Editor's note: This poem is about the recent decision by Mark Reavis to take the ornate wooden doors that once adorned the historic St. Mary Church.

To: Dr. Seuss from the St. Mary’s Reunion Committee:

All the Whos in Butteville treasure our past

We honor our ancestors, and fates that were cast

For those on the hill, it was our neighbors and the mine

And the church was our focal point, a treasure, our shrine.


St. Mary’s Church was for many where faith had its start

It was more than a building, it captured your heart.

A place to worship, where those of faith came together

As with so many Butte treasures, we though it forever.

But soon the neighborhoods died, as mining encroached on their space

And little was left to remember and honor that place

A few mine frames, two tunnels, a bar and our shrine

They all stand with great stature, to remember a time.


And yet, someone whose job was to preserve history’s handiwork

Felt entitled to take the copper doors from our church, such a jerk

Without a bill of sale or a story that can be found true

He threw us all under the bus, and away with them he blew.

In the early morn hours, when no Butte Who had a clue,

The Grinch with his U-Haul drove to the Archives, with a crew

Demanding the treasured doors, he loaded up in a flash

Then heading for parts unknown, drove off with our stash.

So we ask you Dr. Seuss, as you ponder the season

What gain could be his, what could be the reason?

To leave a hole in the hearts of the many of us

Certainly he knows his legacy will always be thus.

To: St. Mary’s Reunion Committee from Sr. Seuss

The Grinch must hate Christmas, the whole Christmas season

Now please don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason

It could be that his head isn’t screwed on quite right

It could be perhaps that his shoes are too tight.

But I think the most likely reason of all

Maybe that his heart is two sizes too small.

-- Debbie Shea, Butte



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