It had been windy, rainy, and cold all day, but by the time we got out of the truck at the American Legion Hall last Saturday night, the snow was coming down hard, and though it wouldn’t last the night, it was sticking to everything for the time being. We were right on time – 5:00 – which is a rarity for us, but when we pulled open the door, we were greeted by a packed house. They had come out to support one of their own, and neither snow nor rain nor wind nor elk season would stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed task. Julie Wilson has cancer, and it was time to eat some BBQ and bid on the silent auction to raise some money to help her out.
We dropped our suggested donation for dinner into the jar, and then hit the auction tables to scout out the offerings and plan our bidding strategy. There were gift baskets filled with wine and candy and coffee and baked goods. There were gift certificates and hand carved boxes, small appliances and an autographed hardcover edition of a book by a local author. There were framed photographs and gently used tools, and did I mention the wine baskets? We placed our bids and got in the food line.
Volunteers that spanned the generations placed the hamburger buns on our paper plates, filled them with shredded home-smoked pork butt, accompanied it with made-from-scratch Cole slaw and the family recipe baked beans. Dessert was your choice of cookie – oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip.
We scanned the crowded room and snagged a couple of seats at the table with Cec and Doug, along with Judy and a couple from California who were land shopping in the area. We pulled out our folding chairs and placed our plates atop the bare plastic-topped folding table, pulled out plastic utensils, and set about eating our supper, the likes of which was better than most big city restaurants you’ll find. We talked real estate and livestock; the restaurant we are about to open; the challenges of hiring good help and the never-ending dramas of small towns. We talked about California, and my husband politely informed the land-shopping couple that – if they were coming to Council to get away from the craziness of California, then welcome, but if they were thinking they were bringing California craziness to Council, we’d rather they just move on down the road elsewhere. They laughed without offense and assured him they were refugees, not reformers.
We visited people we knew well, greeted folks with whom we were just acquainted, and – as always – met people for the first time. The room was filled with conversation and laughter, not a stranger in the place
As we finished off our meal, including seconds – just a little more pulled pork, please; no bun necessary – the shout went out, “Auction closes in 10 minutes.” There was an audible scraping of chairs across the wooden floor, as bidders excused themselves to check the bid sheets for their desired items. Two of our bids were standing strong at the top, but we had to bump one up by $10, as someone had outbid us while we were enjoying our cookies. “Two minutes…one minute…the auction is closed,” and then the winners were announced. Score! We took three out of three, and now my Christmas shopping for a friend is done, and a little kitchen gadget for myself.
We gathered up our loot, made the check out to Julie, and headed for the door, but not before stopping to chat with, and give a hug of encouragement to, the lady of the hour who was present and looking good for all her ordeal…upbeat and positive…appreciative for the show of support.
Out into the still-snowing evening, home to close up chickens for the night, then off to the next event – the live auction at Wilson’s Lounge (no relation to Julie). The night was just getting started!
We hadn’t planned to hit the live auction, but after the dinner and silent auction, there was a sense that – if we missed the live auction – we’d be missing out. Besides, we didn’t have anything on the calendar for the evening, so why not.
It was standing room only and the auction was in full swing. We lucked out and grabbed a couple of seats at the table with our same dinner-mates which turned out to be right up front. After we sat down, I sent my husband over to get us a number. I mean, after all…what if they auctioned something we couldn’t live without?
Over the next three hours the heart of the evening beat loud and strong. Ranch owners and ranch hands, real estate agents and real estate investors, millionaires and minimum wage workers, excavators and educators, loggers and laborers…they were from all walks of life, and they were all here for one purpose. They auctioned new items and old, handmade and home-cooked, the fruit of the men and women they employed, and the labor of their own hand.
A cord of firewood in the truck out front went for more than $300, and then was donated back twice with the call of, “Sell it again!” eventually bringing in over $1000 on the night. Twelve quarts of Kylee’s world-famous home-canned salsa – some with cilantro, some without – went for more than $70, and Mel’s made-from-scratch 8” wide cinnamon rolls went for $10 each.
Hunting knives and compound bows; a brand new hand gun and a gun cleaning kit; dump truck loads of sawdust and gravel; two tons of alfalfa hay, (“We’ll get Robert to deliver within a reasonable area.”); antique wingback chairs and steamer trunks; gift certificates for massages and meals and groceries and river raft trips; 60 pounds of Black Angus beef and a cooler full of Alaska seafood (both in the back, take home tonight); home-canned pickled vegetables (which drew the comment, “He does some good shit!” from the crowd) and pints of local honey; quilts and afghans, all hand-made.
Though our number 55 flashed several times by way of bidding, we ended up only winning one item – one of the leftover smoked pork butts from the earlier dinner (the very best kind of “butt” to bring home from the bar! LOL)
By Sunday evening, the money was counted – the donations and the dinner proceeds and the silent auction and the live auction – and our little town of Council, Idaho – population 962, median household income $35,750 according to livability.com – had raised $14,273.50 for one of their own – Julie Wilson – daughter of the late Norm and Rosie, part of the Kilborn Klan; Aunt to Ryan; sister to Karen; mother to Kaylee; loved by all.