on me. His thick legs were bullish and in less than eight sec- onds I was flipped over. He quickly rose to his feet and stepped to the bar, wobbling not. Chagrined, I paid up, knowing I'd been had. I knew then it would be an interesting day. The parade I hardly recall and the rodeo that followed was like all Red Lodge rodeos. Every- one crowded in close, hooting and hollering, Red Lodge Mountain peer- ing over to watch the action. Someone snuck a keg into the stands. The action was fierce and lively. Cowboys flew in from Cody to ride, then flew off to Liv- ingston for another rodeo go-round. Afterwards, the arena emptied and like steers cut loose we tramped into town in a cloud of dust to further celebrate our country's birth. It wasn't long before the scene turned raucous. Revelers hooted and danced and carried on in various stages of in- ebriation. Bar hounds dragged bar- stools outside. Cackling fools in straw cowboy hats shot bottle rockets from rooftops. Main Street was not closed. Cars and trucks cruised through, folks yelling, honking, blasting country rock — Marshall Tucker, New Riders, Asleep at the Wheel. As the day finished its drink, the evening transformed into a golden haze, a perfect buzz of true enlightenment where all is good and you understand everything and your joy is so intense your cheeks hurt from smiling. You wish you could stop time. But, naturally, the sun ran down, as did the fuse on the party. A resounding crash was heard as a guy got bucked through a store window. That sparked more disorder and before long other windows were fractured. Fears of the town burning down flew like embers to the VFW, where older townsfolk were whooping it up at their own hulla- baloo. The old party freaked upon learning of the young par- ty. Phone lines heated up. Decisions were made. Law enforcement was alerted and the mayor called for the streets, where hundreds were afoot, to be cleared. R Lodge July 4 Br 1975 TOWN LEADERS HAD BROUGHT TEAR GAS TO AMERICA'S BIRTHDAY PARTY. It did not go or we. by TOM VANDEL R Lodge July 4 Br 1975 R Lodge July 4 Br 1975

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