Roadside frosties meant to bring smiles

In a beige metal building above Lakeside, the holiday spirit kicked in early.  

Ringleader Lois Lauman, in sandals and a navy sweatsuit splattered with white paint, greeted me earlier this fall. Volunteers Lisa Brewster and Judy Luce emerged from a forest of plywood forms wearing rubber gloves and holding paper plates with bright puddles of color. 

Lauman usually sets aside three weeks for painting new frosties and refurbishing old ones. This was the final painting day before the results headed out for installation last month along Lakeside’s U.S. 93 corridor and in Somers. 

Lauman's late husband, Dale, spent a year and a half in Alexandria, Virgina, for work decades ago. He saw the community spirit there engendered by decorating the town for holidays and wanted to bring the vibe to Montana.  

Together the Laumans aimed to create something special, fun and secular, and settled on snowmen, or “frosties.” They started in 1999 with about 25. “The first year, they were all alike,” Lauman said. “We scoured the Goodwills for real scarves to put around their necks.”  

It’s an all-volunteer operation, with about 50 people pitching in, including newer chief frosty wrangler Brenda Reiter and interim frosty landlord Rodney Olson, of the Lakeside County Water & Sewer District. 

Lauman said as she surveyed the works stacked up against the walls and drying on makeshift tables, “People don’t realize how much there is to it.” 

These days they have 160 frosties, with new ones annually added to the mix while others are retired. Scarves are painted on now, and every frosty is as individual as its painter.  

Some frosties are destined for specific perches. Lauman pointed at ones on an inner tube and a boat, which would go to the marina in Lakeside. She pointed to one in uniform and another with a patriotic theme destined for the post office.  

“We have more frosties than places to put them,” Lauman said. A few years ago, one absconded to Martin City but a volunteer spotted it and brought it back to the frosty fold. 

Most stay where they’re planted until takedown in February. 

I came in my paint clothes and hoped to help. Lauman pointed to one frosty in need of a refresh. She suggested fixing his broom, and pointed to his torso that she thought “needs something.” I dabbed blue dots on his green bowtie. Getting into the swing of it, I painted snowflakes on his mittens, first pressing my hand into that freshly painted tie. Still, Lauman looked him over and approved: “That perked him up.” 

Brewster focused on a frosty in the corner. Brushes stuck out of the back pocket of her Carhartts. Retired as administrative officer for Glacier National Park, she along with Luce were both painting for the first time. 

Luce leaned over a grandma frosty with wire-rim glasses and asked Lauman, “How about I give this one a smile?” Lauman said, “Let me do the nose first.” 

After detailing the process for how frosties develop from an 8-foot sheet of plywood, Lauman gave the upshot: “Dale said, ‘They’re a lot of work, but if someone smiles, it’s all worth it.” 

She said, “We need some happy faces.” 

Margaret E. Davis, executive director of the Northwest Montana History Museum, can be reached at mdavis@dailyinterlake.com.