Many knew my wife Billie as the owner of the Pan Handler, a kitchen supply store on Last Chance Gulch in Helena. Billie died after an 18-month battle with pancreatic cancer, the last of three different cancers in eight years. She met these challenges with amazing courage and grace, continuing to oversee the Pan Handler for as long as she could. She often described the Pan Handler as the best job she ever had.
Billie purchased The Pan Handler from Concetta Eckel after working there for a few years. An exceptional cook with a background in accounting and teaching math, she especially enjoyed sharing her skills with customers.
One story about her cooking really pleased her. We were backpacking in Glacier with another couple. While most people in the park boiled water and rehydrated a foil package for their meals, that wasn’t Billie’s style. She could produce a sumptuous meal most anywhere, even in the middle of the wilderness.
On this particular trip, Billie had decided to make a special Thai dish the first night. So beforehand, she sliced some onions, green and red bell peppers and slightly dehydrated them. With some added chicken strips, cooked and frozen ahead, plus some spices, bingo, good Thai food. She wrapped the frozen chicken in a couple of layers of clothes and packed them at the last minute, and the ingredients were thawed nicely by dinner.
As we began setting up for dinner, our friends and some other backpackers, a group of young men, were nearby. The young men were watching and whispering among themselves as they boiled water for their dehydrated packets. By now Billie was starting to cook the Thai dish, while we sipped the margaritas I had prepared.
The fragrance began wafting over the cooking area. (We were hoping that grizzlies weren’t interested in spicy Thai food!) Finally, one of the young men blurted out, “Who are you anyway, Martha Stewart of the Wilderness?” After a good laugh all around, I looked at Billie. She was quietly beaming. And “Martha Stewart of the Wilderness” was a sobriquet she carried proudly for the rest of her life.
Most everything Billie cooked was a success. There were, however, occasional mishaps. Several years ago, we booked a cottage at Big Sky to take the kids skiing for a few days. The first morning, Billie announced that breakfast was ready, and we sat down to eat. After finding some cinnamon and sugar in the cottage pantry, a treat of cinnamon toast was in order. I took a big bite of the toast. Ugh! It was terrible, and I spit it out. The bowl of “sugar” was actually salt. Billie apologized and admitted she should have tasted it first. And try as I could, I couldn’t convince the kids to try even a small bite. We laugh today about the time Mom made salted cinnamon toast.
After 52 years, so many happy memories, so many good stories. Billie was an involved member of the community, on the school board at the Montana City School and a small business owner. She was the most gracious and compassionate person I have ever known. The night she died, she told the nurse what she had said to many of us: She had a wonderful life and had no regrets. It was my honor and great fortune to have shared that life with her.
