My father, John Holst wanted to write a book about his life. After he died, I found parts of a manuscript, notes, letters, photographs and much reference material. I put this puzzle together. He tells most of the story, but I add my comments or explanations. My husband Gordon and I crossed the country, following in his footsteps -- going down the old roads, interviewing relatives and local people, browsing in libraries and searching in museums. So, my father and I are writing this story. I am a white-haired old lady of 75 now, but I remember so clearly how I listened to his stories in front of our fireplace and as I grew up I became his typist for most of his writings. So I knew him well.

The first part of the book tells about life on a farm in Missouri as seen through the eyes of a young lad who loved every flower, tree and stream, but who dreamed of adventure and travel. He left his home when he was twenty and rode a freight train west, working along the way. In Idaho, he worked as a teacher, newspaper editor and gold miner. He was principal of the school in Gibbonsville and taught school in Salmon during the years 1901 to 1907. He spent his summers prospecting and mining in the gold fields in Idaho in 1902 to 1904. He then went to Montana and made many changes in the educational system in that state. After heading the School of Agriculture, Mechanical Arts and Home Economics of Montana State College, he left and went to work for the Indian Service in the Interior Department under Harold Ickes.

John Holst experienced a terrible cyclone, a hovering UFO on a mountainside, being lost in the mountains with no food, an encounter with a mountain lion, serious illness and love for many women. I grew even closer to my father as I wrote his story, and miss him still.

-Barbara