Rescue shows value of defibrillators
Gary Cockerill chose a fortuitous place to have a heart attack - both a nurse and an automatic external defibrillator were nearby.
When Cockerill collapsed May 2 at Grouse Mountain Lodge, nurse Crissy Weibert stepped in. Using the defibrillator on hand at the lodge, she managed to restart Cockerill's heart and save his life.
The lodge just acquired the life-saving equipment last fall, and Cockerill and his family are grateful that the investment paid off in such a big way.
In recent years, local health officials have urged businesses to install the automatic external defibrillators in public places. This recent rescue offers proof of the value of having the heart equipment handy.
While Weibert was indeed an "angel" in the Cockerill family's view, the defibrillators are designed to be used even by untrained people in the first critical minutes of a patient's heart trauma. We suspect there will be many similar stories in the future.
Last week, nearly 80 people received the first posthumous pardons in Montana history.
Their crime?
Speaking out against the government during World War I and thereby violating Montana's harsh anti-sedition law at the time.
Gov. Brian Schweitzer issued the pardons at the behest of a journalism professor and law students at the University of Montana who campaigned to clear the names of those imprisoned for sedition.
Those who fear the erosion of civil liberties today might take note of the more Draconian laws in the early 19th century, when you could go to prison for speaking ill of the government - even in a casual comment in a saloon.
The pardons won't undo the damage that the sedition law and its enforcement created, but they should re-emphasize to all of us how valuable are our rights to free speech.
Everybody likes to see a mystery solved. And that's what happened early this week, when a privately mustered search team located the remains of a Marine pilot whose jet crashed into Flathead Lake 46 years ago.
The remains of Capt. John Eaheart were located 275 feet beneath the surface of Flathead Lake, bringing some sense of "closure" or satisfaction to his surviving relatives and his one-time fiancee.
The Navy conducted a seven-day surface search after the crash, but that was about all that was practical in 1960. Eaheart's body was finally found with the help of advanced sonar equipment and a remote-operated, camera-equipped vehicle that was deployed on the lake bed.
It's good to know that the Korean War veteran was not forgotten.