By Bev Pechan
Hill City and Keystone each lost one of their “legendary” citizens shortly before Christmas. To me a legendary person is one whose name is often brought up in pleasant conversation or to “discuss” issues of the day or the past that person is vocal on or has participated in and has strong opinions on.
Georgia Gerken was a person I deeply respected. She was a straight-shooter and a doer. You always knew where you stood with Georgia. I liked that. Hill City received many contributions to their enjoyment of life through her efforts, though she didn't seem to care who got the credit, as long as the outcome was favorable.
After moving with her family to Hill City, Georgia was instrumental in the development and weekly production of the Hill City Prevailer, started by her husband, Jack Gerken, I believe, in the 1950s. Even after the Prevailer was sold, Georgia continued to write columns, editorials and letters to the editor as someone interested in her community. If she had strong feelings about something, she did not hesitate to express them.
Social groups Georgia helped pioneer or belonged to always saw her service going the extra mile: Hill City’s original Fife & Drum Corps and revival, the Hill City Arts Council, Friends of the Library, Hill City Garden Club and the Ladies Auxilliary. I’m sure there were more.
Georgia always came by the Prevailer office each fall, making sure the word got out regarding donations to the veterans home so patients could “shop” for gifts for their families for Christmas. She collected and wrote about Hill City's history in papers she regularly gave at the West River History Conferences in Keystone and Rapid City. Son Ed has taken up the challenge of preserving local history as well and is the go-to guy in town for historical information. There were times that Georgia’s health slowed her down some and at one point several years ago, she was pronounced dead, but she wasn’t ready to go yet and so she didn't.
We often did not agree on politics and social issues local and national, Georgia and I, and so we learned to leave these things out of our conversations and were the better for it. We have both been right. And wrong.
Those whose lives have crossed the path of John Talley, Jr., of Keystone have probably never forgotten those meetings, either. John was legendary for his hard work, willingness to help others and his quick temper, which I believe he took some pride in. Small in stature, John could be intimidating if he wanted to make a point. He would have been mortified if someone thought he had a soft side to those rough edges. But he did.
John and Sally took in a small white poodle named Fritzie who was about to be abandoned by his owner and John loved and interacted with that little dog as doting grandparents do their children.
John grew up during hard times in Lead during the Great Depression in a large and fatherless family. Hard work meant survival and the fear of not being an able provider haunted him the rest of his life, so he made sure he worked every day. In his 80s, John was still operating heavy equipment and could keep up with or surpass many of his younger co-workers.
This meant John also learned how to fix things. Buying replacements wasn’t an option, as those of his generation learned. He became proficient with nearly everything in the construction trade. He enjoyed tinkering with things for his neighbors when they quit working, taking pride in his ability to fix it, often for free. For years, John served as the town’s mechanic. If it didn’t run, John could usually find a part for it, often saving customers hundreds of dollars in repairs.
Over the years, some decided John’s prized storage area was a junk yard and not pleasing to the eye, but they perhaps forgot that someone in their family had no doubt looked to John in the past for a few favors. Since Keystone’s old town walking tour has become popular, John's vintage resting place for rusting relics has become a popular roadside attraction for tourists and old car buffs. Perhaps it should be designated as a local historical place.
During World War II, John served in the Pacific Theater, fighting the enemy in steaming jungles. His wife, Sally, said he still had nightmares about those times and sometimes came up swinging from a sound sleep.
He was proud to have participated in one of the Honor Flights to Washing-ton, D.C., for veterans a few years ago, accompanied by his daughter from his first wife, Kay Peterson, who died of cancer.
It’s too bad that John never wrote down anything about his life and I don’t recall that anyone ever interviewed him or recorded his recollections or storytelling. That’s too bad and I am also guilty of not following through. I guess we all thought John would always be here.
Hill City and Keystone each lost one of their “legendary” citizens shortly before Christmas. To me a legendary person is one whose name is often brought up in pleasant conversation or to “discuss” issues of the day or the past that person is vocal on or has participated in and has strong opinions on.
Georgia Gerken was a person I deeply respected. She was a straight-shooter and a doer. You always knew where you stood with Georgia. I liked that. Hill City received many contributions to their enjoyment of life through her efforts, though she didn't seem to care who got the credit, as long as the outcome was favorable.
After moving with her family to Hill City, Georgia was instrumental in the development and weekly production of the Hill City Prevailer, started by her husband, Jack Gerken, I believe, in the 1950s. Even after the Prevailer was sold, Georgia continued to write columns, editorials and letters to the editor as someone interested in her community. If she had strong feelings about something, she did not hesitate to express them.
Social groups Georgia helped pioneer or belonged to always saw her service going the extra mile: Hill City’s original Fife & Drum Corps and revival, the Hill City Arts Council, Friends of the Library, Hill City Garden Club and the Ladies Auxilliary. I’m sure there were more.
Georgia always came by the Prevailer office each fall, making sure the word got out regarding donations to the veterans home so patients could “shop” for gifts for their families for Christmas. She collected and wrote about Hill City's history in papers she regularly gave at the West River History Conferences in Keystone and Rapid City. Son Ed has taken up the challenge of preserving local history as well and is the go-to guy in town for historical information. There were times that Georgia’s health slowed her down some and at one point several years ago, she was pronounced dead, but she wasn’t ready to go yet and so she didn't.
We often did not agree on politics and social issues local and national, Georgia and I, and so we learned to leave these things out of our conversations and were the better for it. We have both been right. And wrong.
Those whose lives have crossed the path of John Talley, Jr., of Keystone have probably never forgotten those meetings, either. John was legendary for his hard work, willingness to help others and his quick temper, which I believe he took some pride in. Small in stature, John could be intimidating if he wanted to make a point. He would have been mortified if someone thought he had a soft side to those rough edges. But he did.
John and Sally took in a small white poodle named Fritzie who was about to be abandoned by his owner and John loved and interacted with that little dog as doting grandparents do their children.
John grew up during hard times in Lead during the Great Depression in a large and fatherless family. Hard work meant survival and the fear of not being an able provider haunted him the rest of his life, so he made sure he worked every day. In his 80s, John was still operating heavy equipment and could keep up with or surpass many of his younger co-workers.
This meant John also learned how to fix things. Buying replacements wasn’t an option, as those of his generation learned. He became proficient with nearly everything in the construction trade. He enjoyed tinkering with things for his neighbors when they quit working, taking pride in his ability to fix it, often for free. For years, John served as the town’s mechanic. If it didn’t run, John could usually find a part for it, often saving customers hundreds of dollars in repairs.
Over the years, some decided John’s prized storage area was a junk yard and not pleasing to the eye, but they perhaps forgot that someone in their family had no doubt looked to John in the past for a few favors. Since Keystone’s old town walking tour has become popular, John's vintage resting place for rusting relics has become a popular roadside attraction for tourists and old car buffs. Perhaps it should be designated as a local historical place.
During World War II, John served in the Pacific Theater, fighting the enemy in steaming jungles. His wife, Sally, said he still had nightmares about those times and sometimes came up swinging from a sound sleep.
He was proud to have participated in one of the Honor Flights to Washing-ton, D.C., for veterans a few years ago, accompanied by his daughter from his first wife, Kay Peterson, who died of cancer.
It’s too bad that John never wrote down anything about his life and I don’t recall that anyone ever interviewed him or recorded his recollections or storytelling. That’s too bad and I am also guilty of not following through. I guess we all thought John would always be here.