Hingham: Still hanging on

The old bank building in the declining town of Hingham burned in 2010 and stood as a shell until two weeks ago, when mighty prairie winds blew its charred remains to the ground. When Mayor Ray Lipp was asked if he had considered the building's collapse as a symbolic foreshadowing of Hingham's future, he remained pragmatic.

"Well, it needed to be torn down anyway. It was already a done deal," he said, shrugging matter-of-factly.

Lipp isn't just the cowboy boot-wearing, part-time mayor of the 118-person town of Hingham, Montana. Like many officials in rural towns across America, Hingham's mayor is a jack of many trades.

He is primarily a crop insurance agent - "Hi-Line Insurance Agency is what I am," he said.

Hingham was settled by homesteaders at the beginning of the 20th century. A town was established by the 1910s, and in 1917, Hingham was incorporated. In its early years, the agricultural town thrived as a grain storage and shipping center along the Great Northern Railroad. Back in its heyday, there was a school, hospital and up to 40 businesses. The town peaked in the 1970s with 262 residents. But that was as big as things got. By the 1980s, the decline in population caused the Hingham school to join neighboring Rudyard School to form Blue Sky School. And the consolidating didn't stop there. Another merging took place in 2005 when Blue Sky came together with Kremlin-Gildford to form North Star Schools.

So what's happening in Hingham? Where is everyone going? Pat Chinadle, a Hinghum farmer, was sitting in Farmer's Union Company Store, drinking coffee from a small styrofoam cup and waiting for his wife to pick him up. He said it's all about the farming.

"Twenty-five years ago, it took a lot of help to run a farm, but because of the machinery today, they don't need it. Even though the farms are bigger, the equipment can do it. When people are going out there and using 100-foot sprayers, what used to take a week is done in one day. They don't need all the help. They don't need six, seven kids," he said.

To make matters worse, Lipp said farming has been hurting anyway.

"The cost of everything is still up. We had that July Fourth hailstorm that hit Hill and Liberty counties pretty hard. So that took a lot of the crops out. A lot of crop insurance doesn't give enough money back into the guys to cover the price of production. So they're losing money," Lipp said.

Efficient machine farming, high prices - are there any other factors contributing to Hingham's decline? What about the Internet? Has its ability to bring the world anywhere played a role in luring younger generations to fast-paced, activity-laden big towns and cities?

"Nah," Chinadle said, nodding his head slightly and lightly tapping his coffee cup, which was now empty. "Not as much as equipment and its consequential lack of jobs. One person can farm 5, 6,000 acres themselves. You take 20 years ago, it took a lot more help. There's just no reason for people to be around."

Hingham is shrinking, but it's not unique. This is something Smalltown, USA, is dealing with.

"In the old days, you stayed where you were. Maybe your dad was a butcher or a farmer - you kind of grew up and came into that," Lipp said "Now, everybody goes off, a lot of them anyways, to college. They meet somebody or they get a degree - they go out of the state to get that job.

"This is rural America and it's what you get. Small town America out here in Montana is not in a growth phase. People know where we're at. We're just all living here," he added.  

No drastic plans are in the works to spark growth in Hingham.

Lipp said igniting a flame of growth is very difficult. There aren't a lot of options. As far as the future goes, Hingham residents hope to keep enough kids in school and pray that grain prices get higher. Sometimes someone will buy a house, and that always helps. Some people use Hingham as a bedroom community and go to a warmer place for the winter.

Lipp added one last thing, unintentionally summarizing the state of Hingham.

"We're just kind of hanging in there," he said.

He stood up, slipped a beige baseball cap on his exposed scalp, and zipped up a large, blue, nylon jacket. That was all the time he had to discuss the future. There was work to do. A tree fell in someone's yard, and he was going to help clean up the mess. After that, he was going to turn the water off at a house where someone had died. The house was going to be listed and it was good to make sure there wouldn't be any problems.

The mayor stepped in his truck and gravel grinded as he drove away. However uncertain the future may be, life goes on one day at a time for Hingham and its mayor.