Dutton-area farmer, carpenter, handyman and all-around good guy, Clyde Lee Lowery, 68, passed away Nov. 20 of cancer at Peace Hospice of Great Falls with both of his children by his side. Clyde was born in Great Falls on October 6, 1952, to Magdalen (Doheny) and James White “Slim” Lowery and raised on a farm near Collins. Clyde was the youngest of eight Lowery farm kids and part of a large Doheny family who homesteaded and then farmed for generations east of Collins. He and his brothers and sisters also spent large portions of their summers in the Benchmark area west of Augusta, where the family had a two-room Forest Service lease cabin. Clyde’s older siblings, including his sister Edith, also often brought their children – many of whom were close in age to Clyde. The whole pack of them spent their days playing in the forest and in the crick and creating their own “church” on Sundays. Their nights found them stacked up in the cabin reading comics and playing Chinese Checkers (Dee always won). Clyde always got the top bunk because as the littlest, if he fell off, he wouldn’t wake anyone up. So went one of the many stories he would tell his own kids and grandkids around the fire years later. Clyde was a natural storyteller and a talented artist and builder, and some of his best creations of all kinds -- including tales of Jesse James’ last battle in a small canyon near the cabin and an almost-famous giant rocking chair he built -- still circle that fire ring at the cabin and will for generations to come. Clyde attended the Doheny School for elementary and went to high school in Conrad. Although he didn’t go on to traditional college, he was always ready to tell you about all the other various colleges he attended: Cabin College, Whittling College, Whistling College, all of them. The truth is he had a brilliant mind and could teach himself how to do just about anything. When his dad died when he was a teenager, Clyde went all in to farm with his mom until his older brother Joe returned home to take over the place. In 1975, he married Julie Remington, a Great Falls girl he met when they were just teenagers, and who grew up in the same neighborhood as Clyde’s nieces and nephews. They bought a small farm near the county line from Althea Martin just to the northwest of the old Lowery place, a stone’s throw from his mother and brother and his family. There, he and Julie gave their two children, Courtney and Steve, what can only be described as an idyllic childhood, filled with wide-open spaces, enough freedom to get bored and enough chores to keep them grounded. Clyde grew wheat and barley and took in every stray or bum animal that crossed his path so eventually, the Lowerys also raised sheep, cows, pigs, a few rogue goats, and one always-almost-dead horse named Midnight. Clyde was there at every ball game, every recital, every concert, every play, and every community event. He thought every kid should know how to whistle and whittle and he was always ready to teach. He was a remarkable, doting father and grandfather and dedicated community member. The kitchen table at the Lowery house was regularly occupied by friends, family and neighbors, drinking coffee, swapping stories, and telling jokes. When you met Clyde, you were immediately an old friend. The Lowery house was that house and Clyde was that guy. Clyde loved a good project, especially one where he could involve his kids and grandkids, starting with rebuilding bikes, then graduating to motorcycles, then cars, then houses and tractors. He really could fix just about anything. So when he got out of farming full time in the early 2000s, he turned those skills into a job, helping everyone and anyone in the Golden Triangle with just about anything they needed. He also never missed a harvest, running the crew for Odden Farms near Dutton for years even after he stopped farming himself. Clyde was generous with his time and never met someone he couldn’t or wouldn’t help. For years, he took payment for his work in cookies, trades, and let’s just say he had enough wheat weavings to start a museum. He was the kind of guy neighbors and family called for help with all things, the guy who would stop to help a family whose trailer overturned on the Interstate. Then he’d offer to fix the trailer, put the family up for a few days, and hire them for odd jobs so they could get back on their feet. He will be remembered for his sly grin, his ready wave, his quick wit, his bailing twine belts, his peanut butter cookies and potato salad, and his big, generous heart. He was truly one of a kind. He is survived by his children, Steve (Renee) and their children, Sam and Burke Lowery of Cut Bank and Courtney (Jacob) and their children, Willa and Eli Cowgill of Power; sister, Dee Hurley of Alaska; and countless beloved nieces, nephews, cousins and other family members. He is preceded in death by his parents; and his siblings, Edith Fitch, Thomas Lowery, Mayce Niemotka, Betty Aukshun, James Lowery, and Joseph Lowery. Services are planned for this summer when it is safe to gather again, and his family is planning the kind of Dutton funeral and potluck Clyde would have wanted to go to. Afterward, there will be a trip to the cabin to scatter his ashes at his best place. Everyone is encouraged to wear their dressiest rope “belts” and greet everyone with “g’mornin’” no matter what the time of day. Memorials may be directed to any Dutton community causes or groups -- the Dutton American Legion, the cemetery, the Sunshine Trail Lodge or any community fund, or just buy a kid a cream soda sometime, or teach someone to whittle. Condolences for the family may be sent to the family in care of Schnider Funeral Home.