by betsy cohen
photos by linda thompson

The mood in the car driving back to the Missoulian was sober, having just watched loved ones say goodbye to members of the Montana National Guard at Missoula International Airport in January 2010. During a welcome home event on a Sunday nearly a year later, we saw the couple in this photo happily reunited.

For six years, Missoulian photographer Linda Thompson and I took “Sunday drives” to find stories for the Monday newspaper.

It was a memorable time, but like most good things, our Sunday partnership came to an end recently when Linda packed up her family and moved to Sweden to attend graduate school.

Unlike most of the working world, Sunday was not our day of rest. It was, in fact, the first day of our work week – our Monday.

Together, we were the only two members of the reporting staff to work the same odd shift – Sunday through Thursday.

And Sundays were special.

With no one else in the newsroom, the success of the Monday paper relied upon the two of us producing a photo-story package to anchor the front page.

The pressure was, at times, intense: Stories we planned didn’t always happen, or a source changed the appointed day and time for an interview at the last minute. Often, there was just not a lot happening on Sundays in Missoula, which made finding something to cover a challenge, especially when a story did fall through.

And then there was the occasional Sunday that exploded with so much breaking news, getting it all reported and photographed before press time was a minor miracle.

This past June 12 was one such Sunday.

The day started out calmly enough, with an assignment to report on the YWCA’s Secret Seconds remodel, and to write and photograph a story on the ongoing Clark Fork River flooding. Along with her front-page assignments, Linda also had a sports photo to take at a folf tournament.

Working on Sundays means covering a multitude of church-based events, from Catholic to Methodist to Lutheran, and in this case, the historic St. Francis Xavier Parish.

Some Sundays are so much fun to cover, it’s impossible to call the day’s assignment “work.” Covering the Helmville Rodeo, where the old West and the new West happily collide, was one such Labor Day weekend in 2009.

Sundays are a popular day for political candidates to draw a crowd. Joe Biden attracted a full gymnasium and 1,200-some people who came to hear his Kalispell stump speech on Sept. 7, 2008. When the mayor of Kalispell accidentally introduced him as Joe O'Biden, the then U.S. vice-presidential candidate quipped that his Irish grandmother would love hearing that from up in heaven.

All was busily on schedule until David Burgert fired a gun at two Missoula County sheriff’s deputies, and a manhunt was under way for the former Project 7 leader in the mountains that surround the Lumber Jack Saloon west of Lolo.

After six years of Sundays, though, we didn’t miss a beat.

We had long ago learned to pack many changes of clothing and energy bars, make sure one of our cars had a full tank of fuel, keep cellphones fully charged, let the boss know when plans took a new turn, and not to make dinner commitments that couldn’t be canceled.

So off we went on the manhunt, rolling out of town with cellphones to our ears, warning our respective spouses we didn’t know when we would be home.
Exciting, yes. But in truth, it was just another Sunday, another one that lived up to our two mottos: Expect the Unexpected. And, Failure is Not an Option.

Church services, presidential candidates, rodeos, peace rallies, opera auditions, dog shows, summertime festivals, parades, car wrecks, floods, fatalities and the opening day of big-game season are just some of the stories that filled the first day of our work week and the front page of the Monday Missoulian.

When the going got weird or quirky or stressful – and it did – we relied on each other to stay focused, cheerful and as objective as possible.

No matter what, laughter always found a way into the day, the deep belly-aching kind that makes your eyes water.

Often it happened in the middle of an assignment, like the time we met Gus, a wild goose who came and went from Pat and Jim Pulliam’s home on Mullan Road as if he owned the place, pooping everywhere.

Usually, animals were involved in the funniest assignments, like the time we were chased by a flock of emus and spit on by alpacas.

We couldn’t believe our eyes when a group of tiny Western Montana fairgoers inspired us to check out George the giant swine, who in 2005 held the five-time world champion title of “world’s largest pig” and weighed in at a whopping 1,173 pounds.

On Sundays, we learned that there is no end to the variety of things people choose to do on their weekends.

Take the Mountain Sharks Dive Club of Missoula for example. On the blustery last day of October in 2006 and in honor of Halloween, the dive club sunk pumpkin carving to new depths by conducting the traditional gourd surgery at the bottom of the Blackfoot River in 43-degree water.

Storytelling is big on Sundays, and in Missoula people want to tell and listen to them, be it at an author’s book reading, sharing stories with the national oral history program StoryCorps, at powwows, and at Travelers’ Rest State Park.

Standing – sometimes sleeping – in line also seems to be a popular Sunday activity. Getting early front door placement for Black Monday, tickets to the Rolling Stones concert, premieres for the “Harry Potter and The Fellowship of the Ring” movies, Grizzly football, and being assured of seating when presidential candidates come calling seem to bring out half of Missoula County.

This being Montana, the masses come prepared for the long wait with sleeping bags, portable grills, coolers of food, folding chairs, books and board games in tow.

One young couple arrived at Northstar Aviation before dawn on a frigid morning to be first in line when the doors opened for presidential candidate Hillary Clinton’s visit in April 2008.

Although the romantic pair got props for being ambitious, they overslept in their shared sleeping bag and awoke to a long line of late comers who snaked around them while they slept. In the end, they did get seating, but they weren’t among the first through the door.

Professional as we could be on assignment, once back in the car or the newsroom, it was impossible to not fall into fits of hilarity – or disbelief – over some of Sunday’s standout comments and experiences.

Try as we might, we could never stop noting the physical similarities between dogs and their owners at the annual Five Valley Kennel Club show or be distracted by the ill-fitting loincloths and leather breeches that more than few people wore to celebrate the bicentennial of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

Missoula came out in full force for the opening of the Mobash skatepark. Covering the event offered a front-row seat to watch skateboarding legend Tony Hawk.

The Mile-marker 124 fire sweeps through dry timber in the summer of 2007.

Despite covering the speech as event-credentialed journalists, Sarah Palin cautioned audience members against media “moles” attending the Teen Challenge fundraiser where she was the featured speaker. “Be careful. There may be some media that sneaked into the room.”

A herd of curious emus make a good case for protective lens filters during an assignment at the Wild Rose Emu Ranch in the Bitterroot Valley in June 2007.

Then there was the Sarah Palin incident on Sept. 12, 2010.

It took all of our composure and professional training to keep our cool when the former Alaska governor came to Missoula to talk at a Teen Challenge fundraiser.

We were among the handful of journalists invited to the event by Palin’s handlers, had undergone a background check and received special media passes. Yet once we were there, corralled in a tiny visible space, Palin used many minutes of her talk to publicly ridicule us – the press – and described us as “moles” to her audience.

Linda kept her head high and continued to take photos, despite the rude shoving by the event’s handlers, and I continued to take notes throughout Palin’s speech.

Frustrated by the experience, it was a point of pride when the next day we were flooded with emails from Palin supporters who thanked us for our fair and accurate coverage, and by a Missoula police officer who wrote to tell us he admired our professionalism and work under fire.

On any given Sunday these past six years, Linda and I alternately overheated on the fringe of wildfires and endured subzero temperatures during the Christmas Bird Count at the Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. We trundled to work at rude early morning hours to cover the Missoula Marathon, and we fought our way through crowds to cover skateboard superstars and hungry hordes at the University of Montana International Food Festival.

We saw more than our share of people in costumes, and became well versed in police scanner lingo.

When we worked holidays together – everything from New Year’s Eve to Labor Day – it wasn’t really a chore, even if it was on the clock.

A year ago, for instance, when July 4 fell on Sunday and we felt sorry for ourselves because we couldn’t celebrate with our own families, we stumbled upon one of our all-time favorite assignments: the Flynn Family Reunion.

More than 130 Flynns had flocked to the family’s original 1872 homestead to celebrate the holiday with their large, loving brood that encompassed seven generations.

In the shade of ancient trees and their historic home just off Mullan Road, the Flynn family swept us into their fold and refused to allow us to leave until we sat among them and shared their amazing smorgasbord.

We caved in to their pressure and found unexpected joy on a holiday we thought would be only work.

Rarely do one reporter and one photographer work a singular day together for so many years. We did, and our time together – our treasure hunting – finding and telling the stories of the people, places and events of western Montana were memorable.

Along the way, we became dear friends, sharing Sunday confessions in the front seat of the car as we drove up and down back roads and highways.
We were sisters of the road, ready for the unexpected and to make the Monday paper, week in and week out, come high water or fire.

Missoulian reporter Betsy Cohen can be reached at (406) 523-5253 or by email at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it . Photographer Linda Thompson left the Missoulian in August for a two-year stay in Sweden.