Matson Ranches

The history of Matson family ranches in Musselshell County has two roots, one bound up with the Lackey’s, which will take the next place in our series. The senior Matson was an immigrant, German homesteader, whose property passed into the hands of his son, Emil. The original Lackey homestead was just adjacent to this, and when the Lackey’s passed away, Emil’s brother, Alfred, bought that land in order to be near his brother. For some reason it was advantageous for tax purposes that the brothers switch ranches, so they swapped, and Alf came to own his parents’ original property and buildings.

All this property lies roughly in the area between North Gage and Allen Roads and extends east. As an income supplement the men operated their own sawmill, and it was there one day that a terrible accident sundered their relationship.

An altercation started between them, and Alf forever blamed his brother for the flying chunk of wood that struck him full in the face. Medical attention was a luxury for them, and the injured man somehow managed to reach home, where he lay unattended. The wound healed, but Alf was horribly disfigured, and the scar formed even deeper inside him.

The brothers never again spoke or were found together in the same room. A neighbor recalled that her family’s including the men in holiday celebrations meant that one was invited for Christmas, the other, for New Year’s. Because of his face Alf became reclusive, fearful to mix with people, but was known as a kind, gentle man.

He was also frugal and never budgeted himself a bull, but he overcame that shortage by secretly borrowing them from neighbors. Lurking behind trees until the coast was clear, he then appropriated a bull, which would not object to a little overtime, for a day or two until the job was completed. No one was fooled, but the victims never objected, because helping one another is the Montana way.

Brother Emil, lacking any physical stigma, was barely more sociable, and little was known about him. The burial places of the brothers, in fact, are unknown. Emil, believed to have been afflicted with cancer, sold his property in 1962, and Alf remained so hostile to his brother that he refused an offer for his land simply because it came from Emil’s buyer. When Emil died, Alfred called on his brother’s attorney to discover his worth, for he was determined to surpass that amount.

One wonders what manner of disagreement was so powerful as to precipitate a perpetual rift. Was it money, a woman, politics? Perhaps it was just a flare of temper over their work at the moment.

The End of the Road

We didn’t know why his pick-up, rusted an autumn orange, was deserted in the middle of a field. Perhaps that’s where it died, too, but it seemed to be waiting, almost begging, for the quiet, mutilated man to turn the key and get back to work.

Room for a Friend

A dilapidated, crumbling ruin like this one invites a thousand questions, but the biggest mystery is why a man that lived like a veritable hermit needed an outhouse with double seats. Was this the original commode for the family of four, or was it meant to give Alfred a choice of thrones?

The Wind Inherits

For us, reaching Alf’s ranch required a drive over a track even worse than North Gage, scaling a fence gate, and walking circumspectly over ground that looked ripe for rattlesnakes. There, with the breeze whistling through the decaying buildings and equipment as we surveyed the scene, the term “Ghost Ranch” seemed a fitting name for such a place.

On a panel of old barn wood, an appropriate ground for the subject matter, one sees the little house that was his mother’s, then his (It had still a tattered boot on the porch); the water pump house; a barn; a wagon; and fragments of machinery.

Fire is another element that inherits, and in the summer of 2017, it claimed what the wind and weather had spared and destroyed all that had stood.

On the premises of Emil’s ranch buildings, there was nothing save items of trash.

Thanatopsis

Our one trip to these scattered remains was underscored by death. A contemporary cow had wandered into the barn, fallen through the floor, and lay decomposing beneath the rubble. In addition, we found this little cottontail. It lay peacefully on open ground and added another unit to the ranks of Alf Matson Ranch spirits.