Let’s be civil. The Flathead Beacon encourages vigorous discussion and lively debate, but we will delete comments that attack other readers, make accusations we can’t verify, stray too far off topic, criticize local businesses (call them if you have a problem), convict someone of a crime, use profanity or are simply judged to be in bad taste. We don’t always have someone moderating comments, so we ask for your help: If you see a comment that violates these ground rules, or you simply deem it offensive, please e-mail editor [at] flatheadbeacon.com. The views expressed in the comments section do not reflect those of the Beacon.
By pahrumppete on 11-09-09
Yep, Warren—and then this guy came out of Tenth Mountain Division, after finishing training at Pando Junction, Colorado and getting to help conquer Mt. Belvedere in Italy, then the army brass was humiliated the Mountain Goats did one night in pitch dark, what they had been unable to do in months—so the Mountain Goats were put ashore in France and allowed to slog across the plains of France, never seeing another mountain.
And then this dead broke photographer with an Army Surplus 16 mm. movie camera and a bunch of refrigerated surplus film started making his ski movies and hiring school gyms and church basements, Armories, Legion and VFW halls or maybe even some pool halls to set up a projector and show his movies—to find that tossing in wise-ass comments about what he was showing got more people to pay $1.00 to see his movies about skiing.
And he slept in his surplus sleeping bags on the living room floors of most of his Mountain Goat buddies across the country. Probably never rented a room at Aspen or in Denver or Salt Lake or Truckee or Reno or Missoula or a whole lot of places. Eventually had a regular schedule where his movies were shown almost year round. Was even getting better, suckering some pretty good skiiers into doing things they would never have considered, except Ol’ Warren was so special.
And this humorous, balding tall guy wandered around for about 50 years, until he turned his movie collection and the now-huge company over to his sons. So he could write a newspaper blog.
Some us still remember those tiny, jam packed places where he showed his movies—and places like the HUGE auditorium back in 1958/59 where he packed ‘em in in Philadelphia.
Amazing—and Ol’ Warren is still so special.
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Comments on: The Good Old Days Were Just That
Let’s be civil. The Flathead Beacon encourages vigorous discussion and lively debate, but we will delete comments that attack other readers, make accusations we can’t verify, stray too far off topic, criticize local businesses (call them if you have a problem), convict someone of a crime, use profanity or are simply judged to be in bad taste. We don’t always have someone moderating comments, so we ask for your help: If you see a comment that violates these ground rules, or you simply deem it offensive, please e-mail editor [at] flatheadbeacon.com. The views expressed in the comments section do not reflect those of the Beacon.
By pahrumppete on 11-09-09
Yep, Warren—and then this guy came out of Tenth Mountain Division, after finishing training at Pando Junction, Colorado and getting to help conquer Mt. Belvedere in Italy, then the army brass was humiliated the Mountain Goats did one night in pitch dark, what they had been unable to do in months—so the Mountain Goats were put ashore in France and allowed to slog across the plains of France, never seeing another mountain.
And then this dead broke photographer with an Army Surplus 16 mm. movie camera and a bunch of refrigerated surplus film started making his ski movies and hiring school gyms and church basements, Armories, Legion and VFW halls or maybe even some pool halls to set up a projector and show his movies—to find that tossing in wise-ass comments about what he was showing got more people to pay $1.00 to see his movies about skiing.
And he slept in his surplus sleeping bags on the living room floors of most of his Mountain Goat buddies across the country. Probably never rented a room at Aspen or in Denver or Salt Lake or Truckee or Reno or Missoula or a whole lot of places. Eventually had a regular schedule where his movies were shown almost year round. Was even getting better, suckering some pretty good skiiers into doing things they would never have considered, except Ol’ Warren was so special.
And this humorous, balding tall guy wandered around for about 50 years, until he turned his movie collection and the now-huge company over to his sons. So he could write a newspaper blog.
Some us still remember those tiny, jam packed places where he showed his movies—and places like the HUGE auditorium back in 1958/59 where he packed ‘em in in Philadelphia.
Amazing—and Ol’ Warren is still so special.