Evelyn King on the “Intriguing” Gibbons Family
Evelyn King on the “Intriguing” Gibbons Family
The Missoulian columnist, Evelyn King, wrote a series of columns in 1998 about the Gibbons family. Anyone from Missoula during that era surely remembers them. As always, Evelyn had an unfailing way of handling her topics in a graceful, sincere way.
Gibbons remind us: Don’t judge a book . . .
Remember the Gibbons family? Or the Gibbons brothers?
First, there were five. Three men and two women. Mother, daughter and sons. They were a daily sight on the streets of Missoula, walking single file on Higgins Avenue as though playing follow the leader. Mother was the leader, tagged by her daughter, then, the smallest son, one medium size and finally the youngest – a great, hulking fellow named “Babe.” He might have stepped right out of the “Munsters.” (Babe always reminded me of “Boo” Radley, the scary character from “To Kill a Mocking Bird.”)
The fleeting memory of the Gibbons flashed through my mind the other day when a huge, rather rough appearing panhandler asked for some money to catch a bus. He was polite. Not demanding and I gave him change – especially after he pointed to the woman at his side who appeared to be nine months along and holding.
His request was more reasonable than one a few weeks ago. The guy wanted money to catch a cab to visit his attorney on the south side.
The Gibbons clan were once among some of the few town characters as much a part of Missoula as Higgins Bridge. They may have been considered street people in today’s world. Although they spent a great deal of time on the streets, they also always had a small house for shelter.
My mom would have classified them as “not quite right.” Today’s description might be “developmentally disabled.” (The Gibbons family were more right and able than many folks in today’s world.)
They were not panhandlers. The “boys” did odd jobs all over the city – yard work, snow shoveling. Evidently Mama Gibbons was the family treasurer. Occasionally on a warm summer day, the Gibbons brood waited outside Hansen’s Ice Cream on South Higgins while mama bought ones all around.
Since they looked and acted somewhat “different” many residents were wary, especially of the younger, massive, Babe.
Often when a crime had been committed, the Gibbons boys were rounded up for questioning. Invariably, they were innocent.
When the mother died, the sister took over as leader of the group. They continued to troop around town single file.
When Sis left, the smallest brother assumed the role of leader. He was the only one of the trio who could read. Often he stopped by the Missoulian when it was located on North Higgins and asked to “borrow” the daily newspaper. Then he sat on the front steps and read to his brothers.
The years rolled on. The trio were living in a small, rather primitive house. Some of the “do good” neighbors got the idea they should be “taken care of.”
The “boys” were hustled off to Warm Springs. More time passed. Only two returned to Missoula.
Finally, there was one. Babe. The last of his family wandered the streets alone. Somewhat raggedy but always clean. Smooth shaven. Polite. Forever alone. He had a tiny room somewhere on Alder. One day he came to the paper and advertised for a roommate. He didn’t get one. People avoided him. All he wanted was company.
Eventually he went to a nursing home – where he was no doubt happy, since he finally had people to talk to.
Many folks (mostly female) seem to fear rough appearing people (mostly male). I’ve never felt threatened by this type. Instead, it has been my experience some normal appearing “smoothies” are more to feared.
There are folks who won’t walk the river because of transients. We’ve met many street people on our walks by the river and about town and never had an uncomfortable experience. Maybe it’s just luck – but more likely, because folks are treated “in kind.” We greet everyone.
As we walked across Van Buren Street Bridge one balmy spring morning, a scruffy, bearded fellow was lounging near the end of the bridge, looking at a newspaper. I was surprised when he not only spoke, but called me by my name.
“Are you a university student?” I asked.
“No, I’m just a bum, he replied with a grin. “I’ve been reading you for years. Don’t you think bums can read?”
The above article from Evelyn King’s column appeared in The Missoulian on April 26, 1998.
On June 7, 1998, Evelyn’s column again addressed the Gibbons family, this time with a photograph also:
Of the Gibbons brothers, and ‘Lucky Lady’
The column about the Gibbons brothers triggered memories – not only about the “fearsome” foursome but also those long days ago when the Garden City (and you and I) were much younger.
There were phone calls and notes both from Missoula and other places from folks who recalled, with feelings of nostalgia, the daily parade of the Gibbons family and other characters and events around town. This was a time when Missoula was much smaller, and although not the size of the fictional “Mayberry,” still small enough for most folks to be acquainted.
One of the respondents was Arnold Helding, a former resident and one time owner of Woods Second Hand Store on West Alder. He is retired and lives with his wife Becky, near Arlee. He sent the accompanying photo.
“The picture was taken with my camera. I didn’t take it,” Arnold said.
Photography has been his hobby for many years – both taking the pictures and developing them in his home dark room.
“I always wanted to get a picture of the brothers following each other – never had the chance,” Arnold said.
Alder Street, in the vicinity of Woods store and Al’s Bar, was a favorite hand-out for town characters. One day the late Bud Lamoreux rushed into the store and said”
“Now’s your chance! The Gibbons boys are all out front!”
Arnold was busy at the time. He handed Bud the camera. The classic photo is the result.
No one seems to remember their names. “Babe,” the largest and youngest, is on the far right. Next to him is the one who could read and always “borrowed” the Missoulian.
Another reader said she had heard the sister married and had children who still resided in Missoula. Of course there were many rumors about this unusual family. If anyone out there in circulation land has further information we would appreciate hearing.
One story leads to another. After receiving the photo, a letter came from Linda Helding Schure telling a fascinating tale concerning her Dad, Arnold, who was a fighter pilot in World War II.
“One day in 1944, a P-38 pilot named Leroy ‘Lear’ Lutz was shot down over Mardeuil, France. A small boy from the French town of nearby Epernay, Andre Mathy, witnessed the fighter plane as pilot Lutz steered the plane away from the village, stayed with the plane and saved the lives of the local citizens.
“The Germans, who found his remains, recognized Lutz’s valor and buried him with full military honors. The French villages sneaked flowers to his grave every day. Even now, Lear Lutz is a hero in Mardeuil.
“That little boy, hiding in the bushes, ran to the crash site and cut out the nose art of the P-38 fighter, the ‘Lucky Lady.’ For years he tracked the Lutz family to give them this memoir of their brave family member.”
The letter continues:
“Lucky Lady actually belonged to another pilot from Missoula and was on loan to pilot Lutz. She was assigned to Arnold Helding and transported overseas to serve the European War Theater out of Wattersham, England.
“Arnold grew up in Missoula and flew as one of the original pilots for the 8th Army Air Force, 434th Squadron. When he received his new P-38 airplane he asked the Squadron artist Fred Hayner (‘Hayner the Painter’) to paint a lucky lady on the nose.
“Arnold’s oldest brother, John Helding, had sent him a cocktail napkin from Paris, France. The graphic was of a bikini-clad figure holding a wrench in one hand and a lucky 4-leaf-clover in the other. She had a lucky horshoe in her hair and wore lucky dice for earrings. Her bikini bra was a set of lucky eight balls.
“Arnold flew the ‘Lucky Lady’ until the day Lutz crashed. In retrospect Arnold wishes he had named her ‘Miss Oula’ after his home town.”
After receiving the story, I had a few questions, so called Arnold. He learned of it through an old “flying buddy” who noticed the account in a fighter pilot magazine. Arnold got in touch with the Lutz family, who live in Nebraska. He also sent them the original napkin with the figure of ‘Lucky Lady.’
“We were dive bombing a bridge that day when she went down,” the former pilot said.
Arnold flew 67 missions before his tour of duty ended and came home unscathed.
“Flying is the greatest sport in the world but you’ve got to be lucky,” he declared.
The day someone else was flying his airplane was the luckiest day of all.
The photo accompanying Evelyn King’s column included four men, not three. There are no females in this photograph.
*[Arnold Helding was profiled in a Missoulian article on Jan. 14, 2007. See the link below]
Again on June 21, Evelyn’s column had more commentary regarding the Gibbons family:
Gibbons Spark Memories
Rufus, Leonard, Pete or “Hoot,” Merton or “Babe” – left to right? Right to left? No matter. The Gibbons brothers still parade in the distant memories of many Missoula residents.
The photo of the four fellows published recently brought numerous responses. Some recollections true, and others probably based on rumor. For sure, all were in agreement on a couple of things – they were all hard workers and always polite.
Other comments: they were a very close family who were always supporting and cared for one another. The sister’s name was “Abbie” and not “Annie.”
Donna Shaffer writes: “Your article and pictures stimulated a lot of conversation in this household, as it did in many others.
“The Gibbons were customers at our store (Shaffers Market) on the North Side in their later years. Rufus was always neat, clean and could carry on a conversation. Someone asked me if I was afraid of “Babe.” I said “No, I think he is afraid of me (and all women).”
“Roy Burditt said Leonard went to Butte with him for their Army physicals.”
Merle Harding said they worked for his grandfather Ben “Shorty” Harding.
“My granddad had a trail mower and tractor and cut hay around the area – smaller jobs such as at the Rainbow Stables or near the Avalon Skating Rink. When he needed help, he got the Gibbons brothers. They were always dependable.”
Jack Seitz also recalled the brothers worked for his Dad doing odd jobs such as digging cesspools and other construction chores.
“One time they were standing in a line holding up a section of artificial brick while my dad nailed it,” Seitz said. “After it was in place, he told them to let go. Babe at the end of the wall continued to hold. Dad checked and found he had fallen asleep.”
Leonard, who served in the Army, was proud of his military service. The story goes that after he was discharged he wore the uniform until it was in tatters and then continued to get other items of army garments from the Salvation Army.
An intriguing story came from Bob Harrington of Florence.
“They lived just down the street from us on Davidson, which is now Strand. They were the most polite people I have ever met. There was a sister, Annie. They also had a brother, who was a lawyer in California.
“The father was from overseas and (said to be) from a Royalty family. He came over here to ride for the Pony Express. The family disowned him when he married an Indian woman.
“They always came to our house and bought a chicken for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Hazel Lawrence also remembers: “When I was a girl we lived in Daly Addition. It was 1939 and I had gone to a dance at the Welcoma Club. A big, tall fellow asked me to dance. He was polite and a nice kid. I thought he was just a poor, green farm boy and I danced with him. After that all the boys danced with me!” The “farm boy” was Babe.
She said the mother often stopped by their house on the way to town and always said her sons were “good” boys.
Hazel, in later years, was a waitress in various places around town, including the Atlantic Hotel café on North Higgins.
“The cook used to save leftover soup for the Gibbons,” she recalled. “She wasn’t s’posed to do that but figured it was better to give it to someone who was hungry than toss it out.”
Although the Gibbons brothers didn’t choose to fight they were often challenged.
“But they didn’t pick on Rufus – he could clean their clocks,” she declared.
John Walden believes one of the Gibbons brothers was his uncle. He said one named Melvin or Merton married his mother’s sister in the early days and moved to Washington. He also heard the “boys” were born near Arlee and the family later moved to Missoula. They attended St. Francis Grade School.
Donna Shaffer also poses the question:
“Did they really go to the depot every day to meet their father or brother who left and never came back? Or was that a myth?”
She concludes with: “They were certainly an interesting part of Missoula’s history which wasn’t all graduations, schools and Sunday Socials.”
Thanks, folks, for sharing your memories.