Hi-Line Retirement Center's "Last Man Standing"

Emery Myrick is a self-proclaimed "last man standing" as he was the lone resident at the Hi-Line Retirement Center. As the HLRC was set to close on Sept. 30th, Emery was slow to find a new residence which to call "home" and was still at the center on Monday; his departure was set at that time to move to Awe Kualawaache Care Center on the Crow Agency on Tuesday.

Emery moved to HLRC following an accident in his hometown, Poplar, that left him with injuries requiring care from a facility. I sat down with the gent and Dixie Moore, of the HLRC, for an interesting and entertaining interview. He stated his Native American name, and I asked him to spell it. When he replied "N-a-c-h-p-d-h-k-p-c-h-c", I knew it was going to be an interesting encounter. Emery finally agreed to just have people call him, "Dog Don't Listen." He grinned from ear to ear!

A member of the Ft. Peck Sioux Tribe, he has led an interesting life. He lived for a while in Washington, and then moved back to MT, when his mother passed away when he was 13. He lived with an aunt for a while; he no longer wanted to live with his "auntie" at a point in time and moved in with friends. This small framed man told of living on the streets, being part of a gang and being able to ride his bicycle doing a "wheelie" all the way down the streets of Poplar. He will be taking his wheelchair and his bicycle, which he still rides, with him. He said he has no idea where all the "stuff" in his room came from, though Dixie and HLRC employees assured him it is his.

While he was deep in thought and detail, several times both Dixie and I asked of him, "what did you do next" or "where did you work?" His stories went down several paths and there was never was a clear response, just another quickly shared adventure. At one response, Dixie again asked him what he had done for work and he kept his clear thinking in gear and responded, ever so precise and intent "I'm getting to that!" as she left to tend to a matter, he shared with me his continued history.

Emery worked for A&S (Assiniboine and Sioux) Construction in Poplar. He went to school until he was a junior, and then attended Job Corps at Kicking Horse in Kalispell. After Job Corps he returned to his native land of Poplar and enrolled back in school, and graduated in 1978 (or somewhere in there). I offered him congratulations on finishing school and he looked at me like there shouldn't been have any question about it..."Well, I only had TWO years left!" He went to work again for A&S Construction, which still makes hexagon net tarps for covering army tanks.

One of four children born into his family, a younger brother died young, and his one sister lived in Willows, CA, last time he knew of her whereabouts; he has no idea the whereabouts of his other sister. He never married.

Emery is an artist and painter, and showed us his cap which he has painted Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull on, and has a fading image of God on it as well.

The street on the north side of HLRC has been his main street of travel. He states he pushes his wheelchair downtown, though he said he enjoys being outdoors and could easily ride his bike. Those streets will see a lot less traffic with his departure. If you are so inclined, drop him a card or note, he would appreciate it.

As I left the quiet halls at the center, the poem on the east wall, "Do not ask me to Remember" spoke volumes of the world of some of the residents who were afflicted with dementia and Alzheimer's. They had called these same halls and walls "home"... they were left homeless with the pending closing. With them all transferred, there is a sense of loneliness and pounding sound of emptiness.

Who is to say the recent rain wasn't a sign or symbol of the tears that were shed as each individual moved from their surroundings, their familiar faces, their families and the "home" some of them knew since birth?

The north entrance wall still displays the copper/bronze/gold tree of life which once was adorned with pictures of residents; and with the autumn colors descending upon us, the message came to me...it is their golden years and to move on to the next chapter in their individual lives... they had to "leaf" us.