Miguel Angel Bayala

Last call always comes too early on a Saturday night, and it did for sure on Saturday, September 11, 2021. Surrounded by those that loved him most, and at home, the world lost a great cook, master coquito maker, instant friend to all he met, loving dad, and amazing grandpa, Mike Bayala. Mike embodied fun and there wasn’t a story, situation, or experience that didn’t end with a good laugh, cold beer, or a custom invented solution. Mike lived a life few could imagine and his nearly 40 years in Dutton was the capstone to a life well-lived. Miguel Angel Bayala was born February 7, 1943, in Trujillo Alto, Puerto Rico. He started life early with what would become one of so many unbelievable stories as he raised and sold hogs as a young teenager to finance his airfare to New York City where he joined his parents and older siblings in the Bronx. Mike’s work ethic was second-to-none and he played as hard as he worked. Still a teenager in NYC, Mike found work in textile mills filled with workers from France and Italy. He waited weeks to engage with other workers on the factory floor and shocked everyone when it became clear he could understand and respond to conversations in both French and Italian. Mike maintained his mastery of Spanish throughout his life and loved that this language made it possible for him to understand other European languages too. Mike’s time in NYC saw a marriage to Margo Dumen and the birth of his oldest three children, Nilda “Cookie,” Miguel “Peto,” and Marlyn. Mike worked as a Yellow Cab taxi driver and house mover. He relocated a grand piano in a 100-story skyscraper that wouldn’t fit in the elevator and drove notable names to their Manhattan premiers but to him, everyone was pretty much the same. If you were up for a friendly conversation, good laugh, and left in a better mood than when you arrived, you likely had spent time with Mike Bayala. The 1970s saw Mike trade in his taxi medallion for a CDL as he hit the open road as a trucker for Allied Van Lines. Soon, trips through Montana were on his docket and as he racked up the interstate miles, he was winding down his relations back in New York City. Daughter, Michelle and son, Travis were born in the early 1980s as Mike left Allied, took a home-every-night job with Pacific Steel, and enrolled in night school at the University of Great Falls. He never waivered in his commitment to work hard, play hard, and love his kids. A trucking accident prompted Mike to find a different line of work and his true calling. Purchasing the Club Tavern in Dutton in 1987 proved to be Mike’s passion and the perfect marriage of his work ethic and ability to create a good time for all. Making a life in Montana was in Mike’s blood and he never tired of explaining how he ended up as the only Puerto Rican in Dutton. Mike spent those early years at the bar working both shifts, handling all the ordering, stocking, and raising Michelle and Travis. All the while, Mike was the personification of fun. There were no people or gatherings that weren’t welcome at the bar and, as a newcomer himself to a small town, Mike made sure that new patrons always felt welcome. Mike made instant friends with thousands of people over 34 years of owning the bar. Mike found his professional calling when he bought the bar and found his personal fulfillment when Patricia Daly arrived in Dutton in 1988. Mike and Pat quickly found their rhythm raising kids, running the bar, and making a life in the Wheat Center of Montana. He coached youth baseball, organized dart teams, played league pool, helped on various harvest crews, and hosted more bar parties and whole-hog roasts than the family can remember. Mike never met a stranger who he couldn’t strike up a conversation with. Whether in the checkout line at the grocery store, the other end of the bleacher row at one of Michelle or Travis’ games, or the far corner of any bar in the Golden Triangle, Mike had a story to share and a friend that had been made. Mike personified all that was fun in owning the bar while Pat carried the business acumen. Pat balanced the books, paid the taxes, and delivered the bad news to underperforming employees and drunks that had been 86’d. There wasn’t a physical or mental task that Mike wouldn’t take on without his signature Puerto Rican gusto. Mike loved the cowboy lifestyle and taught himself and his kids how to ride a horse. When Mike needed pasture for his horses, he found a wind-swept knoll west of town without water or shelter. He grabbed his shovel, tools, and scrap lumber and started construction. Friends and neighbors noted that no structure would stand for very long in that location. Thirty plus years later, Mike always smiled as he passed that little shelter, still standing, every time he drove to Choteau. He was a self-taught plumber, electrician, and master chef. The bar required that he learned these things but doing just-enough to get by wasn’t Mike’s mantra. Mike was likely the only person who understood how he wired a new outlet or replumbed a water line, but his work stood the test of time, and the completion of every task was celebrated with a cold beer and round for anyone who helped or stood around and watched the work take place. As time progressed, Mike and Pat’s marriage became the centerpiece of Mike’s life. Near the end, Mike thanked Pat every day for her love, help, and support. Mike and Pat sold the bar and retired in March of 2021. He soaked up warm summer drives to Stevensville in his last months to celebrate birthdays of grandkids, watching his granddaughter pitch for her softball team, quarter-ante Texas hold ‘em at the kitchen table (he never went easy on anyone no matter their age or skill), and spending time with the apple of his eye, Michelle. Carrying on Mike’s legacy are his daughters, Cookie and Marlyn in New York City; son, Peto in Philadelphia, PA; daughter, Michelle (Ben) in Stevensville; son, Travis and stepson, Tyler (Renee) both in Casper, WY. Holding Mike’s memory most closely is his wife of 30 years, Pat of Dutton; as well as his mother-in-law, Marge Carlson of Milton-Freewater, OR; a sister, Nereida in New York City; and a brother Raul in Oviedo, FL; eleven grandchildren; and many great-grandchildren live on with the memory of an amazing grandfather who loved to demonstrate 8-ball trick shots, taught them how to score cricket in darts, and let them pour an unmonitored amount of grenadine syrup in their Shirley Temples. Mike loved flowers but didn’t want them in his memory. He believed men should buy flowers for the women they loved and give them frequently without a reason to do so. The best way to memorialize Mike is to stop by any smalltown watering hole, get to know a new friend or two, and buy the bar a round before you leave, or grab your kids and grandkids and teach them how to play pinochle, double deck preferably. The family invites the community and friends to a graveside memorial service on Saturday, September 18, 2021, at 11:00 a.m. at the Dutton Cemetery celebrated by Fr. Gaspar Kyara followed by a luncheon at the American Legion Hall and one more round on Mike up at the bar after lunch.