On the Wide Montana Prairie: Work and Family
A story about faith, family and resilience.
Recently I was fortunate to spend a day with a remarkable family on their farm out on the high prairie of central Montana. Julie and her husband bought a quarter section of grassland in 2021, chasing a shared dream of building a farm life rooted in family, faith, hard work, and open country. That dream was nearly shattered when Julie’s husband passed away in 2023.
Most people would have stepped back or stepped away. Julie didn’t. With faith, grit, and the steady help of eight of her nineteen children who were still at home, she kept going. They shifted their focus to raising sheep, tending chickens, growing a garden, and caring for a whole mix of other animals. They simply got to work—and kept working.
As a photographer, I meet a lot of people and hear a lot of stories. But I haven’t met anyone quite like the Hackmann’s of Belmont Springs Ranch. Their warmth and kindness was embracing from the moment I arrived. It quickly became clear to me that this family shared a bond with each other and to their land that is unique, reassuring and powerful. I was swept up into their world with feelings of comfort and a bit of awe mixed with envy.
The Hackmann’s created a home for the family and their animals on 160 aces of windblown prairie under the big sky.
Julie Hackmann’s focus on family evolved into a mission to raise “clean, natural, nourishing food for healing and health.”
Until the ranch is fully fenced, the family rotates grazing areas several times daily.
The rugged, wide open prairie and the extreme seasons of Montana can be uniquely challenging, harsh, and unforgiving. But this day was warm. The grass was greening up. Soft clouds drifted past and the sheep were content to feed.
There was one moment that has stayed with me. The whole family was out setting fence on a grassy rise in a far corner of the ranch. The wind—always present on the prairie—had settled into a soft, steady breath. The spring air smelled clean and alive. The family moved with the kind of ease that comes from doing the work that shapes their days and their character.
Standing there, immersed in the moment, I could feel the connection between the land and the family, the powerful sense of belonging they all shared. For a moment I understood this family. And I felt the weight of my camera in a different way—not as equipment, but as a reminder that this family opened their home and trusted me to tell their story with honesty and respect.
Hard work and a commitment to family. The Hackmann’s have a profound sense of family and purpose.
Sometimes I’m not sure whether I’m out looking for photographs or searching for stories. In the end, I’ve realized they’re really the same thing. Because I believe that stories shape and identify our human experience. Not numbers, statistics or currency. Stories can be told through music, art and the written word. Or, best of all, told around a campfire from one generation to the next. Stories can create understanding, connection, inspiration and growth.
So, I aspire to be a storyteller. Thanks for reading.
- Dave
Bottle feeding orphaned lambs.
Camera: Hasselblad X2DII 100C camera with a Hasselblad XCD 55mm f/2.5 V Lens.
