Dreams my Grandfather Built

Alright, let’s get real. Let’s get serious. Let’s put it all out there. In all of my previous blog entries, I have written about some of the luxury resorts and hotels I have had the pleasure of getting to stay at with my travel business. But, I’m about to dig deeper here. Everyone that knows me well, knows that I am on a mission to reclaim Frontier Town for the Quigley family, as well as the people of Montana, and world for that matter. This is a mission that I am deeply, deeply passionate about. This is my family legacy and MY story.

For those of you that don’t know me or my family, let me bring you up to speed: The Quigley family were among the first pioneers of Montana. My ancestors settled in 1863, 26 years before the territory was made a state. My grandfather was John R. Quigley, or known as “the crazy cowboy” by some early Helenian’s. Starting in the late 1940’s, he built a pioneer blockaded fort city to honor our forefathers and ancestors, on some impossible 40+ acres up top of the Continental Divide, located 15 miles out of Helena, Montana. Built completely in the pioneer fashion, all the way down to the wooden nails, Frontier Town was a grand example of western American folk art and was a deeply beloved place by everyone who had the opportunity to visit while the Quigley family was still in control of the property.

I grew up living at Frontier Town, thinking I was the Frontier Princess. Which, in many ways I guess I was. I had no idea that the moment in time I was living in would be such a cherished and priceless time in my life, and that 25+ years later I would be absolutely begging for the opportunity to have it back.

August 17^th 2009, Lander, Wyoming – on an afternoon off, I hiked down to the Popo Agie River’s edge to journal in my diary and to reflect on life. At the time I was considering expanding my travel business to include on-site wedding coordinating in Lander. I was brainstorming about locations in the area for ceremonies and receptions, when it hit me like a bolt of lightning. A wall of bricks. My Oprah “ahhh-haaa moment”. My grandfather had already built the absolute perfect venue. My mission had started.

Although Frontier Town was currently privately owned and we lived 465 miles away, I swung into action. I put together a 40 page 12X12 coffee table book full of pictures, the history of Frontier Town, my family story and my mission. I wanted to have something I could give to someone (or a potential investor) that had no idea about Frontier Town or my family,  and by the end of reading it would understand what my mission is and would want to help.

 

Many of you have and will ask: Well, why ISN’T Frontier Town in your family still? The truth is – there is a long and ugly story that goes along with it. A story that EVERYONE thinks they know, but really have NO idea about. And frankly – that is a whole other blog. At this point we have to accept what is, and realize that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps if I grew up entitled to Frontier Town, I wouldn’t have nearly the level of respect or vision to really pour myself into the project. I truly feel like every path in life that I’ve been down thus far– is ultimately leading me back home, to Frontier Town.

Along with a copy of the book, and a long heartfelt letter, I sent a package off to the current owners for Christmas 2009. I told them about my wish, and the hope that they will be willing to sell to me.  A couple of weeks later I received a thank you note for the book, but also the response that the family was not, and would not be interested in selling Frontier Town.  Not to be discouraged (ever), shortly after I decided to start a Facebook page to get the word out there about my mission. I gained a ton of support immediately, and the buzz was on.  Three and a half years later we are at 4,000 “likes” and people who support my dream.

In 2012 my husband took a huge chance for me. For MY dream. This man has seen me pour buckets of tears over Frontier Town and this “journey” of mine. He believes in me and my vision and supports me so much that he moved nine hours away from all of his family, and took a very significant pay cut to move me home to Helena and put me in the position to be able to chase my dreams. I tend to float high above the clouds – he is my anchor to earth, my best sounding board and advisor, and best, best friend and I am so thankful to have him in my life.

 I realize by me shouting my dreams to the heavens and to everyone, I walk a very fine line of stepping on the current owners toes and rocking back and forth on them. I want to be VERY clear in letting everyone know that The Battershell family is a wonderful family, and they purchased Frontier Town fair and square.  I am SO appreciative of everything they have done for Frontier Town. If it wasn’t for them, Frontier Town would be in ruins. I cannot emphasize enough how thankful I am to them, and for them. So, I will not tolerate any negative things being said about them here or anywhere. They have made it clear that they don’t look to be moving anytime soon and I understand. But, I’m still going to believe in my dream and my vision that one day that will change. And in the meanwhile I’m going to tell everyone I know what I believe my mission is. It’s my dream. And perhaps I’m just as crazy, if not crazier than my grandfather.

Entrepreneurs are frequently described as not having the fear to take chances. I think it is because in our head, if we are passionate about something - it’s not going to be a failure. We don’t live our life in fear of failure or the "what if's". We’re not scared of taking a serious face plant. If you pick yourself up and try it again, eventually you’ll figure it out. It's along the lines of “what if I fall?" “Oh but my darling, what if you fly?” In the case of my family reclaiming Frontier Town, and absolutely believing in and painting my mind’s eye and continued vision of Frontier Town… I’m more like “get out of my airspace”.

After the initial request and denial in 2009, I waited two years before I sent another two page long, deeply impassioned letter reiterating my desires. I hadn’t made a move again until last week, another two and half years after my last contact. On Wednesday I met with The Montana Historical Society and we discussed the idea of doing a Frontier Town public showcase. An occasion for people across the state to come together and reminisce about the good ‘ol days;  An opportunity to drum up old antiques and memorabilia that were auctioned off and collected; To hear stories of days gone by, and relive some golden memories.  

With that on my heels, and flowers in hand, I drove directly over to Tom Battershell’s home. I hadn’t seen Tom Battershell in nine years, since our wedding. His son Jeff and his wife are the ones who actually reside up at Frontier Town, but Tom is the family patriarch. Someone who knew my grandfather and was tremendously successful in his own construction career. I was terrified. There could be a good chance he could tell me where
to go and how to get there. But he did not. After shaking like a leaf with my flowers in hand and telling him “it took a lot of guts for me to come over here. Please may I have a few moments of your time”, he sighed and agreed to have me in. Offering me coffee and having his lovely wife sit down with us, we enjoyed an hour of good conversation and a couple of laughs. Obviously they knew what I was gunning for, and I had a few opportunities to again express my deep wishes to reclaim Frontier Town. They were nothing but kind, and lovely to me, but did not sugar coat the fact that living at Frontier Town is Jeff’s dream come true, and that he is the one that needs to be convinced. I left hugging them both and thanking them for everything they have done for Frontier Town and for the sincere kindness they had just shown me.

So, that’s where I am at this current moment. I’m appreciative of my life and family. I’m thankful and positive about the future. I’m always hopeful.  I’m stubborn and hell bent. I’m shouting it loud. I’m not taking “no” for an answer. I believe in the power of my dreams and I see the signs everywhere.  I’m not blind in this journey. My vision is crystal clear and my eyes are wide open. I’m ready.