DELPHIA

In 1908 the Milwaukee, St. Paul, and Pacific Railroad laid track and began service to Roundup and beyond. About 17 miles east of Roundup the company bridged the Musselshell River and contracted with the Globe Elevator Company of Lewistown to construct an elevator for neighboring ranchers to store their grain for shipment on the line. Thus, started Delphia, so that steam engines could have water and load up with grain, and one wonders if passengers may have worried about going back East when engineers mentioned going to "fill at Delphia."

The government was not far behind, and Delphia's post office was founded that same year. Initially it was located in the home of the first postmaster, actually a postmistress, Nora Spenddiff. When seepage from the high-water table was detected, the grain elevator was augmented by a 15-horsepower gasoline engine, and when the REA brought power to the area in the 1950s, the pump was converted to electricity.

At one time the town had a combination store-post office, a school, a beautiful park for the residents, and a vehicle road, likely less beautiful if we judge by today's standards, to the outer world. Tales about the height of the park slide, the speed of its spinning merry-go-round, and unsuccessful attempts at flying off the old-fashioned swing still circulate. Not-so-young alumni chatter about the good educations they received in the little school, and ranchers speak fondly of when the railroad was a partner in shipping grain. No one mentioned saloons, but Roundup always has had a goodly list of them, and there was that road to the outside, remember.

Years ago, the railroad ceased service and sold the elevator, along with the surrounding land, to a local rancher, who used it to store his crop until pumps no longer could hold back the water, so what grain remains in it are rotted remnants from years past. Though the line is still in place, the power has been turned off, and the structure continues its losing battle with gravity. Its lean is not like the tower at Pisa's; rather, from the ground it makes a heroic effort to be vertical then slants several degrees to the south. It also has lost a good deal of the pretty colors it still retained at the time of the painting, about a dozen years ago.

The Grain Elevator at Delphia

The poor building is splitting open; at one corner the two walls are pulling apart, and several of the window frames are dislocated or entirely missing. The pump hose still dangles out a window, the unused chute stands steadfastly upright to distribute the phantom grain, and bushes growing into trees inside the ramshackle frame poke branches through the empty eye sockets of windows.

The post office – store has lost its roof down to the boards, and the pediment has disappeared. Though the remains bear a "private property" sign, store cabinets are still visible inside. It seems miraculous that, whereas the door has vanished, the glass windows there are intact, but possibly the location is too inconvenient for vandals.

The sign broadcasting Delphia's population of 3 is fixed high on a garage façade, but when we drove through several days ago all 3 seemed to have vacated. The two immediate houses appeared empty, with a broken chair on one porch, but the lawn areas were trim, and the other house had a picnic bench and part of a barbecue grill. Possibly their occupation is seasonal, though at a little distance are larger ranch buildings and houses.

The single-lane road bridge to Delphia remains sound, and the railway bridge, minus tracks, a couple of miles west now lies on private property. As late as 1984 there remained a country post office at Delphia, but today it is no better a destination for your letters than for your wheat.