Our family moved to Boulder in 1985. For my father, this was something of a homecoming: He had started life in Helena, the son of Luke and Mary Gabse, and had graduated from Cathedral High School. He was encouraged to follow his creative and artistic talents, which led him to Missoula, where he managed the Heidelhaus restaurant and owned and operated the Monk’s Cave, a rock and roll bar.
During his years in Missoula, he met and married my mother, Debbie; and their three children—Wolfgang, me, and Morgan—were born. After a short stay in Kalispell, we came to Boulder, where Mom began her career at Montana Developmental Center. Dad worked part-time in Helena, but much of his time was spent caring for his three young kids.
Dad was known for his many stories and was more than willing to bend the ears of his friends and family. A quick trip to the post office was only quick if he didn’t run into anyone or have a reason to go visit Postmaster Mike DuBois at the counter. He enjoyed engaging with the community when we kids were in school, whether he was in Barbara Patrick’s office to discuss how to help keep the kids on track or talking to the Paces while the yellow Ford idled on the corner of Monroe and Hauser.
