A day of festivities in Chinook

The last float of the annual Parade of Lights and Christmas Stroll had just rode out of sight and people from both sides of Main Street hasted back into the Chinook Eagles bar, where the temperature was above freezing.

Sandra Miller, a seasoned rancher, was nursing a glass of red wine at a high top she shared with her daughter and granddaughter. A young family of three - the baby was bundled up in a stroller - were pressing through the crowd on their way toward the exit door. Everyone came together and cleared a path for the family and Miller laughingly said, "Only in Montana does the whole family come through a bar."

Christmas music started filling Main Street Chinook early Friday afternoon. Santa, who said he had a home in Chinook, started taking requests at the Wells Fargo bank shortly before 3 p.m. Kids asked for everything from Elsa sing dolls to X-boxes to sleds that look like snowmobiles. At nine months old, golden-haired Matthias Pratt didn't have the words to tell Santa what he wanted. His parents, Danny and Sarah, said Matthias was getting a Bible and other books. Matthias, Mr. Pratt added, loved words so much he literally ate them, if they let him out of sight.

Across the street, a group of ladies had taken over the First Bank of Montana and set up tables for a bell choir performance. This was Chandel Fouts' first year ringing those bells. When asked to be a part of the clanging ensemble, she was advised to keep an open mind. She was glad she did.

Wallner Hall in Chinook's United Methodist Church was hosting vendors. The Blaine County Republicans were waiting at the door, on the left, selling raffle tickets for the chance to win a Mossberg MVP Predator Combo rifle. A man was playing a black electric keyboard in the background as people browsed the room. Further back, two sisters were selling lentil-stuffed frogs called Therapy Frogs. Besides having the ability to stay warm for long periods of time after heated, "You can eat them if things get bad enough," one of the sisters said.

As the sun set and the crowds got bigger, the Eagles bar bustle intensified. The long u-shaped bar had barely a vacant seat two hours before the parade. The tables by the walls were also taken.

Mack McHenry was in the back corner, playing the gaming machines. His black cane was resting on the next stool. He'd lived in Chinook for the last 35 years. He'd seen every parade since the tradition started 30 years ago. For McHenry, the best part about Chinook wasn't the bar or the parade. It was the people.

"They help you out when you're in need. It happened to me today. I'm kind of crippled up," - McHenry motioned to his cane and leg - "and I drove out south just for a drive. I had a flat tire. I'm not able to do anything about it. Some people right behind me jumped out, jacked my car up, changed the tire, put everything in its place and drove off. Wonderful people."

He dropped and shook his head a little before adding, "I don't know what I would've done. I'm crippled up now - I couldn't have changed that tire any way."

Bill Young, standing tall and having an expression of vigilant happiness, grew up in the area. He was looking over the tree baskets that were, for now, still part of the silent auction, as he walked around the Chinook Eagles Club, which is an extension of the Eagles bar. He made the trek from neighboring Havre.

"This draws people from all over," he said, referring to the all-day event. "Half of Havre will be here."

Diana Martin was dressed in pink from head to toe. The only part of her suede outfit that wasn't pink was the rhinestones on her pink hat. She lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico, 40 years before moving to Chinook.

"I hated the city. I love the safety of the small town," she said.

She was taking payment for the Indian taco dinners being served in the Eagles Club. A young man standing around six feet came up to buy a meal ticket.

"Are you over 12?" she asked.

"Nope," he said.

The child cost was $5. It was $9 for everyone else.

"We'll feed over 300 people tonight," she added.

The parade was about to begin. Everyone began filling the Main Street sidewalks. Clumps of people huddled under the tower heaters that were spaced out on the sidewalks. The conversations on the sidewalk ranged from the "heat wave" temperature of tonight - last year at this time it was minus 20 degrees - to what people from Chinook were called.

"Chinook...ians," someone said.

"Chinook-ites?" someone else asked.

Then someone blurted out, "You can call us awesome."

Two police cruisers introduced the parade. Parents were hollering at the kids not to get to close to the road. A black Mack truck carrying the 2015 Sugarbeeters State Champions on its flatbed led the way. Among the participants were Santa and Mrs. Claus riding on the town fire truck, A Christmas Story float, complete with the leg lamp, another Santa float, this one in a wagon flat, and two pairs of "Chinookians" on two four-wheelers. In case anyone missed it the first time, the parade came back around.

Back inside, Sandra Miller and Chandel Fouts, who had put her bells down and replaced them with a beer, were talking about the team of horses that were supposed to pull a carriage in the parade. Apparently, there were problems with the team and couldn't be part of the parade.

Heather DePriest of the Chinook Chamber of Commerce thanked the donors for the tree baskets, explained that this was the first year of the live auction and fifth of the Festival of Trees and then introduced the fast-talking Kevin Elias, the auctioneer.

The first item to be auctioned was a basket of "some candies, some coffee stuff and probably 20 bottles of really good liquor." The price started at $90 and ultimately sold for $120. Elias would auction a total of 35 entries. All the proceeds would be going to the Loaves of Fishes, Leap, and Jump charities.

Bridgette Briere, wearing a stained black apron, walked out of the kitchen and stood in the doorway. Hands on hips, she scanned the cafeteria and satisfyingly nodded her head, saying nothing.

She started preparing 200 pounds of taco meat "one or two weeks" ago; it's been crazy - who can remember everything? She said she has been in the kitchen all day and has been overseeing a small crew put together mountainous Indian tacos as quickly as possible since the afternoon.

At one point, the line was backed up 20 deep.

"I've been doing this for 15 years," she said.

The throng of children, women, and cowboy hat-clad men, seated at the long tables in front, were laughing, chatting, and burying their faces into tacos.

"You better get some food before it's all gone," she said.