Roger Kettle

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A Scotsman walks into a bar…

Lay of the Land: A series of essays on the spirit of Montana
It was an evening in late May 1995. Around midnight, I got back to my room at the Northern Hotel in Billings and picked up the phone. I was desperate to talk to my wife, Mary, who was back home in Scotland, where it was 7 in the morning. The conversation went roughly as follows: (more…) Continue Reading →

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