A Once-Famous Idaho Artist Undergoes a Revival By Teddy Khteian-Keeton Photos from The Life and Art of Archie Teater, by Lester D. Taylor Before the death in 1981 of Patricia Teater, wife of the late Idaho artist Archie
My friend Diane Mercer was a little bit of a thing, a petite bundle of energy and know-how, as busy as a hummingbird. From the time she took up residence in my hometown of Priest River in 1986 until she died twenty-eight years later, the projects and activities she took on for the betterment of the community, while also operating a business of her own, were truly amazing. Continue reading
While working recently on a book about the history of cinema in Montana, I came across Polly Bemis, a Chinese-American pioneer who lived in Idaho in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. Continue reading
A few summers ago, I rented an SUV and made arrangements to spend five days in Idaho on a work assignment. The second-to-last stop on my trip would be with Jerry Van Amburg, and after a couple of enthusiastic calls between us, I got the niggling feeling that his story would make the whole trip. Continue reading
As it happened, I was working as an assistant at the public library in Cocoa, Florida, the summer of 1961 when, on the morning of July 2, Ernest Hemingway took up his prized shotgun in Ketchum and, as a buddy informed me, “blew his head off.” Continue reading
We met through a mutual friend in Kamiah. He said his name was Bear Claw. He was a mountain man, dressed in brain-tanned buckskin clothes that he made and a round-brimmed hat to withstand the wet weather as well as for shade during warmer days. Continue reading
My friend Regina and I hang back a bit from Owyhee County rancher Paul Nettleton and his hands. As long-time endurance riders, we don’t quite fit in with the ranching crowd: we’re riding Arabians, and our horses wear endurance saddles. Continue reading
On a bright afternoon in a warmer-than-normal March, from the driveway of John and Linda Wolfe’s house on the hillside above Pocatello, I see the sun glinting on the remains of mountain snowbanks which, in wetter years, would still cover the canyons.
Around the house, decorated flowerpots and painted metal sculptures gleam and spin. Inside, Linda and John greet me warmly, as do their dogs, Rosie, Abby, and Buster. My visit to these long-standing friends is not completely social. I have come to discuss a book illustration project with Linda, an artist I have worked with for more than thirty years. Continue reading
I spotted the creeping car before it pulled into our farm driveway. A pleasant-looking young woman slowly climbed out, looked at my pinto mare grazing in the pasture, and started up the walk. On that summer day in 1952, I had no idea that this young woman would change my life forever.
“My name is Ina Hadam,” she said when I answered the door. “You rode in the Jerome Rodeo Parade last week, didn’t you?”
Perplexed, I nodded.
“I recognized your horse. I’d like to start a girls’ 4-H horse club. Would you be interested in participating?”
Would I! My face must have revealed my excitement, because she grinned. Continue reading
I grew up in a non-dancing family. Our church didn’t allow it back then, and after I moved to Grangeville, I was a little afraid to sign up my oldest daughter, Avery, for dance class.
Probably only a few non-dancers would know the strange reaction I had upon entering a dance class for the first time. It was like walking into a hall where my hearing was muted and even my vision of the students was blurry.
By the time my daughter Hailey was old enough to take dance, I felt more familiar with the experience. Now a high school freshman, Hailey began dancing in preschool, which was the first time I met Shirley Wilson Sears. Right away, I knew she meant business. Continue reading
