"We were told coal would save us, the same year we learned about boom-and-bust economics in our social studies textbooks." College-bound Lindsey Appell couldn't wait to leave Roundup, Montana for Missoula, but soon she began to feel "the pull back to the prairie. The scent of wet sagebrush sends a shiver of longing through me now...There are no true sunsets in a bowl of mountains. No blood-orange autumn skies, casting harsh shadows across grizzled ponderosa hills and sandstone crags."
Nancy Hunter's poem, "North of Roundup, 1952" reflects the intertwined nature of beauty and harshness in a small prairie town:
"Others leave for good: Eleanor, round-faced
and yellow-haired,
who rests her elbows on Mom's enameled table and listens
till a new job comes up near Lewistown.
And there's the hired man, Burt, who jokes
at sullen mealtimes.
Says her laughter reminds him of clouds,
the way they swirl high and graceful, and he means it.
He moves on..."
(Broadcast: "Reflections West," 12/31/14. Listen weekly on the radio, Wednesdays at 3:00 p.m.)