Made from scratch
Third-generation baker preserves the family business
Mike Humphrey wonders how long it will be before most people won't care about the difference between store-bought pastries and those made from scratch.
He contemplates the time-honored trade that's been in his family for three generations, and wonders if a fourth generation - his own 5-year-old son - would be able to make a living as a baker.
These are the thoughts that occupy Humphrey's mind at 3:30 a.m. as he goes through the daily rituals of mixing dough, baking bread and frying doughnuts.
"The thing that scares me the most is when we lose the people who know the difference between Twinkies and made-from-scratch doughnuts," Humphrey mused. "Even my son wants Twinkies and Ding Dongs."
Six days a week, he's the human machine that drives the production of breads, pastries, cookies and cakes that fill the shelves at his family's Lake City Bakery & Eatery in downtown Polson. But to call Humphrey simply a baker falls short of describing a family man who cares so deeply about the resort town's history that he's spent more than 1,000 hours filming everyday life in Polson, with an emphasis on oral histories of the town's oldest citizens.
"I've got to do it before the story is gone," he said. "To me it's important for them to say it in their own words."
Humphrey, 42, pores over old newspapers from the early 1900s, studying the way things used to be and trying to come to terms with the growth that's changing the essence of the community that's snuggled up against the south shore of Flathead Lake.
HE WALKS the line between old and new in his profession, too.
Both of his grandfathers were bakers in Billings. One of them started at age 14, baking on a coal-fired hearth in the days before World War I. As Humphrey filmed an interview with his paternal grandfather, he learned how the war changed the nature of the baking industry, providing the technology to begin mechanizing the process.
Humphrey was just 10 when he got his first job at his father's bakery, greasing pans in the same building where the bakery still operates.
"I had my dad buy me a red, white and blue backpack I wanted. It cost $50," he recalled. "Dad made me work it off."
His father, Larry, who runs Breanna's Bakery in Gillette, Wyo., was the only family member formally trained in the trade. He attended a baking school in Las Vegas.
Humphrey stepped into the family business as a way to be able to stay in Polson and earn a living.
"It wasn't something I dreamt about doing," he said. "I don't want to dismiss baking, though, because I'm very proud of it. I'd like my son to take it over one day."
He bakes about 95 percent of his products from scratch, an art that has all but fallen by the wayside in the baking industry because more and more bakeries are opting for mass-produced frozen dough to save time and labor.
"The way the world's changing, it's about learning [and preserving] an art," he said of his profession.
Baking from scratch is a skill learned over time. He knows how the dough will react to the oven's heat if it's too warm or too cold. Humphrey compares the handling of dough to his other passion - photography.
"It's like taking a picture. You need to know what to do to compensate if a photo is overexposed or underexposed," he said. "Dough is the same way. You have to pay your dues in this business."
HUMPHREY'S WIFE, Deneya, manages the restaurant in the bakery, and his mother, Marilyn, works at the bakery too, making it the quintessential "ma and pa" small business.
Humphrey knows it will be a challenge for his business to survive the winds of change in Polson. Lake City Bakery, one of the oldest businesses in Polson, used to be the only bakery in town. Now there are four. Super One Foods and Safeway both have bakeries within their grocery stores, and Wheat Montana is the most recent arrival.
Before the competition moved in, Lake City employed a crew of 14. These days, a corps of six keeps the place running during the lean winter months, with part-timers added during the bustling tourist season.
Adding population to Polson would broaden his customer base, but it would also affect the small-town character Humphrey holds dear.
"I don't want to lose the small-town feeling," he said. "The town of Polson is our family."
With booths tucked beneath arches of white lattice, a Coca-Cola clock and a banner on the wall that declares "God Bless America," the bakery exudes Americana. Employees know their customers' lives, and chit-chat about kids, schools and politics is served up daily along with platters of chicken sandwiches, homemade soups and sweet rolls.
"Our customers are the best," his wife said. "They're almost like family."
Keeping a baker's hours is a challenge for the Humphreys. Mike gets up at 3 a.m. and heads to the bakery; his wife typically follows a couple of hours later. Their son, Noah, a kindergartener, often stays overnight with his grandmother or longtime employee Debbie Thompson to keep his hours "normal."
"I've somehow learned to get by on four to five hours of sleep a night," Humphrey said.
AS HE finishes his shift for the day by early afternoon, Humphrey's thoughts turn to film projects he's got in the works. Videotaping began some eight to nine years ago as a diversion to keep busy after he quit drinking for good. Years of partying was taking a toll on his body; he needed to clean up his act, he said.
"When I got sober, I had all these things I wanted to do."
Urged by a close friend to get into photography and videotaping, Humphrey took up his cameras and "just went and started knocking on doors.
"I've got the deepest respect for their philosophies," he said about the old-timers he interviews.
Humphrey's eyes teared up as he talked about people such as fiddler Jake Redekop, who died shortly after he interviewed him, and Paul Smith, the son of a homesteader, who also passed away after Humphrey became friends with him.
"You wouldn't believe the stories," he said, his voice trailing off as he wiped his eyes.
The film projects keep Humphrey focused on what's important in life, he said, how relationships with friends and neighbors trump the need to keep accumulating material things.
"Even if these videos never go anywhere, this is about being proud of where you came from," he said. "I want to do it before all of this stuff is gone."
Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by e-mail at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com