I was last in Billings in early July and, as usual, I immediately walked around Montana Avenue to see what was going on—doing that walk has been a tradition for me for over 40 years.
Do you remember what Montana Avenue was like in 1985–well here’s two views if you don’t recall, or were even around in 1985. It was a mix of second hand, rummage, stores, “antique” stores, flophouses, and an emerging galley scene, led by Toucan Gallery.
There was an oasis—the restored Rex Hotel, with one of the city’s best restaurants, and next door, the Rainbow Bar, an oasis of a far different type. Thankfully both businesses, with some changes, remain anchors to the district today.
On the opposite side of the street—despair. The imposing 1907 Northern Pacific Railroad depot was boarded up, forgotten and deteriorating. The reality was a puzzle to me because already in Great Falls and Missoula investors had restored and reopened historic Milwaukee Road depots. Why not Billings?
Five years later, 1990, it had gotten worse instead of better at the depot. When graffiti begins to mark a historic building the end is often near. On the other side of the street, however, new investment kept the historic buildings moving forward.
Changes were afoot at the McCormick Block where two adjacent one story 100 year old buildings had been torn away to create a parking lot.
And the district had a new east end, with the conversion of a 20th century building into the Coulson Bar. I loved the reference to the river town that was a precursor to Billings.
The 1990s was when the historic preservation movement transformed Montana Avenue. The Montana Avenue Historic District was listed in the National Register of Historic Places, thanks to the vision of property owners supported by the city and the State Historic Preservation Office and the work of Chere Jiusto.
When I next visited in 1998, I found the depot, finally, restored and serving as a new anchor.
The new courtyard at the Rex was quite the place to be and be seen. I even saw Hollywood stars there in 1998. the 21st resurgence of Montana Avenue was ready to begin.
How many of you used the Internet cafe at the McCormick Block? I did in 2000 when I took the image above.
Fast forward to July 2025. The once neglected district is a city downtown hub, hosting a street event and businesses booming. What a change from 1985.
A good bit of the historic machine shops (above) still operated in 1988. The depot and railroad offices still dominated the Merrill Avenue business district (below).
My favorite Merrill Avenue business was the wonderful Art Moderne style of the Luhaven Bar (below). You gots love the black carrera glass and glass block entrance.
But my favorite modernist building was the First National Bank, which was later converted to the town’s public library.
Next posting will include homes from the town’s residential district from the early 20th century to the mid-century as I continue a look back to the Yellowstone River and its towns in 1988.
I love Montana town signs, and Troy, deep in the state’s logging country, has one of the best. The sign lures to a city park nestled along the Kootenai River. The focus point is a
the Great Northern’s main line, and I documented the few historic buildings left facing the railroad tracks today. The Home Bar (c. 1914) and the Club Bar were institutions then, and remain so today. The Kootenai State Bank building still stands but has experienced a major change to its facade–made better in part by the American flag painted over some of the frame addition.
The Troy Jail, above, was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 2006 and it remains the only building so listed in the town today. D.E. Crissey, a local contractor, built it out of concrete in 1924 during Troy’s boom from 1916 to 1926 when its population jumped from 300 to 1300. The Snowstorm mine, which produced lead, zinc, and silver, started to serve the demand for raw materials during World War I. The mine soon turned what had been a small railroad town into a mining camp best known for its brothels and bars. Then in the early 1920s the Great Northern decided to build a division point here, further booming the town. The Sandpoint Pole and Lumber Company began its logging business in 1923, and Troy suddenly was the largest town in the county
Libby is the seat of Lincoln County, a typical railroad town along the historic Great Northern Railway corridor. The image above is from the town’s railroad depot, the symbolic beginning of town, from which runs a long main street of businesses, reflecting the T-plan town design, where the long railroad corridor defines the top of the T and the main street forms the stem of the T.
courthouse received a totally new front, in a contemporary style, in the 1970s as the town and county expanded in the wake of the federal spending in constructing Libby Dam. The rectangular blockiness, flat roof, and band of windows set within a symmetrical facade makes the courthouse one of the state’s best designs for a rural public building in the late 20th century.
I liked all of those things about Libby in 1984. Imagine my shock and disappointment to learn, as everyone else did, that Libby was one of the poisoned places in the west. In 1919, vermiculite, a natural material that contains asbestos, had been discovered outside of town, and the mines were still operating, producing 80 percent of the vermiculite in the world, under the control of the W.R. Grace company. Residue from the mines had been used in local yards and buildings for decades, a fact that was not known when I visited the town for the state historic preservation plan. When the discovery of the danger became public, and the federal Environmental Protection Agency entered into the fray in 1999, it was already too late for many residents. A federal Superfund project began, and did not conclude its work until 2015, spending some $425 million. Then in 2009 the Environmental Protection Agency announced a public health emergency, spending another $130 million to help residents and to leave a new health infrastructure in place. In a generation, Libby had been turned inside out. EPA announced in 2016 that the cleanup would continue to 2018, and that the project was the longest in the agency’s history.
Despite the disaster, I saw many signs that Libby residents were determined to remain and rebuild their community. One of the most powerful examples is the conversion of one of the town’s historic schools into a new community arts center as well as school administration offices.
The asbestos crisis was a terrible disaster for Libby–yet residents refused to let it define their future. There are past accomplishments to acknowledge, an active railroad depot to cherish, a beautiful river and lake, the mountains all around, as celebrated in this public art mural on a downtown building. This place is here to stay, and the historic built environment is a large part of it.
Montana's Historic Landscapes 