Montana oil and mining journal., 1937-06-12

We had always known MIR. Hubbard
on a business basis until just recently,
when we first learned OF the sOftness
of his big heart. He was the hale and
hearty type and hardly the one to be
sentimental.
If the personal reference can be for
given throughout this narrative, we can
relate that the writer plays a pipe or
gan for his own entertainment and
some months ago induAged I'm the lux
ury of the purchase of a Harmon cleo
trio organ, which was installed i'm a
suite above the Hubbard abstract office.
Although it Is played only after office
hours and late I'm the evening, MFR.
Hubbard heard the beautiful tones of
this remarkable instrument and came
up to see it. Here he spent many an
evening, requesting selections, ranging
from folk songs to the classics and
displaying an appreciation Of music
that had never been suspected of the
sometimes caustic '4Cal'' Hubbard.
His last visit was on the day he
decided to go ON the boat race. He
arrived at about 900 in the evening,
having heard the first notes Of the
organ.
'T hoped you would be here" he
said, adding that he wanted to hear
the organ again before he started on
the trip.
We expressed our pleasure at the
visit, aiding, ''what numbers would
You like TO hear tOnight?''
II have them written out he said
in his gruff manner. He produced
from his pocket fOolscap sheet of
paper. On it was typewritten, single
space, two full columns of old songs.
: II ran out of requests the last time,''
he explained with his broad smile.
Here is the list my boy Russell used
to play over the radio. III bet yOu
that You don't know all OF these"
1t is beside the point to tell how
the bet came out, but the imprOmtu
concert broke up at 2:2O a. m. AT
one point the program included some
old hymns. Hymns are Of course the
most beautiful music because they
carry with them precious and ufOr-
gettable memories. The writer re-
members the selections because of the
astonishing incident that followed
astonishing to one who did not know
the "Other side'' of Cal Hubbard.
First came 1.-THE Old Rugged Cross"
and then beautiful Isle of Some
where" This latter was the favOrite
hymn Of the writer's mother who has
long since passed on to that beautiful
isle. A myriad of voices of soft flutes
coming as from a great distance was
carrying the thoughts of the writer
back to boyhOod as the song progress
sed. The spell was broken by a
flicker of waving white, and the writer
with the corner of his eye caught sight
without pEteceptably IoOl1ng-of
Cal Hubbard hastily brushing tears
from his eyes.
"Cal" Hubbard crying over a song?
1t seemed impossible. Had he been
born century ago, he would have
been Daniel Boone or a rough Forty
miner, who would meet every situation
with laugh. Tt was so astonishing TO
the writer that while en- route to
Kevin-Sunburst oil field Wednesday
he was inspired to relate to a group
of friends this incident. When news
was received that evening i'm Shelby of
his passing, the group recalled that
their beloved friend and neighbor had
passed away at the exact moment
when this incident was being recited.
All the members of this organization
have felt the influence of Mr.. Hub
bard's counsel in our business affairs,
and although only a few Of our local
knew what his early advice
had meant to the organization, we are
sure that every member joins us, I'm
this expression of admiration together
with regret for the loss Of a true and
valuable friend.