Betty Jo Murphy Barnes was given the gift of life Aug. 11, 1935, in Lewistown, Mont. She grew up in Roy, Mont., about 30 miles away from Lewistown. She graduated from Roy High School in 1953, then headed to college in Dillon, Mont., which is now Montana Western. There, she earned her teaching degree.
Her first job was in Lodge Grass, where she fell in love at first sight with C. Harlan Barnes, better known as Barny Barnes by his ironworker buddies. He was working on the railroad at that time. Mom described Dad as having the looks of a movie star and could dance better than Fred Astaire. They were married May 26, 1956. A year later, my oldest brother, Barry, was born while Dad was working on a bank building in Casper, Wyo. Three years later, I (Bud Barnes) was born in Sturgis, S.D., while Dad was working on Minuteman missiles.
Mom loved being a modern-day Gypsy, following the construction jobs with Dad state by state. Our first home was a Frontier trailer that Dad pulled with a ’58 Ford trailer-puller truck. Dad used to say that it had a four speed with a two-speed splitter and a fifth under the seat. If you ever watched the Lucille Ball movie, “The Long, Long Trailer,” that was Mom and Dad with two kids.
We lived in most of the Northwest states, Minnesota, South Dakota and Washington. In Washington, we lived in Seattle, then ended up in Pomeroy. What an adventure we had.
Damn pandemic. Being blocked out for a month not being able to see Mom was hard. Finally I was able to see her through the window of the courtyard. A few days before Easter, I was allowed to go in to see her, now that she was on hospice care and in a separate room. She couldn’t speak to form words, but she could nod yes or no. I talked about all the great times she and Dad had dancing and traveling to all the lower states, plus Mexico, Canada and then Alaska, where they lived for at least five years. It had been a good visit.
I told Mom that I would see her on Easter. She tried to speak, I said, “I can’t understand you,” so I held her hand and looked into her big blue eyes and told her that I loved her. She smiled at me and nodded yes. What a wonderful last memory I have. Mom passed away peacefully Easter morning, Sunday, April 12, 2020, of Alzheimer’s disease and natural causes.
Thank you, Tina and all the Wedgewood staff and Kindred Hospice for making this happen, my last memory with my mom.
Mom was probably the toughest woman I ever knew. She used to say to never be afraid to fight for what is right. Here are a couple of examples: Mom loved her animals. When she was in her late 40s, while she was training my horse, a rat ran out of the tall grass in front of the horse, which made the horse rear up and fall, rolling over Mom. Before we could get to her, she jumped up and walked over and into the house. An hour later, she said something was wrong and she should go to the hospital. She ended up having a broken pelvis. The doctor said there was no way she could have walked up the stairs and into the house, but she did.
The incident at the border is what Dad called it. Their second trip to Alaska, the Border Patrol motioned Dad into the inspection line. Earlier, Dad had dropped a .44 shell and it had rolled down by the window. They saw the shell, so Mom and Dad were pulled into separate interrogation rooms. Dad was asked where the gun was. He explained there was no gun — just a dropped shell. Dad was out of the room in 30 minutes.
He then noticed a commotion and, three hours later, Mom came out very upset. Turns out a very large woman, 6 feet and more than 200 pounds, was poking Mom in the chest, wanting to know where the gun was. Mom said there was no gun and to not ever poke her again. Well, she poked Mom again. Dad said, “You know your mom. She hit that woman on the nose.” While falling, the woman hit her head on the wall, knocking herself out. Other officers stormed in and cuffed Mom. Dad said the large woman bully was so embarrassed she didn’t even press charges. They let her go, but they did dump every drawer in the motor home trying to find a gun. It took a month to straighten everything up once they got to Alaska. Mom said that the large woman at the border will think twice before she pokes another American again. From then on, Mom and Dad took the ferry from Seattle to Alaska.
There was also Mom’s teenage life lesson. Roy was a typical Montana town. There was a bar in the middle of town and one on each end. As a teenager, Mom had a best friend, Kay Wood. They were always looking for excitement. Knowing it was 30 miles away in Lewistown, Mom got in the habit of staying with Kay every Friday night and coming home Saturday.
They tried riding horses and this just took up too much time. They noticed a truck was always in town at one of the bars. It always arrived Friday afternoon and didn’t leave until Saturday morning. The keys were always in it. Teenage logic: “Let’s borrow the truck and bring it back by Saturday morning!” Many times that truck was borrowed.
One Saturday morning, Mom was heading home and noticed the truck was at the Roy Garage. Grandpa was fueling it up for John, the driver of the truck. He asked if she had noticed any kids stealing gas from this truck because he had to fuel up every Saturday morning. Of course Mom said she didn’t see any kids stealing gas. Grandpa explained that John spent a lot of time at the bars to get courage enough to drive that truck. It was the most dangerous truck in the state of Montana, supplying the mines up north. “Why?” Mom asked. He explained that the truck was full of dynamite and if John hit a rock or a ditch and jarred the dynamite, it could explode, leveling five city blocks or the entire town of Roy. That was the last time Mom ever borrowed the truck.
Mom was a rare combination of someone who had a love of life and great understanding of what was important. Her motto was to live, love and laugh.
Mom and Dad were blessed by retiring early and getting to travel at least 20 years before having health problems. She used to say, if you’re healthy, you’re wealthy.
In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count, it’s the life in your years.
Mom is survived by her son, Barry Harlan Barnes, of Jackson, Wyo.; son and daughter-in-law James J. “Bud” and Melinda Barnes, of Clarkston; grandkids Janelle, Cody, Amanda and Shelby Barnes; great-grandkids Candice Barnes, Michael Reuben, Samuel Barnes, Ryken Andrews, Kylynn Andrews, Hyral Coffee Barnes and numerous relatives throughout Montana.
She was preceded in death by her father, Joe Murphy; mother Eva Murphy; brother Jim Murphy; and nephew Dan Murphy.
Mom was a Methodist. A celebration of Betty Jo’s life will be in June. This will be announced to family and friends at a later date.
Mom and Dad spent many years in Jackson Hole, Wyo. She will be laid to rest next to Dad there.
Mom and Dad reunited and are enjoying the dance.
Please sign the guest book at merchantfuneralhome.com.
