My family is fortunate enough to have a cabin on Flathead Lake. We share the place with my best friend’s family, and my friend and I frequently enjoy a morning cup of coffee on the dock where we chit chat about various things middle-aged women like to talk about – husbands, teenagers, our profession. We value our time together, as do our families, and we are grateful to have the opportunity to share quality time on the shores of the Flathead. When the Elmo II Fire started, my family boated down the bay to see what the fuss was. We saw the air attack, and when we boated back to our cabin later that evening, we wondered how close the fire might get to us. We spent that weekend monitoring the fire’s growth, recognizing that the wind was pushing the fire every-which-a-way, including our direction. We activated some precautionary measures; my late husband was a Hot Shot for the Forest Service, and while I am sure he never thought I paid attention to his words, it turns out I did and recalled all the information he had about structure protection. I began ordering my husband around and setting up the roof and perimeter sprinklers. I evaluated the “P-pines,” looking at where they might fall or blow up should an ember take hold. I looked at the structures attached to our cabin- primarily the deck and figured that if one of the ponderosas fell, it might land on the deck, and we should get the chainsaw ready to cut off the deck if necessary. Then we looked around the interior of the cabin. It’s a fantastic place, but it’s generally full of knick-knacks my husband has collected over the years and have a value of (at best) ten bucks. I have a rocking chair my late father-in-law built me when my first son was born and my grandmother’s rocking chair. Some carvings my dad made. But that’s it. Out of all the “stuff” we had, the only things that mattered fit in the back of a pick-up truck with room left over.
So that got me thinking, what is it about the cabin that brings me such joy? Truth be told, I’m afraid of water. I don’t wade and definitely don’t swim. The cabin might reflect a measure of financial success, but that’s not it either. The Elmo II Fire taught me that the joy of the place is the family memories and that it reflects the strength of a friendship I have had for 25 years. While I am grateful we didn’t suffer the loss of the structure, I am equally thankful to have gained invaluable perspective.
Tammi Fisher is an attorney, former mayor of Kalispell and host of the Montana Values Podcast.