Garnett Elizabeth Chrisman Garnett Elizabeth Chrisman, my mother, had a goal - live to be 100! This Saturday, January 24, 2026, would have been her 100th birthday. She was a woman born both before her time and after her time. She was fearless. She loved dogs and she loved me. She enjoyed telling people she should have been born in the previous century; living on a ranch in the mountains, with lots of trees, in a log cabin, cooking on a wood stove. At the same time, she tossed aside the societal expectations of a young woman in the 1950s, driving 1000 miles from home, husband and family in Illinois, to start a new life as a single mom of a four-year-old, in Jackson, Wyoming. She had visited there as a child and fallen in love with the Teton mountains. We lived there 11 years in a log home where she found great joy in chopping wood for the fireplace. She worked as a bookkeeper for a local CPA until bravely stepping out and starting her own business: an H&R Block office. After the construction of Teton Village, a large ski area west of town, the quaint, rustic charm of Jackson began to fade and we moved to Columbia Falls. A couple years prior, she had purchased a log cabin on a small lake "up the North Fork", 3 miles from the Canadian border as a summer place. It had been constructed decades earlier by a group of homesteaders to house "ladies of the night". Age, disuse and nature had left it in an unlivable condition. But she loved it. It took two summers of work: jacking up the leaning structure, replacing rotten logs (she loved peeling the new logs), new windows, a set of stairs... and finding a wood cook stove. For more than twenty years, she spent every summer there, finally giving it up after having a grizzly bear break-in and seeing a wolf stalk her schnauzer in the driveway. Some years later, a representative of the National Forest Service asked one of the remaining homesteaders for the name of that small lake. It had always been called Mud Lake, but he told the man, it was Garnet Lake. That is its name today. Mountains were her catnip. The Tetons followed by the peaks of Glacier Park drew her like a magnet as a place where she could relax and be at peace. We also visited Canada and in 1964, drove to Alaska. The trip there and back took three weeks and included not only my mother and I but also both of my grandmothers and our Scotty dog. We pulled a pop-up tent trailer. The Alcan Highway begins at Dawson Creek, British Columbia and ends in Alaska - about 1200 miles. In 1964, it was all gravel with very little development along its path. There were mile markers along the route and a book available for purchase which showed the locations of gas stations, motels, campgrounds, etc. We were forced to leave the trailer as it was being destroyed by the gravel and subsequently stayed in some interesting places: a meat cache accessed by a ladder and a motel with inside pit toilets. We returned home with a new passenger: a tiny husky puppy whom we named Toeklat - meaning sled dog. She never remarried. She bragged she got at least one proposal per year and in fact received two on our Alaska trip. She lived her life as an independent woman, who spoke her mind - even when she shouldn't. She is typically referred to as "unique" by those of us who loved her. Garnett didn't make it to 100. She died in her sleep July 18, 2019 - she was 93. She was in a nursing home at the time and looking back I am so grateful she missed Covid. I had visited the day before and she was able to hug her last schnauzer. She now relaxes in peace beneath a headstone carved like rugged mountains rising above the trees. Happy Birthday, Mom. Garnett Elizabeth Chrisman Garnett Elizabeth Chrisman , my mother , had a goal - live to be 100 ! This Saturday , January 24 , 2026 , would have been her 100th birthday . She was a woman born both before her time and after her time . She was fearless . She loved dogs and she loved me . She enjoyed telling people she should have been born in the previous century ; living on a ranch in the mountains , with lots of trees , in a log cabin , cooking on a wood stove . At the same time , she tossed aside the societal expectations of a young woman in the 1950s , driving 1000 miles from home , husband and family in Illinois , to start a new life as a single mom of a four - year - old , in Jackson , Wyoming . She had visited there as a child and fallen in love with the Teton mountains . We lived there 11 years in a log home where she found great joy in chopping wood for the fireplace . She worked as a bookkeeper for a local CPA until bravely stepping out and starting her own business : an H & R Block office . After the construction of Teton Village , a large ski area west of town , the quaint , rustic charm of Jackson began to fade and we moved to Columbia Falls . A couple years prior , she had purchased a log cabin on a small lake " up the North Fork " , 3 miles from the Canadian border as a summer place . It had been constructed decades earlier by a group of homesteaders to house " ladies of the night " . Age , disuse and nature had left it in an unlivable condition . But she loved it . It took two summers of work : jacking up the leaning structure , replacing rotten logs ( she loved peeling the new logs ) , new windows , a set of stairs ... and finding a wood cook stove . For more than twenty years , she spent every summer there , finally giving it up after having a grizzly bear break - in and seeing a wolf stalk her schnauzer in the driveway . Some years later , a representative of the National Forest Service asked one of the remaining homesteaders for the name of that small lake . It had always been called Mud Lake , but he told the man , it was Garnet Lake . That is its name today . Mountains were her catnip . The Tetons followed by the peaks of Glacier Park drew her like a magnet as a place where she could relax and be at peace . We also visited Canada and in 1964 , drove to Alaska . The trip there and back took three weeks and included not only my mother and I but also both of my grandmothers and our Scotty dog . We pulled a pop - up tent trailer . The Alcan Highway begins at Dawson Creek , British Columbia and ends in Alaska - about 1200 miles . In 1964 , it was all gravel with very little development along its path . There were mile markers along the route and a book available for purchase which showed the locations of gas stations , motels , campgrounds , etc. We were forced to leave the trailer as it was being destroyed by the gravel and subsequently stayed in some interesting places : a meat cache accessed by a ladder and a motel with inside pit toilets . We returned home with a new passenger : a tiny husky puppy whom we named Toeklat - meaning sled dog . She never remarried . She bragged she got at least one proposal per year and in fact received two on our Alaska trip . She lived her life as an independent woman , who spoke her mind - even when she shouldn't . She is typically referred to as " unique " by those of us who loved her . Garnett didn't make it to 100. She died in her sleep July 18 , 2019 - she was 93. She was in a nursing home at the time and looking back I am so grateful she missed Covid . I had visited the day before and she was able to hug her last schnauzer . She now relaxes in peace beneath a headstone carved like rugged mountains rising above the trees . Happy Birthday , Mom .