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 Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2015

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blogs

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Welcome to the Louis Kraft writing website. The goal is to explore where I’ve been and where I’m headed while entertaining you and updating you on the status of my life, events, and projects. The goal is to be loose and free while not preaching. As you see, there are a number of tabs (and information will change on them whenever appropriate) but this website will not be static, for I have control. It also has a blog (and if you followed me elsewhere you know that I’m open to discussing whatever catches my fancy). The blog entries will be categorized, and linked to specific categories that appear on the right side of the screen, for example: “Sand Creek POV” (“POV” stands for point of view), “Errol & Olivia,” “Navajo Blood,” “Wynkoop & Cheyennes,” and so on. Note that these categories won’t appear until there is a blog topic that is linked to them. There will also be Kraft categories for when I explore myself and the craziness of life or when I mix my writing with my life or when I just need to let off some steam. Nothing will be sacred on the blog … that is, unless it’s harmful to yours truly, or anyone else (living or dead). “Harmful” also includes racist prose, which will not be tolerated. Comments may be added by clicking the comment image to the right of each post. Note that you will no longer need an ID and a password. As of now all you’ll need will be an email address and your name.

— Louis Kraft

Olivia de Havilland, a world treasure

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2015

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog

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I recently heard from a good source that Olivia de Havilland had become frail and spent time in and out of the hospital. But what is frail? … Although I admit that “frail” can be of major importance to all of us, everything is a matter of degrees and all of us are different. As far as hospital visits go, I’ve had 12 operations and I’m still enjoying walking on our earth. Just so everyone knows I’m slow with everything that I write, and this blog is no exception. Sometimes this agitates and angers some of the people that I work with (I’m not talking about my key editors, Chuck Rankin at OU Press or Greg Lalire at Wild West magazine). Hey, this is just how I am—a slow writer so accept it. Two days ago a talented artist, singer/musician, Errol Flynn expert, but most important a good friend named Robert Florczak sent me a link to an interview/article on Ms. de Havilland that went live on January 29 (Entertainment Weekly interviews Olivia de Havilland). This article/interview with Ms. de Havilland left me with the following: She is still active, very positive, and is looking forward to her 100th birthday in 2016.

As Olivia turns 99 years young on July 1, 2015, I want to say some words about this special lady, … this special lady who has kindly shared a small part of her life with me over the years.

Olivia’s Elizabeth Bacon Custer & Errol Flynn’s George Armstrong Custer

As a boy I saw They Died with Their Boots On (Warner Bros., 1941), wherein she played Elizabeth Bacon Custer (“Libbie,” and this is the correct spelling of her nickname) and Errol Flynn played George Armstrong Custer. This film, which has been ripped for historical accuracy, grabbed my interest and never let go. Not to this day. It started me reading about Custer and his Libbie: First young reader books, then biographies, and eventually primary source material in print form or on microfilm. This film all by itself eventually led me to writing and speaking about the American Indian wars.

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A Spanish mini poster for They Died with Their Boots On. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

Olivia, or “Livvie,” became my favorite actress and Flynn became my favorite actor. I will deal with their acting and life and times during their working years together in Errol & Olivia. If you follow me on other social media you know that this book is moving toward becoming my primary writing project. There is a reason for the extended length of time I take to write nonfiction books. Mainly that I must know what I’m going to write about before I write it, and most of the information that I use comes from primary source material. These searches are exhausting, but mandatory for me to complete any nonfiction books.

Livvie and Flynn are still my favorite actors, although there are modern actors that have given performances that have grabbed me and won’t let go no matter how often I study these films. Yes, that’s right, “study.” But also enjoy, and if the “enjoy” fades away it raises the question of why? Why does a film no longer hold up against the test of time? Only a few modern actors—less than five—have more than two films that I bother to view more than once or twice.

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This kissing scene between Olivia de Havilland’s Elizabeth Bacon (before she married GAC) and Errol Flynn’s George Armstrong Custer will be featured in Errol & Olivia (Louis Kraft personal collection)

Back to They Died with Their Boots On, and the lack of historical accuracy. I’m going to say two things about this: 1) Warner Bros. feared lawsuits in 1941, and because of this real participants in the Custers’ lives were dropped from the film and historical events were fictionalized to protect the studio. 2) Go back to the primary source information on Custer (and there is a massive amount available to those who really do research) and also read the three books that Libbie Custer wrote about her time on the frontier during her marriage to George Custer. Match what you find (and trust me, this will take time to find and digest it) and then watch the film again. You will be amazed. I’ve discussed this in print on several occasions and I have spoken about it numerous times.

Enough said, other than to say that They Died with Their Boots On has given us Olivia’s and Flynn’s best performances together. It was also their last, but that only came to be because of future events (which will also be dealt with in Errol & Olivia).

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I can’t speak for Bob Utley or Paul Hutton or anyone else who had been influenced by this film (and I know a lot of people that have been), but for me the film grabbed me when Olivia’s Libbie and Flynn’s Custer relocated to the frontier. Actually, it started when Flynn’s Custer stood up to the fictional Senator Sharp and his son Ned Sharp, and when Olivia’s Libbie accepts that they won’t become rich. This image of Olivia and Flynn is on the porch outside their quarters at Fort Lincoln, Dakota Territory, and it easily symbolizes both the real and the fictional General and Mrs. Custer. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

Before moving from Olivia’s Libbie and Flynn’s Custer let me say this. The film not only influenced my future but it has also influenced friends and Indian wars historians Robert M. Utley and Paul Andrew Hutton (among others) big time. Paul Hutton has said in print and to me personally that he fell in love with Olivia the first time he saw her play Libbie Custer, and that this has never changed for him. In his memoir (Custer and Me: A Historian’s Memoir. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2004, page 8), Bob Utley wrote: “Flynn and de Havilland seared themselves into my mind’s eye, planted themselves deeply in my psyche, and treated me repeatedly to the thrilling denouement of the Last Stand.1 … For in 1942, especially in the climate of military celebration created by World War II, I found my obsession.” Livvie and Flynn’s performances led to his long career in the U.S. National Park Service (where I believe Bob retired as chief historian). No matter, for his long list of first-class books dealing with the Indian wars has been inspirational for many would-be historians over the decades.

1 For those of you that don’t know, George Armstrong Custer died during the Battle of the Little Bighorn in Montana Territory on June 25, 1876, when he and his regiment attacked a Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho village. This was the greatest victory of the Plains Indians against the white invasion of their lands, but it also marked the end of their days of freedom for like the defeat of the Alamo in 1836, the attack on Peal Harbor in 1941, and the heinous murder of over 3000 U.S. citizens on September 11, 2001, it would resonate as a rallying cry.

An introduction into Ms. de Havilland’s world

In 1995 my book, Custer and the Cheyenne: George Armstrong Custer’s Winter Campaign on the Southern Plains was published (El Segundo, Ca.: Upton and Sons). That June I spoke about Custer riding into Cheyenne chief and mystic Stone Forehead’s village in the Texas Panhandle to discuss ending war in March 1869 in Amarillo, Texas, which is the subject of the Custer book.

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Errol Flynn as George Armstrong Custer and what I consider the quintessential portrait of the real Custer by Matthew Brady and Company in 1864. Flynn’s Custer is about to set out from Fort Abraham Lincoln in Dakota Territory on May 17, 1876, for what would become his final Indian campaign. The real Custer died at the Battle of the Little Bighorn a little over a month later, on June 25. (photos in Louis Kraft personal collection)

During the convention several busses transported us to the Washita River, where Custer’s 7th Cavalry attacked a Cheyenne village, and although many people died, Custer did what he could to prevent the wanton murder of women and children. This site, now the Washita Battlefield National Historic Site, was then on private property. During a stop for lunch, my daughter Marissa and I ate with an historian/professor named Eric Niderost. Just an introduction, but Eric followed up and our brief time together would lead to a long-time friendship that thrives to this day.

In 1995 I decided to write a book about Errol Flynn. Eric knew this. He also had Olivia de Havilland’s address in Paris, France, which has been her home since the 1950s, and in 1996 asked if I’d like to have it. Would I! That year I began writing Ms. de Havilland letters of introduction with absolutely no response. After three or four letters, and many months (a year?) passed I realized that I wasn’t proceeding in a good way.

OdeH&libbieCusterCollage_wsI decided to turn on my charm (I know, I know, since when has Kraft had charm?), and I began sending the lady birthday cards and Christmas cards and gifts. Time passed, but eventually my “charm” and long-distance wooing wore the lady down and she responded. Without going back to check I believe she may have answered a question or two. The correspondence continued into the new century, but I must say that Olivia cherry-picked the questions she would answer. The others she flat-out ignored. I am a gentleman and I never brought up the subject of sex and or love. She would do this for me and in so doing shot holes through bullshit books that create fiction and sell it as fact (sorry, but this is for Errol & Olivia).

Sometime in the late 1990s I agreed to write an article for Persimmon Hill that dealt with They Died with Their Boots On, and questions became specific to this film. From this time forward I would read, and eventually listen to and see, Ms. de Havilland’s view on events surrounding this film change, for suddenly what I had brought up took hold within her and created a life of its own.

Errol & Olivia becomes reality

During these early years of our communication I realized that like the biography of Lt. Charles Gatewood and his participation in the Apache wars that I had been writing since 1995 needed something else. In Gatewood’s case the book needed the Bedonkohe Apache mystic and war leader Geronimo. The Flynn book needed Olivia de Havilland, and sometime in the late 1990s Errol & Olivia became reality.

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I like the art used on this 1979  American Classic Screen magazine cover. At first I didn’t, but it has grown on me. … I already know what image I want on the cover of Errol & Olivia. Will I or the publisher be able to obtain usage rights? I don’t know. If not, we’ll move to plan B, which isn’t in place at the moment. There is a good possibility that if the original art for this cover can be tracked down that it might be included in plan B, but only if I think that the book title and the author credit won’t hurt the artwork. … I’m sorry, for if you don’t know of Ms. de Havilland and Mr. Flynn’s acting careers, this film, Captain Blood (Warner Bros.-First National Pictures, 1935), made them stars overnight. My favorite scene is the slave auction wherein Olivia’s Arabella Bishop purchases an innocent man, Flynn’s Dr. Peter Blood, who has been convicted of treason in England and shipped to Jamaica where he’ll spend the rest of his life in bondage. Flynn’s Blood would escape and become the most infamous pirate in the Caribbean Sea. Warner Bros. quickly realized that the film-going public fell in love with these young actors and smartly teamed them again and again. Their film relationship has since grown to legendary proportions.

I need to say something here, I take my time with research and a book isn’t completed until I think I have enough information for the book to be published. Olivia de Havilland and Errol Flynn fans have been pounding me for years on when will the book be published. Add to that, Olivia hasn’t been too pleased with my slowness. Let me say this, I began researching and writing a book on Ned Wynkoop in 1985; the book, Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek was published in 2011 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press). I don’t have all the answers on Olivia de Havilland or Errol Flynn for what I need to make Errol & Olivia shine. Until I answer what I consider mandatory questions the book is in the works. That said, Errol & Olivia will be my prime book after Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway is published (and for the record I have been researching Sand Creek since 1985). I don’t create history like some unscrupulous writer/historians, who do everything to dupe their readers and create hateful, and sometimes racist nonfiction, that is not accurate or truthful. Some of their words are little more than piss-poor fiction. BTW, this will be an upcoming blog.

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Louis Kraft talking about the Santa Fe Trail (Warner Bros., 1940) film premier in Santa Fe, N. Mex., in the Western Writers of America tent at the Festival of the West in Scottsdale, Ariz., on 19mar2005. When I gave the talk I realized that I had gold—pure gold. Luckily the talk wasn’t taped (actually I hate saying that, for that means it is lost to time). Regarding this talk, which I consider my favorite, I retired it before I drove home. Usually if I like a talk it continues to live. Not this time, for the talk had to be reworked to fit into Errol & Olivia (I realized that it would become a featured piece in the manuscript). (photo by my good friend and great writer Johnny Boggs)

Errol & Olivia means a lot to me, and I absolutely refuse to write about something that I can’t confirm. End of story. Everyone who reads my writing knows that patience is key. … For the record I have stopped writing for the software world (since 2012), which means two things: 1) I have turned my back on paydays that would make you sick (read I now count pennies), and 2) I have stopped delivering talks across the U.S. unless I receive my full salary and all expenses (talks cost me a lot of time; their absence has freed up a lot of time for books). I will probably sell a few articles in the coming years, but they (and the photos/artwork) are for pay (which is now needed). My focus are my books. Trust me, and actually bet on the books becoming reality for they will. I work seven days a week, and I don’t have to put in fifty or sixty hours per week plus two+ hours of driving time per day before I go to work on my projects. I now write for me and my reading pubic.

Ladies and gentlemen, sometime in the future that isn’t as distant as you might believe, you will have the opportunity to read Errol & Olivia. Trust me, for the future is closing in on joining hands with reality.

Years passed and my communication with Olivia continued. I realized that to keep our long-distance relationship alive I needed to throw something new into the mix. What? And then it hit me: My daughter Marissa. Believe it or not, this proved to be brilliant on my part.

An invitation by Olivia

In 2002 Olivia invited my daughter Marissa and I to visit her in 2003. I immediately wrote back that we’d love to meet her. No reply, absolutely no reply. In 2003 I realized that I needed an operation If I wanted to continue walking the earth (actually there would be a follow-up operation four and a half months later that played a major role in me actually  “walking”). By April 2003 flying to France ceased to be an objective and I forgot about the visit.

But then in fall 2003 Olivia sent me a letter scolding me for not visiting during the previous summer. I quickly replied and we set the date for 2004. As the date neared and with all preparation in place we shared phone numbers. Ms. de Havilland told me that she preferred that I speak with her secretary as her hearing on the phone wasn’t the best, and we set the visit during a 16-day trip to France. At that time Marissa was studying art and her favorites were Claude Monet and Vincent van Gogh. Paris has a wealth of great art museums. We would see them and track van Gogh and Monet.

mk&MonetGarden_collage_wsIn Olivia’s last communication to me before our flight to France, she wrote: “You are bringing Marissa, aren’t you?” I quickly responded with a short missive. “Yes, ma’am.”

I didn’t know what to expect in France. Heck, I had heard that a lot of the French hate the Americans and that we’d be treated badly. Really? Only once in two prolonged trips to France did I encounter anything like this, and those words were spat at me by an ancient women bent over her cane as we walked past her (can’t remember the name of the town). We’re not going to talk about Paris or France here, but I will say this: I would gladly move to France (even with the hateful crimes that are currently taking the lives of innocent people) as I love Paris and all of the outlying cities and towns that I have visited. Alas, I believe that it is too expensive and my car of choice would hate the French, for they, and certainly in Paris, have a habit of bouncing off the car in front and then the car in the rear when Parisians attempt to parallel park (they perform this process in reverse when exiting the parking spot).

We stayed in a five-star hotel across the street from the French congress named the Meridian, and it was walking distance to Olivia’s home (which is similar to a brownstone in the eastern United States). A day before our visit I walked from the hotel to Olivia’s home as I wanted to take a few photos of it, and more important I wanted to know exactly where it was located. I always enjoy walking in Paris.

A 2004 visit with Olivia de Havilland

(My 35 mm Canon camera went belly up.)

On June 29 the Meridian Hotel called a taxi for Marissa and I. I was loaded down with gifts including flowers, and paper and pens as Olivia didn’t want me to record the interview(s). On this day, Olivia’s then assistant, Laura, joined us in the garden and this made for a nice foursome. Marissa and I sat on each side of Olivia and Laura sat across from her. Fidel, her manservant, served champagne, which Olivia likes.

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Marissa took this image of me at Musée Louvre in Paris on July 1, 2004, two days after we visited with Olivia de Havilland. (photo © Louis & Marissa Kraft 2004)

After the introductions we moved to small talk as Olivia looked at and enjoyed her gifts. She does have a lot of my writing from books to plays to articles. I know she’s read some of the material for her comments are such that she had to be familiar with the subject matter. My reason went beyond egotism or anything like this; what I wanted was for her to know that I knew how to create biographies, knew how to research, and could write (it’s shocking that many so-called writers can’t write).

I always go into an interview prepared with questions, and almost always move away from them and go with the flow of where the conversation leads. I prefer this approach as I’m interested learning what I can of the person I’m interviewing and this allows the conversation to move in directions that are of interest to them.

I should say this up front, Olivia is a marvelous hostess. She is open, kind, and attentive. Marissa was fighting perhaps the beginning of a cold and Olivia provided her with medications that could stop what might happen before it did. The pills worked. Olivia also made a point of pulling Marissa into the conversation.

Certainly I did have more questions about her portrayal of Libbie Custer and of the film being the last that she did with Errol Flynn. We spent a long time on this and later that night Olivia returned to it. And clearly her view had begun to change (and even more so than questions she had answered regarding the film years back). What I observed and what has been printed and placed on film is in conflict with the facts. That said, this film was as alive for Olivia de Havilland on that June day in 2004 as it had been for her in 1941. Actually this day appeared to do wonders for the attraction and perhaps love that she and Flynn felt for each other off and on during their working relationship. Alas, events, constantly blocked anything from happening between them. As she later and rightly stated a relationship between them would have ruined her (this is a paraphrase) and I believe this. … All of this said, the love for Errol Flynn that I saw in Olivia de Havilland’s eyes that June 29 was unmistakable.

Fidel positioned himself just inside the house and peeked through the curtains of the French door. When one of us sipped champagne he magically appeared and filled the glass. At one point Olivia asked Marissa why she hadn’t tried the champagne. Shy but not wanting to offend, Marissa lifted the glass to her lips and wet her tongue (and Castro refilled her glass). Although Marissa never said it, Olivia realized that she didn’t drink.

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The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex is based upon Maxwell Anderson’s 1930 verse play “Elizabeth the Queen.” The character of Penelope Gray, a fictional character, was also in Anderson’s play. Although the original art is stored at the moment I need to dig up artist Goulet’s first name. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

One of the gifts I gave Olivia that June 29 was a painting of her as Lady Penelope Gray in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (Warner Bros., 1939). She knew immediately who she portrayed in the image and was delighted with it. I’m not going to go into details about the film or the difficulties Olivia struggled through during filming other than to say it has a great backstory. I will say this, she was vibrant and alive in her scenes and I think delivered the best performance in the film. Errol & Olivia will deal with the making of this film and Olivia’s and Flynn’s lives at this time. … And with The Adventures of Robin Hood (Warner Bros., 1938), the late thirties set in motion changes to their careers and lives, changes that had actually begun when Captain Blood (Warner Bros.-First National Pictures, 1935) became an instant hit at the box office, changes that would be firmly in place before the end of 1944. These changes would affect the rest of Olivia’s and Flynn’s lives.

Since the late author Charles Higham played high and loose with facts in two books of importance to Olivia, Sisters: The Story of Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine (New York: Coward-McCann, Inc., 1984) and Errol Flynn: The Untold Story (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1980) I attempted to get her to comment on stated events (these were included on my list of questions). I had requested information about Higham’s accuracy in the past through the mail and she wrote one comment: “Charles Higham is an unscrupulous man.” Olivia remained firm; she would not talk about Higham or his inflammatory accusations that had no basis in fact. “Charles Higham never contacted me, not once,” Olivia said (this is a paraphrase as the interview is safely stored). My interviews with Olivia will be made available in the Louis Kraft Collection at the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library, New Mexico History Museum, Santa Fe, New Mexico, after Errol & Olivia is published.

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Olivia de Havilland with Mary Jane Ward, author of the semi-autobiographical best selling novel The Snake Pit (New York: Random House, 1946) before principle filming began. It appears that they are looking at a draft of the script for the film. A hardbound copy of The Snake Pit with a battered dust jacket is under the script. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

On more of a positive note, Olivia asked me which of her performances did I like the best. I told her that I thought her best performance was as Virginia Cunningham in The Snake Pit (20th Century Fox, 1948). Her performance is extraordinary as she struggles with fears and doubts that have torn apart her married life and led to her confinement in a mental institution wherein psychiatric care is at times less than humane. Olivia smiled and informed me that it was her favorite role.

Before the evening ended we moved away from Flynn and Olivia’s film world, replacing it with world politics and a little digging into her life. Olivia shied away from her personal life before Hollywood and of her sister, actress Joan Fontaine’s autobiography, No Bed of Roses (New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1978).

At this time of the year it remains light in Paris until about 10:00 PM, and it was close to or just after midnight when Marissa and I hugged Olivia goodbye (and I kissed her on the cheek).

An invitation to Olivia’s big night in 2006

In 2006 I wrote for the now dead company Sun Microsystems. That January my sister, Linda Kraft-Morgon, informed me that she had six weeks left to live. My then manager, Sudeshna Ghosh, did one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me—she allowed me to come into the office early two to three times per week, drive to Lake Arrowhead to spend two or three hours with my sister, and drive back to the office to work into the night. That gave me four to five days of seeing my sister each week until the end. During the drives up the mountain headaches began to pound. They became so bad that often I had to pull to the side of the road and wait for them to pass and still they affected me once I arrived. I thought that this was just stress.

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January 15, 2006, was a day that I’ll never forget. Linda and her husband Greg were supposed to come to Tujunga House for Christmas and her birthday (December 24) but I was under the weather and Linda’s immune system could not be put at risk. On this day we celebrated the birth of Christ and her last BD. it was a special day for me. It was also the first day of the few I still had to capture my last memories of her in a handful of stolen hours. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

But after my sister’s death on March 1 the headaches didn’t go away; in fact they increased and this included at lower altitudes. … In April I had sinus surgery that included some nasty things and required two weeks recovery with follow-ups with the surgeon.

Just before the surgery I learned that the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills, California, planned to honor Olivia de Havilland in June. Wonderful news, and long overdue for the two-time Academy Award winner.

One of her nominations was for The Snake Pit (20th Century Fox, 1948),
a film in which she should have won the Oscar as her portrayal
as Virginia Cunningham is extraordinary. I have strong views about
how award winners are selected and for the most part my
views are a little less than laudatory
(I hope that the hint of sarcasm
shines through here). I was thrilled for her, and that was that
for I had no intention of asking for an invitation.

My then girlfriend and her son took care of me at their home during the two weeks of recovery. When I finally returned home I had a massive amount of emails and phone messages requesting  and then demanding invitations to Olivia’s June event. In one particular case a professor and Errol Flynn historian who had become a decent long-distant confidant in all subjects related to Flynn and to a lesser degree Olivia. The messages turned angry and then bitter and sarcastic. I emailed him, saying that I was away and recovering from an operation and that I had no plans to ask for myself or anyone else. “Give me de Havilland’s address and/or phone number!” he demanded. “No!” “Why the bleep not?” “I promised Olivia that I wouldn’t share her private information and I’m not going to share it.” “What about doing this for Deidre Flynn [Flynn’s oldest daughter]; hell, you worked with her?” “I already told you what I’m not going to do.” “You’re no f—ing friend!” “It seems to me that you aren’t either.”

I thought about it and recontacted the professor, who was a good writer and he had certainly done a lot of great research on Flynn. He had one problem; he couldn’t stop polishing his Flynn manuscript that he had told me he had finished writing four or five years before; that is roughly at the time we came in contact with each other. In the email I told him that I would forward Deidre’s information to Olivia if he supplied me with it. He did and I did.

But the relationship had ended. People wonder why I shy away from close relationships with writer/historians who write about the same subjects as I. Well, you’ve just seen one example of why. … Don’t get me wrong, for I’ve got some great writer/historian friends in this small world of Olivia de Havilland and Errol Flynn (Robert Florczak, David DeWitt, and Thomas McNulty to name three) and I certainly have more good friends in my Indian wars world.

Weeks later a surprise arrived in the mail. Olivia had secured an invitation for me to attend her event at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

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On the left is the invitation to the tribute honoring Olivia de Havilland. On the right is the cover of the invitation (actually the black and gray border opens to reveal a larger image of Livvie). … Ms. de Havilland, thank you again for inviting me to your special night. I enjoyed every minute of the event.

 A lady is honored

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lk soon after entering the main lobby of the Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences building in Beverly Hills on 15jun2006. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

On the early evening of June 15, 2006, the sidewalk in front of the Academy of Motion Arts and Sciences on Wilshire Boulevard was crowded with people dressed in gowns and suits, and in one case a tuxedo. While my then girlfriend and I waited I saw the professor/historian in the crowd. Deidre Flynn accompanied him. He looked as he did in pictures that I had seen of him, but I didn’t look as I did on the dust jacket of Lt. Charles Gatewood & His Apache Wars Memoir (University of Nebraska Press, 2005), which he had. The doors opened at a quarter to seven in the evening. Immediately the large lobby bubbled with excitement as the guests mingled and chatted. Caterers brought out platters of absolutely magnificent food. There was an open bar. The Academy had gone all out for Olivia de Havilland’s night of honor.

My girlfriend ate with me, but then wandered as she snapped photographs with a cell phone. I drifted about as I enjoyed a glass of wine only to halt. Before me stood Patrice Wymore Flynn. She sipped wine and nibbled. I watched her for a moment, but then stepped forward and began talking with her. After about 10 minutes she looked at me quizzically. “You don’t know who I am,” she said. “Yes I do, Mrs. Flynn.” She liked that and the conversation continued. During the course of the night we spoke several more times. I liked her. My girlfriend caught some candids of our initial meeting.

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The top of this collage is of Patrice Wymore Flynn and Louis Kraft shortly after we met for the first time. As you can see in the image Pat is moving, and so is lk (but not as quickly). It is actually a color photo, but I thought it would work better here as a grayscale image. Later the professor/historian Lincoln Hurst and I got together. Pat joined us and we had a great roundabout conversation. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

For additional thoughts about Patrice Wymore Flynn, see Classy lady Patrice Wymore Flynn dies + a Sand Creek “thank you”.

Later I saw the professor/historian chatting with Robert Osborne, the primary host of Turner Classic Movies. I joined them and introduced myself. Osborne was polite while Lincoln Hurst was taken by surprise. Soon Osborne excused himself and Hurst and I spent a good part of the rest of the evening together. Neither of us mentioned the past April, and it was almost as if we were long-time friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. I enjoyed hanging out with him. My girlfriend captured some pictures, and then more when Pat Wymore Flynn joined us.

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About an hour after the doors opened at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Olivia de Havilland made her entry and greeted the crowd. (image © Louis Kraft 2006)

Olivia arrived with a bunch of gentlemen in suits, none of whom I recognized. Soon after the Academy set her up in a room to greet those she had placed on a list. My girlfriend and I got into the line. When we reached the front of it one of the two wanna-be football players asked for my name. I gave it to him. “You’re not on the list.” “Take another look.” He did. “You’re not of the list.” I spelled my name and he looked again. “You’re not on the list.” Could the SOB read? Trying to control my anger I said: “Look, I don’t know anyone here and the only reason I’m here is because Olivia de Havilland invited me.” “You’re not on the list. Step out of the line!” I peered beyond him and could see Olivia greeting people. “Why don’t you trot over to Ms. de Havilland and ask her if I’m on the list.” Surprisingly he did. “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Kraft,” he said when he returned to me. “You are on the list.”

When it was our turn to be with Olivia, I went down on one knee and kissed her hand as my girlfriend hovered nearby. “She’s gorgeous,” Olivia whispered into my ear, and she was. These minutes passed quickly, so quickly that I can’t remember what we talked about (I wrote notes of the event, so hopefully I jotted information about our brief time together—I need to check).

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After kissing Olivia de Havilland’s hand I introduced her to my then girlfriend. (photo courtesy of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

Pat Wymore Flynn and Deidre Flynn had been in front of us in the line and they remained in the room after spending time with Olivia. I joined them. By this time Pat and I had hit it off and enjoyed each other’s company. I had worked with Deidre on a miniseries called Robert Kennedy and His Times back in 1983 or 1984. We had been polite to each other, but at that time she was dealing with a god-awful miniseries about her father (she refused to work for the company) and I gave her room. She had no idea I even knew who her father was. I had heard that her sister, Rory, attended the event but I didn’t see her.

Later Lincoln Hurst, my girlfriend, and I hung out together. An announcement proclaimed that it was time for the event to begin. He excused himself but then soon rejoined us. He couldn’t find Deidre and assumed that she was with Pat. The three of us sat together during the rest of the evening. I had an absolutely terrific time with him. Alas, that was it. I never saw him again, I never had contact with him again, and unfortunately he died a little over two years later. His book on Flynn was never published. This is a shame for I think it would have been a first-class book.

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A portrait of Olivia de Havilland, Louis Kraft, and his former girlfriend on the evening of 15jun2006. (photo courtesy of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

Robert Osborne served as host for the event (he may have been Olivia’s choice for she had told me that he was a good friend). Without checking notes (which are in a secure location) I can’t remember if the question and answer portion of the evening was first or the film clips. Regardless of my memory, Olivia walked down the long walkway from the rear of the theater to the stage and sat with Osborne. BTW, the theater was filled. Olivia and Osborne chatted, and I’m certain that the questions came first. Although she obviously got along well with Osborne, the questions had been pre-selected for Olivia did not have to dig into her memory to answer them.

I believe the event was filmed. I hope so, but if yes, I’ve never seen it. I should check.

On this night, or soon after, Olivia gave me an open invitation. “If ever you are again in Paris, let me know so that I can invite you to visit.” These words lived with me for the next two and a half years.

A 2009 visit with Olivia de Havilland

In spring 2009 I contacted Olivia and informed her that I planned a trip to France and England. As she had offered in 2006 she invited me to visit, that we’d agree upon a date once I knew the dates of my time in Paris. The lady that Olivia had met in 2006 accompanied me.

Before leaving for Europe a writer contacted me via email and asked if I could put in a good word for him. He had written a coffee table book that dealt with Flynn and others. He explained that he had sent his book to Olivia and hoped to visit her since he was also writing a book about her and Flynn. I had already heard this and agreed to do what I could to help him in a return email.

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Olivia de Havilland and Louis Kraft chatted while she opened her birthday card and looked at her gifts. That is the champagne bottle on the table but unfortunately we can’t see the label. The book is an anthology called Custer and His Times, Book Five (Cordova, TN: Little Big Horn Associates, Inc., 2008). It contains an article of mine, “Ned Wynkoop’s Lonely Walk Between the Races.” John P. Hart is the editor, and it is an excellent publication. (photo © Louis Kraft 2009)

On July 3 my former girlfriend and I arrived at Olivia’s home after a taxi drive across the city of Paris. Her current assistant, Emily, greeted us at the door (Fidel wasn’t present). She would spend some time with us, but also took care of other business including a meal which was similar to my first visit (finger food that was tasty and easy to eat without interrupting Olivia’s and my time together). As it was just two days past her birthday her gifts (other than the usual) included flowers and champagne. The three of us chatted while she delighted in the gifts. Knowing she liked champagne, we brought what we had been told was one of the best American brands. Olivia was thrilled, but I told her not to open it. She agreed and said she’d open it on Errol’s 2010 birthday. I liked her words.

All this time, which probably took half an hour, Olivia had the writer’s book on her lap.2 She wanted to know what I thought of the book. I told her that I thought it was okay for what it was, a coffee table book, while adding that I didn’t see any noticeable errors in it. Olivia then turned to a page that had a not-frequently seen photo of Nora Eddington on it. Nora was Flynn’s second wife (whom I think Olivia told me that she had never met), and the photo was indeed of Nora. Olivia didn’t think so and we went on about this for five minutes or more. The photo was of Nora and I assured her that the writer wasn’t in error. Finally she accepted this.

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Olivia de Havilland and Louis Kraft discuss the coffee table book that deals with Errol Flynn and others. (photo © Louis Kraft 2009)

“I’m helping you,” she stated. “How can I also help him?” “Simple,” I replied, “help him.” “What about you?” “Help me too.” This seemed beyond her comprehension, although I did encounter this in my dark past.

Twice.

In the early 1970s Patric Knowles, who had acted with Olivia and Flynn in three films, was a patient of my father-in-law. … Patric readily agreed to spend time with me so that I could interview him. Mr. Knowles was as he appeared on screen, a gentleman. We got along fabulously, and kept in contact for years after meeting. However, during the interview he refused to discuss anything associated with Errol Flynn, especially The Adventures of Robin Hood. Frustrated I finally asked why. He had been paid a fee to supply information for a book that was in process.

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Olivia de Havilland as Maid Marian in The Adventures of Robin Hood. The setting is an archery contest, but it is little more than a trap to capture Robin Hood. These are tense moments for Olivia’s Marian for she has realized that it is a trap. She also knows that Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood is present. If you’ve never seen this film, do yourself a favor and see it. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

I believe that the book was Tony Thomas’s Cads and Cavaliers: The Film Adventurers (South Brunswick and New York: A. S. Barnes and Company, 1973), but I didn’t bother to note the author that Knowles helped. Even though Knowles isn’t recognized in the Acknowledgments of this book I believe that it is the book in question as it deals with him taking Flynn up in his plane during the filming of Robin Hood and this is exactly where I directed my questions. The second time was when I approached my boyhood baseball hero, Duke Snider, to write a book about his life and career. I had already written two or more articles about him which he had seen, but he declined as another writer had beaten me to the punch (Duke Snider and Bill Gilbert, The Duke of Flatbush, New York: Citadel Press Books, 1988).

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One of the portraits of Olivia de Havilland and Louis Kraft in her garden on 3jul2009. (photo © Louis Kraft 2009)

Back to Olivia, who pressed that she could only help one person. I didn’t agree with this and I still don’t. “Two books are better than one, three books are better than two, and four books are better than three,” I stated. “Why?” “Because it gives readers a choice. They’ll figure out which are good books and which aren’t.”

She accepted this and we moved on.

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Hattie McDaniel (who won the best supporting actress Academy Award for her portrayal as Mammy), Olivia de Havilland (who was nominated, and rightfully so for her portrayal as Melanie), and Vivien Leigh (who won the Academy Award for best actress as Scarlett O’Hara) in Gone with the Wind (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1939). (Louis Kraft personal collection)

On this visit I had an extensive list of questions and there was no way we could deal with all of them. On this trip I wanted to gather information about key people in her life other than Flynn during her time at Warner Bros. She talked some, good stuff, but I don’t have dates on some of it. The search goes on, for I must confirm stories and place them where they belong in time and not a year before or two years after. Ladies and gentlemen, this is time consuming. Trust me, I track all leads. Without going back and checking, it was on this visit that I asked about Olivia being cast as Melanie in Gone with the Wind (Metro Goldwyn Mayer, 1939). I’ve read numerous stories about how Olivia landed the role, most likely the most important role she ever played in her career. She told me her story. When I said that it didn’t agree with the other stories she told me that the other stories were wrong.

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Olivia de Havilland and Errol Flynn as Lady Penelope Gray and Robert Devereaux, the 2nd Earl of Essex in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (Warner Bros., 1939). The film had a great director who knew how to move plot, Michael Curtiz, and good acting, especially by Olivia, Flynn, and the supporting cast (I will deal with Bette Davis’s performance as Queen Elizabeth I of England in Errol & Olivia). But—always that damned but—but the screenwriters couldn’t free themselves from playwright Maxwell Anderson’s stilted verse/prose in “Elizabeth the Queen,” producer Hal Wallis also flailed about when usually he had a deadeye for good scripts, and finally Mike Curtiz remained silent. Numerous Academy Award nominations aside, the slow-moving film could have been a glorious adventure/love story turned tragical. What could have been would never be. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

More important, her being cast as Melanie placed her front and center with Jack Warner and Hal Wallis, who, like it or not, were the most powerful people in her aspiring film career. Even though Warners would receive great compensation for her loan-out these men did not like rebels. They handed down punishment to whomever they considered a contractual slave at Warner Bros. Olivia had as much as committed treason. She would be punished, and big time. They also did what they could to humiliate her and here they also succeeded. But she fought back with anger, some good performances, and when her seven-year contract ended she told them goodbye. They said no, that she owed them for the time she spent on suspension (that was time with no salary and no work at the studio). When Olivia refused to buckle and crawl back to them and beg forgiveness they blacklisted her. They sent out a letter that demanded that no film or theater company in the United States hire her. Warner Bros. wielded power, the threat clear, and Olivia de Havilland ceased to earn her living as an actress in the USA (do I dare to say, in “the land of the free”?).

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On February 29, 1940, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences held their awards ceremony for the year 1939. Olivia did not win a supporting actress award for her portrayal of Melanie in Gone with the Wind, losing to Hattie McDaniel for her wonderful portrayal as Mammy in the same film. You can’t tell by this photo but the loss hurt—big time. Later, Olivia would say that she was thrilled that Hattie won the award. At the left of the image is Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., who accepted a special award for his father, Douglas Fairbanks, who had died the previous December. In the center is Vivien Leigh, who won an Oscar for her portrayal as Scarlett O’Hara. I’m not certain about the seating during the night’s festivities, but some swapping of seats did happen that night for I have seen several images of Lawrence Oliver sitting to Leigh’s right on this night (Leigh and Oliver married on 31aug1940). I’ve always enjoyed Doug Jr.’s performances (much more so than his father’s), and it is too bad that he never acted with Olivia or Flynn. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

Olivia did not fall to the ground and creep away never to be heard of again. Instead she sued Warner Bros., and in 1944 she won a major decision, since known at the “de Havilland Decision.” Free! She was free to seek acting employment elsewhere. This decision would play a role in the beginning of the end of the studio system as it was in the early 1940s, … and ultimately it contributed to the major freelance film contracts that now earn stars millions of dollars for a film performance. Actors of the last 30+ years (perhaps longer) need to send Olivia de Havilland a letter thanking her for her courage.

Oh, we did spend some time with Mr. Flynn, and for me this was key time, especially with two events in both their lives. One I can date, and the other I can’t although I know the three other key players involved in this star-studded event. Also, she surprised me with her comments about the management heads at Warner Bros., and this was an eye opener.

My girlfriend grew tired and bored. She excused herself and joined Emily in the house while Olivia and I continued to chat and enjoy each other’s company. I didn’t want to leave but realized that the hour now hovered close to midnight. I excused myself, found Emily, and asked her to call a cab. I then returned to Olivia to enjoy my remaining time with her.

2 I have comments regarding what happened with the writer who asked me to pitch him to Olivia. These will appear in another blog.

Olivia de Havilland, a special lady

I pray God that Olivia’s health remains good. I have just sent her a card stating this, and it is from my heart.

Ms. de Havilland, although early I want to wish you a wonderful 2015 birthday
and hope that you enjoy your special day with your loved ones and friends.

Olivia de Havilland is a multifaceted person. She is intelligent, beautiful, charming, funny, sexy as hell, political, caring, and courageous. Oh, and I don’t want to forget this: She is a great actress. Ms. Olivia de Havilland, God bless you for all you have done to make the world a brighter place. … I do hope that I can again cross the Atlantic Ocean and spend more time with you.

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A good way to conclude this blog is with an Olivia de Havilland film that I have not yet seen. It costars Gilbert Roland (pictured with Olivia), and Paul Scofield as King Phillip II of Spain. The film is That Lady (20th Century Fox, 1955) and it has an interesting plot summary that sounds as if it includes swordplay, unconsummated love, jealousy, and might end in tragedy. (Louis Kraft personal collection)

Upcoming blogs

  • A Louis Kraft walkabout in Thailand, Cheyenne Indians, and a glimpse into the future
    This blog is currently being drafted, but due to the length it will probably be broken into two blogs (and hopefully not three). My blogs are always personal, but this blog will be doubly so, and it will touch upon a subject that I have hidden for years.
  • People who don’t do research but dish out opinion as if they know everything
    Ouch! Sometimes I can only stomach so much of this kind of crap.
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers
    I’ve struggled trying to decide if I should be vague or be specific and take people to task who push their agendas at the cost of truth. They create fictions and lies and often their cited documentation is a fabrication or worse. There is a war going on and I’m in the middle of it. If I opt for the second approach all hell (at least for me) will break out.
  • The song remembers when
    Like this blog on Ms. de Havilland, this is something I’ve lived with and know. It will be easy for me to write and it might follow the Thailand/Cheyenne blog if my knees begin to shake too noticeably when considering writing the other blogs before it.

— Louis Kraft

Sand Creek Massacre, Kit Carson, Pailin, & good friends

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog

As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Warning: This blog is long.

This blog has preempted the “Future Blogs List” as it is based upon a 19-day research-discovery trip that Pailin and I took recently to Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas. As Pailin now has her Green Card she is free to travel the United States, and as she is an explorer, this was a trip that hopefully she enjoyed. She got to see a lot of land she had never seen before, got a taste of what I do, and better yet became my assistant. I told her at the beginning of the trip that within five years I wanted her telling everyone about the lead-up to, the November 1864 attack on a peaceful Cheyenne-Arapaho village, and the aftermath of this tragic event. The trip also included Kit Carson research in Santa Fe, Taos, and the Bosque Redondo Memorial (Fort Sumner) in New Mexico. There was also a tad of Wynkoop research; hell, we were in two of his three key areas in the West during the trip. Finally Pailin got a surprise Errol Flynn physical examination of the El Rancho Hotel, a national historic site in Gallup, New Mexico, where Flynn and the Rocky Mountain (1950) film crew stayed while they shot the film’s exteriors in the area. … But this trip was also about seeing good friends, introducing Pailin to the western landscape, looking at property in Eldorado (Santa Fe, N.Mex.), and making a delivery to the LK Collection in the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library (Santa Fe).

Colorado here we come

The trip began on 28sept2014 and it was a long drive that took us from North Hollywood (a town in Los Angeles), California, to Richfield, Utah.

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Pailin took this image as we drove east from North Hollywood, California, and as the sun began to rise. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

During the first day we did detour to The Valley of Fire, which is north of Las Vegas, Nevada, and off I-15. I had been to The Valley of Fire in 2001 after I had sold the idea of a Ned Wynkoop one-man show to Kansas.

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The image with the white hat was taken at The Valley of Fire in Nevada.

I had pitched the Wynkoop one-man show idea to Leo Oliva, who was already bringing me to Kansas to speak (and I’m certain that George Elmore, now chief historian at the Fort Larned NHS, played a key role in this important stage of my life). Leo had asked for a publicity shot.

Of course when a friend saw the publicity shot in a publication, he complained: “What the hell is this? Wynkoop didn’t dress like that!” I don’t think I calmed his anger with my reply.

valley_ofFireCollage_28sept2014_wsOnce we got out of Nevada the landscape improved. Utah is gorgeous. We turned right onto I-70 and halted for the night after about 37 miles.

The second day started out nicely in Utah, and again the landscape was beautiful to behold. But soon the easy climate began to change. It started out with showers mixed with sunshine as we cruised through the eastern side of Utah and closed on Colorado.

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After entering Colorado I got my usual welcome: Weather headed straight for the deep freeze. It is almost as if I have become a marked man in the state. If Kraft crosses our border, chill his bones until he leaves. Pailin took this photo from the window of the Vette as we cruised eastward on I-70 (she took many photos through the windshield and the right window during the trip). This image captured the beginning of the end of color for the rest of the day, and we hadn’t reached the noon hour yet. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

At Grand Junction, Colorado, it turned cold and a downpour that lasted close to three hours struck. It was downhill from there, and looked like a repeat of the last two or three times I have visited Colorado. After we closed on the Rocky Mountains the temperature began to drop at an alarming rate. Rain clobbered us and stopped only to hit again minutes later. The temperature reached 37, 36, 35, 34, and then 33 degrees.

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Pailin’s photos remind me of James Abbott McNeill Whistler’s nocturnes. He, along with Vincent van Gogh, are my favorite artists.

Snow began to fall. Thirty-two degrees. Ouch! This was not what I wanted to see. The traffic continued at a frantic pace. Soon the three lanes shrunk into one for construction, but there were no construction workers. And soon after the traffic came to a halt. We passed a sign that proclaimed, “When lights flashing chains are required” (or something like that), with a $500.00 fine if not obeyed. I’ve never seen a chain up close in my life. And soon after the traffic came to a halt. It did not appear to be for construction; an accident? Time crept forward, perhaps 30 minutes as we inched forward. We passed another construction zone but no one was working. The snow stopped falling and the temperature zoomed up to 37 degrees, but we came to a halt again a short distance in front of the Eisenhower Tunnel (there is more to the name). I called John Monnett and left a message that we were going to be late as we were expected at his and Linda’s house (I had anticipated arriving by late afternoon). Soon after we got through the tunnel the traffic jam vanished and I-70 returned to being a speedway (I have never seen so much tailgating as I have seen in Colorado on this trip). I guess everyone wanted to get off the mountain before they shut down the road. (John informed me that they don’t shut down I-70 in the fall; rather that Colorado drivers are the worst).

A short while later a ray of sunshine stole into the mountain pass, but it only lasted for a few minutes. There was no rain and the temperature reached 39 degrees and then 40. I breathed and said a silent prayer. We’ve made it. Somewhere the road grew to three lanes, and I even felt comfortable showing what my car could do (I say this fully knowing that its body is very light and it can become airborne). At the same time my goal was getting Pailin to John and Linda’s house safely.

COLO_29sept2014_apr2013_ps-k&lkCollageAll was looking good, when the snow returned with a vengeance. Visibility dropped to about 30 feet or less, and—thank goodness—the traffic slowed. Hell, they were forced to slow. Soon the three lanes closed into one for construction, but again there were no construction workers (I’m glad that they didn’t have to work in this weather). And of course the traffic came to another complete halt. We sat there and watched the temperature drop—37, 36, 35, 34, … Oh no! We started to inch forward. The downward spiral continued. Thirty-three, … 32! I hate to admit it, but I don’t know how to drive on ice. I’ve had good conversations about this, most recently with my good friend Layton Hooper (2013) who just this year moved from Colorado to Arizona (and I think I know why). But knowing something (at least thinking you know something) and doing it are two different things. If it were just me, I’m good and know that I’ll survive (experience has backed this up many times in the past), but I’ve got Pailin with me. Caution and driving safely were the only things on my mind.

After reaching 32 degrees the temperature stayed at 32. We approached a tunnel and it was closed. A detour road swung to the right of, and around, the tunnel and when we reached the other side of the tunnel the road again opened into two lanes.

Soon after the snow stopped falling. We had downpours of rain, and I kept in the slow lane, but the temperature again grew. Within minutes it reached 40 degrees and never looked back. I-70 got out of the pass, and even though the downpour continued we made good time until we closed on Denver and then Lafayette.

ps&LadyJaneGray_lk&Wellington_collage_wsVisibility remained bad, but after a couple of missed turns we arrived at John & Linda’s house. Just as I was about to push the door bell my cell phone rang. It was John trying to find out where we were and if we were okay. Linda opened the door and Pailin and I met a lady I had been looking forward to meeting for a long time, and John and his lady met Pailin. It was early evening on September 29. I liked Linda immediately.

The night passed easily as Linda prepared a terrific meal and we hung out for a few hours. Pailin is shy, and there is a reason for it, but she was thrilled over meeting John and Linda.

Some background on John and this trip

John Monnett is one of the top Cheyenne wars historians writing today. We had met years back. Somewhere, and it was most likely at a western history event. We knew each other and liked each other. We had both spoken at an Order of the Indian Wars symposium in Centennial, Colorado, in 2010, and at a party afterwards we hung out and got to know each other. From then on our friendship grew. Previously John had provided me with a great peer review of the Wynkoop manuscript (Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek, OU Press, 2011) and later a top-notch peer review of the proposal for what will be my next Indian wars book (working title: Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, OU Press). When I told John that after Pailin had her Green Card that we would be making a trip to Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas, he invited us to stay with him and Linda.

Research and hanging out with John and Linda

As most of you know my next book will deal with the people who lived through the events that led up to the attack on the Cheyenne-Arapaho village on Sand Creek in Colorado Territory in November 1864, the attack, and the aftermath. You also know that I write about people. I am now faced with a much larger task of making more people leading players and at the same time connecting them to the supporting players while maintaining a flow in the manuscript. This task is massive. Who, where, when, … while showing and not telling (a key to any writing). The goal is to transition smoothly between the players and the events. Doable? I have every intention of making this happen. If I fail my publisher—read my editor and friend Chuck Rankin—will do what he can to get me back on course. If I again fail, “Adios amigo!” I have no intention of failing. Actually this is the best challenge I have ever faced, and I love it.

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While I dawdled Pailin discovered the Wynkoop books in the museum. John suggested that I sign the museum’s books and the Boulder History Museum agreed. This was just the beginning of what John shared with Pailin and LK on this day.

On September 30 John took Pailin and I to a coffee shop he enjoys going to for breakfast and to work. Afterwards he drove us to the “Chief Niwot Legend & Legacy” exhibit at the Boulder History Museum. Niwot (or Left Hand, which is his name that is most known) was a chief of the Arapahos during the mid-1860s). All I’ll tell you about Niwot is that he will be featured as much as possible in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway and that he received wounds during the November 29, 1864, attack on the Sand Creek village and they led to his death. This man stood for peace and had done what he could to hopefully bring about an end to the 1864 Indian war in Colorado Territory (he thought he had succeeded).*

lk&ps&jMonnet_SandCreek_NiwotExhibitCollage_wsThis visit to the Boulder History Museum was Pailin’s introduction to research. Over the coming days I wore her out with what I requested she do, and she would come through admirably.

* Be careful with what you read online regarding Niwot, for some of the supposed factual information you’ll see is flat-out not true. Actually it is wise to heed this advice when researching many of the historical figures involved in the American Indian wars online.

Next up was researching a soldier who had been a member of the Third Colorado Volunteer Cavalry at the time of the Sand Creek attack and seeing the remnants of a stage station that members of Company D of the Third used to travel to Denver to join their regiment as they had not yet been assigned horses. … Pardon my vagueness here, but as books always have word counts if contracted and professionally produced, and as I don’t know what research will be included in the manuscript until I piece it together, at this time I have nothing to share.

ps&jMonnett_FtChambers_BoulderMontage_wsJohn’s next destination was the stage station in Boulder that is currently falling apart. There is hope that money can be raised to save the building for in 1864 troopers that enlisted in the Third Colorado Volunteer Cavalry Regiment in Boulder rode from this stage station to Denver as they had not yet been mounted. Unfortunately the day passed quickly, but John made it both beneficial to my Sand Creek manuscript research and fun for Pailin and I.

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On Wednesday, October 1, Pailin lived through her first day of doing archival research at the Western History Department of the Denver Public Library. Almost everything I looked at was pulled from the DPL’s vault and she served as my official photographer with her iPad as it couldn’t be photocopied. Research is two things: Finding gold and ruling out that the research spot has been mined out for what is hoped to find. When working in an archive time is precious and I don’t believe in breaks (that includes when I research locally in Los Angeles, which contains some of the best archives I have ever seen—a major reason why I should never leave LA).

The day was long, but Pailin seemed to enjoy it. I told her that this was just the beginning, and she said, “I’m good as long as I’m with you.”

Rocky Mountain National Park

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Pailin with John & Linda Monnett at Bear Lake in the Rocky Mountain National Park on 2oct2014. It was chilly but we had a good time. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft, John & Linda Monnett 2014)

By Thursday, October 2, the archival and museum research work in Colorado had ended. John and Linda Monnett drove Pailin and I to the Rocky Mountain National Park, which was a short drive from their home. Beautiful vistas and landscapes, but surprisingly the area was more crowded than John expected. Luckily we landed parking spots when we needed them.

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Although John had captured me and the snowball I like Pailin’s image better as I played centerfield, 3rd base, and 1st base with my brother on winning baseball teams. We played together for 10 years. When he died in 1990 I quit and never played again. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

John had hoped to get us above the snow line but the roads were closed. There were remnants of a recent snow on the ground at Bear Lake, and as Linda, Pailin and I snapped photos John rolled a snowball for me. I wound up a la Sandy Koufax (the greatest baseball pitcher I have ever had the pleasure to watch perform in person and on TV) and went through the motion of flinging a fastball while John and Pailin snapped away. Afterwards I tossed the snowball at a tree, but alas it wasn’t a strike. My apologies to those of you who don’t know or understand the American sport of baseball and its terms.

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Linda and John Monnett in the coffee shop of the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, on 2oct2014. This entire day was a joy as Pailin and I got to hang out with John and Linda. They had taken us to the Rocky Mountain National Park, which obviously both of them love. Afterwards they shared the historical Stanley Hotel with us. Linda knows I’m about to take her picture while John seems to be occupied with perhaps seeing a ghost. (photo © Louis Kraft and John & Linda Monnett 2014)

The trip also included viewing the historic Stanley Hotel in Estes Park that represented the hotel that Jack Nicholson and his cinematic family (Shelly Duvall and Danny Lloyd) encountered horror after recovering alcoholic Nicholson became the caretaker of the Overlook Hotel in Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film version of Stephen King’s novel, The Shining. I saw it when it first opened in theaters but was bored by the film and have never seen it since. … Don’t know if I’d like to stay in the Stanley Hotel on a solo trip but the hotel would make a great location for a western history convention.

Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site

Ladies and gents, this tragic and yet now holy land is a long-long drive into the middle of nowhere Colorado. John did all the driving on our way to the bloody ground and Linda and John split the driving back to their home. An exhaustive day for them, and John later commented on social media that he was happy when Kraft left for his life would now return to normal. John and Linda did everything possible to make our visit beneficial to my Sand Creek project while making us feel at home and welcome. They were marvelous hosts and Pailin and I enjoyed every minute of our visit. J & L, thank you.

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John knew I wanted to meet Jeff Campbell, whom he had already met, and both of our fingers were crossed on 3oct2014 (at least mine were). We—I—got lucky and Jeff worked on this day (and I do believe we—I—were/was lucky for he had a very busy schedule in front of him moving forward in October and into November with all the Sand Creek Massacre 150th anniversary events at hand (and with Cheyennes and Arapahos visiting the NHS). Pailin took this image of us on the wooden platform in front of the makeshift visitor center and as you can see there was a harsh sun that day. I don’t remember what I was saying to Jeff, but trust me for we weren’t arguing. Nor were there any comments regarding the Wynkoop review I had submitted upon request to the National Park Service. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, Jeff Campbell, & John Monnett)

The Sand Creek Massacre NHS needs a lot of money to bring it up to Washita Battlefield NHS in scope, presentation, and splendor. They have the correct people in place at the NHS, they have the knowledge and understanding of what happened, but they still need U.S. government funding to make this sacred ground a jewel in the U.S. park system. This must happen, for believe it or not this is perhaps the most important of all the Plains Indian war sites for what happened there paved the way for the conscious destruction of people and their lifeway. It created a searing wound in the Cheyennes and the Arapahos that will never heal, while at the same time made it clear that greed, prejudice, right, wrong, and conscience really have a major impact on history and that it defines the participants.

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I don’t remember what John was saying at this moment, but my guess is that he was pitching my Sand Creek manuscript. Pailin took this image on 3oct2014 just outside the Sand Creek Massacre NHS visitor center. (photo © John Monnett, Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

As said above everything is falling into place at the Sand Creek Massacre NHS (more below) as to what happened, and, as Ranger Jeff Campbell (more on Jeff below) explained on this day, those leading the way to define the presentation at this oh-so-important site are getting close with confirming their facts and gaining consensus from all the parties involved. This location—and I don’t care if it is in the middle of Neverland, USA—this sacred ground deserves a visitor center/museum that matches the one at the Washita. That said, the land is magnificent, and along the bluffs that skirt the western perimeter of the property present a marvelous view of massiveness of the ground on which the November 29, 1864, attack on a peaceful Cheyenne-Arapaho village took place. There are no well-placed signs along the trail telling the visitor what he or she is looking at to date, so one must have a good knowledge of what happened to make any sense of what is seen.

Some of what follows is repetitive, but as it is important I need to repeat it here. Jeff Campbell, who has held a wide range of jobs over his career, ranging from school teacher to a crime scene investigator, has now as a National Park Service ranger taken on the challenge of piecing together the events of that tragic day as if it were a crime scene. On Friday, October 3, John, Linda, Pailin, and I spent valuable time with him as he explained his approach to his task as well as update us on the status of the NHS. Although he wouldn’t reveal details he made it clear that his and others work was about 95 percent complete as to determining where the attack happened as well gaining a consensus from the various participants who have a major stake in the telling of this horrific attack. I’m talking about the people who had attempted to end a war in September 1864, thought that peace had returned to their lives, but then on that November 29 day were attacked and brutally murdered—the Cheyennes and the Arapahos.

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My lady on the bluffs above the Sand Creek village site on 3oct2014. (photo © Louis Kraft & Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

To gain an understanding of all the parties involved in the massive project of purchasing the land, creating the NHS, and then piecing together all the historical events has been a joint project with many factions involved, read Ari Kelman’s book A Misplaced Massacre: Struggling over the Memory of Sand Creek (Harvard University Press, 2013).

Although Kelman’s prose is a page-turner, especially when dealing with the events in the last 30 or 40 years as he brings the modern-day Sand Creek story together—and it was a fight for the Cheyennes, Arapahos, U.S. government, land owners, historians, would-be historians, and National Park Service to create this historic site, but be wary of his information related to the battle and the events surrounding it. Although Kelman uses, at least his notes claim he used, primary source material, there are many errors. Why? I don’t know why. Perhaps there was a poor understanding of the primary source material, not checking facts, or a rush to go to print? There is a warning here: While in modern times and dealing with the fight, and it was a fight, to create this much-needed NHS that protects this oh-so-sacred ground, Kelman’s book is a wonder. However, if writing about the participants and events of that horrific time during the 1860s be careful or you will repeat his errors.

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The four of us are at the second and final bench on the walk skirting the village site. John is checking the brochure, which has a small map and I’m asking Pailin what she is doing. “Taking a photo.” We had great temperature for exploring but the sun made for deep shadows. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft, Linda & John Monnett 2014)

As Jeff Campbell had stated at the Sand Creek Massacre NHS visitor center the attack had been a running fight. When you walk the bluffs above the grounds you easily see the immensity of the village site and the open expanse on which the fight took place. I could envision myself as Capt. Silas Soule or Lt. Joseph Cramer as they instructed their men not to fire their weapons; I could envision myself as mixed-blood Cheyenne George Bent as he scrambled to escape the surrounding soldiers only to be wounded but still able to escape under the cover of darkness.

I can also easily see myself as mixed-blood Cheyenne Edmund Guerrier as he escaped unharmed; I can imagine myself as Cheyenne Chief Black Kettle who under the cover of darkness returned to where he thought he’d find his dead wife Medicine Woman Later only to find her alive and with her escape; and finally I could picture myself as Arapaho Chief Niwot (Left Hand) as he received the wounds that would lead to his death. … I can’t visualize myself as a soldier that killed women, children, and men and then sexually hacked their bodies to pieces. By now you know I can step into Ned Wynkoop’s boots and explode when news of the slaughter reached him.

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LK standing next to the plaque at the entry to the Sand Creek Massacre NHS grounds (which is separate from the visitor center). John M. took this photo on 3oct2014 when we returned to his auto. The Indian pictured on the plaque is unidentified. (photo © John Monnett & Louis Kraft 2014)

As Johnny Boggs’ quoted me in his terrific article, “Trail of Tragedy” (True West, November 2014, page 53), “War doesn’t give soldiers the right to murder, rape, and butcher. Not yesterday, not today, and not ever.” You know where I stand, but as a writer and historian I must separate myself from the story and let the participants’ actions speak for them. I must eliminate my bias from the writing and reporting, for whatever I think and feel is not the same as the people thought and felt in 1864. If I do my job properly, the readers will make their own decisions on what happened.

At the Sand Creek NHS Administrative office in Eads, Colorado I met Shawn Gillette, Chief of Interpretation. Shawn liked the Wynkoop book, but more important he told me that he and the others who worked on the Ned Wynkoop NPS brochure had seen my review of their draft. He also told me that the NPS Regional Office had shredded their original draft and insisted upon certain items being in the two-page brochure and that he and the others did what they could to include as much as they could of what I had provided but were limited by space.

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I didn’t know what to expect when we walked into the Sand Creek Massacre NHS administration building in Eads, Colorado, that afternoon of 3oct2014, but I would not have guessed what happened. After Shawn realized who I was he greeted me like a long-lost friend. I’m still smiling over our meeting for I had felt when there was absolutely no response to the review of the Wynkoop brochure I submitted (upon request) that I had become public enemy no. 1 of the National Park Service. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, & Shawn Gillette)

Shawn’s comments were perhaps the best thing I heard regarding the Wynkoop brochure, and perhaps on the entire trip. Honestly, I thought that my review and the follow-up blog  (National Park Service, Ned Wynkoop, & a bad taste) killed my entire relationship with the National Park Service. Perhaps I could afford saying adios to the NPS but I didn’t want to lose my great friend, the chief ranger at the Fort Larned NHS, George Elmore. George and I became friends when he gave my then young daughter Marissa and I a private tour of Fort Larned in 1990 or 1991. At this time he had answered many questions that saw print in The Final Showdown (1992). Since that time George has been there for me 100 percent of the time every time I have called upon him. If we lived near each other I am certain that we would hang out together. … Shawn eliminated any fears that I had that I had damaged my relationship with George. Thanks Shawn!

An end to the Colorado visit 

John, Linda, Pailin, and LK had an easy Saturday. We had a late breakfast at the Monnett’s favorite coffee house (John calls it his second office; at least that is what I think he calls it). Certainly he spends a lot of time there. Afterwards we hung out at and rested at John and Linda’s great house. John and I talked a little about research and we decided not to apply for the fellowship at the Braun Research Library (Southwest Museum/now part of the Autry National Center in Los Angeles). I’m not sure of John’s reason but I know mine, and mine is firm (read into this what you will).

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Dinner at The Fort. I wanted to use a photo that I took of John, Linda, and Pailin but there was a problem with the image. Linda took this photo with Pailin’s cell phone. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft)

That night we went to dinner at The Fort in Morrison, Colorado. I always enjoy going there, and I think that John and Linda do also. This was a first for Pailin. My lady and I had duck (a first for me), while Linda enjoyed quail and John, I think, had a steak. Pailin and I often share, as she is small and I don’t want to grow larger (always more than enough food for both of us). I like buffalo and would have loved to have had shared buffalo with her but she many years ago swore off eating any large animals (buffalo, venison, elk, beef, and so on). I’m good with honoring her wishes when we share, and on this night we did. Loved the chile and orange duck! We don’t eat beef at home, but Pailin also likes duck (and has since her Thailand days) and it will be added to our menu at Tujunga House.

For those of you that aren’t familiar with The Fort, it was built to represent one the trading posts that William Bent and company built in the early half of the 19th century to the east of the Rocky Mountains in the land that would become Colorado Territory.

I-25 south to that special land where I am at home

I-25 enters and then leaves Denver, Colorado, as you head south to the Land of Enchantment—New Mexico. Santa Fe grabbed me the first time I had visited in 1987 for research (and this included a side trip to Taos).

Two years later I returned to New Mexico to negotiate writing, designing, and publishing a book a month geared toward pitching New Mexico to Japan.

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This is the east-facing portion of builder Joe Cuellar’s house as it sat near the top of the mesa to the west of Albuquerque. The great room is highlighted in the lighting. It had seven windows and fully a 180-degree view of the bowl in which Albuquerque resides. At night the views were spectacular. Most of the acreage in the front of the image shows the extra acre I negotiated into the contract. I don’t live in the past, but I do learn from it and it does influence me. (photo © Louis Kraft 1989)

I had been lured to Albuquerque where I had seen several adobe-style homes on an acre that were featured in the Albuquerque Journal (I then subscribed to the Sunday edition). Before I returned to New Mexico to look at the homes, the builder and I hit it off and although I had an interview set up with a jewelry firm for a writing position builder Joe Cuellar introduced me to the vice president of the CBS TV affiliate in Albuquerque.

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I loved one of the houses (3300 square feet, one level that had steps as it climbed the hill). I negotiated an extra acre into the deal ($196,000 total), and although the jewelry position didn’t work out the CBS affiliate and my negotiations made decent progress. The VP even visited Los Angeles to continue working on the deal. My task: Obtain the information from Japan, write the text, design the publication, and get it printed each month. Alas, there was one showstopper to the possibility of bringing Japanese investors into New Mexico; I had set a bottom price that I wouldn’t go below. The VP dropped below it. Adios amigo. End of deal, … and house.

The drive was mostly straight with some curves until soon after I-25 passed Las Vegas and turned west toward Santa Fe. We cruised past Glorieta, where over three days in March 1962 Union forces, including Maj. John Chivington and Capt. Ned Wynkoop, took part in the Battle of Glorieta Pass (March 26 and March 28; the two armies didn’t fight on the 27th). A short while later we passed exit 290 (Clines Corners) where Pailin and I had an appointment with Lisa Smith on 7oct2014 to look at a couple of houses in Eldorado, a sprawling area with adobe style and adobe homes that is perhaps ten+ miles from downtown Santa Fe.

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The Lensic Theatre, which is just off the Santa Fe Plaza, in the early evening of 5oct2014. In the previous decade Tomas Jaehn (you’ll meet him below) attempted to get the Wynkoop one-man show into the Lensic but (if memory serves me) the cost was too high to rent this historic and gorgeous theater. A shame; I drooled when I saw the interior of the Lensic. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

After unpacking at our lodging on Cerrillos Road, Pailin and I drove to the historic district and ate at the Blue Corn Café. Afterwards I led her the short distance to the Santa Fe Plaza, showed her the exterior of the Palace of the Governors, and finally the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library, which for years has played a special place in my life. While walking back to the car I pointed out the Lensic Theatre to Pailin. For one night in December 1940 it played a large role in the lives of the people of Santa Fe and surrounding areas when the Errol Flynn-Olivia de Havilland film The Santa Fe Trail premiered in Santa Fe (actually in three theaters). de Havilland had become ill on the train that brought the Warner Bros. junket to the city and never took part in the premier’s festivities. Not so Flynn, and he had the time of his life.

Tomas Jaehn & the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library

My first trip to Santa Fe was a visit to the New Mexico History Museum to research Ned Wynkoop in 1987. At that time Orlando Romero was in charge. Orlando was open and helpful. He was restoring (I think?) his family adobe home in Nambé Pueblo, which is at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains about 16 miles north of Santa Fe. He was getting close to finishing his project and was excited (he told me that he would at some point in the near future retire).

I don’t remember exactly when Orlando retired, but soon after he did (or perhaps before he did), the New Mexico History Museum moved its document collections to the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library. The New Mexico History Museum didn’t cease to exist, and let me say that some of the treasures it holds are marvels. I know, for one day years back Charles Bennett, former assistant director of the Palace of the Governors, took daughter Marissa and I into the depths of this historic site and we saw them.

… Soon after Orlando’s retirement I returned to Santa Fe to continue my Wynkoop research.

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On 6oct2014 Pailin and I met Tomas Jaehn in the entry to the New Mexico History Museum. We walked to his favorite coffee shop and enjoyed the brew while we chatted. Old times for Tomas and myself as we caught up, but new times for Pailin as she got to know Tomas. Unfortunately our visit wasn’t well timed and we couldn’t socialize. (photo by Pailin and © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, and Tomas Jaehn 2014)

It was at this time that I met Tomas Jaehn, who replaced Orlando. I cannot say enough good things about Tomas. He has helped my writing and research in so many ways, that if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have completed some of the projects that I have over the years, and I’m certain that some of the articles and certainly Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek would have taken longer to complete and see print. In 2001 Tomas approached me about creating the Louis Kraft Collection. I liked the idea but it took a year for me to make a delivery and sign the contract.

Over the years Tomas and his family have become good friends.

A primary goal of visiting Santa Fe was and is (as this goal is ongoing) to introduce Pailin to this marvelous city and New Mexico. We both love Los Angeles and Pailin has a wonderful family of Thai friends living there (LA has the largest Thai population in the U.S., and better there are over 200 languages spoken in Los Angeles, also the largest in the U.S., according to the LA Times), which means that living in Los Angeles is very important to her. She is also aware that Los Angeles is a very expensive location to call home, and the prices climb continuously (I’m even taxed to be a writer using a computer in our home even though I don’t claim Tujunga House as a write off). There were two other primary goals for visiting Santa Fe: Making a delivery to the LK Collection and to continue my research at the Chávez.

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In the past I have handed a camera to people to take pictures of Tomas and I, but for some reason the photos have been out of focus. Not so on this visit to Santa Fe and Tomas. Pailin took a number of first class images, and this is my favorite. As you can see we are in Tomas’s office, and the morning sun is blasting through his window. Over the years Tomas has become my good friend; I wish we lived near to each other. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, and Tomas Jaehn 2014)

On Monday morning, October 6, we met Tomas at the New Mexico History Museum complex, which has been recently built, and now uses an elevator as the official entry into the Chávez. We walked to his favorite coffee shop and enjoyed coffee (see above photo). Afterwards I made the delivery, which included: Ned Wynkoop material (recent articles in the December 2013 and the August 2014 issues of Wild West magazine; an article in True West magazine; a review of the NPS brochure on Wynkoop & accompanying blog; review of Leo Oliva’s Wynkoop bio for Wynkoop’s induction into the Santa Fe Trail Hall of Fame; reviews of Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek; and recent talks on Wynkoop), information about LK’s relationship with Pailin Subanna and their marriage, five DVDs (three Wynkoop talks, one Gatewood-Geronimo talk, and the 2012 Wrangler awards in Oklahoma City), and about 100 photos (including art, collages, LK’s freelance-writing life, and Pailin Subanna-Kraft).*

* Although LK and Glen Williams made a delivery to Tomas in Williams, Arizona, in September 2011, this delivery, which mainly focused on the creation of Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (and also included a photo delivery), has not yet been added to the Louis Kraft Collection. It is hoped that the 2014 delivery will be added at the same time that the 2011 delivery is added to the collection so that the information related to the Wynkoop book from both deliveries can be merged together as one addition to the collection. … Currently the LK Collection includes 18 linear feet; with the addition of the 2011 and 2014 deliveries the collection should grow to 21 linear feet.

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Currently the Louis Kraft Collection has 18 boxes that are available for researchers to view. In this 6oct2014 photo I am touching the 18th box. I can’t begin to tell you how much Tomas has done for my writing career over the years. He’s a good friend. (photo by Pailin Subanna-Kraft; © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, and Tomas Jaehn 2014)

After completing the delivery Pailin and I did research in the Chávez archives. We were looking for subjects for magazine articles as well as additional information on the Sand Creek tragedy. Tomas had brought out one of his latest acquisitions, which I have been aware of since the document had been made available to the Chávez. We discussed it, and I told Tomas that to date I hadn’t come up with any background on the author, but had yet to do a search on him in the National Archives. That will happen soon after this blog goes live.

I must add that although Pailin had done a lot of work in Colorado both in archives and in the field in Santa Fe my research demands wiped her out. There was nary a complaint as she smoothly completed each research task I asked of her, and as they related to her photographic capabilities she never had a chance to rest. Yes, I am a slave driver.

Wynkoop’s last job 

Tomas and I discussed Ned Wynkoop’s last job, which was as the warden of the New Mexico Territorial Penitentiary.

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The New Mexico Territorial Prison as it looked in 1890 during Ned Wynkoop’s tenure as warden. (art © Louis Kraft 2014)

In 1890, when Wynkoop landed the position the prison was a fair wagon ride from Santa Fe, which in Wynkoop’s later years had become his home of choice. I told Tomas that I thought that Wynkoop’s time as warden might be a possible story for New Mexico Magazine, and he replied that he didn’t think so? “Why?” I asked. He said that the magazine, which has always been tourist centric, had dropped its historical pieces. Alas, ’tis true. Tomas did tell me where he thought the territorial prison once stood and that the warden’s house still existed. Although not on this day, but before we left Santa Fe we found and photographed the residence (as well as the government building where the prison once stood). As warden Wynkoop stepped outside the box and made the prison self-sufficient. There’s an article here; the question is where to place it.

Pailin’s introduction to Santa Fe

On the sixth we finished at the Chávez at about 12:30 and said goodbye to Tomas. As stated above my lady was worn out as I had pushed her in the research. Still she was game and saw the Indian traders on the portico of the Palace of the Governors (including the interior of the building), took a closer look at the Plaza, walked through the narrow streets of Santa Fe with her camera constantly clicking. Images for her and for me.

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Pailin loves art, and Santa Fe is the third largest art market in the U.S. after New York City and Los Angeles. Santa Fe has art on the streets and in the galleries in the downtown area. Unfortunately we didn’t have time for her to explore even a portion of all the roads that are lined with galleries. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft and Louis Kraft 2014)

We ate chicken and green chile stew especially prepared for us at Tia Sophia’s as the only green chile stew they made that day had beef. Good for me; a little warm for Pailin.

Eldorado & the International Museum of Folk Art

On the seventh Lisa Smith, my long-time friend and real estate agent in Eldorado (Santa Fe County) showed us two adobe-style homes on an acre plus of land. The first was interesting with a rustic appeal but felt small. It also had a loft that other than storage was almost useless. However, the land had a nice roll to it and the enclosed entry had lots of possibilities. Lisa told us that it was overpriced (she would tell the selling agent her view later that day, and apparently other agents had also done so, for by late afternoon the price had dropped $50,000). The second home listed for $25,000 less than the first house but was magnificent.

EldoradoHouseCollage_2014_wsAfter seeing these houses, and later at my good friends Glen and Ellen Williams’ home in Denton, Texas, and Pailin asked me why we don’t have a home like these in Los Angeles. The answer is simple: Housing in Los Angeles costs more, and that for us to live in a home like these we would have to move out of LA. … This was my kind of question and I hope that it remains in Pailin’s head. Prices continually rise in Los Angeles. Currently there is a scare of an increase of gasoline tax from 15 cents to 73 per gallon to fix the roads; we’re already paying a heavy tax to fix the roads (and most haven’t been fixed in years). Don’t ask me where the money goes for the government won’t like my answer.

**********

Oh, the Los Angeles Times featured “99 WAYS TO BOOST PENSIONS. AT PUBLIC COST. Taxpayers could shoulder billions after CalPERS approved perks for new public workers” in the 23oct2014 issue of the paper. The title and subtitle says it all, but here is just a taste of being a government employee in the late great state of California: The pension fund has quadrupled in the last 10 years, from $1.9 billion to $8.1 billion. What are some of the perks? How about a bonus each month for staying in shape (they call it “Physical Fitness Pay”), or adding to one’s pension by keeping traffic moving, working with animals, a premium for dictation/shorthand/typing skills (Are you kidding me?), writing parking tickets (What? Write more tickets and you get a bonus or your retirement grows?), auditorium preparation, mentioning school children, and my favorite, a library reference desk premium for directing visitors to the correct location in the building. The list goes on ad nauseam. … Sorry, but I’m back in the real world.


Santa Fe has four Thai restaurants that I know of and another that serves Thai food once a week. That said I failed to learn the size of the Thai population in Santa Fe. It will be small, but I know that the chef and owner of Thai Vegan (a great restaurant) is Thai, so that means that at least one Thai person lives in Santa Fe (city and county). My searches on the internet turned up zero.

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Yes, Pailin fit right in with the International Museum of Folk Art. LK photo on 7oct2014. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

We said goodbye to Lisa (although we would see her again later in the day to see a third house) and headed to a destination that I had seen only once (in 1987 I think). I had been bored to tears decades ago but thought Pailin would love it.

I don’t remember the other museums on Museum Hill but they could have been there in the 1980s. Certainly the exteriors and everything now in place didn’t look like I remembered it, and this is good.

ps_Intl_Museum_ofFoldArt2_7oct14_wsPailin fell in love with the International Museum of Folk Art the moment she started to explore it. And you know what? So did I. Like good wine the folk art from around the world sparkled with life and color. “Multiple Visions: A Common Bond,” which has been on display since 1982 is a marvel of culture and art. This is the exhibit that bored me in the dark ages. All I can say now—other than what I said above—is that I must have been blind when I was younger. … Three other exhibits are also wondrous, but they unfortunately have end dates:

  • “Between Two Worlds: Folk Artists Reflect on the Immigrant Experience” (ends 24may2015)
  • “Wooden Menagerie: Made in New Mexico” (ends 15feb2015)
  • “Brasil & Arte Popular” (ends 4jan2015)

A trip to Taos to introduce Pailin to Kit Carson

Over the years I have done a lot of research on Kit Carson. Since Taos is so close to Santa Fe and as our work had ended there except for photographing the location of where the New Mexico Territorial Prison once stood, on 8oct2014 we drove to Taos. The goal was to introduce Pailin to:

  • Taos
  • Taos Pueblo
  • La Hacienda de los Martinez
  • Kit Carson House

The order of the list is deceiving, as returning to see Kit’s home for many years has always been primary on my list (for reasons that have been in place for decades). Taos was second as I wanted Pailin to see another example of a city with adobe-style buildings and an artistic aura, which, alas, survives on tourism (heck, N.Mex. survives on tourism). Third was Taos Pueblo, actually as I wanted her to experience an Indian pueblo that was occupied. I prefer Acoma (west of Albuquerque) as it is much less commercial than Taos, but hadn’t plotted our return trip from Texas, and wouldn’t until the night before we left Texas. Kraft, how many miles can you drive during a single day? … Along with what would weather conditions along I-40 in Arizona be like during our trek homeward. Last, but certainly not least, was La Hacienda de los Martinez. When Linda Monnett learned that Taos was on our visit list she recommended that we see the hacienda and I’m glad she did.

Taos

This quiet adobe town dates way back, perhaps as early as 1615 with Spanish colonization. When the Mexican-American war ended with the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo (1848) Mexico ceded a large section of land to the United States and this included Taos and the area that became New Mexico Territory. Kit Carson’s presence dated to the early 1840s, and Taos has been a favorite destination of mine since 1987. It was during that time that I became hooked on the real Kit Carson (see below). The town, which is a short drive south of the Taos Ski Valley* immediately became a second destination for my daughter and I, as we have always found it peaceful, liked the food, atmosphere, that it was a short drive to other places we visited, and best for me that it was a perfect location to take a week and create a talk (I think that the first time I did this was in 1995 when I gave a Custer-Stone Forehead talk in Amarillo, Texas, a week and a half later).

* After the portion of the trip to Albuquerque to pitch a job and look at a house that interested me the plan was to spend time and explore the surrounding area. Builder Joe Cuellar told me to cancel our lodging reservations in Taos and stay in one of his condos in the Taos Ski Valley and that he and his son Justin would join us in one of the condos he kept for himself. We did for about a week and had a great time exploring with Joe.

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This is a portion of the Taos Plaza as it looked on 8oct2014. Pailin took some images of the plaza area but I can’t find any of them. Oh well, … a little more on Kit Carson, who, during the American Civil War, rescued the American flag when malcontents threatened to burn it (or so the story goes). The plaza was most-likely dirt with scattered adobe buildings surrounding it during Kit’s time. (photo © Louis Kraft 2014)

The shops enclosing the plaza (and the plaza) grabbed Pailin’s interest and she looked at some of the merchandise (but didn’t get anything as she isn’t a spontaneous buyer). She focused on the plaza, enjoying its serenity in the peaceful October 8 late morning, and listened to my telling of Carson rescuing the American flag (history that I hope makes it into a book of mine). I’m certain that at times she thinks that I’m a motor mouth.

This time of year is perfect to visit. Although there was cloud covering the entire day we didn’t encounter scattered sprinkles until we headed back to Santa Fe late in the afternoon. The temperature was perfect, ranging between 70 and 72 degrees the entire time we were in Taos. As we brought food from the previous day, and she had enjoyed Southwest food already we didn’t eat there.

Taos Pueblo 

ps&TaosPueblo_8oct2014_collage_wsI had also visited the Taos Pueblo for the first time in 1987 (it was an extended trip of I believe 16 days with the focus on research in Santa Fe). If memory serves me I thought that in the past I had to pay for parking or to enter the pueblo (think to enter the pueblo), but not on this visit—there was no cost. I don’t know if my memory is in error or has begun to fail (hopefully the former of the two if there used to be a cost).

La Hacienda de los Martinez

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Pailin leans against the archway that separates the first courtyard from the second at the Martinez Hacienda. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

A drive into the country to the southwest of Taos, and I think closer to the Río Grande Gorge but not on the road that crosses this magnificent river, a narrow street wrapped in almost a horseshoe to this cool building that the Martinez family occupied from roughly 1804 (their arrival in Taos) until the 1930s. I’m going by memory here, but I believe it was in the 1950s when two gentlemen borrowed money on their homes to ensure that the hacienda would be not only restored but would become protected and made into a museum. There weren’t enough signs and those we saw were small, and at times we wondered if we had made a wrong turn. At one point I continued straight but luckily Pailin saw that I should have turned right. … A U-turn, then a left and we were back on course.

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LK leans against the same archway that separates the first courtyard from the second at the Martinez Hacienda. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

La Hacienda de los Martinez is off the beaten path and we almost had it to ourselves. As you drive into the dirt parking lot you get the feeling that it was built as a fortress. There are no exterior windows, and only one exterior door and one large double gate for wagon and livestock entry at the front of the building (and one double gate for entry into the second courtyard). At the top of the structure, which has two courtyards is a surrounding wall with notches for defending the structure if need be from attack. Rooms are at the base of the rectangular fortress enclosure and again slicing through the middle of the structure, which creates the two courtyards. The rooms are decorated and furnished in a manner that represents how it might have looked in the hacienda’s heyday. Lighting in the rooms makes it easy to study and enjoy them.

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This is the first of the two courtyards at the Martinez Hacienda. The second is dirt, as are all the rooms, which encompass the hacienda. It was built as a fortress, and had one door and two double-gated entries into the structure. Ramparts on the roof functioned as protection for the hacienda. There were no exterior windows. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

The Martinez family certainly predated Kit Carson’s arrival in Taos and choosing it as his home. What we saw has been restored and decorated to represent 1820 (or later, as it took time to build), but it also provides a great insight into how the Spanish families (and employees and slaves) lived before and probably up to the time that Kit’s tenure in the area began.

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This was the children’s room at the Martinez Hacienda. There were so many great rooms there, and they were decorated as they may have been in the first half of the 1800s. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft)

Pailin and I took our time as we explored every nook and cranny of the hacienda. I could picture myself living there in the early 1800s. When we entered and before we left we spent time with the lady who greeted the handful of visitors, and I learned a lot from what she told us, but alas didn’t take notes so some of the above is from my memory. Our western states could use more of this preservation as it allows those of us that want to step back in time and get the feel of what it might have been like to live as our ancestors did.

If your travels take you to Taos, and you have an interest in the western experience before the great migrations westward I highly recommend La Hacienda de los Martinez.

Kit Carson House

The Kit Carson House has changed ownership and this has affected the size of the residence (to the better) and the interior appearance (again to the better). I believe the last time I had been to his house was about a decade earlier. This was my fourth or fifth visit; the first was in 1987. The film Kit Carson (1940) with Jon Hall playing Kit hooked me on the one man who did it all on the frontier when I was young. And Kit has been with me ever since.

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By now you know that Pailin is my sole mate and lady. She is like no one I have ever known in the past. I’m lucky. She’s an adventurer and open to anything; my kind of person. Boy, did I overwhelm her on this trip, and she didn’t miss a beat. I took this close-up is of her sitting at the front of the Kit Carson House on 8oct2014. Although the building has been re-stuccoed and is no longer an adobe structure, the look and feel is close to what Kit and his family lived in 150 years ago. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Although I haven’t published anything about him it is a quirk of fate, at least in the 1990s after The Final Showdown (1992) was published, and this “quirk” (read: disaster at the time) changed my entire freelance writing path. Although I had been selling magazine articles and speaking about the Cheyenne wars since the mid-1980s I thought I would be a novelist. Unfortunately—or fortunately—the publisher decided to end its western fiction line and a contracted novel died. When I threatened to sue, my-then agent (a relationship also fated to end) almost had a heart attack when I told her my intention. The novel that had been vanished into oblivion dealt with Kit Carson and his relationship with Indians. Dick Upton, of Upton and Sons, Publishers (El Segundo, Calif.) had been pushing me to write a nonfiction book about George Armstrong Custer (to this point in time most of my nonfiction articles and talks had dealt with Mr. Custer). With a dead novel in hand and no book prospects I called Dick and pitched a book. He liked the idea, and I became a nonfiction book writer.

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Pailin took this image on 8oct2014. It is in the improved courtyard of what was the “old” Kit Carson House Museum. What you are looking at are the two rooms that were added after Kit no longer lived in Taos. The leftmost and smallest is now the video room of the new Carson Museum while the longer portion with the lower windows once served as a stable. The Carson Museum and its former associate/partner have severed association with each other. I hope that this makes sense. If you moved to the north of this image (that is on the right side of the image), you would enter the old Kit Carson Museum. This portion of the connected building never was part of Carson’s home, and it is now a separate entity. Life moves forward. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

But Kit never left me. I have first editions (or in the case of Kit Carson Days by Edwin Sabin, the 1935 second edition, in which many of the earlier errors had been fixed and additional material added) of all the key books written about Kit up to the most current. I have primary source documentation and am constantly on the hunt for additional material. Yes, Mr. Carson has been with me for a long time. After Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway is published, Kit will take center stage in my nonfiction Indian wars writing world. I have already begun a slow, very slow, conversation with Chuck Rankin regarding making my next nonfiction book about Kit.

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This is the middle of the three rooms that Kit and family lived in during the 20+ years he and they lived here. While walking these three rooms I tried to focus on the size of the rooms and their layout. Reason: I think a lot of what is in these rooms now are not current to the Carson family tenure (certainly there are Carson portraits that date to after his moving away; they should be in the small museum section of the building). This room served as the kitchen and eating room for the Carsons, and for their guests, which included numerous Indians from a handful of Indian tribes that considered Carson their friend. (photo © Louis Kraft 2014)

Back to the Kit Carson House; if you’ve visited you know that the front three rooms are the rooms in which Kit, his wife, Josefa, and their children lived in during the time that they called this house home. Two rooms were added later (as described above), with the larger of the two being added in the early 20th century (it is the gift shop and now entrance to the Kit Carson House, and when it was added it served as a stable).

As my time with Kit nears, this visit became mandatory (for the reasons stated above). Pailin had plenty of work in Kit’s house.

(Soon after we returned home Lisa Smith sent me the following: “Conde Nast Traveler has named their Top 25 Cities in the World and Santa Fe is #10. Cool, as Santa Fe is my favorite city.)

Gone to Texas to see Glen & Ellen Williams & meet Linda 

Over the years I’ve worked in Texas in various ways. I have had great experiences and I’ve seen things that I’ll never forget, some of which I should keep silent about as I do hope to return to the Lone Star state again and I don’t want to be tarred and feathered. Nor do I want to put the Vette to a test to see if I can outrun a posse of angry Texans to the friendly lands of New Mexico or Oklahoma. I’m playing with thoughts here, but I have seen things that someday will see print in the memoir. What I had observed has remained with me, and it has influenced the direction of my life.

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This is how I looked in a generation-gap comedy at the Hayloft Dinner Theatre, Lubbock, Texas (summer 1976), called What Did We Do Wrong?, wherein a straight-laced father and his rebel son exchange places. We did seven performances a week, and had Mondays off. The lead actors came from LA while the theater hired the rest of the cast locally. During the last week of the run the next production was rehearsed during the day, making for long days (and no Monday off). This photo was taken during a rehearsal for the next play, Eat Your Heart Out, which was about an actor who waited tables while looking for acting work (my hair was trimmed and the beard became a mustache). Great play, but I saw things that I would never forget, things that affected my life. This summer led to me becoming a writer. (photo © Louis Kraft 1976)

I’ve performed a lot of jobs over the years while I attempted to figure out who I was and which direction was best for me. Many of the trails I have followed have had dead ends or just drifted off into oblivion. The visits to Texas have almost all been because of what I considered work (although some of you may not think so). My training was in theater: Acting and directing, and although I never thought about it the studies included a lot of historical reading and writing (the different eras of theater, the playwrights, and of course the actors). By the way I never considered writing for any kind of career until I acted in Texas.

I’ll touch on this a little below. Right now I want to introduce you to Glen and Ellen Williams. I met Glen shortly after I joined Infonet in El Segundo, California, in 1990. I landed the job on my freelance writing, design, and publishing experience. The first thing I said to my boss was: “Can I get some technical writing classes?” “No. I hired you as a technical writer. You’re on your own.” My coworkers were an editor that liked to party and not work and a writer who waited for engineers to feed him information. It took me just a day or two to realize that this wasn’t how one wrote accurate technical material that people could read and understand. I began hanging out with the engineers that created the software that I would write about. Before the first week ended I told my boss that I wanted the software that I would write about on my computer. My request surprised him. Nevertheless he quickly got me what I requested and before I knew it I was up and running.

Early on I did some writing for Glen’s team at Infonet. We hit it off and quickly realized that the Indian world and the frontier experience was something that both of us had a great interest.

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After Glen’s and my relationship cemented and we spent time together exploring and having good times. After Glen and I made a LK Collection delivery to Tomas Jaehn in Williams, Arizona, I took this image on 5sept2011 while Glen and I tracked historic Route 66 back to Los Angeles. Here we are east of Oatman, Arizona. I think we drove a little less than 1000 miles during the three-day trip. We had plenty of time to hang out and talk. Too bad we didn’t have a tape recorder going—some of the subjects were lively (read colorful). Something I needed. (photo © Louis Kraft & Glen Williams 2011)

Our working relationship grew to a working friendship (even though I don’t think we worked together again). By 1995 my life had changed drastically and it was about this time that Glen and I got together outside the workplace. It was also about this time that I met his beautiful wife, Ellen (and she’s still beautiful as her photos prove). She’s always been a joy to be around. Let me tell you that I was sad when Ellen and Glen decided to move from Torrance, California, to the land of Glen’s birth (he was born and raised in Wichita Falls, Tex.) in 2012 even though I knew and totally understood their reasons.

A long overdue detour to the Bosque Redondo

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Carson art in LK’s personal collection that pictures him in the mid-1840s.

Glen had given good directions on how to travel from Santa Fe to Denton, saving about 100 miles off the route that I had originally plotted. On Thursday, 9oct2014, we finished the New Mexico Territorial Prison photos, quickly shot north (actually east) on I-25, got off at Clines Corners (where we had previously to view the homes at Eldorado) and moved south to I-40. It was on I-40 when my memory shot back to 1995 and Marissa and I driving to Amarillo for the Custer and Cheyenne Keeper of the Sacred Arrows Stone Forehead talk after preparing in Taos. The Bosque Redondo … Fort Sumner … we had been close but had a convention to reach. On this day we were again headed toward Amarillo. Where was the Bosque Redondo? How close would we come to it? Do I dare detour? … Indecision. Ouch! I vacillated, as it would take a lot of time (but not add many miles to the day’s drive). Time passed, way too quickly. Make a decision, damn it! Now! And I didn’t.

We had a pit stop and I yanked out the map. More time passed, and way too quickly. … I continued to vacillate, but not for long. Make a decision, damn it! Now! And I did. The town of Fort Sumner was about 42 miles south of I-40. Once we reached the aged town we turned left onto route 60 to the intersection where we would head south a few miles to the Bosque Redondo Memorial at the Fort Sumner ruins.

AmFlags_GraceRoybal_9oct14CollageFIX_wsFor those of you who don’t know what the Bosque Redondo was, Gen. James Carleton, who in 1852 saw the land and thought it would be good for farming, decided to turn it in an Indian reservation in the 1860s. Fort Sumner was constructed and beginning with the 1863 Mescalero Apache campaign and then the 1863-64 Navajo campaign it would now provide the perfect location to incarcerate the defeated Indians.

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This is a detail from one of the placards at the Bosque Redondo Memorial at Fort Sumner. It deals with Carson accepting the Mescalero Apache campaign (with Carleton). The artwork at this memorial is exceptional.

One of his commanders, Col. Kit Carson had quickly forced the Mescaleros onto Carleton’s reservation. They lived south of the Pecos River. After Carson forced the mighty Navajos to capitulate by waging a burnt-earth campaign with very few deaths (with any other commander the death count could have easily grown into the hundreds or more) he didn’t participate in the Long Walk of the Diné, as the Navajos call themselves, to the land that would become hell on earth. Actually he didn’t want anything to do with the Bosque Redondo. Carleton refused to listen to him and ordered him to command the reservation that was anything but a garden place. Winds blew, nothing grew, the Mescaleros and Navajos didn’t get along, Comanches raided, and people died in large numbers from disease and hunger. Carleton provided nothing Carson requested and, frustrated, Carson resigned his military commission. Carleton refused to honor it. The third time Cason submitted his resignation Carleton still refused to accept it but he did transfer his unhappy subordinate.

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In February 1971 Navajos carried rocks from their reservation to the Bosque Redondo to commemorate the Diné that had been exiled from their land and died while incarcerated between 1863 and 1868. (photo © Louis Kraft 2014)

I didn’t know what to expect, but a wonderful visitor center/museum has been built (replacing the smaller and earlier structure next to the remnants of Fort Sumner). The museum isn’t complete, but judging by what the Bosque Redondo Memorial currently has in place it is going to be impressive. There is a lot of land to walk and the center has a recording that can be borrowed (I think there are 90 locations* with commentary as one walks the grounds) but Pailin and I didn’t have time to spend a day or longer at this important piece of Mescalero and Diné memory.

* There is a marker at the spot where Sheriff Pat Garrett shot and killed William H. Bonney, born William Henry McCarty, Jr., and of course known as Billy the Kid (this is a classy historical destination and I’m assuming they are accurate with the placement of the marker, which is close to what remains of Fort Sumner). He was shot in the Maxwell House, which had been the commanding officer’s quarters until the fort was abandoned on 31aug1869. Lucian Maxwell purchased the fort in October 1870, and would die in this building in 1875. All that said, we walked west from the remnants of the fort to view the “Kid’s” marker. The map pictured in the brochure clearly marks where the fort stood. However, it also clearly places the Maxwell House south of Fort Sumner. If true, the marker is misplaced.

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Pailin took this image of us (right) while we were at Navajo Treaty Rock, which has a Diné prayer attached to it. The Navajo Treaty (signed on 1jun1868) is a short distance southeast from the Rock (if the map is correct). The treaty freed the Diné  and allowed them to return to their homeland. Oh yes, there was a harsh sun on that 9oct2014 day. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

There is also a nature trail with plush vegetation (natural to the area?) that obscures and skirts the Pecos River. This area is as perhaps Carleton envisioned it, as the Bosque Redondo and the surrounding area looks to be good farmland today. Alas, for the Diné and the Mescaleros it was just a land of death and desolation. During their deadly occupation of their forced time there their crops mostly died from insects, drought, and perhaps bad luck, which included bad water and a failure of the U.S. government to supply them adequate supplies. Sound familiar? A resounding yes! “Shameful” is a word that accurately sums up what happened during the 1860s and throughout the American conquest of the Indian people.

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This is my daughter Marissa Kraft on one of her many research trips to the American West. She sits above Navajo Fortress Rock on August 7, 2012. The Fortress Rock is in Canyon del Muerto (Canyon of the Dead), one of the three canyons of Canyon de Chelly (the only national monument not on U.S. government land; it is on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona). Fortress Rock is one of the major set pieces of Navajo Blood, my upcoming Carson/Navajo novel for it is here that the fictional Diné Pedro Hueros must make a decision that will impact his life for all time. If you don’t know how I write about the Indian wars-—fiction or nonfiction—I must walk the land. I must feel the sun, the wind, and I must experience how hard it is to walk. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

I have a novel about Carson and the Navajos underway, but am currently waiting for the completion of the Sand Creek manuscript and the medical malpractice novel—as is Errol & Olivia—but actually the fictional story doesn’t deal with the Bosque Redondo unless I decide to continue with the fictional Navajo lead player and again mix his life with historical Diné leaders during the tragic incarceration. Additional research is needed before I even consider a follow-up book on the Navajos’ exile from their homeland. … At this time I have nothing to share about the nonfiction book idea that I hope interests Chuck, as there is still a lot of primary source research to complete before I have any chance of writing a nonfiction book about Kit Carson. As in my nonfiction past I will focus on a specific piece of Carson’s life. The hunt is on, and it is no longer lackadaisical.

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Pailin in the former and small visitor center of the Bosque Redondo Memorial at Fort Sumner. Photo by LK on 9oct2014. It is now furnished to represent soldier barracks. Pailin, like myself, avoids the sun. On this day the sun blazed and the wind whistled (although not as much as I’ve encountered in this portion of the U.S. in the past). At times she looks like a Bedouin mounted on a camel roaming the sandy deserts of the Mideast in times long past (at least as seen in countless films). This is to protect her face. I call her my “Bedouin.” I also call her “Chiquita.” (photo © Louis Kraft & Pailin Subanna-Kraft 2014)

By this point of the trip Pailin knew exactly what I wanted from her and at the Bosque Redondo and at the remnants of Fort Sumner she split away from me to capture what hopefully will provide a good basis for understanding what this land—so barren when the Mescaleros and Navajos were imprisoned here—looked like … minus the vegetation that now thrives. My lady is in her element and it’s a joy to watch her work.

Back to Glen, Ellen, and Linda

It has been great to see Ellen and Glen again and to just hang out with them. It was also nice to meet Glen’s sister Linda and Ellen’s mother Judy. And I had the added bonus that Glen, Ellen, and Linda welcomed Pailin with open arms. They talked with her, hugged her, and she immediately responded and became a welcome a member of their household. Better yet she joked and laughed and felt a little more comfortable in joining the conversations.

Glen was home and working in his garage on 10oct2014, but Ellen and Linda were on an errand in Fort Worth and we wouldn’t see them until the late afternoon. After giving us a quick tour of his and Ellen’s home we went out for lunch at the Wildhorse Grill in Robson Ranch. Nice place and good food. Afterwards we returned to their house. This was the fifth house Pailin had been in on the trip. The first was John & Linda Monnett’s marvelous house, then three houses in Eldorado that Lisa Smith showed us of which the middle one was to both of our liking, and finally Glen & Ellen’s home, which is open and perfect for entertaining (we stayed in a casita that was part of their property). That day Pailin said to me, “Why?” “Why?” I replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Why all these big beautiful houses and ours is small.” I explained to her that the cost of homes in Los Angeles is high and that if we moved away from LA we could buy a larger house for less money (and with or without acreage; I prefer acreage).*

* Sorry to repeat myself, but the trip goals were Sand Creek Massacre and Kit Carson research, a delivery to the Chávez History Library, introduce Pailin to some of my good friends (while I met two ladies named Linda in person), and finally to give Pailin a taste of the land and some of the areas I love. 

sophie&Chewy_psImages_montage_oct2014_wsShortly after Ellen and Linda returned from Fort Worth, and Pailin and I met them, and Chewy, short for Chewbacca, Han Solo’s sidekick in the Star Wars films (Ellen & Glen’s dog), and Sophie (Linda’s dog), both of whom are friendly, we returned to the Wildhorse for dinner. Pailin had been slow to open up to John and Linda, but felt more relaxed by the time we got together with Tomas, and now she had opened up and although she still didn’t say a lot she spoke up whenever she wanted. Pailin works on the English language every day and let me tell you she is progressing with leaps and bounds. This includes her pronunciation, her sentence structure, and her comprehension of words (spelling and meaning). While driving she constantly reads the words off signs, buildings, trucks, and when the words aren’t names she asks for the meanings of them.

The next day Glen drove Ellen and her mother, Judy, to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. Judy lives with Ellen and Glen half of each year and with her other daughter in Hawaii the rest of the year. They always meet in Las Vegas, where they can have a short family gathering before Judy returns to her other home. Pailin rested, I did some work, and then before Glen returned Linda and I had a nice talk in the living room, which is like a great room in an adobe-style house in the Southwest. The day and evening was easy as we enjoyed each other’s company. Glen and I never run out of subjects to talk about.

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You’ve already seen me say, “Who says they don’t raise cowgirls in Thailand?” Glen had taken us to Justin’s  (one of three stores in Justin I think). Pailin and Linda looked at clothing while Glen and I looked at hats. I told him that Barron Hats in Burbank, Calif., which makes many of the hats currently seen in film, makes mine for me. However, later Pailin wanted to see the hats. As I led her through the aisles she liked this one and tried on her size. “Do you want it?” “Yes.” “Let me snap a picture.” More proof that Thailand cowgirls exist. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

On Sunday (12oct14) Linda, Pailin, Glen, and I went out for breakfast.

Afterwards we visited one of the Justin Boot Stores (boots, hats, clothing, and so on) in Justin, Texas. Pailin likes hats and has more than I (actually she wears two cowboy hats that I gave her; one from the famed Nudie Cohn’s country and western superstore in Van Nuys, Calif., now long gone (as is unfortunately Nudie, who was a classic), and an Australian hat that Glen had given me. She liked a black one and I bought it for her.

Lunchtime arrived, and the four of us went to Mom’s in Justin. This was a funky place with cool and long-gone stuff on the the walls, including Elvis.

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From left: Glen Williams, LK, Pailin, and Linda Williams at Mom’s in Justin, Texas, on 12oct2014.

Good times. Yeah, this is social time with my longtime bud, his sweet sister, and my lady, and let me tell you it is as important as the Sand Creek and Kit Carson research, and the LK Collection delivery. Tomas Jaehn is also a long-time business associate and friend. John M is a great Indian wars friend, and now Pailin and I consider his wonderful wife Linda a friend. People are what our world is all about. People are our lives. Some are forever (some aren’t), but without people we have no lives. No matter what I think about my research and writing and no matter how much importance I place upon it, without Pailin, Glen, Ellen, Linda W., Tomas, Linda M., and John my life is empty—nothing. They, and others (such as Robert & Annette Florczak and Marissa K.) are key to my life, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

We returned to Glen and Ellen’s home in Robson Ranch.

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Glen took this great candid of LK and Pailin in front of the entry to the courtyard of his and Ellen’s home in Denton, Texas. It is 12oct2014, and Pailin is wearing the hat she found and liked at the Justin Boot Store. My good friend Glen Williams has taken many great photos for me, but this is one of my favorites. For the record, Pailin and I have a good time laughing together. (photo © Louis Kraft & Pailin Subanna-Kraft and Glen Williams 2014)

Glen and Linda relaxed (Linda also prepared to return home) while I worked on this blog and Pailin relaxed and dealt with her family and friends in Thailand on social media.

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The lady in the light blouse is Linda Williams, Glen’s sister. We have been friends on social media, but I didn’t meet her until Pailin and I visited Denton, Texas. Pailin is holding Sophie, Linda’s sweet and loving dog. My lady has made great strides in her command of the English language, but still she holds back (except with me) as she is conscious of her pronunciation of the words and of her sentence structure (both of which she becomes better at by the day). That said, she gets along with animals fabulously (perhaps as there isn’t a language barrier). That’s Glen w/Linda & Pailin in the left image. These images were taken just before Linda returned to her home on 12oct14. Left image is by LK and the right image is by Glen. (photos © Glen & Linda Williams and Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Linda drove home.

Soon after the three of us drove to the grocery store for supplies, including celery, parsley, carrots, and lemons to make juice. Like the previous day, we enjoyed each other’s company, rested, and got some work done until we went to the Blue Ginger, a Japanese restaurant in Denton. Good food.

ellen&glenWilliams1_14oct14tight_wsMonday was more of the same until Glen picked up Ellen at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.

Ellen & Glen Williams (left) have been my great friends since the 1990s. As you can see Ellen is petite. She is bright, funny, open, and kind. She is also gorgeous. It was terrific seeing her again, and it was also good to see her effort to befriend Pailin, which gave my lady the confidence to open up some. (photo by Pailin Subanna-Kraft and © Ellen & Glen Williams and Pailin Subanna-Kraft, 2014)

Good times with Ellen and I’m glad she returned in time to be with us. After dinner, Ellen, who was beat, went to bed early, and so did Pailin.

drum&breastplate_gWilliamsGift_13oct14_wsThis allowed Glen and I to talk deep into the night. He made certain that I had a drum made for him by Devereaux Old Elk*, who grew up near Garryowen on the Crow Reservation in Montana, and a breastplate, which, according to Glen’s provenance, came from a Crow trader but was created by a Northern Cheyenne (based upon the bead colors). The breastplate dates to the early 1950s and shows considerable use as it was worn for years in powwows. Glen had carefully packed it. These had been his possessions for a long time and he wanted me to enjoy them. I had tried to talk him out of the gifts, but he wouldn’t listen. They are marvelous, and I will enjoy them. Thank you, Glen.

* The Crow scout Curley, who survived the Battle of the Little Bighorn, was Devereaux’s great grandfather.

The image to the right shows the two items that Glen graciously gave me (photo © Louis Kraft 2014).

Ladies and gents, my friend blew me away, and I told him that he needed to keep and enjoy them. He refused to listen, and you are now seeing two of my most prized possessions in Tujunga House. I wasn’t sure how I should share the images and cut them from a larger photo that I took. Most of our money goes toward paying bills, which means that most of my prized possessions were purchased in the past. We talked about the Cheyennes, Kiowas, Crows, among other subjects, and I went to bed blown away by Glen’s friendship and kindness.

Glen, my friend, you have been a highlight in my life. Your gift has floored me and I’m still struggling to accept it. Thank you, my friend, from the bottom of my heart.

A sad goodbye to Texas

On 14oct2014 we said goodbye to Ellen and Glen, but do hope to return again.

Ellen&Glen_wChewy_earlyAM_14oct14_wsEllen & Glen Williams, and Chewy (pictured at left) on the morning of 14oct2014, a morning in which Pailin and I hit the road early on our trip back to LA. I usually prefer to move forward in linear time, and did some juggling to make this happen here. This morning was both happy and sad for me. Sad in that we said goodbye to two friends I love, and a lifestyle that perhaps we’ll never know (and yet hope always burns eternal). (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, and Ellen & Glen Williams 2014)

Our boring drive ended in Tucumcari, New Mexico (room was decent but the food pitiful; I won’t bother to mention the restaurant). On the fifteenth we cruised along I-40. West of Albuquerque is the Acoma Pueblo. I believe it is the longest inhabited town in the United States. It sits on top of a 600-foot mesa and is my favorite pueblo but as Pailin had already seen Taos Pueblo we bypassed it. One of the reasons was the long walk during the tour, which is the only way visitors can experience it and the people that live there today. The sun also was a deterrent.

Gallup, New Mexico, and Pailin’s research introduction to Mr. Flynn

lk&ps_EF&elRanchoHotelCollage_15oct14_wsI’ve been passing through and sometimes staying in Gallup for a week or longer while using it as a base for research. This is not my favorite town and I’m not crazy over the food served in the restaurants. Love the red rocks, and at the same time this gorgeous area always makes me sad. Errol Flynn’s last western film, Rocky Mountain (Warner Bros., 1950) was basically a location shoot (not entirely, but close) and a good part of it was shot in the area surrounding Gallup. Flynn, the other actors, and the film crew stayed at the El Rancho Hotel, which is now a national historic site. So why am I sad? The film was shot in black and white. With the red rocks the centerpiece to the film, and they are something to behold, the film should have been shot in color. Warner Bros. was cutting back on film budgets as it continued to end its relationship with its major stars, Flynn included. Too bad, as Rocky Mountain is a decent film.

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Unfortunately you can’t read the EF signature on the Flynn photo at the El Rancho Hotel. It is not only a fraud, but the person who signed Flynn’s name had no clue of the spelling of his name. Flynn’s Name is “Errol Flynn” and the forger signed it “Earl” Flynn. This crap is all over the place when dealing with signatures. If you buy signatures be careful. BTW, this Flynn image dates from the early- to the mid-1940s. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

In the past I’ve explored the El Rancho Hotel’s expansive entry and upper floor that is open to the main floor as well as photograph the exterior. On 15oct2014 this would change as I felt it would be time to expand the physical research, which in turn would be right up Pailin’s alley. It was and she gleefully took requested photos along with ones that she wanted. After exploring we shared a salad in the hotel’s restaurant (it was decent) but afterwards we weren’t able to see the bar, as it didn’t open until 5:00 PM. I told them I was a writer doing research on a book (No ladies and gents: Although there will be a lot of western fact and fiction in Errol & Olivia as three of their eight films were westerns, Rocky Mountain won’t make it into that book), that I didn’t want a drink and just wanted to see the bar. This opened conversations about Flynn’s time in Gallup but it didn’t open the bar, which was locked—Some other time.

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LK leaning against the Vette just before we hit the road. Many more miles to cover, and LK needed to stay awake. The research for this trip had ended, and it was now time to get home safely. Pailin took this image, which shows the exterior to the El Rancho Hotel. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Gallup was our last point of interest stop as we still had roughly half of the 1400+ miles that I needed to drive since saying goodbye to Ellen and Glen. And each day felt longer than the previous. By the time we said goodbye to I-40 (in California) and drove south on I-15 I was bleary-eyed. Adding to the misery we had to deal with major roadwork with narrow pieces of road and idiots darting in and out of the two lanes. The trip would come in at 60 miles shy of 4,000. And as a bonus, the Automobile Club of Southern California (ACSC) reduced my insurance by $1,300.00; the bill was waiting for me when we returned home. And why not? Kraft is a good ol’ boy and hasn’t killed any cars lately and since he now works at home his driving mileage has shrunk big time. … Of course, if the ACSC had known how many miles the Vette had just covered they would have cried foul!

One final thing

I’m a biographer who focuses on race relations. That is I deal with people who turn their back on racial prejudice, and often attempt to bring an end to war as opposed to butchering people just because they are different. This was difficult to do in 1864 and it is still difficult in our day and age. A lot of people have problems with this. It’s their problem and not mine. Our world consists of many types of people—different races, religions, lifeways, and beliefs. If our world is to survive all of us must figure out how to peacefully coexist. If not … BOOM!!! … No more world as we know it and goodbye to the human race.

Today is a good day to be alive. …

Upcoming blogs

  • Newport Beach, editors, and friends
  • A surprise blog that comes out of left field
  • People who don’t do research but dish out opinion as if they know everything
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers
  • The song remembers when

— Louis Kraft

National Park Service, Ned Wynkoop, & a bad taste

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog

As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Warning: This blog is different than previous blogs

Although I get along with people I’m not the biggest joiner. Actually I’m a loner. I’m good all by myself, and I never get bored. Ask anyone who knows me in Los Angeles or anyone I know in the Indian wars world: Writer/historian/speakers, editors, the people that live these tumultuous times today working in museums and at national historic sites (NHS) or are what might be considered re-enactors.

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lk reciting a poem per the organizer’s request at the beginning of a symposium in El Segundo, Ca., on 24mar2001. A so-called Little Bighorn battle expert had contacted in the mid-1990s and read a part of his review of my Custer/Stone Forehead book. It was good and he duped me big time. I answered his questions. If a reviewer ever again contacts me with questions I will hang up or delete the email. This man was full of deceit; a hard lesson to learn. This blowhard would speak with me at this symposium. I told the man who organized it to keep him quiet or i would attack him with words. There was no confrontation. This was the beginning of me realizing that what I wrote about would sometimes garner a hostile response. Oh, I spoke about the Custer-Stone Forehead confrontation in March 1869. (photo © Louis Kraft 2001)

Let’s not forget the multitude of fabulous organizations that deal with this time period. They range from professional organizations such as Western Writers of America and the Western History Association to smaller groups that are more focused on specifics of the Indian wars such as the Fort Larned Old Guard, Order of the Indian Wars, and the Little Big Horn Associates (I’ve named a few; there are many-many more similar organizations).

I often help friends and people I don’t know when I can. That is, when I have knowledge  of something, or access to someone, that might help research and writing. See, I’m not a total mercenary. That said, I need to earn money. The reason is simple: My earning power is now about 25 percent of what it once was. Besides I like to eat once in awhile, and my car loves to gulp gasoline.

For those of you that don’t know how I choose my freelance writing subjects, it’s quite simple. Race relations is the joining thread. Certainly with my Indian wars writing (although Errol Flynn seems a strange choice to be one of my subjects, he was the most un-racial person I have ever written and spoken about—no one comes close to him, no one). In case you don’t know, I basically write biographies while moving easily into other writing formats when I feel like it.


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This is Ivan Hankla. He is a Southern Cheyenne who opened his lodge and heart to me in 2004 when I spoke at a two- or three-day event at Fort Larned NHS, Kans. Other than time required for my participation in the event I spent all my time with Ivan and James Coverdale, a Kiowa. This cemented a lasting relationship with Ivan (who, unfortunately, died a few years back). His tepee was a fully functional lodge as it would have been in the 1860s. He allowed me to photograph it and him over these days. My talk was on the last day and it dealt with George Armstrong Custer riding into the still warring Cheyenne village on Sweetwater Creek in the Texas panhandle in March 1869. More specifically it dealt with Custer’s meeting with Stone Forehead, the Southern Cheyenne chief, mystic, and keeper of the Cheyenne medicine (or sacred) arrows. Custer had an adjutant with him. At any time the Cheyennes could have killed him (and perhaps they might have died for doing it, but I don’t think so for the soldiers’ horses were as jaded as the Southern People’s mounts). I invited Ivan and James to the talk. Ivan told me that they weren’t paid participants of the event. I told him not to worry, that he and James were my guests. If they weren’t admitted to the talks and I couldn’t fix the problem that I wouldn’t speak (oh boy, there’s black mark against the Kraft name). There were no problems and they attended in full regalia. A good day for lk to be alive. (art © Louis Kraft 2014)

I think I should mention the images in this blog. There will be three types:

  • Cheyennes and Indian wars people: Friends, acquaintances, but with one ongoing link and that is our connection started with and/or continues because of what I write about the 1860s Cheyenne wars.
  • Collages that hopefully present background that I know a fair amount about Ned Wynkoop, Cheyennes, and the 1860s and the Wynkoop and the Cheyenne connection.
  • Publicity for my writing (sorry).

The goal of these images is simply to show with as little words as possible who I am and my connection to Wynkoop and the Cheyenne people.

Before moving forward I want to make the following clear.
Two national historic sites have been good to me over the years:
The Washita Battlefield NHS (Okla.) and the Fort Larned NHS (Kans.). What
follows has nothing to do with them. I’m proud to have spent hours walking
their grounds and hanging out with their staffs (some of whom have
become good friends). They have been responsible for bringing me
to Oklahoma and Kansas over and over again.
Good times; some of the best in my life.

Early April 2014 and a request

A friend sent me a draft of a National Park Service (NPS) two-page Ned Wynkoop brochure and asked if I’d review it. Wow, what a great idea: a Wynkoop brochure specifically created for the Sand Creek Massacre NHS and the Fort Larned NHS. I jumped at the chance with the hope that I could offer assistance to help the brochure shine.

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Dr. Henrietta Mann is the founding president of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribal College in Weatherford, Okla. Her resume is amazing and it covers the entire spectrum of education, including lecturing throughout the United States and the world. In 1991 the magazine Rolling Stone named her one of the top 10 professors in the U.S. She has served as technical consultant on numerous documentaries and a film I like: Last of the Dogmen (1995), which had the premise of Cheyenne Dog Men surviving the Sand Creek Massacre and living as they had in 1864 undiscovered into the 20th century. On 6dec2008, Henri listened to a talk I gave on Wynkoop and his relationship with the Cheyennes. She told me that I was her hero (let me tell you that after I heard her talk that night about the Cheyennes she became my heroine). Anyway, after I spoke on that December 6 morning we spent a lot of time together (and it cemented a friendship that continues to this day). We posed for this image right after we finished our lunch. I had met Henri the previous day (5dec2008) when she saw a performance of the Wynkoop one-man show at the three-day Washita Battlefield NHS symposium. (Photo © Leroy Livesay 2008)

Boy, was that ever a lofty ambition. Poof! Gone, long-time gone in a matter of minutes.

After reading only a handful of sentences I realized that the people who wrote the Wynkoop brochure didn’t do any real research (although I heard that the person who drafted the “Final Years” section did research Mr. Wynkoop). My guess is that the other writer(s) got most of their information off the internet (Oh nooooooo ….). Put kindly the two pages were little more than error-riddled prose that would be lucky to receive a passing grade in a high school English class. And those leading the project put it out for review! What were they thinking? … Oh, and if I didn’t mention it, I assume that the purpose of the brochure was and is to introduce Wynkoop and his relationship with Cheyennes and Arapahos to the general public. If yes, this brochure has failed terribly. Other than needing facts that are accurate, it needs focus. From my point of view (POV) the writers, the editor (was there an editor?), and those leading the effort didn’t put much time into the project. The draft sent to me showed little interest in the subject. Did the people assigned the project care? From my POV … No!

Let me tell you a little secret about earning a living
as a writer in the software industry: You had better deliver
accurate and readable prose on deadline. If you don’t
you are in deep “caca.” Let me say that another way:
Hell hath no fury like program and product management
with upper management serving as executioner.

I worked on the Wynkoop brochure for three solid weeks. I had 30 pages but they were not to my satisfaction. Even though I think I had been given a June deadline, that didn’t matter for I had run out of my time. Ready or not I submitted my last draft on May 1.

At this late date I can only assume that my 30-page review went directly to the circular file. There was no response. Nada. Not even, “We read it and we disagree with everything you wrote.” … So much for working for free. Yes, there is a bad taste in my mouth.

A change of focus

I accepted the assignment to review the Wynkoop brochure sight unseen. Once I had read it I wanted to improve the less-than-sparkling prose and the alarming number of errors presented on the two pages.

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The Wynkoop talk focused on his relationship with the Cheyennes. For the first time I used descriptive words in a talk to describe how the Cheyenne and Arapaho women, children, and men were sexually hacked to pieces at Sand Creek. I had previously used descriptive words in Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011). When talks have value and I like the subject matter they change and grow as they see life in my future. This was one of those talks.

Those of you that know my writing, know that I live with my projects for what might seem like forever and that over the years the people and projects I write about grow and expand as time passes. I prefer to know a lot about a little (by that I mean a lot about only a few people and the events in their lives) as opposed to a little about a lot. My delivery to the NPS included:

lk_GordonYellowman_7dec11

lk w/Principle Cheyenne Chief Gordon Yellowman (he is one of four principle chiefs). We met in 1999, when he and I spoke at a convention at Fort Larned NHS, and he and Cheyenne Chief Lawrence Hart blessed the Cheyenne-Lakota village site on the Pawnee Fork west of the fort. Since then we have talked at least twice at other events. This photo was taken at the end of a Washita Battlefield NHS two-day symposium on 12dec2011. Gordon, like Dr. Mann, has an impressive resume, which includes teaching art as an adjunct professor at the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribal College, and as the language director for the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes’ Department of Education. It is always good times when I am in the presence of this gentleman. I have a poster based upon artwork he created prior to our meeting in 1999 that represents the Sand Creek village before and after that fatal 29nov1864 attack upon people that thought that they were at peace. I framed his art and I treasure it. I hope to use it in the Sand Creek book. If I can make it work on the dust jacket, then there, … if not on one of the pages of the printed book. It will depend upon Chief Yellowman, Chuck Rankin (editor-in-chief at OU Press) and his art director. (photo © Washita Battlefield NPS 2011)

  • Kraft qualifications: This was probably overkill, but I have been writing articles, talks, plays, and books about Ned Wynkoop and the Cheyenne Indians (and that includes when they weren’t in the same article, talk, or book) since the mid-1980s). Reason: I figured that those working on the Wynkoop brochure had no idea who I am.
  • Reading suggestions:
    Totally distraught at the less than pristine research, I suggested a number of places to learn about Wynkoop and his relationship with the Cheyennes and Arapahos.
  • Review of the two-page Wynkoop brochure:
    I’m certain that teeth clamped tightly (and perhaps tore flesh inside their mouths) and curses directed at me flowed loudly in a blue-tainted color when my documented words were read.
  • A suggested brochure rewrite:
    At first I began offering rewriting suggestions in the various sections. It didn’t take me long to realize that these suggestions would be ignored, not read, or discarded (probably all). I rewrote the entire two-page draft and submitted it with the review (probably a major mistake).
  • Suggested brochure images:
    I also had a big problem with the images in the brochure draft sent me. Again, the NPS is selling Ned Wynkoop in two pages, but the park service drifts so far away from Wynkoop in most of their images that I almost fell asleep when looking at them. I placed my suggestions in the brochure rewrite section, and the images include the reasons why I suggested them over the images in the draft I reviewed.

Unfortunately my optimism blinded me from governmental reality (which I don’t know much about, but what little I do know dips alarmingly close to the dark side).

lk_jackieJohnson_FinalShowdownCollage_ws

Most of the characters in the novel lived, including Ned Wynkoop, Black Kettle, Stone Forehead, Bull Bear, and on and on. At this point in time (1992) it looked as if I would be a novelist (even though I had nonfiction articles published since the mid-1980s and I had been talking about my subjects at events in the western U.S.A. since that time. My next contracted novel dealt with Kit Carson and the Navajos. But—damn do I hate that word “but”—but the publisher decided to drop their “Western” line. I had an agent and she almost had a heart attack when I stated that I’d sue. She talked me out of it by insisting that I would be blacklisted (I know all about the blacklisting in the film industry). She was probably right, but I know that her main concern was her literary agency. Still I bought into what she said, but we soon parted company. Believe it or not, this opened the door for me to work out a deal with Dick Upton (Upton and Sons, Publishers) and begin writing nonfiction books. Bottom line: LK was one lucky frontiersman.

Those in power had plenty of time to read and digest the Wynkoop brochure review I submitted.

That’s it. End of story. As I said above I heard nothing. I still haven’t heard anything, and at this late date (and approaching September 2014) I don’t expect to hear anything …

… until I make an appearance on a National Historic Site and am recognized. If the review didn’t end my relationship with the National Park Service, this blog will. I’m certain that I’ll be escorted off the property by armed guards and told never to return (John Monnett, do you realize what’s in your future?).

In June a friend who was aware of my Wynkoop brochure review, and who offered suggestions, asked what had happened to the review. Heck, folks, The X-Files still lives (BTW, it, and Michael Parks’ Then Came Bronson, are the only TV shows I have ever liked), for I am certain that the review I submitted now resides in Neverland.

Regardless what people think of me and my writing, and there are people that have actually turned their back to me at conventions and symposiums after I have spoken about Ned Wynkoop and/or the Cheyennes. I guess they consider Wynkoop a traitor to his race and hell, man, the Cheyennes are Indians. You know, the villains of the American story of conquest. I must be a cretin—an un-American—that refuses to go away and die. Regardless of this anger by me directed at a backlash propagated by people that walk through life wearing blinders, my plays, articles, talks, and books that deal with Wynkoop and/or the Cheyennes speak for themselves.

There are two sides to every story

  • A fellow and gal fall in love, marry, and later divorce.
  • Two westerners packing revolvers draw on each other and one has his head blown off.
  • An army invades a foreign land and the people that call this land home fight back.

Another story

A few years back I appeared as the lone guest on one of the many LA talk radio shows. This station actually has two shows airing concurrently. I arrived early and while chatting with the radio host that would interview me I met the other radio host (a talkative fellow). After the hour interview ended (the interview focused on Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland) the host who interviewed me asked if I’d join him to eat a late dinner at a restaurant (it was now 10:00 PM). I agreed.

Before we got out the door the other radio host caught up to us and asked if he could join us. At the restaurant the radio host sat across from me while the other host sat next to him. The other host (vagueness is important here) never shut up while we ate. The host that interviewed me remained mostly quiet. This meant that I had to respond to an ongoing diatribe against the Germans during WWII. How the hell did this subject come up?

aaf_argintine_29x43inchPoster_ws

Against All Flags (Universal, 1952). The publicity for the film looked great, especially the American posters, but alas, the film didn’t. This is an Argentina one sheet.

Of course it moved to the genocide of the Jewish people (this genocide happened and it was heinous, but I didn’t want to talk about it). Was this fellow trying to bait me (you know, the false allegations against Errol Flynn). I’ll never know for I didn’t bite. Without warning the other host moved to the actress Maureen O’Hara. I’m not a fan of her films; actually I’ve never seen one of them that I liked (realize that there are many that I haven’t seen). I will say this, the pirate film she did with Flynn (Against All Flags, 1952) is the only swashbuckler of the nine he made that I have nothing positive to say. That said, I read her autobiography, which is a whitewash of her life and a waste of time. Why do people write this cliché crap that means nothing, and if they didn’t write it why do they allow their name to appear below the title?

That said, I know a fair amount about Ms. O’Hara as I have done a fair amount of study of John Wayne and John Ford and she pops up often.

Whew!!! This SOB other host tore into Ms. O’Hara as a heinous Nazi supporter.

mk&lk_lbh_25jun2011_lineArt_ws

This image of my daughter Marissa and I was taken on 25jun2011 after a Custer Battlefield Historical and Museum Association symposium in Hardin, Mont., where I talked about Errol Flynn’s Custer and the real Custer (not my best talk on the subject). After the event ended Marissa and I traveled to the LBH Battlefield National Monument with good friends Bob Williams and Linda Andreu Wald. Rain had pounded Montana before our arrival and the Yellowstone River had overflowed. But everything was green. A great time with Marissa, who has traveled extensively with me and knows my view on racism. This image is out of focus and has never had enough bytes for me to fix it, …. thus this line art quick fix (which is still lacking). That’s life; so be it.

Let me tell you racism has played a big part in most of my life. Give me five minutes with a person and I can tell you without batting an eye if they’re a racist or not. What he said about Maureen O’Hara I had never read or heard.

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On September 22, 2012, I spoke about Wynkoop’s efforts to prevent Maj. Gen. Winfield S. Hancock from destroying the Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork, about 35 miles (40 by auto) west of the Fort Larned NHS. Leo Oliva, who spoke on the village site with me on that day, had asked me to represent Wynkoop when he was inducted into the Santa Fe Trail Association Hall of Fame. The induction of Wynkoop and others took place during a huge dinner on the 21st. My friend George Elmore, chief ranger at Fort Larned, loaned me the buckskin coat for the three-day rendezvous jointly hosted by the Santa Fe Trail Association, Fort Larned NHS, and the Santa Fe Trail Center. He also took this image of me leaning against Wynkoop’s home and Indian agency at Fort Larned on the 22nd. My film was black & white and I colorized the image. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012 & 2014)

I smiled. The other host continued, eventually asking me to comment.

“I know a fair amount about this lady and I have never seen anything close to what you say.”

He refused to shut up, even though my eyes relaxed into my coolest Clint Eastwood glare. … The other host rattled onward.

My smile grew.

“What’s your problem?” he almost screamed.

Violence is violence and it should never happen. I have learned a lot over the years. One is of major importance: If you are going to be in a fight, you have two choices—win or run like hell. This man was a blowhard; actually a bully with words. This man was short and it didn’t look like he exercised. I said nothing. He stood and repeated the question.

I turned on my charm. “You. You’re a racist.”

“I’m not a racist!” My smile grew bigger yet. It unnerved him and he sat down. … After we paid the bill at the table he leaped up but kept his distance from me as he ran for the exit.

I was never invited back to this radio station, even though the host claimed over and over again that he would do a follow-up interview on Wynkoop, Cheyennes, and race relations.

No comment.

A July 25 email and the response

One of my best friends for many-many years is someone I met in the technical world in 1990. We’ve done a lot together and there is a bond between us that is special. He is half Cheyenne, although that has had nothing to do with our relationship. I trust him and often he offers me more than support and friendship for he gives me opinion, review, and advice. Alas, a couple of years back he left SoCal to return to his homeland.

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Although not stated in the collage, Stone Forehead plays a leading role in Custer and the Cheyenne: George Armstrong Custer’s Winter Campaign on the Southern Plains (Upton and Sons, Publishers, 1995). As noted above, he played a role in The Final Showdown. He had a smaller role in the Wynkoop book, but he will have as large a role as possible in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway (contracted with OU Press).

On July 25, 2014, I sent a long email to a business associate who has become my friend over the years.

One of the paragraphs read: “In the spring I reviewed a proposed two-page brochure on Wynkoop for the National Park Service. The two pages were a joke. Often a sentence contained one or more errors and I don’t think any of the paragraphs were error free. It took three weeks to submit a 30-page document that pointed out the errors with citations that backed up the commentary along with documented facts and suggested rewrites. The response: Zero. Not even a ‘we received it.’ Recently a friend asked what happened, and I told him nothing. ‘Hell, if they trashed what you sent, some of what you submitted would make good copy for one or more blogs.’ (He was privy to what I submitted.) Good idea, and I’m considering it.”

The friend’s response: “Yes, why not post your neglected response to the NPS?

What to do?

lk_computer_2014Ahhh, for there’s the rub. Obviously this blog will make me public enemy No. 1 to the NPS. Just like the racist radio host, I’ve gotten to that age in life where I’m not going to be a good boy and “Yes sir” people to death with views to which I don’t agree. The reason: I don’t care what they think of me, I don’t care if they hire me again, but more important I need to be true to me.

lk the thinker (left). Yeah, I hate to say it, but this is the real me and it is totally focused on my writing projects. I don’t want to say 24/7 but it’s close.

“What to do?’ … yeah I sometimes vacillate

What I can’t or won’t do: Give you my background, post the NPS two-page Wynkoop brochure, and I’m not going to give you the cited documentation to my critique. That leaves me two choices: Drag my rewrite of the two-page brochure into this blog or mimic their draft with my words and image suggestions in place. The second idea is easily doable but it will cost me many hours to duplicate the NPS design. Why waste my time for an organization—the NPS—that doesn’t give a bleep in the first place? I will provide my rewrite of the NPS draft along with a discussion of some the NPS statements, omissions, and errors that bothered me. I’m going to include my image suggestions to the NPS document in the section of the blog that contains my suggested rewrite to the NPS embarrassment.

NPS Wynkoop brochure errors & omissions

Errors are errors and the blatant ones directly related to Wynkoop shouldn’t be repeated ad nauseam in print. They should be pointed out. Also, the NPS also lost focus of their topic and because of this (or perhaps because the writers had no clue what Wynkoop did and/or way-too often omitted what Wynkoop did). Some of these omissions are as large and glaring as the errors. Fear not, for I have no intention of pointing out poor English or spelling errors in this blog (at least I hope not). The brochure headings are listed as in the original NPS Wynkoop brochure draft supplied me.

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LK with Leo Oliva (left) and George Elmore at Fort Larned NHS in April 2012. These two fellows over many years have been responsible for bringing me back to Kansas time and again. A good relationship that has led to friendship.

Early Years (1836-1861)

LK note: I had a lot of problems with this section, but most of them dealt with writing and focus.

  • I asked that the statement that Wynkoop was good with a Bowie knife be removed. Reason: There is only one quote that I have seen that stated he carried a Bowie knife. This does not mean that he was “good” with this weapon. There are images of Wynkoop with firearms but none with a Bowie knife. There is documentation that backs the premise that Wynkoop was “good” firing guns, but other than that one sentence that says he carried a Bowie knife, there is nothing.

ERROR: Wynkoop didn’t move to the “small mining settlement of Denver” for the simple reason that it didn’t exist yet.

He had no duties to perform as sheriff as there was no town or city, no laws, and no jail. Wynkoop’s title of “sheriff” meant nothing; it consisted of words on a piece of paper that the men in the area refused to accept. Of interest: Wynkoop might have named the proposed city that would someday occupy the land that he and other members of the Denver City Town Company, including William Larimer, claim-jumped from the St. Charles Town Company in November 1858: “Denver.”

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I met Deb Goodrich Bisel in 2008 when she invited me to give a couple of Wynkoop-Cheyenne talks in Kansas in May of that year. During the week that I stayed with her and her family, which also included her interviewing me on her radio show in Topeka, we became friends. Good friends. Whenever I see this talented person it is just like the last time was the previous week. She is a bright, funny, and caring writer-historian. This image was taken by Frank Bodden at the Centennial, Co., Order of the Indian Wars symposium hotel on the evening after I talked about Wynkoop lashing in to the U.S. government for what he considered the murder of innocent people in April 2013 (sorry Frank, but I didn’t have enough bytes and played around with the image). I call this my snow trip as I spent eleven days in Colorado and on at least six or seven of them I was snowbound and grounded.

ERROR: Wynkoop didn’t perform any “duties” as sheriff until after he returned to Denver City in late1859.

At that time the budding Denver City still had no jail, he reported to no one, and actually his position dealt with criminal events that happened outside the city limits. No real law existed in Denver or the surroundings and most of the rough and tumble crowd that then occupied the area ignored Wynkoop’s assignment as “sheriff,” which only paid upon arrest and conviction by a “people’s” court (that’s right, no judicial system existed in 1859-1860). This meant that Wynkoop went hungry more often than he feasted. It also meant that he had a lot of free time to figure out other ways to earn money.

Wynkoop did sell some property (mostly within Denver City limits) that he owned as he had been one of the founding members of the Denver City Town Company. He earned extra and much-needed money tending bar in Charlie Harrison’s Criterion Saloon in Denver beginning in1860.

ERROR: Wynkoop never earned money as an actor.

Almost all (if not all) professional actors arrived in Denver as members of acting troupes. Usually there might only be one, two, or three professional actors performing in a play. The rest of the actors that performed on the Denver stage at this time were “amateurs” and they acted without pay. Beginning in late 1859 and extending through 1860 and into pre-Civil War 1861 most of the acting was performed in drinking and gambling houses. During the winter months often many of the men had nothing to do as harsh weather prevented mining. I believe that Wynkoop went on the stage simply as he wanted to meet and woo Louise Matilda Brown Wakely.

LK comment: Actually I think you should totally drop all references to Wynkoop’s acting career to create additional room for Wynkoop’s relationship and interactions with the Cheyennes.

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ERROR: Major misspelling of Wynkoop’s future wife’s first name plus an erroneous middle initial.

Currently her name is listed as LOUIS B. WAKELY. “Louis” is a man’s name; her name was “Louise” with an “e.” Also, using a “B” as her middle initial is WRONG. If you want to use a middle initial, use “M” for “Matilda” as that was her middle name. “B” stands for “Brown,” which was the name of her mother’s first husband and her father.

LK suggestion: List Louise as “Louise Wakely” (my preference) or as “Louise M. Wakely.” BTW, “Wakely,” the name that Louise used at the time she met Wynkoop was her stepfather’s last name.

ERROR: Louise Wynkoop was not a singer and didn’t sing on stage. This comment should be deleted.

LK comment: I have seen nothing that states that Louise sang on the stage. However, since one of her sisters sang on the stage (yes, there were three sisters) and she constantly was recognized as a singer while there were no mentions of Louise singing, this seems like a no-brainer. Check the index in Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011) for Flora Wakely, Louise’s youngest sister, or do your own research.

Civil War Years (1861-1865)

Although this section is listed as “Civil War Years (1861-1865)” it is totally mislabeled for Wynkoop’s involvement with the Civil War basically ended in fall 1862 when he returned to Colorado Territory, and perhaps you can extend it to 1863 (as the Colorado military continued to watch for another invasion). When this section moves to 1864 (and even though the Civil War was still in progress, the focus has moved to the Cheyennes and Arapahos. More importantly it has moved to the lead-up to the tragic attack on the Sand Creek village in November 1864. As currently labeled the Sand Creek section should be part of this section and as currently listed the “Sand Creek” heading should be removed and the text from that section should be moved into this section.

I totally disagree with what I said above. The Sand Creek section (as you originally created it) needs to remain standalone. That said, portions of this section should move into the Sand Creek section and this section should be re-dated.

Charge this section to: “Civil War Years (1861-1862)” or perhaps “(1861-1863),” for this can be justified as Wynkoop remained on the alert for a second Confederate invasion (but I don’t think this should be discussed as it would take up precious space in your document).

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Glen Williams & lk at Mission San Xavier del Bac on 15jan2012, which is west of Tucson, Ariz. I needed this trip with my good friend (really a brother whom I met shortly after my brother died in 1990). Our relationship grew slowly but over the years he has become a great friend who is an adventurer with a great interest in the world we live in and in our Indian wars past. If you have paid close attention to some my experiences in the blogs you are aware that at times I am capable of getting myself into trouble. Oftentimes Glen is a calming influence as we explore the present and our American heritage. (art © Louis Kraft 2014)

We will obviously miss Wynkoop’s 1863 Ute Indian campaign (thus a gap in your heading dates, unless you use the second dating, which is my choice in the previous paragraph). You have two pages (front and back of one piece of paper) to state what is important and the focus must remain true to what you want to sell: Wynkoop’s relationship with Cheyennes (and to a lesser degree his relationship with Arapahos). This has got to be the focus, and I don’t think you should deviate from it.

The above is editorial opinion, and I sincerely hope you are not offended by it but agree with it.

ERROR: Wynkoop became a 2nd lieutenant on July 31, 1861, and not in August.

ERROR: “The Coloradans joined New Mexico’s Union forces and defeated the Confederates at the Battle of Glorieta Pass…” No. There were no New Mexican forces at this battle. However, there were troops from the 1st and 3rd U.S. Cavalries present.

ERROR: As currently written, the regiment returned to Colorado and then Chivington and Wynkoop were promoted and the regiment became a cavalry regiment. NO! The Glorieta victory didn’t stop the Confederate threat and the invasion hadn’t ended. This didn’t happen until the Battle of Peralta near Los Lunas, New Mexico Territory, in April 1862. Also, that April, and while still in New Mexico Territory Chivington became colonel of the regiment, which then had a “name change” and not a reorganization (that came probably in November). The 1st Regiment of Colorado Infantry became the 1st Regiment of Colorado Cavalry (I’ve also seen 1st Colorado Cavalry Volunteer Regiment), perhaps as early as April but certainly by November 1862 (as you state). Wynkoop received his promotion to major on April 14, 1862. The next day, April 15, the Battle of Peralta ended the Confederate invasion as the Rebels now hustled to get out of New Mexico Territory. There were New Mexican Union soldiers at this battle.

LK comment: I have seen many names for the newly named 1st Colorado Cavalry, and I’m probably good with whichever name you decide upon.

LK comment: Move the third and fourth paragraphs to the “Sand Creek Massacre (1864-1865) section.

Sand Creek Massacre

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I like this image of my daughter Marissa. It hangs on a wall at Tujunga House. Using it here is mainly a reminder to me that I have a lot of research images on 35mm slides but no projector and need to get the slides digitized. We had been tracking Custer when Jerry Russell’s Order of the Indian Wars 1987 tour would end at the supposed Sand Creek Massacre site on private property. I called Jerry and asked if we could join the trip to Sand Creek and following banquet. He graciously said yes. This actually turned into an article on modern-day historians for True West (1990). While the tour assembled on the bluffs, Marissa and I explored the land below. (photo © Louis & Marissa Kraft 1987)

LK comment: This section has no dates. I suggest adding “(1864-1865)” to the title of the section to retain consistency with the rest of the document: “Sand Creek Massacre (1864-1865).”

LK comment: I moved paragraphs three and four from the Civil War section to this section and these paragraphs are now paragraphs one and two in this section (see the suggested LK draft, below). BTW, I had problems with both paragraphs and commented upon the NPS text within the paragraphs (this you won’t see in the blog).

LK question: Was Left Hand’s band part of Little Raven’s band? If not, I believe that you should feature Left Hand as he and a small number of Arapahos were at Sand Creek and Little Raven wasn’t at the time of the November 29 attack.

LK request: I’ve recently heard (without seeing documentation) that Left Hand is being removed from the Sand Creek Massacre NHS. If so, why? If Left Hand wasn’t at Sand Creek and didn’t receive wounds that ended his life there I would like to see proof. This is a major request from me for if true it needs to be in the Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway manuscript that I’m currently writing.

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After the speakers and music completed at the Washita Battlefield NHS overlook on 11nov2011 I captured this image of Moses Starr of the Red Moon Signers & Drum Group (left) and W. Richard (Rick) West. I met Rick for the first time before the event began and then spent a lot of time with him on the 12th, when we lunched together. We had plenty of time to talk. Rick is a Cheyenne peace chief. He is also the founding director and director emeritus of the National Museum of the American Indian at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. Recently he became president and CEO of the Autry National Center in Los Angeles, Calif. (I believe in December 2012). (photo © Louis Kraft 2011)

LK comment: You have repeated Black Kettle’s quote, “This white man is not here to laugh at us…but, on the contrary, unlike the rest of his race, he comes with a confidence in the pledges given by the red man,” which is in the subtitle of the brochure, and quoting it a second time is redundant. To save space I suggest cutting it here.

BTW, the George Bent quote in the subtitle is not redundant at the end of the document as he sums up what Wynkoop meant to the Cheyennes and Arapahos.

lk_nw67_2007portrait_smWEB

As you know I take photos and create art. The reason is twofold: 1) Often there are not enough historical images to tell a story (and publishers rightly don’t like to keep printing the same images over and over again), and 2) They can bring in much-needed money. I created this portrait of Wynkoop in 2007. Since then it has appeared in two anthologies and two magazines. (art © Louis Kraft 2007)

ERROR: You called John Evans a “new” territorial governor, which implies that he was a novice and didn’t know what his duties were. By late summer/early fall 1864, Evans, who was the second territorial governor of Colorado Territory, had served as governor longer than William Gilpin had during his entire tenure as the first territorial governor.

ERROR: You state that the Cheyennes and Arapahos that moved to the Big Sandy and were involved in the Sand Creek Massacre made the move in mid-October 1864.

The Cheyennes and Arapahos that were attacked at Sand Creek on November 29, 1864, didn’t make the move until after Anthony replaced Wynkoop as commander of Fort Lyon in November (at least Black Kettle, Little Raven, and Left Hand didn’t; for Left Hand and Little Raven met with Anthony and Wynkoop in November, and later Left Hand and Black Kettle met with Anthony and Wynkoop. Anthony reached Fort Lyon on November 2 but didn’t inform Wynkoop that he was replacing him as commander until November 5 (see below for the reason why Anthony replaced Wynkoop). After being replaced by Anthony, Wynkoop and Anthony met with Little Raven and Left Hand (their village, which was about a mile from the post consisted of 113 lodges and 652 people.). At this meeting, Left Hand said that he “was willing to submit to anything; that the whites might place him in irons, or kill him, but that he would not fight them.” A short while later, Anthony, Wynkoop, Capt. Silas Soule, Lt. Joseph Cramer, and Lt. William Minton (Minton was a member of the First New Mexico Volunteers) met with Black Kettle and Left Hand at the commissary on the hill above Fort Lyon (this was the former Bent’s New Fort, which William Bent had sold to the military). It was at this meeting that Anthony told the Indians that if they moved to Sand Creek that they would be under the protection of the military. And, AND they didn’t move away from the post until Anthony insisted that they move away. According to Anthony, Black Kettle and his band reached Sand Creek on about November 17, as he placed it 12 days before Chivington attacked the Sand Creek village on November 29.

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Wynkoop’s home & Indian agency was located just outside the perimeter of Fort Larned, and southwest of officer’s row on the western side of the post and just south of the bend in the Pawnee Fork (this view is from the east/slightly northeast). The southern wall of the Wynkoop agency/residence (photo left, and not seen in this image) had two wooden walls with stones between the walls to protect against ride-by shootings. When Cheyennes (such as Black Kettle, Tall Bull, Stone Forehead, and Roman Nose) visited Wynkoop at the agency they and the people that then traveled with them camped to the south and west of the building. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

MISSTATEMENT, and as Stated, an ERROR: Wynkoop set out for Kansas to assume command of Fort Riley (although he would command it for a few days in December 1864).

Wynkoop had been removed from command at Fort Lyon for being absent from his post in time of war and had disobeyed orders, risked his command, and met with warring Indians in September 1864, and it looked as if he would face a court-martial. Anthony informed Wynkoop that his orders were to investigate officers (meaning Wynkoop) that fed hostile Indians in violation of orders. The military wanted to get rid of Wynkoop, and as quickly as possible as it viewed him as little more than an embarrassment. Hell, a war was going on; you don’t try to make peace and end it and that is exactly what Wynkoop attempted to do.

ERROR: You state that Col. John Chivington and his combined First and Third Volunteer Cavalries departed Fort Lyon on November 29. Actually Chivington’s command left Fort Lyon on the evening of November 28 at 8:00 PM.

MAJOR ERROR: Wynkoop didn’t visit the Sand Creek village site before he wrote his January 15, 1864, Sand Creek report on the massacre. Although he might have traveled to the site before June 1865 when he took Joint Special Committee members Senators James Rood Doolittle, Lafayette S. Foster, Edmund G. Ross, and Gen. A. McDowell McCook to see the bloody ground, this isn’t confirmed. We know that Wynkoop visited the site with Doolittle in June 1865. FYI: They saw the skeletal heads of small children with bullet holes through the top of their sculls showing how they might have died.

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Leo Oliva speaking about the events that led up to the April 1867 destruction of the Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork by Maj. Gen. Winfield S. Hancock on 22sept2012. This three-day rendezvous co-sponsored by the Fort Larned NHS, Santa Fe Trail Center, and Santa Fe Trail Association was a marvelous affair. It included talks, re-enactors, book signings, and historic personages being inducted into the Santa Fe Trail Association Hall of Fame. Leo gave his talk from the east side of the Cheyenne village site. As you can see, I was to his left and slightly behind him. The crowd also circled to his right, with some behind and above him where the main portion of the village had been located. Leo and I were the only two speakers at the village site on that day. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

Timeline for Wynkoop’s Sand Creek report: Wynkoop arrived at Fort Lyon on the evening of January 14, 1865, assumed command the next day, interviewed participants and non-participants of the attack, and on that same January 15th day submitted his Sand Creek report.

LK comment: The investigations into the attack on the Sand Creek village were exploratory for information on the tragic event; they never were investigations that would lead to a trial as Chivington had mustered out of the military before the investigations began, which placed the colonel beyond military court-martial.

Indian Agent (1866-1868)

ERROR: Wynkoop was not an Indian agent at the Little Arkansas River peace council in fall 1865. He commanded the military escort for the peace commissioners.

pawneeFork_Hart&YellowmanBlessing_24apr1999_tight_ws

The day is April 24, 1999, and it was a special day, for on this day Cheyenne chiefs Lawrence Hart and Gordon Yellowman blessed the Cheyenne-Lakota village site that Maj. Gen. Winfield S. Hancock destroyed in April 1867. Cheyenne Chief Lawrence Hart stands just right of center with his hands folded. Cheyenne Chief Gordon Yellowman is praying at the right of the image. About four people to the left of Chief Hart (as we look at the image) is Connie Yellowman with the robe wrapped around her, Gordon’s wife. I met her early on the first day of the Fort Larned Old Guard event when both of us went to the office of our lodging to get coffee. She had read Custer and the Cheyenne, knew I’d be present, and brought her copy of the book for me to sign. Ladies and gents, in case you don’t know it I have written extensively about the Southern Cheyennes and have always been true to my view that people are people and that there are always two sides to a story. Connie loved what I had written about the Cheyennes. The sergeant at the far left of the image is George Elmore. At this time he was chief historian at Fort Larned NHS (he is now chief ranger at my favorite destination, which always includes the Pawnee Fork village site). I met George in 1990 or 1991 when I researched the novel The Final Showdown. He gave my daughter Marissa and I a private tour of the fort. I have photos, but unfortunately they are slides and were never printed and now reside in boxes and long unseen—I need to do something about this, and soon, as I have many images dealing with my research that are on slides. Sorry about duplicating what I said above in the image of my daughter but this task is a must. (photo © Louis Kraft 1999)

OMISSION: Wynkoop renegotiated the 1865 treaty agreement in spring 1866 with Cheyennes, Dog Men, and Arapahos that had mostly avoided the peace council. Wynkoop was on detached duty from the military at the time. Wynkoop arrived at the Bluff Creek, Kans., camp on February 25. Black Kettle was present, as was Stone Forehead, Keeper of the Sacred Arrows (a coup for Wynkoop). The next morning Dog Men waited for Wynkoop outside his tent, and they weren’t friendly. On February 28 Wynkoop held an initial meeting with Cheyenne and Dog Men leaders. That night he learned that Dog Man Porcupine Bear threatened to kill him if any Cheyennes or Dog Men touched the treaty paper. Nevertheless a nervous Wynkoop held his main council with the Cheyennes and Dog Men on March 1. Bull Bear and Black Kettle helped Wynkoop, who kept calm and got most of the Indians to agree to the changed treaty. However, Dog Men threatened Black Kettle if he touched the updated treaty paper and the chief didn’t make his mark on the paper. And there’s more. Wynkoop spoke with Little Raven’s Arapahos on March 2, and later yet had a second meeting with other Dog Men. Wynkoop also received a young woman whose freedom had been purchased while he was still at the first council site.

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This is one of my favorite photos of all time (so much so that it is the header for my website/blog). I took this image on 23apr1999 when Leo & Bonita Oliva and George Elmore took me (and my then girlfriend) on a private tour to the Pawnee Fork village site and then an exploration of the site. Some of the Cheyenne re-enactors had set up their lodges on the Cheyenne portion of the village site. One of them invited us to spend time in his lodge. During our visit with him and other Cheyenne re-enactors he boiled buffalo tongue over the open flame at the center of the tepee. For me this was a very cool experience. (photo © Louis Kraft 1999)

OMISSION: In 1867 you attempt to deal with Maj. Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock’s destruction of the Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork but you have totally missed Wynkoop’s participation in the events that led up to the destruction of a peaceful village, which started yet another Indian war as Wynkoop warned.

OMISSION: What happened at the meeting at Fort Larned, with Cheyenne leaders including Dog Man Chief Tall Bull? Wynkoop was present and mixed-blood Cheyenne Edmund Guerrier interpreted when Hancock threatened the Indians with war. What about Tall Bull asking Wynkoop to stop Hancock from moving toward the Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village as the Indians feared another Sand Creek? I’m afraid you are missing a major point here.

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I had created this montage before I began to piece together this blog. In Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek I used the word “Sioux” to represent the people I was writing about, mainly because the primary source quotes called these people Sioux. Words that represent people have changed as language usage has changed. In the blog I chose to call these people “Lakotas.” I don’t know which word I’ll use in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. However, I know that the primary source quotes will still say “Sioux.” This is a problem that I’ll think about right up until I deliver my polished manuscript. That said, I should say something else here. I use Cheyenne words in my writing whenever possible, and believe me the spelling of these words has matured and changed quite a bit since the 1980s. That said, this is an ongoing quest for me for I want to know the Tsistsistas’ words, I want to know how to pronounce them. and believe me I use the spoken words in talks and plays. It is a living language, and it must never die. I’m sorry, “Tsistsistas” means “Cheyennes” (a white word); it means “The People.” There is much more to the Tsistsistas’ name, much more. Simply, it represents the Northern and the Southern Cheyennes, and the Dog Men military society (remember, “Dog Soldiers” is a white man word) that for all intensive purposes functioned as a third segment of the tribe by the 1850s. There is much more I can say here. I have said a lot in past books and in some articles, and will say more in the Sand Creek book.

OMISSION: The fear of another Sand Creek attack was already in place long before Hancock reached the village (and as pointed out above, Tall Bull told Wynkoop of this fear after the meeting with Hancock). … You’ve missed another dramatic situation. Why not highlight the Indian battle line that confronted Hancock’s army miles before it reached the Pawnee Fork village? Wynkoop rode between the lines and prevented a battle that day. This is well documented.

ERROR: The Pawnee Fork village was occupied when Hancock’s army set up camp near it. This is well documented.

OMISSION: What about Wynkoop’s massive efforts to save the village from destruction after the Indians fled their village in fear of their lives? You’re writing about Wynkoop and yet you ignore this. Unbelievable.

LK suggestion: Read the chapter on “Hancock’s War” in Kraft, Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011), 178-201, and William Y. Chalfant, Hancock’s War: Conflict on the Southern Plains (Norman, Oklahoma: The Arthur H. Clark Company, 2010) for information on what happened at the Pawnee Fork in April 1867.

LK comment: Obviously I have major problems with the Hancock 1867 expedition to confront the Cheyennes and Wynkoop’s participation in the events. You miss what happened, you miss the dramatics of what happened, and you exclude Wynkoop from the events, even though you are supposedly featuring him in this brochure.

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Principle Cheyenne Chief Gordon Yellowman (left) and traditional Cheyenne Peace Chief Harvey Pratt (who I met for the first time) on 11nov2011 at a Washita Battlefield NHS two-day symposium. On this day Gordon blessed the Washita village site and Harvey spoke about Cheyenne warriors of the past and today. Unfortunately Harvey had to leave right after he spoke. On the 12th Gordon talked about what it is like to be a Cheyenne chief. Hopefully both will review my upcoming Sand Creek manuscript. (photo © Louis Kraft 2011)

LK comment: The NPS allowed three paragraphs for this section, and here is the final paragraph: “In September 1868, after a series of Cheyenne raids in Kansas, Major General William T. Sherman declared war on the Southern Cheyenne. Sherman’s winter campaign punished all Indians, both friendly and hostile. When Wynkoop realized that he could no longer protect the peaceful Indians, he resigned as Indian Agent in protest. He wanted no part in the murdering of innocent Indians.”

LK comment: Yikes!!! The above paragraph is true. But you have missed Wynkoop’s attempt to end the war, and worse Custer’s destruction of Black Kettle’s Cheyenne village on the Washita River on November 27, 1868, is ignored. In case you didn’t know it Wynkoop spoke before a standing room only audience at the Cooper Union in New York City damning what he considered the murder of innocent people. This is a very short paragraph and room must be made to rewrite and increase the word count.

************

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Craig Moore leads a group of people on a tour of the upper Washita Battlefield NHS trail. Moore is a ranger at the Sand Creek Massacre NHS and helped out on this last day of the three-day event (December 4-6, 2008); I gave two performances as Wynkoop on the first two days and on the third spoke about his relationship with the Cheyennes. When Moore passed Custer Hill, the location from which Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer observed the battle of the Washita (27nov1868), a tragic day for on it Cheyenne Council Chief Black Kettle, his wife Medicine Woman Later (Voh-is-ta), Cheyenne Council Chief Little Rock, and others who did everything possible to remain at peace with the United States died. It was here that Custer learned that soldiers shot at women and children. He rushed to stop the outrage. Ben Clarke (yes, that is correct for I have seen over 500 pages in Clarke’s handwriting including signed letters and he always signed his last name with an “e”), Custer’s chief of scouts confirmed this, and Clarke was no friend of Custer. Three years later Moore spoke of Cheyenne lineage as related to the Sand Creek Massacre in November 2011. I spoke on Wynkoop’s outrage on that day, but he wanted nothing to do with me. Perhaps because I inserted a running commentary during his 2008 tour of the upper Washita, including comments about Stone Forehead. He allowed me to do it, but I don’t think he was pleased. (photo © Leroy Livesay 2008)

LK comment: Wynkoop will forever be remembered for his attempt to end the 1864 Cheyenne war, but the Wynkoop that should forever be remembered is the Wynkoop that did everything he could to prevent innocent people from being killed for the actions of the guilty in 1868. Although this won’t be in the brochure, it should be a highlight in the brochure.

Later Life (1869-1891)

LK note: The below paragraph is in response to this final section in the NPS brochure.

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Ivan Hankla had set up his tepee at the Washita Battlefield NHS three-day symposium in December 2008. Ivan is at the left in his lodge. The fellow on the right is his nephew, Jake, who helped him at the event. The day was 6dec2008, and it was the last time I saw my friend on this earth. (photo © Leroy Livesay 2008)

LK comment: This paragraph discusses information in detail that drifts far from Wynkoop’s Indian years, and although nicely written doesn’t add value to the brochure. John Chivington didn’t become Wynkoop’s “nemesis,” for Wynkoop simply ignored the man after Sand Creek. Chivington had become a symbol to Wynkoop, the man responsible for the butchery of people that had been guaranteed safety. For the rest of his life Wynkoop refused to acknowledge Chivington other than in relation to the attack at Sand Creek, which he considered a criminal act. Yes, Chivington played a key role in getting Louise Wynkoop Ned’s pension after his death, and he said kind words about Ned.

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LK sitting near the bay window in the living room of Tujunga House (8may2004). Ivan Hankla made and gave me the parfleche above my head that April. It is a treasured gift. (photo © Louis Kraft 2004)

There’s always a damned “but.” … But your words have redeemed Chivington at the end of the brochure and leaves the reader with a positive final view of him. It’s good that Wynkoop was “honest and always a gentleman,” but I think here if you are going to use a quote by far the best choice is to repeat George Bent’s quote about Wynkoop. Reason: Not many white men tried to help American Indians. Wynkoop was one of the few whites that truly worked for American Indians, and Bent’s handful of words recognize this. I firmly believe that you should eliminate all reference to Chivington in the final section and go with Bent’s quote.

LK suggested rewrite of NPS Wynkoop brochure

The following is the suggested lk rewrite of the NPS Wynkoop brochure

This brochure is about Wynkoop. Often—way too often—the focus ignores this. If you want to bring his name to the fore of the Cheyenne Indian wars and point out what he did to walk between the races and work for Cheyennes and Arapahos you must maintain focus throughout the entire brochure. This can be done.

What follows isn’t egotistical. Rather it is an attempt to help you create a brochure that is not only true to who Ned Wynkoop was but will give the public that read the brochure a solid vision of who this man was and what he meant to the Cheyennes and Arapahos. … I am submitting a rewrite for this brochure (below). I hope you look at the words and decide if they present to the public who Ned Wynkoop was and why he was important to our Indian wars past.

LK note: I listed both my word count and the NPS brochure draft word count below each paragraph.

Wynkoop brochure heading

Edward W. (Ned) Wynkoop

Wynkoop brochure subheadings

“Best friend [the] Cheyennes and Arapahos ever had.”
- Mixed-blood Cheyenne George Bent

“This white man is not here to laugh at us…but on the contrary, unlike the rest of his race, he comes with a confidence in the pledges given by the red man.”
Cheyenne Chief Black Kettle

Early Years (1836-1860)

While growing up in Philadelphia Edward “Ned” Wynkoop (born June 19, 1836) acquired a strong sense of duty, loyalty to country, and racial tolerance from his mother and older siblings. Intelligent, Wynkoop excelled at school and possessed a sound understanding of politics and diplomacy.
(LK paragraph word count, 44; NPS paragraph word count, 45)

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The NPS chose the 1861 standing portrait of Wynkoop by his father-in-law that was created shortly after he became a captain in the 1st Colorado Volunteer Regiment as their leading image in the brochure. Wonderful choice! My editor at OU Press, Chuck Rankin, wanted to use the great image of Wynkoop, Capt. Silas Soule, Black Kettle, Bull Bear, John Smith, and others that was taken after the September 28, 1864, Camp Weld conference ended. I spent days trying to crop the image and make it work on a dust jacket and failed. I told Chuck that I wanted the 1861 portrait on the Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek dust jacket. I also said that I wanted it colorized. The art director made it clear that OU Press didn’t colorize, but they did do duotones. This fellow, who doesn’t think much of me, created this great cover for the Wynkoop book. I couldn’t have been happier (even though the art director might have a different opinion). I’m certain that when I finally deliver the Sand Creek manuscript that he will begin to have heart palpitations, and cry out: “Oh Lord, no more Kraft!” That’s right, I have a sparkling reputation with production teams.

In 1856 Wynkoop followed his sister Emily and her husband to Lecompton, Kansas Territory, to seek his fortune. At this time violence predominated as Free-Staters and pro-slavery Border Ruffians battled for supremacy. To survive Wynkoop became skilled with weapons.
(LK paragraph word count, 39; NPS paragraph word count, 50)

LK note: This shortened paragraph may allow the Wynkoop portrait to move up slightly on the page.

Two years later Wynkoop migrated to the gold region to the east of the Rocky Mountains that would eventually become the city of Denver. At this time there was no town, law, or government. Although Denver began to thrive by spring 1860, Wynkoop, like many, struggled to survive as he worked as miner, land speculator, sheriff (which paid only upon conviction), and bartender. On the wild side, Wynkoop hung out with a rough crowd and became known as a “bad man from Kansas.” A professional actress named Louise Wakely caught his eye and he wooed her.
(LK paragraph word count, 96; NPS paragraph word count, 97)

Civil War Years (1861-1863)

An Act of Congress created Colorado Territory on February 28, 1861. Less than two months later the Civil War began. Rumors swirled of a Confederate invasion of the Southwest. With the gold region threatened, in June the first territorial governor. William Gilpin. created the 1st Regiment of Colorado Volunteers even though he had no War Department authorization and no funds. Although Wynkoop still fluctuated between law and lawlessness Louise had calmed him down. He enlisted, and on July 31 received a commission as second lieutenant of Company A. On August 21 Wynkoop married Louise, and before month’s end a promotion made him captain and reporting to Major John M. Chivington.
(LK paragraph word count, 109; NPS paragraph word count, 110)

In January 1862 a Confederate brigade entered New Mexico Territory and defeated Union forces at the Battle of Valverde. Orders sent Wynkoop and the 1st Regiment south to confront the invasion. The Coloradans defeated the Confederates at what has since been known as the Battle of Glorieta Pass (March 26-28). When the regiment’s commanding officer resigned in April promotions made Chivington colonel and Wynkoop major. On April 15 Chivington, Wynkoop, and the Coloradans, along with New Mexico Volunteers, defeated Rebel forces at the Battle of Peralta, near Las Lunas, and ended the Southern invasion. By November 1862 the regiment became the 1st Regiment of Colorado Cavalry. (LK paragraph word count, 106; NPS paragraph word count, 101)

Sand Creek Massacre (1864-1865)

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The second NPS image in the brochure is the done-to-death line art of Black Kettle by John Metcalf (without giving the artist credit). I think it is a poor choice as dramatic events confronted Wynkoop at this time, including facing the Cheyenne and Arapaho battle line on September 10, 1864 (this image represents Wynkoop seeing the battle line). He not only kept his cool but he maneuvered through potential death without violence that day. I created this art specifically for Wild West (it appeared in the August 2014 issue of the magazine) and I will use it in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. I offered this art free of charge to the National Park Service to use in the Wynkoop brochure for the Fort Larned and Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Sites with the stipulation that it uses this credit: (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

Wynkoop assumed command of Fort Lyon on the Santa Fe Trail in early May 1864. On September 3 he saw two letters from Cheyenne Chief Black Kettle, who wanted to end the war that raged all summer. Wynkoop led 127 officers and men toward a large Cheyenne-Arapaho encampment on the Smoky Hill in Kansas to discuss peace. On the morning of September 10 Wynkoop faced a massive Indian battle line. He thought he and his command would die, but instead Black Kettle prevented violence, and he met Cheyenne and Arapaho tribal leaders in council. Although threatened with violence by Dog Man Chief Bull Bear Wynkoop remained calm (Dog Soldiers is a white-man term). Wynkoop received four white children and seven chiefs accompanied him to Camp Weld, below Denver, to discuss peace with second Territorial Governor John Evans. During the council Wynkoop and the chiefs thought that war had ended pending the decision of the U.S. government.
(LK paragraph word count, 156; NPS paragraph word count, 155)

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The NPS’s third image is on page 2 in the Indian Agent section. It is an “Image of a typical Cheyenne village in the 1860s.” I might as well say this here: This is a brochure on Wynkoop. It has four images and only one is of Wynkoop, and it was taken long before Wynkoop met or worked with Cheyennes and Arapahos. Hello???? I don’t think I need to say anything else about the poor choice of images. This image appeared on page 124 of Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011). As it has many of the leading participants in the events that led up to Sand Creek, the attack, and the aftermath it is a major image and belongs in Wynkoop’s brochure. Partial caption from the Wynkoop book: “Kneeling in the foreground are Maj. Edward Wynkoop (left) and Capt. Silas Soule. Sitting (from left) are White Antelope (Southern Cheyenne), Bull Bear (Dog Soldier), Black Kettle (Southern Cheyenne), Neva (Arapaho), and No-ta-nee (Arapaho). Standing (from left) are unidentified, Trader Dexter Colley, Trader/Interpreter John Smith, Heap of Buffalo (Arapaho), Bosse (Arapaho), Secretary of Colorado Territory Samuel Elbert, unidentified soldier. Note that Neva has sometimes been identified as One-Eye (Southern Cheyenne), Heap of Buffalo has sometimes been identified as White Wolf (Kiowa), and that Bull Bear has sometimes been identified as the fourth sitting from the left, which is incorrect as a close examination of the many images of him in later life conclusively prove.” Courtesy: History Colorado (Scan #10025492)

On November 5, 1864, Maj. Scott Anthony relieved Wynkoop of command at Fort Lyon for acting without authority and feeding warring Indians. Wynkoop set up meetings and introduced Anthony to Black Kettle and Arapaho Chief Left Hand. Anthony demanded that they move away from the fort but promised military protection. By November 17 Black Kettle’s Cheyenne village camped on a bend of the Big Sandy. A small band of Left Hand’s people also camped there. Expecting to be court-martialed Wynkoop set out for Kansas on November 26.
(LK paragraph word count, 87; NPS paragraph word count, 88)

On the morning of November 29, 1864, Chivington and approximately 675 soldiers of mostly the 1st and 3rd Colorado Volunteer Cavalries attacked the Cheyenne and Arapaho village on Big Sandy Creek. The soldiers showed no mercy and killed women, children, and old people. Many horribly. Almost all the bodies were scalped and mutilated. Somewhere between 160 and 200 Cheyennes and Arapahos died in what has become known as the Sand Creek Massacre.
(LK paragraph word count, 72; NPS paragraph word count, 80)

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This is a detail of a woodcut that shows the chiefs that traveled to Denver and Camp Weld with Wynkoop in September 1864. It was created in the 19th century and is part of my collection. I colorized this image and offered it to the NPS as an alternate to the Camp Weld photo (the Camp Weld photo belongs in the Wynkoop brochure much more than the 1861 Wynkoop portrait). This image shows Bull Bear (left) and Black Kettle, both of whom played large roles in Wynkoop’s relationship with the Cheyennes. (Colorization © Louis Kraft 2013)

When Wynkoop learned of the attack his shock gave way to rage. He demanded an interview with Maj. Gen. Samuel Curtis, who commanded the Department of Kansas. Curtis listened to Wynkoop, who damned Chivington for the murder innocent people. Exonerated for his actions, in late December Wynkoop received orders to resume command of Fort Lyon and report upon the attack. He interviewed participants and leaned that “three-fourths of [the dead] were women and children, among whom many were infants.” Wynkoop’s report along with other reports of the massacre resulted in two Congressional investigations and launched a U.S. Army Commission investigation. Chivington’s attack was officially condemned, but as he had previously resigned his military commission he was never court-martialed.
(LK paragraph word count, 118; NPS paragraph word count, 118)

The Sand Creek Massacre resulted in an Indian war of revenge that began in January 1865. Hoping to end the war peace commissioners met with tribal leaders on the Little Arkansas River in Kansas in fall 1865. Wynkoop commanded the military escort. Instead an arrow in the back as Wynkoop expected, Cheyenne and Arapaho leaders asked he be named their agent.
(LK paragraph word count, 61; NPS paragraph word count, 58)

Indian Agent (1866-1868)

While on detached duty from the military in 1866 Wynkoop met Cheyenne and Dog Men leaders in council at Bluff Creek, Kansas (February 28-March 1) to get them to agree to railroad tracks crossing prime buffalo hunting grounds. Although threatened if Cheyennes touched the changed-1865 treaty paper Wynkoop, with Black Kettle and Bull Bear’s help, obtained needed signatures. In June Wynkoop, who now considered Indians human beings, resigned his military commission and applied to become an Indian agent. As a special agent Wynkoop fed hungry Cheyennes before President Andrew Johnson appointed him U.S. Indian agent in September 1866.
(LK paragraph word count, 97; NPS paragraph word count, 100)

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The fourth and final NPS image is a long-distance image of Fort Larned, Ks. Who cares! The Fort Larned NHS brochure features a magnificent color artistic rendering of the fort. What value does a long shot of the fort provide to the Wynkoop brochure? Nothing, absolutely nothing. This image shows U.S. Indian agent Ned Wynkoop (left) with interpreter Dick Curtis, one of the interpreters accompanying Maj. Gen. Winfield S. Hancock’s massive army as it approached the Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork (about 35 miles due west of Fort Larned, Ks., in mid-April 1867). Wynkoop, with mixed-blood Cheyenne Edmund Guerrier, whom Wynkoop often used as an interpreter, rode between the lines and prevented violence between perhaps 400 Tsistsistas, Dog Men, and Lakotas and about 1400 soldiers under the command of Hancock. Later, after Hancock’s army camped close to the Indian village, the Indians deserted it in fear that they were about to be butchered. Wynkoop fought with Hancock for days to protect the deserted village as these people had done nothing wrong, other than fleeing in fear that they would be sexually murdered and desecrated as the Cheyennes and Arapahos had been at Sand Creek. Theodore R. Davis artwork (author’s collection)

Wynkoop established his agency near traditional Cheyenne hunting lands at Fort Larned in southwestern Kansas. The fort’s isolated location afforded an opportunity to protect his wards that desired peace. In spring 1867 Maj. Gen. Winfield Hancock, with 1400 soldiers, threatened perhaps 12 leaders of the “Dog band,” as Wynkoop called the Dog Men, during a night meeting at Fort Larned on April 12. After the council Dog Man Chief Tall Bull told Wynkoop he feared another Sand Creek. Late that night Wynkoop tried but couldn’t stop Hancock from marching toward a Cheyenne-Dog Man-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork on the next day. When an Indian battle line confronted Hancock’s army Wynkoop rode between the lines and prevented violence. Soon after Hancock’s arrival at the village the Indians fled in fear of their lives. Wynkoop fought to save the Indians’ lodges and property, but Hancock refused to listen to him, destroyed the village, and as Wynkoop predicted started what has been called “Hancock’s War.”
(LK paragraph word count, 162; NPS paragraph word count, 163)

In August 1868 a Cheyenne-led war party killed settlers in central Kansas and started another war. Wynkoop could not stop it and resigned his commission in protest. After his friend Black Kettle (whom he called “Make-tava-tah”) died in a dawn attack on November 27, Wynkoop lashed out at U.S. government policy for what he considered wanton murder of innocent people in New York City on December 23.1
(LK paragraph word count, 67; NPS paragraph word count, 61)

1 See Kraft, Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011), for variations of Black Kettle’s name including what Wynkoop called him, 111.

Later Life (1869-1891)

In 1869 Wynkoop applied to become Superintendent of Indian Affairs, but because he spoke out against government policy and dared to suggest that Indians become U.S. citizens his application was denied. Wynkoop lived another 22 years and more than once attempted to again work with Indians but the U.S. government refused each request. During these years Wynkoop performed numerous jobs as he provided for his family. He died in Santa Fe, New Mexico Territory, on September 11, 1891. George Bent, who as a Cheyenne mixed-blood, lived through the violent 1860s and beyond, called Wynkoop “the best friend [the] Cheyennes and Arapahos ever had.”
(LK paragraph word count, 103; NPS paragraph word count, 103)

LK note: Wynkoop suggested making Indians U.S. citizens at the Cooper Union in New York City on December 23, 1868. See “Indian Affairs,” New York Times (December 24, 1868), 1. When Johnny Boggs reviewed Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek, he wrote (in reference to Indians becoming citizens), “No wonder Wynkoop wore a gun.”

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Obviously when lk next appears at a national historic site
he will be escorted off the premises by an armed guard.
Hell, that’s not so bad for he’ll soon have another life
experience that will be a first. The future is out there
and I can’t wait to walk into it.

Upcoming blogs

  • People who don’t do research but dish out opinion as if they know everything
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers
  • The song remembers when

— Louis Kraft

Pailin, LK, and an upcoming date with our future

 Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Those of you that have read some of the blogs, know that I interlace a lot of personal information into the blogs. The reason is twofold: 1) To add life and spice to the blogs, and 2) To document information for a memoir that I’m  writing.

What follows is 100 percent personal. It is from the heart, and it is in preparation for perhaps the most important meeting of my entire life.

**********

I have introduced and discussed Pailin in previous blogs. If you’ve read these blogs you know how we met and how that chance meeting altered both of our lives.

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Pailin in the front yard of Tujunga House, shortly after she moved in (17nov13). Last year I published a blog called, “Who says they don’t raise cowgirls in Thailand and other stories of Sand Creek,” and I featured this image. As soon as I took this photo of her it became one of my all-time favorites, and it is on my desk. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Our date with U.S. Immigration is a day away, on August 11. It is a one-shot deal, and will play a major role in our future. We succeed or we fail in our quest to obtain Pailin’s Green Card. If we fail, from what I understand we’ll have an opportunity to appeal our case. To date, I know no one that has won through appeals. As we have two wonderful friends who must overcome this hurdle (and we pray for their success every day), we know what the odds become if we stumble on August 11. This date was supposed to have been in mid-September at the earliest, and everything I did was geared toward that time. About a week after I completed my first round of research at the Braun Research Library, Autry National Center (Los Angeles, Ca.), the unanticipated change of date arrived. I have been under the gun ever since, and let me tell you I am dragging and feeling it now big time. I can’t remember the last time I felt stress but at the moment it is gobbling me up on a daily basis.

That said, and with the hope that this blog doesn’t perturb Immigration, I am giving you a quick introduction to this special lady that I met on June 15, 2013, and who has become my best friend, my love, and my wife.

“No way, never”

In June 2013 I set up a dinner party with four friends (Robert and Annette Florczak, and Greg and Nam Maradei). Robert is writing what is going to be an exceptional book about Errol Flynn and Greg is a Flynn fan. I met both of them and their very pretty wives earlier in this century during Flynn events that brought us together.

florczak&maradei_15jun2013Robert and Annette have become two of my best friends in LA. Greg is a delight to know; bright, funny, and always focused and interested in Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, and the Indian wars. Nam is another story. She is absolutely gorgeous, funny, and a person I really enjoy knowing. At the moment I think I’m on the wrong side of her good side. I could explain the reasons, but I’m not going to.

As the dinner neared Nam approached me in regards to her bringing a coworker to the dinner. It was going to be for five people as I had not had a girlfriend since mid-2011. I said, “No thanks; I’m not interested.” I think she was angry and I asked Greg about this. “No,” he said, “Nam doesn’t get angry.” I gave in and told her to invite her friend. Nam told me that she’d ask her. As it turned out, her friend also demurred. Like with me, Nam pushed until the lady agreed to join the dinner party.

After she had a yes, Nam contacted me and told me that the additional guest asked what she could bring. I said: “The salmon, the potatoes, the salad, the bread, and the wine.” BTW, that was what I served. “Very funny,” Nam said. “What can she bring?” “Just herself,” I replied.

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Nam Maradei and Pailin in the backyard of Tujunga House on 15jun13. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

On the 15th I posted a sign on the front door. “Clothing is optional in this house.” It was a joke, but you’ve got to know I love pulling people’s legs. Robert (who had visited previously) and Annette arrived first. While Robert and I showed Annette the house Greg and company arrived. I answered the door. Greg was on the steps, Nam on the walkway, and the lady behind her. The lady held a vase of orchids. My eyes zeroed in on her. My opinion then and now was and is: “Wow!”

The exploration of the house continued. At one point the lady spoke to Nam in Thai (Nam is Thai and so is the lady). “Whoa-whoa, wait! What did you say?” The question was ignored. I finally asked what the lady preferred to be called as I had heard three names. She said, “Nuch.” “Nuch it is,” I said. (Note that after we got to know each other and we began to deal with documentation that “Pailin,” as it is her real name, came into use; and as I like “Pailin” better, it became what I call her.) We returned to the living room and talked and joked and took some pictures (at the time I had an antique Cannon film camera). Everyone wanted to see the backyard and I led the exodus outside. Although I am changing the front into a desert landscape in the backyard is still basically a garden. The entire yard is enclosed by bushes and trees which give complete privacy. … More pictures and talk and I had to return to the kitchen to prepare the food. … The salmon and potatoes were cooking but I had to chop the salad and make the dressing.

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This is the only photo I have of Pailin and myself that was taken (off her phone) on 15jun13. We are with our good friends Annette & Robert Florczak. The orchids that Pailin brought are in the foreground. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

After dinner Greg wanted Pailin to kiss me. This was something that she didn’t want to do (and I now know absolutely why) and she refused—which I totally agreed with. Why should two people who don’t know each other kiss? Pailin was quiet and yet firm in her refusal and this was something that I really liked. I also said “no” but to no avail and Robert spoke up, backing Pailin’s refusal. Eventually Greg realized that no one was going to kiss. For me, this was the turning point in a meeting that I didn’t want to happen. I saw a pretty woman who had a limited knowledge of the English language and yet she had a quiet control over her life. I liked what I saw and decided that I wanted to see her again. Luckily Nam pushed and Pailin and I shared phone numbers and Facebook addresses.

Greg then insisted that I give a demonstration with the sword. Not anticipated and not wanted but I agreed. Later that evening I removed my socks (Tujunga House is shoeless), gave a demonstration, and shocked both Annette and Pailin, who were on the couch. Both shrank back in fear. Not my intention.

It was time for everyone to leave. Pailin came with Nam and Greg, and as the driveway is sometimes rough to back out onto the street I offered to signal when all was clear. Numerous attempts to get Greg out of the driveway failed. Finally Pailin stepped from the car. “Nam and Greg asked if I like you, and they said that if I do that I should hug you goodbye.” We hugged.

I had posted the following words on Facebook on June 17, 2013:

“Nervously I said ‘yes,’ [to Nam’s request] but whatever the future brings it was a good ‘yes,’ for I had a terrific day/evening w/five people—five friends. I’ve done a fair amount of talking about Indian wars friends on the blog, but the next one will deal with the key friends in my L.A. life … “

The beginning

A day or so after the dinner party I contacted Pailin about seeing her again. She said, “I don’t know. I’ll get back to you.” She did, a day or so later, and her answer was positive. We decided upon Thursday.

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On Thursday we drove to Santa Monica to explore the cliffs above the beach. The staircase down to the beach, the beach, the pier boardwalk, and eventually the Santa Monica open mall, which led us to a Thai restaurant. We got to know each other. We joked, we took pictures, we had fun as we explored. I found a human being who was frail and yet an adventurer, I found a lady who was shy and yet open, and most important I found a person I wanted to know.

I had found a small shy person, but one who was excited discovering the world. In a previous blog I had compared her to the English seaman Sir Francis Drake and the American frontiersman Kit Carson. These comparisons are massive compliments.

nuch&lk_2shotSittingSMpierCROP_20jun13_wsWe had a language barrier that we dealt with and we enjoyed each others company. Pailin was special and I wanted to see her again and again. And over the coming weeks we would see each other. … The Autry National Center and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and we began dancing the salsa to live bands at the Autry on Thursday nights.

We talked about our pasts and learned some of the tragedies and sadness we had survived. Learning of Pailin’s father’s, son’s, and mother’s passing within three years and of her desire to leave Thailand as she found it impossible to live in her homeland and deal with the horrific loss of her loved ones that lived with her on a daily basis.

Early on in our relationship she told me that many years had passed since she last loved someone and didn’t know if she could again. At the Autry she asked me to give her time, that she needed time.

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By then I knew that I knew someone special, and I did.

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Pailin in the Tujunga House dinning room (2sept13). We have spent a lot of good times in this room; eating, joking, talking serious, working on English and Thai words. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

There was absolutely no pushing. When we could we saw each other. We got to know, really know each other, and we became comfortable in each other’s presence. We communicated mostly with Skype as we could see each other and share our environments as we talked. We joked, and let me tell you this is one thing I’m good at—pulling people’s legs and playing games. Pailin gives as good as she receives, and she loves playing around.

The dancing at the Autry ended after only six weeks and summer drifted toward fall.

A tragic time

Pailin lived through a stretch of roughly three years at the beginning of this century that were devastating. I don’t know how she survived, much less created a positive life for herself.

watThai_18sept13_ps&lk_yoDeath_in2002_ws

Pailin praying for her son at Wat Thai on 18sept2013. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Her father died in 2000, her son in 2002, and her mother, who took care of her after her son’s passing, in 2003. After that her sister, who was a colonel in the Thai Army took care of her. At the time Pailin had a successful business. She had three restaurants in Lampang Province, Thailand (the Central Hospital, the military hospital, and the military golf course). Her days began at six in the morning when shopped for that day’s food and had it delivered. Her day ended at midnight. But the pain was overwhelming, and she decided that she needed to leave Thailand and find a new life.

Every year on the anniversary of her son’s death, Pailin visits Wat Thai, the Thai Temple of Los Angeles in North Hollywood, Ca., to pray for her son.

Our first adventure

I had an upcoming talk on Lt. Charles Gatewood and Geronimo at an Order of the Indian Wars (OIW) event in Tucson, Az., in late September. At this time we had barely pecked each other on the lips. I decided to ask her if she’d like to go, and when I did, I made it clear that she would be safe in my presence. To my surprise she said, “Yes.”

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This is my lady on the morning of September 26. She is ironing my pants (something I’ve done since my mother did it for me), and although I tried to stop her, she insisted. More importantly, you are seeing her as I see her—gorgeous w/o makeup and totally alive. She was probably saying, “Don’t take the picture.” For me this image is worth a 1000 words. (photo © Palin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

But Pailin wanted more than a trip to hear my talk—she wanted to explore. She indeed has Kit Carson and Francis Drake blood flowing through her veins.

We left LA in the wee hours of September 25, 2013, and reached Tucson by mid-afternoon. Mike Koury, who heads the OIW, kindly paid for an additional night for us at the hotel. That day we basically kept to ourselves before going out for an early dinner.


My visits to Tucson date all the way back to the early 1970s, and beginning in 1995 and continuing for 10 years for two Gatewood/Apache books. In 2012 Glen Williams and I drove to Tucson to see the disappointing Geronimo exhibit at the Arizona Historical Society and to explore southern Arizona.


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I didn’t have any photos of the talk and Mike Koury (OIW) kindly supplied me with two the other day. I gave the talk at the Radisson Suites Tucson on 26sept2014. The next day Mike and his crew of Apache experts led a three-day tour that tracked Geronimo and the Apaches through the American Southwest.

The next day I spoke about Gatewood finding Geronimo, Naiche, and the remaining Chiricahua Apaches in the Teres Mountains in Sonora, Mexico, talking them into returning to the United States, making sure that they reached Skeleton Canyon (35 miles north of the international border) safely where they officially surrendered to end the last Apache war. The talk is on You Tube: Gatewood’s Assignment: Geronimo.

Guidon Books, Old Scottsdale, Az.

After the talks the OIW members met for hamburgers, hotdogs, and potato salad, which is food we don’t eat. We made an appearance at the north side of the swimming pool and talked with friends before we departed to eat at a highly recommended Thai restaurant. The next morning we were up early and on the road. We had miles to go with a stopover in Old Scottsdale to see Shelly Dudley at the new location of Guidon Books (she and hubby Gordon took over after her father’s death). Good times for me seeing an old friend in a great new location. The signing of books and exploring the huge new space. Pailin was like a kid in a candy store.

Montezuma Castle National Monument

Miles to go and the Vette cruised northward. An impromptu short detour for Pailin to see her first American Indian ruins.

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The Montezuma Castle National Monument is a perfect example of long-gone civilization that is still available to view in a protected valley with cliff dwellings (unfortunately visitors can’t explore the ruins that are high above on stark cliffs). The Sinagua people, which were pre-Columbian people whose culture was closely related to the Hohokam and other people indigenous to the American Southwest. It is a wonderful, quiet, and pristine place to visit. Peaceful, beautiful, … I could live here.

Williams, Az., the gateway to the Grand Canyon

I had hoped for Pailin to meet two of my great friends, novelist Gary McCarthy and his wonderful wife Jane. It wasn’t to be.

psWilliamsCollageBorder_27sept13_wsThe temperature dropped by the minute, but still I was able to lead Pailin on a cool walking tour of Williams. She loved it. We ate at a Mexican restaurant that I like very much. Thai people cherish their spicy food, but this salsa verde was way too hot for her taste. BTW, I don’t buy salsa verde anymore, for the Thai version of it is to die for. She makes it for me whenever needed. If you haven’t experienced what I call “Thai salsa verde,” you are missing one of the great taste pleasures in our world. I often tease her that I’ll dip watermelon in it. “No-no-no!! NO!” she proclaims. I do love teasing.

The Grand Canyon … for a morning plus

You need to know that Pailin and I are two people from different cultures, that we have experienced bad times, and that although we are thrilled to know each other that we viewed our relationship during this trip closely. Mainly, who is this guy and is he for me, and who is this lady and is she for me. By this late date you can guess the answer.

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South Rim of the Grand Canyon, Az. The fawns allowed Pailin to get close to them, but when I approached to take a photo that showed how close she had gotten to them I became one human too many and they took off. (28sept13)

Talk about being on the road early and making the most of our time, we had plenty of time to experience the south rim of this American treasure. And boy has it changed since I last visited in the early 1980s. Pailin had visited in 2012 (I think), and she knew a lot more about it than I did. I followed her lead and we maneuvered easily and quickly to what she thought we should see.

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My lady and our mode of travel. We are about to leave the Grand Canyon on 28sept2013 and head for Las Vegas, Nv. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft and Louis Kraft 2013)

The time was too short, way too short, and we had to return to the Vette and cruise at a fast pace for we had miles to cover in a shorter time than we had. Pailin loves to travel, and the miles passed easily as we chatted and worked on the English language, and to a lesser degree the Thai language. Not because I’m lazy, but because she has a great desire to master the English language.

Our destination was the Excalibur Hotel in Las Vegas, Nv. Pailin and I don’t gamble. So what was our rush?

The reason was a joke. Even though we had a confirmed non-smoking reservation and had paid in advance, Excalibur made it clear that when check-in for all rooms became available on a first-come first-serve basis. On the phone I had made it clear to the hotel staff that we would not sleep in a smoke-polluted room. We had chosen Excalibur as it was a location that Maverick Airlines picked up travelers, and they would pick us up the next day. This was of major importance for what Pailin wanted to do on the trip. And believe me, I bought into this 100 percent. We did not have a problem when we checked in even though we were two hours late. As Excalibur had no decent restaurants, we ate Thai food at another hotel and then went to bed early.

September 29, 2013

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One of my favorite images of Pailin, the explorer ready to venture into the unknown. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft, 2013)

With Maverick Airlines scheduled to pick us up early at the hotel we got up before first light and prepared for what would soon happen. Both of us were excited. We had been forewarned to dress for cool weather and we did.

On this morning I realized that I knew a lady who had the same view to walking into the unknown as I. We were about to do something that neither of us had done before, and Pailin was ready to step into whatever was about to happen. Wow! I had never seen this before. The oversized minivan picked us up and we drove to Henderson, Nv., and the helicopter that would deliver us to the Hualapai Indian Reservation on the west side of the Grand Canyon.


I had worked on a film in 1979 called Raise the Titanic, and doubled Richard Jordan. I spent 11 days at sea on a U.S. nuclear helicopter carrier (will have to dig to find the vessel’s name, USS something) off the coast of San Diego (we went far enough to sea that the California coast wasn’t visible). I’m sorry to say that this is a forgettable film, but I had a great three months of work. The Pacific Ocean was rough, the wind harsh, and the vessel bounced like a duck toy in a bathtub. The director had a shot wherein a helicopter would land on the ship, I would climb into it, it would take off, and then land on the vessel a second time. I presented my price and the director rejected it; I would work for my usual cost. “No way,” I said. “You pay what I want or I’m not getting on that damn thing.” I felt certain that tragedy loomed. “You’ll work for your usual fee.” I shook my head. “No. Put Jordan on that frigging thing.” Makeup applied a fake beard on a sailor to match Jordan’s and my beards and he worked for free. I was thrilled when the helicopter took off and then landed safely on the vessel. That said, I had made the correct decision.


Our destination: Hualapai Indian land on the west side of the Grand Canyon.

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At the Henderson airport we boarded the Maverick helicopter. Let me tell you that cruising at 1800 feet is cool. Let me repeat that—COOL! Actually I would have liked to have flown closer to the ground but was told that this would be dangerous.

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We landed on the Hualapai Rez and began to explore. Pailin had had an introduction to the Indian wars, she had visited Indian ruins, and now she walked on American Indian ground. She had entered my world, and although she hadn’t realized it when she told me what she wanted to do it had come to pass.

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Pailin and lk enjoying the Skywalk. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Like I said above, the spirit of frontiersman Kit Carson and pirate Francis Drake flows through her. She is an adventurer, an explorer, and she was in her element. LK couldn’t have been a happier guy.

The time was short—too short, but we made the most of it. We stepped onto the famed “Skywalk.” and we explored the upper regions of the cliffs on the Hualapai Indian Reservation.

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Hours passed, and it was time to return to Las Vegas and reality. Another helicopter ride and that would be cool. But a sadness hung over us for we both knew that our trip would soon end, for the next day, 30sept13, we would drive back to Los Angeles.

We had six days together. We had cruised along open roads and we had explored. We came to know each other—really know each other (without being intimate). We felt comfortable together. What already existed but to date was unsaid, we knew. More important, we knew that we wanted to spend more time together. We had our lives in front of us.

LK’s past and a peek into who I am

To keep this short I had been married once, and if you remember the Jerry Reed country song called “She Got the Gold Mine (I Got the Shaft),” you get the picture. It ended in divorce in 1992. A jealousy/hated/conspiracy theory (for almost everything) had unleashed a desire to destroy any happiness I might find in life. … This would play a major impact on the next 22 years of my life, and it hasn’t ended.

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I discovered 19 black & white negatives in 2013 that were dumped at Tujunga House in 2010 as part of two truck loads of boxes that supposedly belonged to my dead sister. Actually much of it belonged to my father and mother, and my sister had taken a goldmine of documents and images that I didn’t know existed. The negatives had blotches all over them. They were faded and totally unfocused. From the time of their creation or were they always this way? I’ll never know. As negatives for creating prints they were useless. A disaster since there were images of my mother, father, his best friend & partner, my brother, me, and my best friend at this time—roughly from the 1971-1973 time period. At the time I was writing a blog titled “A gunslinger in a bathroom” and needed something. This image suits me and my dark view of racism. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

At the time I wrote for a company in the South Bay (SoCal) and in the 1990s I saw a woman walking down the street reading a book. Whoa-baby, she reads! This was my kinda lady.

In the fall a little over a decade later I dropped off a sport coat for cleaning. On that day a big customer of the shop, Johnny Depp’s then leading bodyguard, was present. We chatted. An hour passed in conversation (and the owner joined in when there were no customers). Two days passed and I picked up the coat. As I was leaving she said, “I will see you again, won’t I?”

Two Asian ladies, and two long relationships. Not planned; they just happened. There were other relationships for shorter lengths of time with ladies of other race.

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This image is perhaps the real lk. No fast car, no wide-brimmed hat, no guns, and no swords. Just lk and his iMac. Fully 70 percent of my waking hours are intense as I work on my computer(s). Oh, there are breaks wherein I walk around the house (or the yard) and talk to myself. Good conversations, even when I’m madder than hell and in a gunslinger state of mind. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

I bring this up for what I consider a major reason. My wife was white, and often other women (white and other races) have accused me of being racist, and only targeting Asian women. Some of these women are good friends, other women have been friends who may have been jealous and wanted more from me than I could give. This list includes my daughter (but her words are coming from her mother’s mouth). This accusation is incorrect, for just quirks of fate brought me together with the two Asian women listed above, as well as the other women. I have never been a wolf on the hunt. After the last long-time relationship ended, I didn’t ask anyone out for two years (and that was Pailin). My days have been long (doubly so when I worked for a company and met freelance deadlines, and even more so now as working for companies is long gone in my rearview mirror).

I’m not a recluse and I’m not anti-social. Actually I’m just the opposite, for I get along with people.

Enter Pailin in a way I never dreamed possible

Our trip made me begin to think about something I had never considered doing before in my life. Ever.

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An image of Pailin late at night on 16aug13 in her apartment. We were using Skype, and as you can see she is totally relaxed. I’m the little blip on the upper right of the screen. I only use Macs after spending decades using UNIX, PCs, and being introduced to Macs twice (the second time on my request). At the end of my tenure with Sun Microsystems I had a PC laptop, a UNIX box, a Mac laptop, and viewed everything on an oversized monitor, … ‘course when the network went belly up I would be dead in the water). You do not want to know my opinion of PCs; it is unprintable. (Image © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Pailin and I communicated using Facebook chat (which allowed her to translate words before replying) and with Skype late at night (which allowed us to see each other as we talked), She lived in Los Angeles, an easy drive down the 170 and 101 freeways, but she wasn’t happy with the area, and neither was I. Her apartment was close to Beverly Drive and three nights a week music and loud talk blasted from a bar until two in the morning. Drunks were in evidence for at least an hour after the bar closed. …

In early October while we were sitting in my dinning room, hanging out, and talking about anything, nothing, the English language, Thai words, actually I don’t remember, I asked her if she’d like to move in with me. A first, for me as I had never-ever considered doing this in the past. Never. She said yes, and planned on completing the move on November 1. This started me on a major project (which still hasn’t been completed due to writing projects) of tearing the house apart. It was over-crowded for one person, and now I needed to make room for two.

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Pailin began the move on 18oct13, and this collage represents her initial delivery and work before going to her shop that morning. The other images represent a view from the computer/library to the living room (#1), from the library to the computer/library (#2), and another view of the living room (#3). The images of Pailin are in the master bedroom, and believe me she has done a great job of re-imaging this room. (photos © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft (2013)

Stuff had to go, and for the next two months both the black trashcan (trash) and the blue trashcan (recyclables) were full to the brim. I still have a spare bedroom (my research room that guests or my daughter stay in) full with stacks of books that I hope to sell (some have been given to people with interest in the Indian wars that have helped me or are long-distance friends or in one case my great friend Glen Williams).

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Pailin in the front yard of Tujunga House on October 24, 2013. (© Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Mañana … or mañana or whenever I have time (and the spine is in agreement). I have been turning the front yard (that is hidden from prying eyes on all sides by shrubs) into a desert. A lot has been done, but much more still needs to be completed, including adding more stepping stones and small colored stones. Again, time is the culprit.

On October 18th Pailin began moving her belongings into Tujunga House. It was a fun time, an exciting time as we began to work at merging our lives. I told her to feel free to make Tujunga House her home, and she did. Although Pailin planned the move for November 1, she moved in on October 27.

A merging of cultures

My mother and father did not harbor any racial prejudice, and they greatly impacted my life. In 1970 I joined Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA). I had hoped to work with American Indians, but by the time the first week of training concluded in Austin, Texas, I had become a celebrity. At that time Austin rolled up the sidewalks at 10:00 PM. We lived in a skyscraper dormitory on the Univeristy of Texas campus. Everyone bought booze and brought it back to our living quarters (ladies on one floor and the men on the floor above them). We hung out in the bedrooms (two split by one bathroom). One night around two in the morning about 20 of us were still up and drinking (recruits and representatives that would eventually choose us). I said something to a white couple that I liked. I don’t remember what, but it was probably out of line. Suddenly I had a knife at my throat while I was held from behind. It was one of the Chicano representatives, and he didn’t like what I said. Let me tell you that my heart was pumping. Somehow I kept my cool and told him that if he killed me his cause would be dead and he’d be in prison as there were just too many witnesses. After about a minute he released me and the incident ended.

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Left to right: Louis Kraft, Sr. (on a Suzuki), Lee Kraft (on a Kawasaki), and lk (on a Triumph) in 1970 just before I began my tour of duty with VISTA. Until the last 10 days of my mother’s life my father and I had been at war. Those 10 days changed everything (she died in 1980 and he in 1999). My brother and I were close, very close, and the last 10 years of his life we played softball together on winning teams (he died in 1990 at age 33, and I have not yet gotten over his death). There are a lot of stories to tell here. Will I? I hope so. (photo © Louis Kraft 1970)

At six when I appeared for breakfast I was surrounded by people that wanted to know the details. What details? I was scared stiff and was thrilled to see the sun rise. At the end of the week we received a lot of shots and the Indian, African American, and Chicano representatives began to choose their teams (just like you do for a sandlot football game). I went early, but I didn’t get to work with Indians. I would work with African Americans in east Oklahoma City. Cool stuff; perhaps I’ll do a blog about this in the future. Unfortunately there are no photos.

After my mother died in 1980 my father opened his door to young people that needed a place to stay (and it didn’t matter what their race or religion was), and this continued until his death.

For years I had enjoyed being around people of different races and colors, but it was in 1990 when I landed the first of a handful of technical software writing positions that the doors began to open to people from around the world. It was a slow trickle at first but by 1998 the writing was on the wall, and by 2000 when I left the world of space, caucasians were close to becoming minorities in the software world. Within a handful of more years this had become fact. I couldn’t have been in a better place for I was totally at home working in a melting pot of people from around the world.

Racism was unacceptable when I was young, … and it is unacceptable today.

Pailin, like myself, is totally at ease with people of other races. We were meant to meet; it just took time before that day happened. She is good with my culture and I with hers. Our world would soon become a melting pot of Thai and American culture.

A new life for us

Pailin and I were already comfortable together and we didn’t experience any uncomfortable moments while making the transition to living together. Work on attempting to make Tujunga House workable for us would continue for months, and we still have a long ways to go before the house and yard are as we want them. The problem has been merging this with my writing workload and my spine.

Pailin is my lady, my love, and as my great friend. Vee, my friend from Massachusetts, says that Pailin is my muse. Vee is right, for she is. I cherish each and every minute I have with her.

Our main meal of the day is breakfast, and it is a major part of our day. Pailin prepares almost all the meals. I’m a good cook, but Pailin is better. She loves to cook and the kitchen is hers. Once in a while I cook, and this usually is along the lines of salmon or trout or skinless chicken with vegetables and salad. Pailin has become a wiz cooking salmon her way (which is new to her). Her Thai meals, which are very healthy are to die for (I mean, “to die for”) for they are “alloy mark” (delicious). Her soups are out of this world, all are good, but I probably have a top 10, and whenever she repeats one of them I point out that it is one of my favorites and I am capable of eating two or three or four days in a row. Her fried rice, which isn’t “fried” rice like when you eat out. Not even close. Veggies and sometimes ground turkey (which I introduced her to) or fish or shrimp. Alloy mark! We buy tilapia often. She cooks it and the following day she strips the flesh from the bones and mixes it with herbs, green onions, lime juice, and other goodies including chile (chile peppers aren’t just from the Southwest), and there is a bite. It is served cold with lettuce, carrots, cucumbers, and rice (sticky or regular or both). This became an instant favorite. There are noodle dishes, and rice dishes, and she can do wonders sautéing chicken or fish or tofu (we eat a lot of tofu, something I’ve been eating for decades) with a variety of veggies and served with rice. This is just a handful of the many meals she serves (and I’m shortchanging her on what she can do with fruit, including cooked bananas; especially the Mexican style bananas, which can be purchased at Thai grocery stores but for more money).

Thanksgiving 2013

thanksgiving2013_collageThanksgiving is one of my favorite days. I have a lot to be thankful for and I love the traditional dinner that I grew up with—mainly turkey, dressing, and the various vegetable side dishes. I’ve been cooking turkeys by myself for well over two decades (twice a year), and over this time I have made the recipe for cooking the bird and dressing my own. Sometime in the 1990s I decided to skin the turkey. By then I had also had a great Southwestern influence in what I cooked. Traditionally, per my mother’s cooking, dressing included celery, mushrooms, and onions. In 1992, my first year flying solo, I added Anaheim chilies to the mix (and it has been a constant for over 20 years). Turkey and dressing is one my favorite meals (and it can go with anything.

Before leaving Thailand Pailin had a huge restaurant business, which included a military hospital, a military golf course, and the Central Hospital. She shopped for and ordered the required food at six in the morning and then oversaw what was prepared each day (her days ended at midnight). Pailin is a marvelous cook; she enjoys cooking and it is one of her pleasures in life. I can’t go into detail with her cooking here, but she could easily open a restaurant that would serve superior-tasting dishes. My problem is that she can cook so many great meals and so many different ways that she seldom repeats a meal. My problem is that when I really like a meal I want to eat again and again (that is, not once and let’s move on). Without going into detail her soups and main dishes are out of this world.

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Our Thanksgiving dinner included turkey, dressing, rice, spicy coconut tofu soup, and water with lime juice.

Pailin and I spent the day together—just us. I cooked turkey and dressing and she made coconut and tofu soup and rice. We mixed and matched, and it worked just fine.

Some health problems hit me at this time and they would last for almost eight months. It would turn me into almost a vampire, a creature of the night, as I had to avoid the sun at all costs. The virus is not gone, but we have it under control (fingers are crossed) and I’m no longer using multiple antibiotics. That said, I still avoid the sun as much as possible.

An operation happened (not mine or Pailin’s) and I needed money to pay for it. I agreed to a contract for pay to edit, fix, and rewrite a novel. This evolved into a partnership. It was needed money, but the book when I finally complete it will be something that I’ll be proud of. My partner is a good man, a physician (and if you’ve seen some of the blogs you know him as Robert Goodman, MD), and if it wasn’t for him making a decision of what I needed to do in 2002 I would have been walking with angels for years (notice that I didn’t say hanging out with the devil).

December, good friends, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve

Many who don’t know SoCal or Los Angeles badmouth LA all the time. They do this without knowing the City of the Angels or Southern California.They do this without knowing what they are talking about. LA has smog, but it is much improved; read less than before (Denver has smog, Phoenix has smog—major cities have smog, and it depends where you are in that city in location to the sea how much is present). Definitely LA has traffic. It has worsened over the years, and it will get worse. Too many people want to live in LA (even though there is an exodus the population continues to grow).

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An early morn photo from the front porch of Layton & Vickie Hooper’s Fort Collins, Co., home in April 2012. I had a Ned Wynkoop talk in Centennial, Co., and Layton & Vickie invited me to stay at their home (about 70 miles north of Denver) for a 9 of 11 day research and speaking trip. I spent most of my time snowed-in in Fort Collins. That said, I had a great time with two people who opened their home to me and became my friends. Pailin could survive in this land, but my car and I cannot (both the car and I are surfer dudes; both of us would be found frozen on the roadside). (image © Louis Kraft 2012)

Seventy or eighty degree weather with sunshine and no smog in December.

That about says it all (if you forget the traffic).

Many people talk up the thrill of a white Christmas. Not lk. Back in 1997 a company in Boulder, Co., flew me in for three days to interview. They paid all expenses, including a rental car, and extended my time to over the weekend so I could look at property. To save them money I stayed at a friend’s house in Longmont. He was the leading engineer at the company. One night after dinner he took me outside to experience the temperature (my cold weather gear is a sport coat and scarf). He wore a t-shirt; I was shivering. “See,” he said, “not bad.” He had a thermometer outside; it was 18 degrees. After flying home the vice president said he was working on getting me a raise over my LA salary and would pay for the move. Before the deal was finalized he left the company for a position in California. The money offer was reduced and the company would not pay for the relocation. “Thank you, but no thank you,” I said politely. Although the Rockies had snow (the roads had been plowed), there was little on the ground in Longmont. In the coming years I would be snowed in during three separate trips to Colorado.

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Vee Morra became my friend at the end of the 1960s, when she and her husband, Doug Matheson, and I connected. Doug, an actor, also obtained his B.A. from the Theatre Department (now California State University, Northridge). Times change and Vee and Doug divorced, but eventually moved to Massachusetts to be near their son. I’m proud to say that they remained friends, and toward the end of his life she took care of him. Vee is open, inquisitive, and a true and loyal friend. She and Pailin quickly became friends on 12dec13, something I was thrilled to see. They are sitting in the living room at Tujunga House. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Veronica Morra, and Louis Kraft, 2013)

Veronica, “Vee,” Morra, a good friend of mine from our college days and after visited SoCal from Massachusetts in early December 2013. As she was staying with her long-time friend Saul Saladow, who spent four years with me in the Theater Department during our college years (and who went on to have a good career as a film editor), I invited them over for dinner. Pailin and Veronica (Vee) hit it off immediately. This made me feel good. The four of us enjoyed a good day and evening hanging out and chatting. This was an evening that I didn’t want to end. Vee and Pailin have continued their friendship on social media.

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This is one happy lady. This image of Pailin on 19dec13 is one of my favorites of her. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Pailin and my work on the house continued, but due to me falling behind on my writing the progress slowed. It had to or I wouldn’t be going to bed 24-7, but one of the places where it continued in a big way was in our bedroom. I’m proud to say that Pailin did a major redesign of it. It is our room, and it is her room. Although it still houses some of my important book/article material (including my work, Errol Flynn material, and Indian wars material not Wynkoop or Cheyenne Indians related), her influence dominates the room.

Christmas

On Christmas Pailin shared gifts and our love. We spent the day together quietly (and I was one with the birth of Jesus). We ate Thai food that Pailin cooked on this day (the reason follows). A good day for both of us enjoying our environment.

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Pete and Nina Senoff came over to hang out and share a Christmas dinner on 26dec13. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, Pete & Nina Senoff, 2013)

The next day we again celebrated Christmas, but with two good friends, Pete and Nina Senoff, who came over that evening. I cooked turkey and dressing with Anaheim chile and Pailin and Nina cooked Thai food. All three of us attempted to keep the spices as mellow as possible. Pete, whose stomach can’t handle food with even a hint of fire in it, avoided everything spicy.

Put Pailin and Nina together and they are like sisters whenever together.

Everyone thinks that Pailin and Nina brought Pete and I together. We had gone to high school but hadn’t seen each other in years. Nope, it was the other way around. Pete and I reconnected in 2012, I met Nina, and once Pailin and I started dating I introduced her to them. It’s a good combo. A good night for all.

New Year’s Eve

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Pailin & lk at Wat Thai in North Hollywood on 31dec13. We moved through the festivities enjoying ourselves. We saw friends, and Pailin saw friends that I met that night. As the midnight hour approached the monks led prayers in the main room (second floor) and in a room on street level). This is an important religious holiday for the Thai people, and let me tell you that everyone made me feel welcome. I am not an outsider. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

New Year’s Eve arrived. This has not been an evening that I have celebrated in years. The changing of the year represents another year older. I also deal with a lot of death and sadness at this time.

For the Thai people, this is an evening of prayer and celebration. Wat Thai, the Thai Temple in North Hollywood, which I had visited for the first time on Pailin’s birthday the previous July, and had visited numerous times since, hosts a festival that includes religious ceremony, Nina and Pete attended, as did some of Pailin’s other friends. It was a chilly evening and got into the 50s. It also presented a mix of prayer and celebration that I had never experienced before. BTW, I should add that I have always felt welcome at Wat Thai; the Monks have always been open and friendly and concerned about my well-being.

Introduction to a writing world & the beginning of our life together

As I hinted at above, my writing workload is extreme and 2014 has been an exercise in not falling too far behind. Without warning an Immigration meeting that I thought would be in mid-September at the absolute earliest changed. Suddenly it became August 11. Although I had been moving slowly toward what I thought would be a fall deadline turned my work schedule upside down. And let me tell you that the pressure built as I scrambled to prepare what we’d present (while seeing my writing output hit the skids). The growing pressure to prepare properly for our interview with Immigration on August 11 has dominated much of my time for weeks.

The above means not much has been accomplished in 2014 (as far as getting closer to book deliveries). See below for a current status:

  • I did take three weeks off from my projects to review a proposed National Park Services brochure on Ned Wynkoop (at the drop of a hat).
  • Writer/historian Jeff Barnes asked me to complete an interview for him (he posted it on his blog; An Interview with Author/Historian Louis Kraft).
  • Good Sand Creek research has been partially completed at the Braun Research Library (Autry National Center) but a lot more is to come.
  • Writing continues on Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway manuscript (although good progress content wise, I’m down on word count). This will change after the Immigration interview.
  • Great progress on The Discovery, the medical malpractice novel I’m doing with Bob Goodman (this, also, has been impacted by Immigration, but I will meet my deadline for the next 100 pages).
  • The Flynn/de Havilland book creeps forward.
  • I have promised Greg Lalire that I will complete the Geronimo article by year’s end (it is scheduled for the October 2015 issue of Wild West).
  • I wrote two short pieces for the August 2014 Wild West upon Greg Lalire’s request earlier this year, and completed the copyedit process, which also included “Wynkoop’s Gamble to End War.”
  • And finally the blogs. They are mandatory, for they continue to link me up with writers, historians, and fans. They bring in information and will hopefully result in additional work. Let me tell you that writing them and doing the photos/art/design is not a two-day project. I have a great friend in Denton, Texas, Glen Williams, who provides editorial comments when he can.

Pailin gives me room when I need to get something done when she is home. She never complains, and wants me to succeed.

Add the painting projects inside the house (not to mention the removal of stacks of books), the ongoing yard work (it is a jungle), and work to complete turning the front yard into a desert, and I just do not have enough hours in the day. … Also add that I spend about three hours a day that is geared toward me walking and sleeping.

But in spite of all of the above, Pailin and my lives continue in what I can only call an exploration of two lives and an ongoing friendship and bliss than neither of us had experienced before. She is like no other person I have known before. Every day is new and different and is based upon the bond that we took care to create slowly.

The importance of February 14

Before 2013 drew to a close Pailin and I had discussed marriage, and us remaining together for all time. She was my lady, my life, my best friend in ways totally different from any person I had ever known before.

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This is Louis Kraft, Sr., at a dinner party at my Thousand Oaks, Ca., home in summer 1991. He is sitting by the pool. A half block walk and you entered the Santa Monica Mountains. I have always liked dinner parties and over the years have hosted many. When my dad was alive he was always invited. My sister, her husband, and her two step-sons were present, as was my brother’s most-important lady in his life and her new husband (a great guy, who worked as a grip in film production), my great bud Jerry Argabrite and wonderful wife, Sue, and his son Jason, and my daughter Marissa rounded out the guests. M’s mother? She didn’t make an appearance. She was upstairs avoiding the event—supposedly sick. At this time I also owned a house in Encino, Ca. If you remember the song at the beginning of this blog, that time was about to happen times 10. (photo © Louis Kraft 1991)

I had thought that we’d marry in late spring or during the summer. Pailin wanted to marry on Valentine’s Day (February 14). I told her that this was not the best day in my life. Although my father and I had been at war for our entire lives (this is memoir stuff) he was always there for me. When my mother (his wife) went into the hospital for the last time on December 26, 1979, we spent every waking hour together with her until she died 10 days later. This ended our war. We became friends and bonded as I had never done before or since. When my younger brother died tragically 10 years later it was just him and me. He had a daughter, my sister, but she was out for herself. She had no clue her mother was dying, didn’t know her brother, and again had no clue her father was dying. I warned her two days before he died that the end was at hand, and on that fatal day I left over 30 unanswered messages on her phones. I took care of my father the last five-six years of his life, and our friendship and love grew. In the wee hours of February 15 my phone messages were answered. Defending her reason for ignoring my initial comment that our father would die, my sister said, “I didn’t believe you.” It was more than that; she had her weekend planned. My father died on Sunday, February 14, 1999.

February 14, 2014

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Pailin and I arrived late at the Albertson Chapel, having been caught in traffic. This image was taken shortly after we arrived. Left to right foreground: Sabrina Subanna, Kobie Poopan, Annie Aunroun, and Pailin (left rear: Nam & Greg Maradei, and Annette & Robert Florczak; right rear: Jackie Vinai and Anna Pinij).

I told Pailin that February 14 was not a good day for me. I also told her that it could be a good day for me, that it could be my last day with my father and my first day with her as my wife.

We worked hard and made it happen. February 14 is a day I’ll never forget.

Most of Pailin’s friends are in LA (or in Thailand, as are her brothers and sisters). Except for a few, my friends don’t live in LA (they are spread all over the place). We kept our wedding invites small (actually 19), and all lived locally. They had about a two-week notice for a day that fell on a Friday. We have lots of photos taken by our friends, but there isn’t room here to publish them (some have been seen on social media and I have printed others for the upcoming Immigration meeting).

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I invited my good friends Robert & Annette Florczak, Marjorie Chan (a film & TV costumer that has been my friend since we met in the early 1980s), Pete & Nina Senoff, and Greg & Nam Maradei. The other guests were Pailin’s close friends, including Sabrina Subanna (her niece, and a very special person in my life too), Montanee Sothtitham and Kobie Poopan, two ladies I enjoy knowing, Caterine Jensin, Siwan (Mam) Techadi and her husband Chai, Jackie Vinai, Cherry Keawpanyo, to name some. Other Thai friends had been invited, but their bosses refused to allow them a few hours off work. You do not want to know my opinion of these two employer assholes, for it isn’t printable.

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The ladies having fun with a goodbye kiss. Left to right: Jackie Vinai, Caterine Jensin, Annette Florczak, Pailin, Annie Aunroun, Jenny Atchara, Sabrina Subanna, and Montanee Sothtitham.

Most everyone had to return to work, but those who could came to a reception at Tujunga House, including Caterine, Jackie, Sabrina, Robert, Greg, and Pete. Pailin prepared Thai food (herb soup, grass noodle salad, and fried noodle), and two of her friends (Cherry Keawpanyo and Pulsri Inwattanna) who couldn’t get time off created a Thai desert that they gave her on a platter (Kanomchan). Good food with good friends.

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Pailin and lk with the Reverend Fernando Howard, who had married us on 20feb14 (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Six days after our marriage we visited Fernando Howard, who married us. He is an Apache, living in Los Angeles. During our pre-marriage meetings he had told me that he studied his people’s history, and especially Chiricahua Apache war leader and mystic Geronimo. As you can guess we talked about Geronimo and the Apaches. He included an Apache prayer in our wedding ceremony. During our visit Pailin and I gave him one of my books, Gatewood & Geronimo (University of New Mexico Press, 2000). He was thrilled, and it made me happy.

We did not go on a honeymoon. That is still to come. Soon I hope.

April and the Errol Flynn connection

In June 2009 I was set to speak on a panel at a Western Writers of America convention, but my back went out. As it was a road trip I canceled. Saturday, June 20, 2009, marked the 100th anniversary of Errol Flynn’s birthday (he had died at age 50 in 1959).

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Pailin and Jan McNulty at Tujunga House on 11apr2014. (photo by Tom McNulty 2014)

Jack and Louise Marino hosted a party at their Burbank, Ca., home, a party that I would have missed. Jack and Louise only lived a few miles from Tujunga House so the drive wasn’t too uncomfortable. I know a lot of Flynn people due to my Flynn writing. But on this day, other than seeing friends I had the great bonus of meeting two gents that I knew long distance but not in person. David DeWitt, who hosts a terrific Flynn blog (The Errol Flynn Blog), and Tom McNulty and his wonderful wife Jan. Tom wrote by far the best biography on Flynn (Errol Flynn: The Life and Career, McFarland and Company, Inc., 2004). BTW, Tom has a unique blog that reviews literature and at times adds his comments about Flynn and his work (Thomas McNulty’s Blog).

David was a houseguest in early 2013 while he visited Los Angeles to see if he would move here. Good times as we bonded and spent our time chatting about anything and everything. Alas, he decided to make South Carolina his home.

Jump forward five years to April 2014

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Tom McNulty and lk at Tujunga House on 11apr14. (photo by Jan McNulty 2014)

Tom and Jan again visited SoCal to see the Writers and Illustrators of the Future Awards ceremony and see relatives and friends. On April 11 they spent some time with Pailin and myself at Tujunga House. Jan and Pailin immediately became sisters and the four us enjoyed each other’s company, which of course included Flynn talk. The time passed in a flash, but we did see them at the writers and illustrators awards ceremony two days later at the Wilshire Ebell Theatre in Los Angeles.

The Thai New Year

The Thai people have a number of holidays, but the most important is Songkran, their New Year, which happens on April 13.

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Left to right: lk, Belle Marsan Henning, Sabrina Subanna, Pailin, and Cherry Keawpanyo standing on the balcony of the main floor of Wat Thai of Los Angeles on 13apr13. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Pailin asked if I would participate. Of course I would. This day, which includes festivities, is a very holy day with prayers. It also includes donations and gifts to the monks. We joined the celebration at Wat Thai in North Hollywood. Many of Pailin’s coworkers and friends also attended, and many of them are my friends now. Also present were Belle and John Marson Henning, who bought the Thai Swedish Massage in Studio City (it is now called the Belle Sabai Thai Massage), where Pailin works as a massage therapist.

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LK with two of his favorite ladies on the Thai New Year (13apr14), my life and love Pailin, and her niece, my very special in-law Sabrina Subanna. We are on the balcony outside the main room of Wat Thai. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Sabrina Subanna, and Louis Kraft 2014)

There are prayers and there is a festival. Wat Thai is open to all and the atmosphere is always friendly. I always feel welcome. More, I’m always open to experiencing something new. I can’t/won’t say anything in detail here for honestly there is still a major language barrier for me. I try. I always try. And like Spanish, French, Apache, and Cheyenne, I have Thai words, … more Thai words than the others except Spanish, but this won’t last for long.

My knowledge will grow with time. It always has in the past, and it will in my future.

Flynn continued to dominate our spring

Good pal and Flynn expert Robert Florczak, who was present when Pailin and I met on June 15, 2013, saw that Flynn’s last A-film (and his next to last film) was going to play at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood on May 15.EgyptianTheatre_entry+RF&PSK_montage15may14_ws

Good timing for us as Pailin had the day off. I thought her first complete viewing of a Flynn film would be one of his swashbucklers or westerns as she likes action films. She had seen the end of San Antonio (1946) and Adventures of Don Juan (1948) when I hadn’t completed exercising before she arrived home at night (I exercise with film as it is a great way to study plot, character, and dialogue, and in the case of Flynn a good way to study his acting as I’m writing about it). She liked both. She would now see The Roots of Heaven, which dealt with saving elephants in Africa. Flynn had a supporting role. Annette had to work and couldn’t join us but Greg and Nam Maradei did. A good time.

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I caught a great portrait of Pailin in the upper lobby of the Egyptian sans the crowd as the film’s screening was co-sponsored by the French Consulate in LA before the screening. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft (2014)

After the screening I immediately asked Pailin what she thought of the film. I feared that she might have been bored, but she wasn’t. The film had a wide scope with a good mix of characters, it slipped in humor and had the threat of violence, and unfortunately death. We saw a great color print.

She has since seen They Died With their Boots On (1941) with Flynn as George Armstrong Custer and Olivia de Havilland as Libbie Custer (this is the film that hooked me on the Indian wars). She loved the green onion scene with Flynn and Olivia, and since we often eat green onions she play-acts Olivia’s Libbie who lied about loving onions. Next up for my lady, The Sea Hawk (1940) or Adventures of Don Juan. I still have hope that she’ll agree to learn the sword. Hope always burns eternal.


For those of you waiting to see The Last of Robin Hood, those days are getting close (at least in LA). Robert, who functioned as the technical consultant on the film has let me know that it will begin screening in LA at the end of August. Kevin Kline plays Flynn (if ever I had produced a film on Flynn during Kline’s entire film career he would have been my only choice for the part), Susan Sarandon plays Florence Aadland (Beverly’s mother), and Dakota Fanning plays Beverly Aadland (Flynn’s companion and last love). With luck Pailin can get the night off when I see the film with Robert and hopefully Annette.

The writing world put on hold

Progress on Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway has been slow as research has dominated the time allotted to this manuscript. June kept me at the Braun Research Library, Autry National Center (former Southwest Museum), at Mount Washington. Pailin wants to take part in future research trips that must happen later this year or next year. Her enthusiasm is infectious. She is interested in exploring everything, and is always ready to go.

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Pailin with Doris and Bob Goodman. Flemings Restaurant in Woodland Hills, Ca., on 26jun14 (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, Doris & Bob Goodman (2014)

On June 26 Pailin and I met Bob and Doris Goodman at Flemings in Woodland Hills for dinner. Bob is the physician that I had partnered with for The Discovery, a medical malpractice story that is based upon reality but which is fiction. I’ve known Bob and Doris for about 25 years. Bob is my internal medicine and heart specialist and has played an important role in me continuing to walk this earth. Over the years we have become friends. Back in 2009 he hired me as a consultant on some of his writing projects. In 2013 my working relationship with him deepened when I agreed to partner with him on this novel. Although it is character-driven we are approaching as a thriller to keep the pages turning.

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LK with Bob Goodman at Flemings Restaurant in Woodland Hills, Ca., on 26jun14. Bob and I have partnered on The Discovery, and both of us think that it is going to be a page-turner. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft, Louis Kraft, Doris & Bob Goodman (2014)

Pailin still has the ongoing task of mastering the English language. Let me tell you that she has made great progress. It is something that she works at on a daily basis. Word meaning and pronunciation combined with sentence structure. My lady is shy but once she meets someone she is capable of opening up with a warmth that to date has allowed her to win over all of my friends that she has met.

At Flemings Doris and Bob didn’t allow Pailin’s vocabulary or shyness to hinder this first meeting. Doris was absolutely marvelous and within half an hour she and Pailin had bonded big time. And Bob was right there with Doris in opening up to Pailin’s charm.

A July 3, 2014, notice

Progress had continued on The Discovery, as it had with the Sand Creek manuscript. But when a document dated July 3, 2014, arrived work on both manuscripts came to a complete halt. Pailin had been notified that her (and my) meeting with U.S. Immigration would happen on August 11. Originally we had been told that it wouldn’t be until mid-September at the earliest. I had been slowly moving toward the latter date with my preparation. Taking more than a month off the anticipated date placed me in a tight spot in regards to what I still needed to complete.

At first I had attempted to continue making progress with the malpractice novel, but I quickly realized that I had to stop. Our preparation for the U.S. Immigration meeting is multi-leveled with the ultimate goal being that we convince the agent who interviews us that we are who we claim to be—two people who fell in love and married.

On social media I have shared perhaps 35 percent of the images that we’ll present on August 11. A number of them are reprinted in this blog as they help tell our story.

Oh, although behind on my upcoming deadline for delivering the next 100 pages of The Discovery manuscript, I will make it. Luckily I had initially set September for that delivery. This is still totally doable.

Bob and Doris will be our first dinner guests after the August 11 meeting is history. They had made it clear that they wanted to taste Pailin’s Thai cooking. They won’t be disappointed.

The Fourth of July

The sale of fireworks is illegal in Los Angeles. No matter, for explosions begin three or four days prior to the holiday and continue for days after the day of bombs bursting in air. I generally am a stay-at-home humbug on the evening of the Fourth as I want to hang close to the house with water hoses at the ready.

ps&lk_4jul14_2shotCollage_wsThe above is not a joke. LA is a fire zone even without drought. We are limited to three days watering outside per week (for us, Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday).

Pailin wanted to remain at home with me on the Fourth as she wanted to experience the war zone (some of her friends gave her grief for not partying with them). The garage is detached and has a flat roof. I placed chairs on it, and we used an extended ladder to reach our perch for our surround-sound light show that would last deep into the night.

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The left and right top photos are views from the Tujunga House driveway looking east. The explosions had been set off from the middle of the street about 600 yards away. The middle top explosion is about 1/4 mile north of Tujunga House. The bottom landscape is looking west just before nightfall. The left insert is of a parachute bomb that landed in the brush in front of the entry to Tujunga House. Over 12 other fireworks of varying types landed on the Tujunga House property.


Trust me, the 4th of July is not my favorite holiday as I view it as little more than a fire watch. The police? Hell they get the night off (absolutely no sirens or patrol cars on 4jul14; on any other day at least half a dozen).

And July 5, 2014, which is a special day

ps&lk_PresidentThaiRest_3jul14-1_wsJuly 5 is Pailin’s birthday. We had gone to the President Thai Restaurant in Pasadena on Thursday, July 3, to enjoy an eat-out dinner and to celebrate her birthday partially.

It was a good night for me with my lady, who was oh-so happy.

On the fifth we were up early to eat and do our chores so that we could go to Wat Thai before she had to go to work.

Since her move to Los Angeles Pailin has celebrated her birthdays at Wat Thai.

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Pailin and LK with the two monks that prayed for my wife. The prayer had just ended. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

On this very special day she donated to the temple and the monks prayed for her. This is the second time that I have taken part in this very exceptional day in Pailin’s life. I know more now, but not nearly enough. I am now at home and relaxed in this religious environment to which I’m still only an observer. But it is a key day in Pailin’s life, and that makes it an extraordinary day in my life.

And in conclusion

Since February we have been working with our lawyer to prepare for what will happen on August 11. We are prepared, Pailin is totally relaxed with me much less so. That said, I’m always relaxed in interviews (tomorrow will be more of the same). For those of you that have supported what will soon happen, thank you. We’ll have our lawyer and interpreter present. Tomorrow will be a good day to live.

Upcoming blogs

  • The National Park Service, Ned Wynkoop, and an unacceptable approach to documenting history
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers
  • The song remembers when

— Louis Kraft

Cheyennes, George Bird Grinnell, & the Braun Research Library, Autry National Center

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog

As in the past, click on an image to expand it


The best place to start is with a little background of something that doesn’t exist anymore (at least not as it was, and sometime in the not-too-distant future never again). As I type these words I’m sad. The city of Los Angeles had something special.

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The Southwest Museum of the American Indian, which is now part of the Autry National Center of the American West. (art © Louis Kraft 2014)

Writers of history and especially the American Indian shame on you. The diverse population of the city of Los Angeles, which I believe still has the largest Native American population not living on the Rez (most likely the Navajo Reservation, as it dwarfs the other reservations), I’m ashamed of you too. But more I’m ashamed of the city and the county of Los Angeles, for you had a treasure and you didn’t support it. Shame on you!!!!

Los Angeles, you constantly brag about the quality of culture that exists within the city and county borders. We have everything. Great museums, great theaters, great restaurants (I think every food possible, sans one—American Indian; how many times do I have to say that damned word, “shame”?). And let’s not forget the mountains, surf, and weather that are to die for. Yes, we do have a number of days during summer and a number of them string together and the temperature is an ungodly 100+ degrees, but these have shrunk in number over recent years. We don’t compare to Phoenix and the rest of the Valley of the Sun; for unlike the residents of that sprawling metropolis the people of LA don’t fry their eggs on the pavement (that’s right; lk isn’t seeking any kissy points from Arizona; the only establishment that welcomes him back is Guidon Books in Old Scottsdale). Oh, I should add that Christmas time is shorts and broad-brimmed hats, and if you still have your American football legs (mine were during the days of the late-great Johnny U. and Joe Montana) a round of competitive tossing and catching the pigskin after a Christmas dinner under blue skies in mid-70 to low 80 degree weather with 20 or so buddies often happened.

Charles Lummis, the American Southwest, and well you know, … the future

Charles Lummis (1859-1928) earned a living as a journalist, but without doing due-diligence research I wonder how much family money he had.

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This image for this magnificent exhibit that the then Autry Museum of Western Heritage presented for a little over three months in 1996 represents what the Autry had been and what the 2003 merger with the Southwest Museum can become. Friend Paul Andrew Hutton played a major role in this exhibit coming to life. It was by far the best exhibit that I have ever seen at the Autry or the Southwest. Let us hope that the merged museums can again recreate this type of excellence. I saw the exhibit twice; first with my good friend writer/historian Eric Niderost and later by myself. … Over the years the Autry would create another masterpiece, but I believe most of it came from in-house—they paid a long-overdue homage to Gene Autry a few years back. Alas, it is long gone, but it should have been made into a permanent exhibit, and this is coming from someone who didn’t like Gene’s singing, B-moves, or what is now called the “Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.” Hell, I guess that I now live in Anaheim of North Hollywood, Los Angeles. (photo © Louis Kraft 1996)

I’ve not met many rich journalists. In direct relation to what he would do, Lummis stood for Indian rights and historic preservation. He was also an historian, photographer, ethnographer, and archaeologist. He had a passion for the Southwest and the Indian people that called this land home.

At the beginning of the 20th century, Charles Lummis, who was the driving force behind the Southwest Society, saw the creation of a museum that would house art, history, and science of the American Southwest. The Southwest Museum opened in downtown Los Angeles in 1907. Seven years later it moved to its current location at Mount Washington on the western side of the Arroyo Seco, and in which in the coming decades the 110 freeway would snake through and connect downtown Los Angeles with the city of Pasadena in the San Gabriel Valley. Sumner P. Hunt designed the original structure in the style of Spanish Colonial Revival that climbed the hillside. Over the years additions would be added. The Braun Research Library opened in 1979. If one doesn’t drive up the hill to the parking lot, he or she can walk from the subway just below the famed institution to a tunnel that leads to an elevator that rises 150 feet to the bottom floor of the original structure.

The Friends of the Southwest Museum claim that the museum houses 238,000 Indian artifacts. True? I don’t know, but that’s a pretty impressive figure. Over the course of his life Lummis amassed a large and impressive collection of American Indian artifacts that mostly focused on the Southwest, and quite a number of them along with his photos, papers, and documents are housed at the museum. Other notable papers and/or collections include those of Edward S. Curtis, Frederick Webb Hodge, and George Bird Grinnell, among others.

There has been a lot of planning and politics since the merger of the Southwest Museum and the Autry in 2003. It is not my intent to comment on that here other than to say that even though the historic Mount Washington site may someday be history, the oh so-precious collection it houses will continue to live in a 200,000 square foot building in Burbank, Ca.

The Braun Research Library is one of the premier archives that I have spent many hours, days, months, and more visiting in an attempt to learn what is hopefully the truth. Other than the Braun here are other classy archives in which I’ve researched:

  • The Fray Angélico Chávez History Library (Santa Fe, N. Mex.)
  • USC Warner Bros. Archives (Los Angeles, Ca.)
  • Arizona Historical Society (Tucson, Az.)
  • Western History Collection, Denver Public Library (Co.)
  • History Colorado (Denver; I have not researched there since the new facility opened)
  • Fort Larned National Historic Site (Larned, Ks.)

Of course, there is a disclaimer here, and it is as follows. Sometimes it is more economical to order research. National Archives (various locations) and Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University, New Haven, Conn. are two such library-archives.

A long and winding road to the Braun Research Library

Let’s drift back to the dark ages. In 1987 I spoke at the Order of the Indian Wars (OIW) “First Annual West Coast Indian Wars Conference” in Fullerton, Ca. (alas, it was the first and only OIW SoCal conference).

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Jerry Russell holding court on private property above the supposed Sand Creek village massacre site in 1987 (see photo of Marissa Kraft, below, for more about this visit). (photo © Louis Kraft 1987)

This event cemented my relationship with Jerry Russell, who ran the OIW and who always had my back covered.

Jerry is long time gone, and I still miss him. At that conference I met Mike Koury (The Old Army Press), a great speaker (he should do it more often), who took over the Order of the Indian Wars after Jerry’s death. Mike and I became friends and for years and years he has done everything possible to help my writing. I also met Chris Summit, former historian at the Custer Battlefield National Monument (since renamed to the Little Bighorn National Monument). He was round and perhaps short. I thought that he would make an impact on Indian wars writing, but he dropped from sight (don’t know why; hope he is well). The reason I mention him is because during the two-day event (February 28-March 1) he told me that I should check out the Braun Research Library at the Southwest Museum for it would be a boon to my Cheyenne Indian research.

I never forgot Chris Summit’s words.

Years passed and believe it or not, with the publication of Custer and the Cheyenne (Upton and Sons, Publishers, 1995), a quirk of fate thrust me into a 10-year quest to understand a long-forgotten 6th U.S. Cavalry officer named Charles Gatewood and his involvement with White Mountain and Chiricahua Apaches. A Custer book signing at Guidon Books, in Old Scottsdale, Az., alerted me to the Gatewood Collection at the Arizona Historical Society in Tucson. The following month resulted in a nine-day trip to view the Gatewood Collection (over the years I would spend another three+ months at the archive).

Enter Kim Walters

Gatewood had preempted what I thought would be my next Indian wars book (soldier/Indian agent Ned Wynkoop and his relationship with Cheyennes and Arapahos). In the late 1990s I took off the Gatewood/Apache blinders and heeding Chris Summit’s suggestion contacted the Braun about doing Cheyenne research as related to my longtime project on Wynkoop.

This is when I met Kim Walters.

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Kim Walters doing research at the Braun on June 18. I hadn’t seen Kim since the Wynkoop book had been published and it was good to see her again. Her current title is: “Ahmanson Curator of Native American History and Culture—Autry National Center.” (photo © Louis Kraft and Kim Walters 2014)

At that time Kim’s title was “Director, Braun Research Library,” a title she held from 1990 until 2011. She quickly became my go-to person. My sole interest during these visits to the Braun was the Cheyennes in Wynkoop’s life. With Kim’s terrific digging I became privy to prime Cheyenne research in the George Bird Grinnell Papers. At the time I didn’t know of a 77-page document that lists Grinnell’s Papers (and don’t think it existed in its current state then).

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Head Librarian Liza Posas shows lk where the George Bird Grinnell Papers are stored in the Braun’s stacks. Liza and I have discussed me submitting suggestions that will aid the 77-page listing of Grinnell’s papers, among other things that are not for this blog. The suggestions will not be egotistical; simply constructive comments that will hopefully aid researchers in the future. (photo © Louis Kraft and Liza Posas 2014)

I would not see this extended list until Braun Head Librarian Liza Posas supplied it to me earlier this year (see below for more on Liza). Good digging by Kim!!! And especially so since the key documents she located for me are not listed in the contents of the Grinnell Papers. That said, they are in the folders listed in the 77-page Grinnell Papers document (I checked to ensure that they were still located in the same folders). The information that Kim found for me saw print in Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011).

Soon after completing the Cheyenne Indian research for the Wynkoop manuscript I returned to the Braun to search for images for Gatewood & Geronimo (University of New Mexico Press, 2000), and again I struck gold in various collections with Kim’s help. The images included:

  • A little Apache girl about four years old holding a small puppy (perhaps my favorite image ever in any of my publications for I could write a book about her)
  • A studio portrait of Gen. George Crook (1880s)
  • The Chokonen Chiricahua Apache chief Chihuahua
  • The Chihenne Chiricahua Apache war leader Kaytennae w/Benito
  • The mixed-blood Mexican-Apache Mickey Free
  • The Chihenne Chiricahua Apache Mangus

Moving forward

The Custer book tossed my name into the hat, but it was Gatewood & Geronimo that made me a player. Kim Walters and the Braun helped make this happen. Thank you, Kim.

Custer and the Cheyenne had been contracted but G&G was spec. I figured I didn’t have a good enough name to move away from regional presses and submitted the manuscript to Westernlore Press (Tucson, Az.). It was immediately accepted, and I said I wanted a contract. “I’ll get to it, when I finish one of my books,” Lynn R. Bailey told me (he was also a writer). I gave him three months and repeated my request. He told me he’d get to it when he was ready. I fired him, and that day sent a query letter to the University of Arizona Press. I waited a week. Nothing happened. I sent a query to the University of New Mexico Press.

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(left to right): Bonita & Dr. Leo Oliva (more on good friends Leo & Bonita in an upcoming blog), and Dr. Durwood Ball. After Leo and I spoke at the Pawnee Fork village site (he about the events that led up to Gen. Winfield Hancock destroying a Tsistsista, Dog Man, Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork in Kansas in April 1867 and I about Wynkoop’s effort to save the village), Durwood followed us back to Fort Larned so he could see the hill that Hancock’s army climbed on April 14, 1867, only to halt when they saw the battle line of Cheyennes and Sioux in the valley. Wynkoop asked permission of Hancock to ride between the lines and sooth Indian fears. Edmund Guerrier, a mixed-blood Cheyenne, rode into the valley with him. Durwood spoke that night about Col. Edwin Vose Sumner, the subject of his next book. BTW, the photo is black & white, and with the late afternoon sun everyone was in deep shadow. I turned the image into a duotone and lightened it. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

Durwood Ball, then editor-in-chief at University of New Mexico Press, contacted me immediately; he wanted the G&G manuscript (the U of A Press contacted me a week later; am sorry—too late). Durwood, like Jerry Russell, always had my back, especially during the production process which had a few bumps. I don’t see him near enough, but whenever we are together it is like we are neighbors and hang out on weekends.

A quick return to the Braun, but not in person

I had less success at the Braun with the second Gatewood book, Lt. Charles Gatewood & His Apache Wars Memoir (University of Nebraska Press, 2005). I had wanted to use the same Apache girl image again in this book, and started the process perhaps three months before my deadline but due to problems with the Southwest’s schedule (nothing to do with Kim) I couldn’t secure the needed documentation to proceed with the publisher. The deadline arrived with nothing from the Southwest. No big deal for I always have another 10 or more images that I want to use with documentation in place if an alternate is needed. Problem immediately solved. I wrote fully two-thirds of the text and the remainder is my editing of Gatewood’s long-winded and very passive prose. This volume is by far my best-selling book (I think in large part as the publisher promoted it aggressively).

Chuck Rankin, the Cheyennes, and the tragedy of Sand Creek

For me writing nonfiction, real nonfiction, is a long-term process. Put another way, it is not wham bam, thank you ma’am. What does this less than satisfactory statement mean? I must put in the time and walk the walk to know what I’m writing about.

This section needs to lead with a major disclaimer. Chuck Rankin, editor-in-chief at OU Press, is a good friend. He has also played perhaps the most key role in my Indian wars life, and this includes my writing not with OU Press. He liked my last blog with a lone criticism; he did not like the image I posted of him. Chuck has told me many times now that he prefers to reside in the shadows and not in the limelight. I do my best not to talk about him, but damn!, if you could only use one word to describe me as a writer it would be biographer. Chuck, I can’t help myself. It’s what I do.

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lk with Chuck Rankin on 15oct11 at the Western History Association convention in Oakland, Ca. Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek became available to the public in Oakland. Chuck gave me the book poster behind us. I framed it and it resides in my living room at Tujunga House. I know Chuck doesn’t like this type of publicity, but he does great work and any writer who works with him is damned lucky. This should not remain in the shadows; it should be proclaimed! (photo © Louis Kraft & Chuck Rankin 2011)

Right around the time that Chuck and I signed the contract for the Wynkoop book (without checking, I think 2005), he started pitching me on writing a book about the Sand Creek Massacre. I said, “No, I don’t write books about war. I write about people.” He pitched again and eventually we began to talk about the possibility of a book. Sometime before the Wynkoop book was published I pitched him on a “people” book, and the conversation continued. We came to a verbal agreement on the storyline about the time the Wynkoop book saw print. It took me almost another two years to create a 36-page proposal that was satisfactory to both myself, Chuck, and OU Press. During the entire time Chuck supported the project 100 percent. His input and patience were exceptional. Two reviewers also provided constructive criticism (one being good friend and great Indian wars historian John Monnett).

Unfortunately I won’t tell you about the storyline.

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My daughter Marissa and I had been tracking Custer when Jerry Russell’s OIW traveling tour ended at the supposed Sand Creek Massacre site on private property in 1987. I called Jerry and asked if we could join the trip to Sand Creek and following banquet. He graciously said yes. This actually turned into an article for True West (1990). While the tour assembled on the bluffs, Marissa and I explored the land below. There were rattlesnakes, including babies. She isn’t looking at one here. (Photo © Louis & Marissa Kraft 1987)

Without telling you anything I need to pull the Tsistsistas from the mists of time and into their golden age, and as soon as possible I need to make the story people driven.

More, I must interlink people story lines. When you have one or two lead players this isn’t a hard task. However, when you increase the major player count to 10 or more, this task becomes complicated. To make this work I must know the leading (and supporting) players intimately, for only then will I be able to move about in the story smoothly. Research, research, and more research is the key (and this is mixed with writing and rewriting every step of the way).

For all my research and writing dealing with white/Cheyenne relations and history (and this dates back to the dark ages), there is still a lot that I don’t know about the Cheyennes (and to a lesser degree about the whites and mixed-blood players). This is a no-brainer; I must increase my knowledge about the Cheyennes and others.

The Braun becomes a major player

Liza Posas, Head Librarian

When I contacted Kim at the beginning of the year regarding revisiting Mr. Grinnell’s Papers she informed me that she had moved on at the Autry. She pointed me to Liza Posas, copied Liza on the email, and suggested that she send the 77-page Grinnell listing. This marked the beginning of my relationship with Liza (I believe that it was in February).

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John Monnett at The Fort on 10apr13, a cool restaurant in Morrison, Co., that serves venison, rattlesnake, buffalo, and so on. He may look like a dreamer, but he’s actually a very good listener. (photo Louis Kraft & John Monnett 2013)

My friend John Monnett constantly has Cheyenne manuscripts in progress, and we had talked about my return. When he learned of the extended list he asked to see it, and Liza sent it to him. Months would pass before I could visit the Braun and meet Liza and Research Services Associate Manola Madrid (more about Manola below). Liza and Manola prepared to work closely with me to ensure that I saw what I wanted/needed to see.

No Kim. Shock, pure shock? No, not at all. This might have been my first reaction to a change that I didn’t expect, but it vanished beginning with Liza’s first contact with me.

During our initial emails she partnered with me to ensure that I was primed for a successful search regardless of the final outcome. What? What does “I was primed for a successful search regardless of the final outcome” mean? Just this: If I find documentation I can use, great; but if not, and I am certain that I have looked at everything that is related to my search and found nothing, I have also succeeded. Huh? That’s right, I have succeeded for I no longer need to worry that I missed something because the search was not complete, that is I didn’t look at everything.

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Liza Posas at her desk at the Braun. (photo © Louis Kraft and Liza Posas 2014)

To repeat, and I’m talking about Liza here, her lone goal was to help my research succeed. And when I met her late on that first day—wow! I met a person who was not only involved and interested but would be available (even though she had to spend time at the Autry across town). And more, she’s a fun and positive and bright individual. The Braun has a first class person performing a needed task of ensuring that our history—yours, mine, and specifically in this case, the lifeway and history of the Cheyennes will continue to survive.

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This is my MacBook Pro on the first floor of the Braun at the beginning of the day on 18jun14. You can see the open balconies of the second floor. I spent a good amount of my time at this table and to a lesser extent the other tables in the room. Intense work is about to begin. My kind of workplace! (photo © Louis Kraft 2014)

Liza okayed some research for John Monnett, and it happened. The year 2013 gave John and myself time to cement our relationship thanks to our mutual friend Layton Hooper, who only became my friend that year when he and his wonderful wife Vicki opened their home to me in Fort Collins, Co. I think it was for nine days (or somewhere close). Good times, times I want to repeat (if not in their new home in Arizona then at Tujunga House). Ditto you John M.

I will say this; I have always put in the time and have walked the walk. More important, none of my books are based on a preconceived thesis that I must prove at all costs. You would be shocked if you knew how many so-called historians work from a set premise and everything they write and every citation they use only sees print because it supports what they are selling. Worse, some of these historians cite fiction, create quotes, and facts that don’t exist. This discussion is not for here but will appear in a future blog.

Manola Madrid, Research Services Associate

Manola Madrid greeted me at the guard station in the Southwest Museum on my first day back at the Braun. She had worked with me in the past and we had an instant connection. On this day we worked on the third floor.

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Manola Madrid on the third floor of the Braun. On this day, June 9th I worked at the table facing the Braun’s stacks. During a break she and I chatted. I asked if I could snap a few photos and she was open to the idea. It was at this time that we discussed John Wayne and his portrayal in John Ford’s The Searchers (1956). Photo © Louis Kraft and Manola Madrid 2014)

Like Liza, Manola was and is a delight to work with (Liza spent her morning at the Autry but returned to the SW Museum that afternoon and we officially met). Manola is a wizard with the archival material and she always had what I wanted to view ready upon my arrival. We have a lot in common and often when I came up for air from my prolonged and intense viewing of pages we chatted. And our subjects freely drifted and swirled about in what caught our interest at that moment. Overall I think highly of John Ford’s film The Searchers for how it explores racism on the frontier. John Wayne is brilliant; I only like one other of his performances (She Wore A Yellow Ribbon). Manola had a different take on the film, and that was the portrayal of the Comanches wasn’t very good and that over the years Ford did not portray the American Indians in a positive way. I agree with Manola.

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One of the numerous DVD covers for the film.

Still, Manola’s view doesn’t diminish Wayne’s brutal portrayal of a man who lives on hate but who must find his own soul or murder his kin whom he spends the entire film searching for as she has been tainted living in captivity. For me the film works because of the murderous hatred that drives Wayne’s search but more importantly because an ingrained love for a child now an adult is strong enough to prevent murder. This story premise is strong and overrides the clichéd portrayal of the Comanches (but then the story is told through Wayne’s racist eyes). A strong-strong piece of storytelling.

If you haven’t seen it, you must.

Hanging out with Liza and Manola at the Braun

When I research I become a predator; that is I’m a hunter for information.

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Manola Madrid working on Kraft’s photocopy request on 18jun14 (this will easily take her deep into July). One thing I learned a long time ago, a researcher must “work smart.” That is, he/she must document what they see while ensuring that they request copies of what they can’t transcribe error-free during their allotted time at the archive. (photo © Louis Kraft and Manola Madrid 2014)

I’m searching for people and actions and I’m not locked into Tsistsista Chief Black Kettle or Northern Tsistsista warrior Roman Nose or Dog Man Chief Bull Bear (although anything that I can find about them that I don’t know is gold). Dog Man Chief Tall Bull is always on my wanted list but he is good at avoiding detection. There is a fifth player who has appeared in three of my books, Stone Forehead. But this search at the Braun (and it will continue at least three-fold in the future) I’m open to experiencing a people and lifeway that I don’t fully know. To date the Braun hasn’t provided much on High-back Wolf (at least not yet). His death, although I think I know how and why it happened, is shrouded in mystery (read: stories that don’t coincide).

Early on I became overwhelmed with letters from George E. Hyde, who wrote A Life of George Bent written from his letters (OU Press, 1968). I requested (I thought) one folder of letters, and that was all I expected. There were more. Four, five, six, more (?) … I didn’t count, and all with the same folder number but with a letter or number extension (Hyde pops up throughout Grinnell’s papers). The letters are a marvel. There are copies of Grinnell’s letters to Hyde (but few in comparison). Ladies and gents, in case you don’t know it Hyde worked as a writer-editor for Grinnell (not once, but at least twice over the years).

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The lk hardbound of the seventh printing of the OU Press reprint (1983) of Grinnell’s 1915 classic book.

Here’s my humble opinion on what I saw: George Hyde should have had a writing credit on Grinnell’s book The Fighting Cheyennes, and I believe he should have had the leading credit. How’s that for a piece of heresy? Why? How? I’m sorry, but this was not what I searched for (I took only a few notes from this for a book that I’ll never write unless I live to 100).

… Obviously Hyde functioned as a ghost writer (and he provided ranges in his negotiated fees). What follows are paraphrases from what I saw of Hyde’s work for Grinnell (and they did not come from what I saw in the original Hyde folder I viewed):

  • Hyde informed Grinnell that the 17 page chapter he provided was loaded with errors, all of which he corrected. He then rewrote the chapter and it grew to 23 pages.
  • Hyde submitted a chapter that he wrote from scratch upon Grinnell’s request (and this was not a lone instance).

I wonder how Hyde felt about with how Grinnell recognized his contribution to The Fighting Cheyennes: “Mr. George E. Hyde has verified most of the references and has given me the benefit of his careful study of the history of early travel on the plains.” That’s it. The quote is from: Reprint 1915. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, seventh printing, 1983, x.

If I were George Hyde, I wouldn’t have been pleased.

A question for thought: How many of the words in The Fighting Cheyennes are Hyde’s and not Grinnell’s?

I must state that I’m not belittling Grinnell. He was adventurous and went after what he considered important, and by so doing carved out a highly successful and extraordinary life and career.

**********

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The lk copy of volume 1 of the hardcopy reprint of Grinnell’s 1923 two-volume classic (New York, Cooper Square Publishers, Inc., 1962), The Cheyenne Indians: Their history and ways of life. Of course Grinnell adds firepower to the misspelling of Ben Clark’s name (see “A surprise discovery”) Even though Grinnell received letters and invaluable help from the Indian wars scout and Cheyenne interpreter, he misspelled his name in the Preface (I’ve seen what I’m about quote in more recent paperbound versions of the book, in an Introduction). Grinnell wrote (p. xv), “In the South, Ben Clark helped me.” Three paragraphs later (xvi) he stated, “I owe much” to my interpreters, which included Clark, among others. … I can’t see Grinnell making this blatant spelling error; could it have made it into the printed book due to erroneous editorial insistence upon spelling Ben Clarke’s name without an “e”? Probably.

That first day I moved away from Mr. Hyde (he would pop up again and again, and sometimes in a totally surprising location). Manola was cool with this, making it clear that she would provide whatever I wanted to see.

And see I would do. And this would include early Cheyenne life and migration that I had not seen in book form. I would also see tidbits of key players that I didn’t know.

A surprise discovery

Ben Clark was Custer’s chief of scouts during the attack on Black Kettle’s Cheyenne village on the Washita River in Indian Territory on November 27, 1868. Ben Clark and George Armstrong Custer did not get along, but I have seen primary source information that Clark provided and it was key to me writing Custer and the Cheyenne for Upton and Sons, Publishers. Guess what? The primary source information was listed as Ben “Clark,” as has been every reference in book form that I have seen on Clark. Oops!!! Ben Clarke—that’s right “Clarke”—was a very literate man. He not only could write good sentences that are intelligent, his handwriting was extraordinary and is easy to read. I’ve seen letters that Ben Clarke wrote, and trust me, each letter was signed by Ben “Clarke” and the handwriting is consistent. As stated every book that I have seen, including Custer and the Cheyenne, has misspelled his last name. Talk about an uphill fight to correct the spelling of a man’s name. Shameful.

A tip

My opinion of and respect for George Hyde and his interest and knowledge of the Indian wars is large. Grinnell could not have hired a better writer-editor. What I saw blew me away. If someone wants to write about the Grinnell-Hyde relationship and throw in George Bent, the mixed-blood Cheyenne who moved between the races and who worked with both Hyde and Grinnell, you might have one hell of a story to tell. A story that focuses on the three men during the time that they tried to document Cheyenne history, culture, and lifeway.

BTW, Grinnell did not limit his research to the Cheyennes. He also spent a lot of time meeting, befriending, and interviewing Pawnees that lived through the tumultuous times dating from at least 1830 and through the reservation years. There were other tribes that he also had an interest in (the Blackfeet, Sioux, Apaches to name three), but to what extent I currently don’t know.

“Success or Failure?”

I had announced this upcoming blog with the words: “Success or Failure?” Bad boy Kraft for there is no success or failure research—all is successful. Reason: If I find something, great! If I don’t, I now know that where I’m searching is a dead end.

If you are researching Cheyennes, do yourself favor and take a long-hard look at the George Bird Grinnell Papers.

The Man Who Walks With His Toes Pointed Out … 

I used the word “Cheyenne” in the title of Custer and the Cheyenne as opposed to the proper word usage of “Cheyennes” as I’m not talking about a group of people but a single person. The title points to one person, a Cheyenne person.

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This Upton and Sons, Publishers’ book cover is here as it makes this article publicity for the book (published in 1995 and still in print), which in turn makes the next image, which is from the book also publicity. You’ll see the importance of this below.

From 1849 until his death in 1876 he was the keeper of the Cheyenne Medicine (or Sacred) Arrows. As such, he was probably the most powerful person on the central and southern plains, and when he traveled to the north, there too. He had been a warrior, but now he was a chief, a mystic, and a man of peace. The arrows had been given to The People (the Tsistsistas, or as most of you know them, the Cheyennes), and they gave the Tsistsistas power over the hunt and their enemies in war. Ma?heo?o, their one God, their All Father, using the Tsistsistas’ profit Sweet Medicine, provided a set of rules for the arrows that must always be followed at all times. Otherwise a darkness would cover The People and tragedy would haunt them.

What I have just told you is an absolute key for the Sand Creek book working. And let me tell you this is no small task to pull off.

In three of my previous books the keeper of the arrows has played an important part. In the Custer book he is that lone Cheyenne of the title. You can bet that he’ll again play a role in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway.

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I had seen a lot of Mr. Reedstrom’s illustrations over the years and I contacted him about this and other images for Custer and the Cheyenne. He was gracious and allowed me to use the requested images, and in this instance he allowed me to change the title of his artwork. I will forever be grateful to him for in 1995 and continuing to this day I have zero photos of Stone Forehead. If you know of any, please contact me. (BTW, magazine and book publishers I designed this book along with over 250 books and countless newsletters and ad material over the years.)

He was known as Stone Forehead or Rock Forehead or the Man Who Walks With His Toes Pointed Out. He was also known as Hohonai´viuhk´tanuh, Nan-ne-sa-tah, Nan-ne-sat-tah, and by the white man Medicine Arrow or Medicine Arrows (and by the way, I have found yet another Tsistsistas’ name for him).

One online review ripped the Wynkoop book for specifically listing Stone Forehead’s various names. That was this reviewer’s major peeve: Why waste paper space listing crap that no one gives a shit about (there goes my “GP” rating; I’m back up to “R.”). I’ll tell you why … I’ll tell you why. Recently a book dealing with the Cheyennes talks about two different people: Stone Forehead and Rock Forehead. The author had no clue that he was writing about the same person. DUH????

I need not write any more about this, other than to say, “Hey, online reviewer sharpen your teeth, for my next Indian wars book will give you plenty to bitch about.” I can see his words now: “This tragedy of a writer refuses to learn. Instead of reducing the number of names for a stupid Indian, he has increased them. Un-f—ing believable!”

And the search goes on …

Liza and Manola pulled what I needed to see. They figured out ways to keep me working when they realized that I didn’t take lunch but simply sat at a table outside the Braun and continued to work. Actually on an online interview that is long overdue, is long-winded, and at the moment unsatisfactory. Worse, it isn’t close to being completed. At the moment I’m working at cutting and cutting and cutting. I owe a letter to Wild West, as well as an article on Geronimo, and let’s not forget the malpractice novel, Sand Creek, or everything that must be  in place by September for a date with U.S. immigration (that might determine my continued residence in the U.S.).

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lk spent prime time with Rick West at the two-day event without really knowing much of his background (dummy me didn’t know who he was other than he played a prime role the creation of the Museum of the American Indian in Washington D.C.). I discovered an open, kind, and interested person. A good listener and someone I enjoyed getting to know, if only slightly. In case you don’t know, he is a full-blooded Southern Cheyenne peace chief. Also, in case you don’t know, he is president and CEO of the Autry National Center. I believe he assumed this position in December 2012. Earlier that year I had parted company with the technical world and didn’t want to approach him for fear that it might look like I was hustling him for a job. In 2011 I had approached him on a five-part documentary that would have been costly on Wynkoop and the Cheyennes. He wasn’t interested, even though I had key people lined up (including Indian wars historian Jerry Greene and Cheyenne Chief Gordon Yellowman; both spoke at the symposium).

Yes, I juggle projects. I must, for most projects take years to complete and no writer can disappear from the public for that long and expect his readers to return. That means articles must be written, talks (and this is now a sorry subject, and one from which I’ll not bend—when I go on the road I will receive my full salary and all expenses, as I had as recently as September 2012, or no talk). Look on the bright side; I have more time to write.

The days are busy, but on the plus side they keep me out of trouble.

Upcoming blogs

  • The song remembers when
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers

— Louis Kraft

Sand Creek Massacre, The Discovery, Errol & Olivia and Ned Wynkoop Updates

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014

Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog

As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway

The Sand Creek manuscript differs from my previous nonfiction work in that it features multiple leading players as opposed to one or two.

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lk in costume as Billy the Kid (sans the revolver and gun belt). A 1969 publicity photo taken by best pal Dennis Riley, who was then a photographer’s mate in the U.S. Navy. This photo session was the first of many over the years. Dennis and I became close during our high school years and this lasted through my four years of college, his college and military service, and long after. Although we don’t see each other often now, it is always like yesterday. We were constantly in trouble but he was always there for me and me for him. (photo © Louis Kraft 1969)

This includes my written plays in which I have performed. They date back to 1969 with Lew and Billy (Billy the Kid’s meeting with New Mexico Territorial Governor Lew Wallace); 1982’s The Fencing Lesson (a man and a woman cross sabers with deadly intent in a battle of the sexes); the Wynkoop one-man plays that have played in four states, and 2009’s Cheyenne Blood, which again featured two characters—Ned Wynkoop and the Cheyenne woman Mo-nahs-e-tah, who survived bloody attacks on Cheyenne villages (Sand Creek, 1864; and Washita, 1868). This is the phonetic spelling of her name.

Yes, Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway is going to be a stretch.

How do I bring the leading players to life? How do I mix and connect the leading players’ story lines? And how do I create text that flows while remaining true to the facts and not putting the readers to sleep?

These are big questions, and they live with me every day.

And of course there are welcome interruptions

In 2001 Fray Angélico Chávez History Library (part of the New Mexico History Museum, Santa Fe) curator Tomas Jaehn (pronounced “Yen”) began the process to create “The Louis Kraft Collection.” A number of years later a former girlfriend wanted to know why Tomas was interested in my work and associated documentation? I told her I didn’t know. “Didn’t you ask?” “No.” “Why not?” I told her that I had been associated with the library since the 1980s, Tomas was interested in my work and letters, and that was good enough for me.

Good enough for me, but not for her.

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I met Tomas Jaehn shortly after he replaced Orlando Romero at the New Mexico History Museum. Eventually the archival portion of the museum would be renamed the Chávez History Library. We hit it off immediately. There’s really nothing more to say here other than I’m lucky to know my good friend.

In 2006 I did a 10-day road trip to the Chávez to make an archive delivery and near the end of the trip talk about “Gatewood’s Administration of the White Mountain Indian Reservation” (during the 1880s Lt. Charles Gatewood, 6th U.S. Cavalry, commanded a troop of Apache scouts and administered the Apache reservation headquartered at Fort Apache, Arizona Territory). The former girlfriend flew to Albuquerque on July 2 and spent a few days in Santa Fe before flying home on July 5. She met Tomas when I made the delivery on the third.

I knew what was coming. “Why him?” she asked Tomas when he gave her a tour of where and how the collections were preserved. She insisted upon seeing the LK Collection. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but knew something would. As it turned out Tomas liked my body of work. More important he felt that since a good portion of my work dealt with Gatewood and the Apache wars and Ned Wynkoop and the Cheyennes that it was ideal for the Chávez, which houses the most complete Edward W. Wynkoop Collection.

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lk in front of the original entry to the NM History Museum (4jul2006) during the trip to Santa Fe to make a delivery to the archive. This entry still exists but is no longer used to enter the Fray Angélico Chávez History Library. Times have changed, and I think for the better. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

Before and since the creation of the archive Tomas has done everything to aid my writing and speaking efforts, as well as help me obtain documents and primary source images. Over the years he and his family have become good friends.

This month Tomas alerted me of a primary source Sand Creek battle participant document that the Chávez is considering purchasing from a private collection. I reviewed it for Tomas. During the course of our conversations he said I could use this to-date unused view of events in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway (if the library buys the document; and if not, he thought he could convince the document owner to allow me to use it). Fingers are crossed, as there is information worth sharing. I should know the final outcome soon. Unfortunately I can’t share any details at this time.

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George Bird Grinnell completed a massive amount of research over his life documenting American Indians (mostly Cheyennes and Pawnees, but other tribes also). His papers are at the Braun Research Library, Autry National Center, Los Angeles, California. The Grinnell Papers take 77 pages to list the folders and diaries. I have 10 days booked at the Braun in the future and have submitted the first round of documents that I must read. Twenty-seven folders and diaries, and this is just the beginning of what I will view before completing my Grinnell research for the Sand Creek manuscript. Earlier I had mined the Grinnell Papers for Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek, but that research centered on Cheyennes that played roles in Wynkoop’s life. I have a fair amount of Grinnell’s writing in-house, but from past experience his research notes are where the gold will be found.

A glimpse into the LK creative world

Add my ongoing high wire act while juggling a life that is so crowded that at times it feels as if I’m being yanked in four directions at the same time.

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Pailin at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood, Ca., on 15may14 for a screening of Errol Flynn’s last A-film (and his next to last film), the 1958 release of director John Huston’s The Roots of Heaven. I caught a great shot of her here for I was able to eliminate the crowd (the screening was co-sponsored by the French Consulate in LA). We joined my great friend and Flynn expert/writer Robert Florczak (unfortunately his gorgeous wife and my good friend Annette couldn’t join us due to work commitments), and Nam & Greg Maradei (I hate to repeat myself, but if not for Nam, I would have never met Pailin). Pailin is very aware of my Flynn/de Havilland writing, and this wasn’t my choice for her first complete Flynn film (she had caught the tail end of Adventures of Don Juan and San Antonio when she arrived home from work earlier than expected (and was glued to the TV screen), for I had been carefully plotting her initial introduction to Mr. Flynn’s screen persona. That said I couldn’t refuse seeing Roots on the big screen. At this time Pailin prefers adventures (and is certainly drawn to the American West), but the film has scope and didn’t bore her. BTW, I study film five nights a week. Reason: A writer can learn a lot about plot, character, and dialogue viewing good films. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Pailin’s application for a Green Card has been filed and moves forward. This means that I have begun preparing an extensive photo album that shows that she and I are who we claim. At the same time she and I need to prepare carefully for our immigration interviews.

Let’s not forget my writing projects: The Discovery, Errol & Olivia, Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, and that Geronimo article I owe Greg Lalire at Wild West. It now has firm deadline and publication dates. (I will make the deadline if it kills me; unless he takes aim at me first.) In addition to the article I need to complete a portrait of Geronimo that I promised. To date I’ve created two of Mr. G, but don’t like either. This means back to the drawing board. The Flynn projects (E&O + the second book on EF) are major pieces in my life. They must be completed and published. Like Wynkoop, Charlie Gatewood, and the Indians and their lives, Mr. Flynn has influenced my life. Actually EF, his film roles and life, have played a major role in my life. Certainly he opened the world of the Indian wars and racism to me.

As the subtitle of my website reads, “Follow the winding trail of a writer as he walks a solitary road …” implies I have spent a lot of time alone. At the same time I’ve never been lonely. Boy, talk about two sentences that state opposites. My friends are good and they are always with me even though most don’t live nearby.

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lk at the 2012 Western Heritage Wrangler Awards in OK City. An article of mine, “When Wynkoop was Sheriff,” won a Wrangler. A cool and fun three-day event. (photo © Ownbey Photography 2012)

For me writing is a fight and a struggle. This is a constant, and it is every day. If it weren’t a fight and a struggle why bother? Creativity and finding what is hopefully close to truth doesn’t happen with reading a few facts and then typing a few paragraphs. That’s just the beginning. What has been read may be wrong, which in turn makes my paragraphs wrong. The creativity results from years of not buying into “the easy” or worse “the set premise that must be confirmed at all costs,” but by maintaining an open mind and allowing the discovery of truth and often this isn’t what I expected to find. And this must dictate the story line. Writing, and I don’t care if it in nonfiction, fiction, or whatever, needs a number pieces to work together seamlessly. We’re talking facts, hard cold facts combined with prose that propels the story and doesn’t put the reader to sleep. Sometimes I’ll spend hours on a single paragraph, and if not satisfied more hours. Merging the facts with writing style takes me years to complete, and knowing this has made it mandatory for me to buy into my subjects 100 percent before I write a single word of the manuscript. If I don’t buy into my projects 100 percent, I would walk away from them long before they reached completion.

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The Santa Barbara, Ca., art was created in 1977 for my then theatrical manager, Richard Steel Reed. This was a commissioned work (for $300.00), but eventually the art would return to me. The sketch of Patric Spann, was one of many I created for Infonet in the late 1990s when I served as editor-in-chief, art director, designer, staff writer, and photographer for an engineering newsletter that I pitched and created, and which was distributed to Infonet’s offices in 68 countries. A cool job that I had one hell of a lot of fun doing (art © Louis Kraft 1977 & drawing © Louis Kraft 1997)

Over the years I have learned that there are additional ways to add value to the story and bring in extra cash. Money is a necessity. In the past I lived in a world that handed me bags of greenbacks. This allowed me to do whatever I pleased whenever I pleased. Extended research trips with stays in first-class hotels (when available) were the norm.

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These images represent my wanderlust without a money care. The top image is of me at the helm on the half deck of the pirate Francis Drake’s Golden Hinde II, a replica of the vessel he circumnavigated the globe in between 1577-1580. Originally the helm had a whipstaff; the wheel didn’t exist in Drake’s day. I’ve been aboard this vessel three times (its maiden voyage to San Francisco, Ca., in 1976, it’s voyage to Oxnard, Ca., in 1985, and in London, England, in 2009). I’m one with the sea and hope that I will live long enough to write about Drake. The black & white image was shot by my great friend George Carmichael, whom I met at UCLA during the early 1980s. Initially George and I butted horns in a fiction class, a clash that resulted in a 30 year friendship. George died at the age of 90 on April 2, 2014. I’m still struggling with his passing, as he was one of the major players in my life. (photos © Louis Kraft 2001 & 2009)

Mr. Shakespeare aptly said in his soliloquy about the phases of life:

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players … “

… and I have entered one of the later stages of life. This point of my life has changed my entire outlook and has made my focus not on money but on what is important to me.

I don’t write for companies anymore. I only write for me and the companies that contract my freelance writing. The select few publishing companies that I choose to write for will continue to pay me as long as I write cutting-edge prose that is hopefully close to truth, prose that moves and doesn’t put their readers to sleep, and of course don’t piss them off too much. As long as I can do this, my publishers (and they are top notch) will continue to print my words.

They may cringe at my opinions, and at some of my blogs (when they read them), and even worse when I commit heresy and submit my attempts at art and question designed layout that is considerably less than sparkling (I’m being kind here). Although rough around the edges (and I’m being kind to myself here), my art (no matter how juvenile or simplistic, or worse) has brought in money dating back to 1976. … In 1996, and while still an employee of the first software company that I wrote for, Infonet (now British Telecom Infonet), I watched the documentation department disappear (similar to the dreadful play, and worse films, Ten Little Indians). But as I wasn’t ready to become history I reinvented myself and created a web-based system that documented one of Infonet’s major tools for in-house consumption. At the same time I pitched a newsletter for Research & Development that would be distributed worldwide with me as editor-in-chief, art director and designer, staff writer (I already had design and newsletter experience in a hands-on and management capacity), photographer, and artist. This wasn’t ego-based, rather it was simply keeping me employed and earning the almighty buck. More important, I learned to go after what I wanted (or in this case what I needed). It bought me a couple of years, good years, until I decided to move over to the space industry.

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This image is a work in progress. It displays Cheyenne warriors talking before setting out to hunt. Although I may use it in a publication someday, I am almost 100 percent certain that it won’t see print in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. But then again, who knows? (art © Louis Kraft 2014)

This leads to creating art for publication, which can lead to multiple printings in various formats (and extra cash). Of course there is a downside. Sometimes snide critics frown upon a writer using art that he created in his written works. I guess they support the system of using often used images (which is unfortunately the case) one more time as opposed to adding something new to a publication. I’m big on collages too, for collages count as one image in book or magazine form. More important, they can visually support the text and add value to the printed work. Another no-no? Probably, but I’ve moved beyond nitpicks that are based upon a long in-place vision on how nonfiction should be presented.

Currently I’m considering using art for illustrating Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. When I restored and fine-tuned (with documented permission from the various archives) all the images and photos for my submission to OU Press for Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek, my friend and editor Chuck Rankin told me that I didn’t need to do this. Moreover, he said that he wanted his writers to write. I ignored him. If he reads this blog I hope he’s sitting. That said, Chuck, at the moment the above is just a consideration for the image delivery. Will it happen? Probably not. Of course I’m a firm believer in never saying “never.”

When it comes to writing progress is king

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Celebrating Olivia de Havilland’s 93rd birthday in her Paris garden on July 3, 2009 (her BD is on July 1). She is a pure joy to know: Bright, funny, sexy, political, and oh-so caring. In this image she is looking at her birthday card. Two of her gifts are on the table (others included flowers, photos, and various writing). As every time I’ve been with her, this day and evening did not disappoint. (photo © Louis Kraft 2009)

Errol & Olivia
At the moment Errol & Olivia lags behind. For those of you interested in this book on Ms. Livvie and Errol, don’t worry. It doesn’t matter how far I may fall behind in word count, for whenever I write the fingers dance over the keys. This book has two goals: Bring Mr. Flynn and Ms. de Havilland to life while detailing their life and times between 1935 and 1941. The manuscript includes a prologue and an extensive epilogue. I am attempting a biographical approach that I’ve never seen before. Most of the writing about Flynn and de Havilland in book form (fully 60 percent) is repeated cliché, by that I mean that often the tomes merely repeat what has already been written. Truths and errors, and sometimes out-and-out lies, are repeated over and over again. Flynn and de Havilland were not, as unscrupulous writers have proclaimed, who you think they were (or in OdeH’s case, as she is). This book, and the following book on EF, will be the best two books I write. Patience is the key.

The Discovery
As the readers of my blogs know, I have partnered with Robert S. Goodman, MD, to produce a malpractice novel. The Discovery is Bob’s story idea and Bob has done a lot of work on the plot, including creating first class medical and legal detail. My job is to wordsmith and bring the characters and plot to life.

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Robert S. Goodman, MD, in his office on 30may2014. Bob & I had a good review/update meeting on May 28. We spoke on the phone on the 29th and per my request he was answering questions I had and reviewing the manuscript. I told I wanted additional photos of him and we agreed on the following day. On the 30th he had his review and answers ready for me. I have never partnered before, and I can’t tell you how happy that I have with Bob for I think that between us we can create a good novel. (photo © Robert S. Goodman & Louis Kraft 2014)

To do this I’m approaching it as if it were a thriller. That means that I must make the pages turn and hopefully prevent our readers from going to bed at night. For this type of writing to work, really work, and capture a reader’s imagination it must have a voice. To do this I’m using an approach I’ve never done before: I’m writing as I read and mark-up Bob’s text. Before each time I meet with Bob to discuss status, I read my current draft and edit and rewrite it. The early chapters have been rewritten twice and the latter chapters once to date. This process will continue as I work my way through Bob’s manuscript. On May 28 Bob and I met for the second time to discuss the manuscript’s current status and to ensure that we are in agreement on how I’m proceeding and re-imagining his characters and plot. Currently my draft of The Discovery is 236 pages, and there’s still a long ways to go before I have a completed first draft. But trust me for my goal is doable and will happen.

Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway
As stated above work is ongoing on Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, and the month of May has seen the best research and writing to date.

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OU Press Editor-in-Chief Chuck Rankin at the 2012 Western Heritage Wrangler awards in Oklahoma City. Chuck has always been there for me, and over the years he has had the patience to listen to me. He has taken the time to discuss matters in which we don’t agree and has given me the room to experiment and grow. Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek was the runner up this year. (photo © Ownbey Photography 2012)

And, like The Discovery, the story is character-driven, and as such I’m approaching the writing as much as possible as if the story is a thriller. Obviously the writing can’t be totally that of a thriller, but the goal is again to not put the readers to sleep. Although this has been in place for a while a good portion of the text doesn’t reflect this yet. The reason is simple. Facts must be in place and hopefully as close as possible to what actually happened. If facts must be deleted or fixed there is no point in rewriting them until they are as close to truth as I can make them.

Fingers are crossed that the upcoming time spent digging through the George Bird Grinnell Papers at the Braun Research Library will prove to be a goldmine for my Cheyenne research.

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I hope the above provides an update to my writing progress and provides at least a hint of my creative world. …  There is only one constant in my life and that is Pailin. She is my life, and as a good friend of mine named Vee in Massachusetts said, “Pailin is your muse.” She is, and as long as I do everything possible to ensure that our relationship thrives and grows my writing will continue to thrive in its “golden age.” Reality? I don’t know. Probable? Bet on it.

A publicity blurb

The August 2014 Wild West magazine will reach newsstands in early June.

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People often ask if I win all my battles with editors and art directors. The answer is, “No, I don’t.” I lost a big battle with the Wynkoop art, for the art director insisted that it could spread over two pages without affecting or destroying the reason why I created the painting. I fought to keep my art on one page but lost. I had the option to kill the article; yes, the anger directed at me was strong and hateful (and I had faced it in the past) but I didn’t want to do this and luckily production moved forward. I had given into what I knew would ruin the image I created, and unfortunately my previous 20+ years of design work proved correct. Egotistic incompetency would never survive in the software world (too much money is involved; for example, the cost of my documentation suite in the space world was $100 Gs). Wynkoop’s face is so close to the spine of the magazine that the curled brim of his hat is lost which destroys the effect of his dramatic gaze toward the Indian battle line. That’s life. There’s a big lesson here for me and believe me I will never forget it: The essence of the work is always more important than the money it can earn. Always. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

Egotism aside, “Wynkoop’s Gamble to End War” is perhaps the best magazine article I’ve written. I pitched it to Greg Lalire in 2012, and he later pitched me on two short pieces for the August issue. I agreed as long as I could write what I wanted. “Must See, Must Read” is usually a plot summary of five films and five books. Greg agreed that I could deal with what the films and books meant to me. The other is ‘Wild West’s Top 10 List.” Usually this list is one column and less that a full top to bottom page. I counter pitched why Wynkoop was a major player during the 1860s Cheyenne wars, and he agreed to the idea. You know by now that I’m wordy. It’s two columns top to bottom of page and Greg needed to point to the Wynkoop/Gamble article to make it fit.

Upcoming blogs

  • Cheyenne research at the Braun Research Library: Success or failure?
  • The song remembers when
  • Unscrupulous writer-historians and how they dupe their readers

— Louis Kraft

Cheyenne High-back Wolf, Errol Flynn, Pailin, The Discovery + a Greg Lalire bonus

 Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Cheyennes have been coming to life every morning for over a week.

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Greg Lalire has been a good friend of mine since the dawn of time. He’s charming, understanding, and a good fellow to know (not to mention that he is a great editor). Jennifer Berry of the Weider History staff took this photo. I like that Greg chose to display the Wild West cover with Red Cloud. (photo © Greg Lalire 2014)

I don’t have writers’ block. I never have writers block; it’s just a matter of finding the time and regulating it accordingly.

I’m certain good pal and great editor at Wild West Greg Lalire might have a few words to say about this (but I’m not going ask him to share). Probably something like, “Hey Kraft, get the lead out and do some real work, work that’s actually usable in a Weider History Group publication.” Everything I promise Greg (well almost everything) is a dollar short and I hate to say it but sometimes years late. At best I’m the little boy who cried “wolf” one time too many.

My great friend Glen Williams, upon seeing Greg’s (I assume) dust jacket portrait for Captured: From the Frontier Diary of Infant Danny Duly, said he looks like a gentleman. Greg does and is. He is a class act over and over again and I count myself lucky to know him.

For more on Mr. Lalire and his immediate future see below.

“Better late than never”

As Don Juan de Maraña once said (actually this is what Errol Flynn as Don Juan once said in Adventures of Don Juan, 1948): “You know what they say, ‘Better late then never.'” Of course Mr. Flynn’s Juan had just been caught again. But this time he was innocent and tried to protect the offending lady and avoid a duel.

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Errol Flynn as Juan de Maraña in the final duel (Adventures of Don Juan, 1948).

Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself. If you haven’t seen Flynn’s Don Juan, do yourself a favor and see it. I guarantee that it will be a very enjoyable two+ hours of your life.

Errol Flynn? Look at the above Don Juan image—that’s Flynn. Who was Flynn? He was a combination of a graceful athlete and a natural actor. He lived his characters long before Monty Clift, Jimmy Dean, and Marlon Brando claimed the limelight in the 1950s. Of course Flynn got pounded for this.

Again, look at the Flynn Don Juan image above. We’re talking sword fighting ladies and gents, and it isn’t easy to do. It’s strenuous. Sword fighting for the stage or screen is done without protective gear (other than perhaps knee or elbow pads). One slip, one misplay, one loss of concentration can mean the loss of an eye.

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This is a late-1940s German one-sheet for The Sea Hawk.

Sword fighting for screen or stage is by the numbers just like dance. You know what your partner is doing and they know what you are doing. If you mess up and don’t back off (or your partner messes up and doesn’t back off) someone is going to get hurt and blood—real blood—will flow. I’ve been there and done this and I guarantee that the blood is red and afterwards sparks will fly.

Stage combat for the screen or theater is different than competition dueling, which is boring to watch. I had front row seats at the 1984 Olympics in LA and was bored to death. Slash, thrust, parry, lunge, point. Ten seconds. Ready. Fight. Nine seconds and another point is scored. This is not dramatic.

To create a dramatic duel on film is a multi-talented grouping of people: a director, duel choreographer, director of photography, actors, stunt men, and most important an editor to piece the filmed cuts together. Without this combination you have nothing. And with it, you have the makings for an exciting duel. This doesn’t happen often. When you see a good duel, give credit to where credit is due.

A Flynn film list

A good pal of mine, Robert Florczak, is also writing about EF. Robert is big on lists. I’m not, but here’s a short list that I can live with. Not the end of the world, but let’s say this: “Kraft, pick five Errol Flynn films; everything else will be destroyed.” I can do this. In no order the five films are:

  • Adventures of Don Juan
  • They Died With Their Boots On
  • Gentleman Jim
  • The Sea Hawk
  • Uncertain Glory

All five films were released in the 1940s. You want to see Flynn, see these films. I can name a top 10 film list and neither  Captain Blood nor The Adventures of Robin Hood make the list. I don’t buy into the cliché, Flynn, Indian wars, or anything else, and never have. For this blog I had originally drafted, “Email me if you want to know my five films that round out my top 10 Flynn films.” That’s a cheat and I don’t cheat (here or in my life). My bottom half on my top ten follow (and they never make it to the top five):

  • Virginia City
  • Dodge City
  • Objective Burma
  • Four’s a Crowd
  • The Dawn Patrol

Two are westerns, one a comedy, and two war films. Three date to the 1930s and two to the 1940s. All five are great films and again they demonstrate Flynn’s acting ability. If you want to enjoy Errol Flynn’s performances on camera see these films. You will not be disappointed.

A typical day

Let’s just call this day or any day a typical day. Actually all my days are typical except for Thursdays for that is when my lady is off (our days together are different, but, alas, do include writing). I hate to say it but sometimes it feels like I write 15 hours per day seven days a week (on average). Typically I’m up between 4:00 and 5:00 AM and writing within 15 minutes. I have three hours and sometimes four hours before Pailin gets up.

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Although this image was taken on 15feb2014, which wasn’t a typical day, it certainly represents Pailin’s mornings. She is full of energy and constantly doing something. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Depending upon when she leaves for work, we have three hours and sometimes a little more together. She makes breakfast (everything from soup that is to die for to fish to fried rice w/veggies, tofu, and perhaps chicken or fish and it isn’t fried). We enjoy each other’s company and discuss the future. I do the dishes and make the day’s juice. We then do some chores (from yard work and the place is an overgrown jungle to cleaning before she prepares to leave. The time is easy, fun, special. The parting is tender and sometimes sad for way-too-many hours pass before I see her again.

The minute she’s out the door (and sometimes before) I’m back at the computer pounding keys (some of this is business and not manuscript related). Believe it or not I plot my days and know exactly what I’ll write on any given day. My work load is set: Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, Errol & Olivia, The Discovery, the lk blog, and magazine articles (yep Greg, I do think of you and the Weider History Group). I finish the morning with that day’s manuscript. Early afternoon is on the second project (let’s say E&O if Sand Creek had been first), the current blog, and then in late afternoon-early evening medical malpractice (believe it or not I have put in 10 straight hours on the novel more than once).

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The hours that Pailin and I spend together in the mornings are special. … A decade or so ago, I relaxed on a hotel bed and switched channels on the TV until I stumbled upon former president Bill Clinton preparing a sack lunch for wife Hillary. By the time he had the lunch ready and packed she had rushed outside to start the car. He grabbed the sack lunch and darted out the front door. His timing perfect he gave her the bagged food as she backed out of the driveway and sped off to work. He waved at the vanishing car. All in fun this short film is hilarious. I wish I knew the title so that I could see it a second time. … Off the top, this is close to how I view Pailin’s exits to work. I make sure she has what she needs for the day, help her carry everything outside, and wave as she drives off. Am I the spitting image of Bill Clinton in the long-lost short as my lady heads off to work? I doubt it. But if yes, I’m good with it. (photos © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

The Sand Creek manuscript has come to life; research (and there is still a ton to do!), constant thoughts, and actual writing. BTW, just because something is on paper it doesn’t mean that it won’t be changed, corrected, or perhaps deleted in the future. As the great NY Yankees baseball catcher Yogi Berra used to say, “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.” (BTW, I’ve seen this quote many times and it changes; I’m not sure if this is the correct Berra quote.) Translation: “The writing ain’t done until it’s published (and it could still need more work).” I hate to say this, but my editors and their publishing teams cringe as my projects move into production for they don’t know what’s going to come out of my mouth, and honestly don’t want to hear it. I firmly believe that the writer should take part in every step—EVERY STEP—of the creative and production cycle.

I once knew a Custer expert who now walks with angels (at least he claimed to be a Custer expert, and I’m guessing that he now walks with angels). His ego was 10 feet wide, and he came off as a blowhard. I never read his books (a short one was perhaps 250,000 words), most of which were privately printed (and you can guess why). One day I asked him if he felt his books could be improved if he edited and wrote them a second time. “Why?” he responded. “There’re perfect.”

Really? If given the chance I would rewrite everything I’ve written for none of it is perfect.

 Walking with Tsistsistas

I walk with the Sand Creek story on a daily basis. This doesn’t mean that I write every day. That said, research and thinking are constant. The main problem that I’ve had is how to make the early chapters flow forward in an active voice. Complicating the problem is that in early Cheyenne history the people are nameless. The reason is simple: Early contact with whites often had no one present capable of translating the Tsistsistas’ (Cheyenne) language to English and back. The encounters happened and whites had a hint of who the Indians were but had no idea of individual names or the people who traded with them.

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This is Ivan Hankla, a Tsistsista (Southern Cheyenne) that I met for the first time on April 30, 2004, at Fort Larned, Ks. We hit it off immediately and I spent a good part of the Fort Larned Old Guard two or three-day convention hanging out with him and James Coverdale (Kiowa) in Ivan’s tipi or on the boardwalk or parade ground at the post. You are looking at the interior of Ivan’s tipi, which is a good view of how Cheyennes decorated their lodges. He (and James) kindly allowed me to take a number of photos of them on May 1, 2004. On the first I talked about Custer, Stone Forehead, and the Sweetwater village that Custer boldly rode into (March 1869). I asked Ivan and James if they were going to go to the talk, and they told me that they weren’t registered with the convention. I told them to forget that, that they were my guests. I invited them to my talk and they attended it in full native regalia. Ivan would be perfect to assist my Sand Creek manuscript but unfortunately he died a few years back. Our relationship, although mostly long distance, was always like yesterday when we were together. I miss him. (Photo © Louis Kraft 2004)

As Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway is dependent upon people actions (mainly Cheyenne and white) the early chapters have presented a problem to me as I’ve chosen to begin the manuscript with early Cheyenne life, development, and migration. Certainly I’ve been writing long enough that I should be capable of composing active prose. This isn’t the problem. In the past my books have all been people driven. Sand Creek will also be people driven, but this won’t begin until chapter 3, and a lot has happened to the Cheyennes by then. Let me put this another way, they had created a tribal structure and lifeway long before the white man entered their lives and began recording encounters.

Actually, the Cheyennes are a merging of two tribes: Tsistsistas (which is the word for Cheyennes) and the Suhtai. Their merging gave “The People,” which “Tsistsistas” means, two sacred objects that have played  major roles in their religion, lifeway, and future. The sacred arrows (“Maahótse,” but often written as “Mahuts,” which is a phonetic spelling of how the word is pronounced) and the buffalo hat (Is’siwun).

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Kiowa James Coverdale w/lk at the Washita Battlefield NHS on 6dec2008 (photo © Leroy Livesay 2008)

Sweet Medicine, the Tsistsista culture hero who spent time with Maheo, the Cheyennes’ one God, and received Maahótse, while Red Tassel, the Suhtai culture hero, received Is’siwun. There is no room here to discuss and explain Maahótse and Is’siwun but they play (and played) significant roles in Tsistsista lives (past and present). I must understand and present what Maahótse and Is’siwun mean to the Tsistsistas for Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway to live.

I walk with this on a daily basis. Once I have a draft that is readable dealing with this portion of Cheyenne history I hope that Cheyennes Chief Gordon Yellowman, Dr. Henrietta Mann, and Minoma Littlehawk might be open to reviewing the subject matter, along with my pal the great Indian wars and Cheyenne historian John Monnett.

Let me raise a red flag here. How often have you been confronted by a zealot who tells you that you are stumbling around in darkness if you don’t see God as they do? I’m talking about myself, Catholicism, and Christianity here. Why? What makes one person’s beliefs absolute truth when another person’s beliefs, which they may also totally believe, false? Why can’t people accept religious beliefs and other religions that differ from theirs as also valid? Why do people hate and kill in the name of religion? And worse, why do the victors in war do everything possible to destroy a conquered people’s lifeway, language, religion, and family? Are their lives and beliefs that much of a threat?

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Cheyennes Chief Gordon Yellowman (left) and Harvey Pratt at the Washita Battlefield NHS event on 11nov2011 at the overlook to precious land, sacred land. Upon my arrival before the event began Harvey made a point of meeting me, and we hit it off. On this day Harvey spoke about what it was like to be a Cheyenne warrior during the 1860s and today on foreign battlefields. I met Gordon when he and Cheyenne chief Lawrence Hart blessed the Pawnee Fork Tsistsista-Dog Man-Lakota village in Kansas in 1999. Since then we have spoken at several programs together. Upon seeing me he said, “Your name is all over the place.” The Wynkoop book had just been published. Sounded like he was sick of this, and I didn’t ask what he meant. Gordon is one of the four principle chiefs of the Cheyennes. He blessed the land this day, and delivered a moving talk on what it was like to be a Cheyenne chief at the symposium the next day. (photo © Louis Kraft 2011)

Racism dominated the 19th century and American expansion. It’s cliché now, but many Americans (during the conquest of land from sea to shining sea and right on through a good portion of the 20th century) view and viewed people of different races, colors, and cultures as less than human. Reason: The foreign cultures hadn’t developed at the pace or in the same manner as white cultures and thus were inferior. Unfortunately that view still lives, and I for one have faced it and have been accused of being a traitor to my race.

What bullshit!!!

The Cheyennes created an extraordinary culture. They had everything in place, and it was based upon strong religious and moral beliefs and laws. Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway isn’t going to be this type of book, so I’ll only be able to hint at the above. That said, by the late 1820s when Cheyennes no longer existed as faceless people, the manuscript becomes people based. People actions (Indian, white, and mixed-blood) will dominate the flow of the manuscript.

High-back Wolf is first to walk out of the mists of obscurity

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George Catlin painted High-back Wolf about 1832. The little I know about High-backed Wolf has grabbed my interest, and as he is, at the moment, the first major Cheyenne in the Sand Creek book I want to make him as prominent as possible.

Simply put, High-back Wolf (and he had numerous names including Né-hee-ó-ee-wóo-tis, Wolf on the Hill, and High-backed Wolf) stepped out of the dark mist of obscurity and became the first Cheyenne chief to register big time with whites. Until the 1820s the handful of Cheyenne-white contact had no one present that could translate words. This changed when he not only met with whites, but impressed them. More important, translators matched his actions with his name. Not many years later artist George Catlin painted portraits of him and his wife. Sadly High-back Wolf exited the big picture soon after Catlin captured his image for all time. Enter a second High-backed Wolf, but he, too, died early. Was he related to the first High-back Wolf? His brother? I don’t know, but I will find out.

High-back Wolf had a wife, and someone actually took the time to learn it. George Catlin also painted her in 1832. At the moment I don’t know the ages of High-back Wolf or She Who Bathes Her Knees in 1832 but they don’t look old. I wonder if I’ll be able to learn anything about her other than she was his wife. Fingers are crossed.

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George Catlin painted She Who Bathes Her Knees portrait in 1832.

Something else has caught my interest. One reference to High-back Wolf questioned if he sired Black Kettle. Whoa! I don’t know, but at the moment I doubt it. Reason: We’re cutting it too close on what I consider the range of Black Kettle’s birth years. Need to dig in my Grinnell notes, for I certainly searched for Black Kettle when researching Wynkoop Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek. However, High-back Wolf’s name doesn’t ring a bell, although I believe that I had seen a father for Make-tava-tah (as Wynkoop called Black Kettle) listed but didn’t use it in the Wynkoop book. If not, hopefully my upcoming visit to the Braun History Library of the Southwest Museum (Autry National Center) will provide an answer. The archive houses a wealth of information that I have not yet seen. High-back Wolf has become a priority. Need to check, but think I’ve got somewhere between 9 and 11 days of appointments set.

Good times are coming for I’ll be back in my element doing research. There is nothing better than mining primary documentation and then trying to figure out what happened and who did what. Francis Drake, John Ward (an Englishman who became a Tunisian pirate), High-back Wolf, Kit Carson, Black Kettle, Tall Bull, Geronimo, Ned Wynkoop, George Bent, Charles Gatewood, Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, lk. I’ve listed people whose lives have reached across over five centuries. And these lives are linked, at least in my brain.

My hope is that I can learn enough about High-back Wolf and write enough about him to justify using the magnificent Catlin portrait of him in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. Time will tell.

The Discovery

I have 175 pages in this medical malpractice novel and progress on The Discovery has been decent. But sometimes I’m ripping out my hair and banging my head against a wall. I’ve partnered on the novel. This includes edit, fix, rewrite (read totally rewrite), fix some more, edit more, research and fix (that’s right, it’s a period piece and the 101 freeway in LA didn’t exist in 1952, and on and on and or with technical errors), write-write-write, and get the book published. It will happen.

These are harsh words and they aren’t meant to be, for
Dr. Robert Goodman has done a masterful job of bringing
a unique form of medical malpractice to life. He’s not a trained writer
and so he falls into a swamp 
of pitfalls that exist to trap writers.

You should see my markups on my drafts and the verbal
and written abuse I sling at my words.

Luckily my initial training in writing had been writing dialogue, and there is so much you can do with dialogue to move a plot forward. Let me say this in another way. Telling is not good in fiction or nonfiction. Writers must constantly strive to move their plots forward in an active manner. Dialogue, if used properly, it is a great way to move a plot forward (it is also a great way to develop and show character).

For me writing began a lifetime ago on that flatland that surrounds the Texas college town of Lubbock. I spent a summer working there in 1976. After work (let’s say 11:00 PM or thereabouts) I, other actors, and sometimes waitresses, waiters, and college theater groupies went out to restaurants, dance clubs, and clubs with entertainment. Lubbock thrived. One night a country singer told his audience: “Lubbock is the only place on earth where you can be up to your ass in mud and still get sand in your eye.” A true statement. Later that evening an enraged boyfriend stepped onto the stage and physically threatened the singer as his eyes had lingered on his girlfriend once too often. Luckily nothing happened. … Have you ever performed on stage? Do you know what the lights do to your eyes? You can’t see anything other than perhaps the first row or two, and then only if it is an intimate venue.

Lubbock, Texas, turned me into a writer

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Texas offered leading roles in class productions. It also offered an introduction to life that I hadn’t realized existed. Texas proved to be a good learning experience over the years. (photo © Louis Kraft 1976)

It goes something like this (and this is the short version).

Hell hath no fury like a woman [fill in the blank(s)], and this was certainly true during that 1976 summer I spent in Texas. She was a petite blonde actress in the Theater Department of Texas Tech in Lubbock and she had her eyes on me (I have no images of this lady). Parties at the Hayloft Dinner Theater and elsewhere and I was a fish waiting to be hooked. One problem, this lady wasn’t for me. Racial prejudice that made the racial prejudice I had seen in Texas and Oklahoma in 1970 look like child’s play, a major drug bust that I viewed, in-college theater war, other nasty events, and of course the lady ignored made TV soap operas of the day seem lightweight.

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The play was Eat Your Heart Out, and it was the 2nd play of my visit to Texas that summer. It dealt with an actor struggling to survive in LA. Talk about type casting. Certainly sex entered the picture and the director did everything he could to remove my clothes, and that included swinging imaginary swords. The actress in this scene is Robin LaValley. (photo © Louis Kraft 1976)

Nevertheless I had become a marked man. Bottom line: I was lucky to get out of Texas with my scalp in place. After returning home to LA I wrote a screenplay about what I had seen. My then theatrical agency had a literary branch and I submitted the script. Agent Ed Menerth called and said, “This is terrible, but let’s talk.” We did and for the next seven years he represented my screenplays. Race became one of the key themes throughout the dozen or more scripts I wrote including a Persian woman surviving in Los Angeles at the time of the fall of the Shah of Iran, the Englishman turned Barbary pirate John Ward in Tunis, a German U-boat commander’s love for a Jewish woman during WWII, and so on). Menerth reviewed and marked the copy up and I rewrote and rewrote until the scripts became sellable. Bob Sabaroff, one of the key players in the Michael Parks’ Then Came Bronson TV series of 1969-70, also liked the scripts and he, too, reviewed and marked up and I again and again rewrote. It was a great training ground and I learned. This led to selling magazine articles, talks, books, and writing for the software industry. Hell I even sold biographical sketches to an encyclopedia.

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lk in Eat Your Heart Out. I actually played this character twice (the second in LA in 1977). I liked playing Charley. The director who came from LA (as did the leading four actors in each play) focused on the sexual image and pushed it as far as he could. Looking back I have no problem with his view of the play. (photo © Louis Kraft 1976)

Over the years I have traveled a long way from the unforgettable racism that I had witnessed up close and center in Texas twice and elsewhere including SoCal. It had been seared into my very being. I realized that, even though I had seen racism from the white POV while in school and had backed off from it without making a stand, that now this was not and could never again be acceptable in my life. Some of this you have perhaps seen in earlier blogs, and for this I apologize. However, it is important to me. I have time and again been called a racist as some of the women in my life have not been white. Yes, believe it or not, some whites don’t like this and have let me know. Again, forgive me for repeating myself, but this hurts for these accusations have come from people I’ve considered friends and from people I love or have loved. This accusation is asinine and makes me ill. Enough said about racism for this blog.

Sorry about the lengthy sidetrack, but for me the timing hit the mark.

Introducing Robert Goodman, MD

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Bob Goodman at home. Bob has a great house, and he is in a room that is a handful of steps below the entry to his house. This room opens to his swimming pool and has a very livable bar. Bob is sitting at a table that we use when we talk business. When I pulled out my camera he asked: “What are you doing?” “I’m going to take a picture of you.” He agreed, while making it clear he wanted me to shoot a good portrait of him at his office. I agreed, and this will happen soon. … I can’t say enough good things about Bob, other than say I wish you also knew him. (photo © Louis Kraft 2014)

Bob has played a major part in my life for some 25 years as my heart specialist, internist, and GP. Actually if it weren’t for him over a decade ago I’d be long dancing with angels. We’ve enjoyed knowing each other over the years, and a few years back I provided him with editorial help on his writing (various projects).

One, a medical malpractice novel had an exceptional story line. In November 2013 Bob asked me to partner with him. I have. Bob’s subject matter is extraordinary, and because of this we have agreed not to share it until pre-publication publicity begins. My apologies, but this is just how it is. That said, I will be able to talk about manuscript progression and I will.

All I can say at this point in time is that the story is character driven and although The Discovery is fictional the facts are based upon reality. If Bob and I complete our work properly we will deliver a story that captures our readers’ interest and will not let go until the last page.

A tall order but we’re working hard to make this happen.

Greg Lalire and Captured

I’ve hinted that Greg Lalire and I are friends. We are. Over what seems like a lifetime he has done everything possible to get my words in print, and has done everything to publicize a writer named lk. I’m forever grateful. But this section isn’t based upon Greg’s kindness to me, it’s based upon me knowing him, a special person even though our relationship is mostly long distance.

capturedFront_wsFive Star Publishing releases Greg’s novel, Captured: From the Frontier Diary of Infant Danny Duly, in July 2014. The June 2014 Wild West magazine features a full-page ad next to the table of contents. A perfect placement and appealing layout by the Weider History Group design staff. To scan the ad would have required mangling the magazine or pulling it apart and I didn’t want to do that. Captured features historical characters Chief Red Cloud, Col. Henry Carrington, and Capt. William Fetterman. The ad’s blurb (I assume from the dust jacket flap) states:

“Libbie Duly, pregnant and with her husband confined to the local insane asylum, leaves Chicago in 1866 for booming Virginia City, Montana Territory. On the Oregon Trail she gives birth to the remarkable Danny Duly, who already began narrating this emigrant tale from the womb. Danny has the rare ability to see with his mind’s eye and record events he hopes to later put down on paper. Along the dangerous Bozeman Trail, Libbie and son fall into the hands of Sioux warrior Wolf Who Don’t Dance, and the emigrant story becomes a captivating captivity narrative.”

Captured will be published on July 16, 2014. It is currently available for pre-order on amazon.com with a price guarantee.

Am looking forward to reading it Greg, and so is my good pal Glen Williams (to whom I shared your Captured publicity).


Weider History Group is a class company, and Eric W. has done an extraordinary job of obtaining and retaining class editorial and design staff. This is an understatement. Eric, you and everyone you designate to make hiring decisions know what you are doing. Your staff from A to Z with “Lalire” being first in the list is extraordinary. My hope is that your entire selection of historical publications expand and grow in ways that guarantee their continued existence throughout my, Greg’s, and your lifetimes. You and your entire staff produce product that needs to live forever.

I’m honored to play a small role in Weider History Group’s product line.

— Louis Kraft

Classy lady Patrice Wymore Flynn dies + a Sand Creek “thank you”

 Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Other than a Sand Creek “thank you,” this blog isn’t as originally drafted. Everything else found its way to the cutting room floor (but hopefully some of it will appear in a future blog).

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Patrice Wymore and Errol Flynn met when they worked on Rocky Mountain, which was shot on location in New Mexico. This color image is a publicity photo that had nothing to do with the plot of the film. (lk collection)

The changes weren’t planned, but good friend and Flynn expert David DeWitt contacted me early Sunday morning, March 23. The previous afternoon (March 22) Patrice Wymore Flynn, a classy lady, died at her home outside of Port Antonio, the capital of Portland Parish, one of the 14 parishes of the Caribbean country of Jamaica.

I tend to remain quiet around death as I don’t deal with it well.

I have twice spoken from the heart about people that played huge roles in my life. Although a wreck inside I had found what it took to channel the inward anger and pain into joyful capsules of how I perceived their lives. No matter how distraught I had been behind closed doors I had the capability to push a button and for a flash in time share the essence of my love for them. The day or two or five allotted to prepare physically drained me. At the same time it allowed me to search within myself and walk with my father and then my sister in ways I had never done during their lifetimes.

I had the pleasure of meeting Pat Flynn once and I have good memories of that evening (see below).

A Sand Creek thank you + lk ramble

In January last I advertised that I needed information about mixed blood Cheyenne Charley Bent on this blog and on the Order of the Indian Wars (OIW) Facebook page. The response wasn’t great, but then I had made clear what information I already had in-house as I didn’t want anyone searching for something that I already had. Of course, as I stated in the last blog in February, Charley sporadically drifted in and out of the spotlight, and as he died way-too-young at 19 the pickings are slim.

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Upon my request Dee Cordry sent me his portrait for the blog. Dee kindly shared important information about Charley Bent. He has been researching and writing a biography the mixed-blood Cheyenne Edmund Guerrier, a person who played an important role in Cheyenne-white relations during the 1860s and for many years afterwards. (photo © Dee Cordry)

Dee Cordry saw the request for information on Charley that I had posted on the OIW FB page and responded with information (along with bonus information) that I didn’t know. Actually I had no idea it even existed and would have never searched for it. Everything Dee supplied me is first class and will appear in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway.

Dee’s contributions are already in the manuscript. Thanks Dee! I didn’t know Dee until he took the time to contact me. Regardless if you know or don’t know Dee, you need to know one thing. He is working on a biography of the mixed-blood Cheyenne Edmund Guerrier. For some reason, Mr. Guerrier walked between the races without much to do about his actions. I’m not sure why, for he certainly lived an exciting life (and from what little I know about him he led a good life). Perhaps he has for the most part been ignored because he had mixed blood and didn’t publicize his contributions to the Cheyennes and the whites. I know one thing; Ned Wynkoop thought the world of him and employed him. I’m thrilled that Dee is writing about Mr. Guerrier, for we need to know more about people who dared to move between two worlds during a time of extreme prejudice.

Edmund Guerrier played a key role during the 1860s and long afterward. I don’t know what Dee has research wise, but if you know of information that could benefit him in his effort, I hope you’ll consider contacting him. When Dee’s book is published, I’ll be first in line to buy a copy for Guerrier is a man worth knowing.

Another person, actually a good friend who constantly strives to help my writing projects, Glen Williams also contributed to my Charley Bent research. And like Dee, he also sent additional Sand Creek information that proved of great value to me. Thank you my friend. Glen not only finds information, he questions what I write and offers suggestions that always improve the work.

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Glen Williams and lk at Mission San Xavier del Bac (west of Tucson, Arizona) on February 12, 2012. This was one of Glen’s and my road trips. Unlike Dee, Glen has been a friend I’ve known for years. We met back in the dark ages when we both worked at Infonet (now British Telecom Infonet), and we hit it off. We became friends, and it didn’t hurt that Glen has Cheyenne blood and has a lot of interest in the Indian wars. As the years have passed our friendship has grown. He’s there for me at all times; health, research, writing, older brother, and everything else that matters to me. Glen’s input to my George Bent question and the Sand Creek manuscript has been massive, and for this alone I’ll forever be grateful. (art © Louis Kraft 2012)

Others contacted me and I’m grateful for your time and what you shared. Thank you.

I will in the future again raise a question about a person or two that I hope to learn more about for Sand Creek and Tragic End of a Lifeway. Nothing else is forthcoming until I decide whom I need more information about.


When I write about someone I don’t reject or ignore information that might show a dark side. Actually I want to see this, for this is what brings the person to life. No one is all good or all bad (although there are exceptions on the bad side). I have known people closely who thought that everything they did was good. If ever I write about them they may be shocked, or if they are no longer with us they might turn over in their graves for some of their actions register well below the godly bar of excellence.

I don’t like thieves (I actually caught one at Tujunga House once), and rapists and cold-blooded murderers deserve the harshest punishment possible.

Terrible things happen in war, and it is a combustion of many things from fright to fear to hate (often religious or racial) to simply survival. Certainly there is a bloodlust that grabs hold but this can be attached to survival. … It’s him or me. Rape isn’t acceptable in life, and it isn’t acceptable in war. Many of us living in the U.S. are horrified over how people are treated while held captive by a foreign enemy, and this includes their executions (from my POV this has at times been little more than murder). Different cultures are just as horrified by what happens to their people captured by the U.S. It’s a two-way street of horror. At times innocent people (children, women, and men) that are often non-combatants suffer inhuman indignities to their lives and bodies.

Ungodly things happen in daily life and in war. Carrying these thoughts to the Sand Creek manuscript, how do I show what happened in a readable and page-turning manner that is true to what happened while getting my editors to accept the prose? What happened during the lead-up to the attack at Sand Creek, the attack at Sand Creek, and the aftermath is compelling, and at no time should it put you to sleep. For this to happen, the people must become real flesh and blood.

If you know me and my writing, you know that I’m a firm believer that action and not words define people. It is what they do and not what they say that defines them.

Patrice Wymore Flynn dies

Patrice Wymore Flynn died at her home in Jamaica on March 22, 2014, never recovering from a fall in 2013. That’s it. I don’t write obituaries. …

I do want to say a few things. First, life is precious and it is fleeting. Our lives change all the time. People enter it and people exit it. Some, good friends, remain constant regardless if we saw them yesterday or two years ago. It is always like last week no matter how much time has passed. Some partings hurt worse than hell and it takes forever to get beyond what once was never to be again. Sometimes this loss never fades away but is there forever on a daily basis. What can one do? I’ve been told, more than once, to let it go that it will naturally heal itself or it won’t. That’s a harsh verdict.

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Publicity photo of Errol Flynn and Patrice Wymore from the 1950 film Rocky Mountain (lk collection)

When Errol Flynn died, he and Pat had been long separated but not divorced. Flynn … By the way you shouldn’t quote this paragraph. It is hastily written. If there are errors or omissions they aren’t intentional. Again nothing should be quoted as fact (even though Nora’s and Pat’s comments appeared as newspaper copy; that’s right, I don’t trust the press.) other than Deidre Flynn’s quote about her father. … Flynn prepared a second will, but it wasn’t signed or filed properly. I believe the first will was dated1954 and it dictated the division of property. Flynn’s girlfriend (Beverly Addland) wasn’t mentioned in the 1954 will (but how could she be; he hadn’t met her yet), and Deidre and Rory (Flynn’s daughters by second wife Nora Eddington, who remained his friend until the end of his life) received $10,000.00 each and Sean (his son by Lili Damita) received $5,000.00. Pat received the bulk of the estate that was estimated between $20,000.00 to well over $100,000.00 (but less than $1,000,000.00).

EastJamaicaMap_lk_2014_wsThis included extensive property holdings in Jamaica, including a 2,000-acre cattle ranch and coconut plantation near the city of Port Antonio (purchased during their marriage; if true, was it community property?), the Titchfield Hotel in Port Antonio, and Navy Island (just off the coast of Port Antonio; it is no longer a Flynn property). And we can’t forget Flynn’s beloved Zaca (which has been fully restored and I believe sails throughout the Mediterranean Sea during summer months). The press quoted Nora the week after Errol’s death as saying: “He said he was leaving everything to be divided equally among his four children and that the property in Jamaica was to be left to Deidre and Rory.” (Errol had a third daughter with Pat, Arnella Roma Flynn, born Christmas day 1953.) If true, Nora’s statement underlines what might be considered corruptness and a total disregard for a person’s final wishes within the U.S. court system (but then again, it may not). After Errol Flynn’s death lawyers used legalese and a technicality (albeit a major one) to screw Deidre and Rory and reject Errol’s final will. And what about Beverly? That same October 1959 the press quoted Pat as saying: “I intend to see that the will is executed according to Errol’s wishes.” And why not? He had left her, and now his official will left the estate to her. Apparently the 1954 will held up. I’m certain that this wasn’t Mr. Flynn’s intention. He loved his children and at the time of his death he loved Beverly. Deidre has said on camera: “Life at home with my father was like anybody else’s life at home. … He was very down to earth and he was very much a parent. … He was right there, and—and nobody ever writes about that.” Believe me, from everything that I have seen, Errol Flynn was a good father and he loved his kids.

It is not my job to judge. Anyone. My sister, my ex-wife, my daughter, or anyone I write about.

No judging but I am going to talk about Pat

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DVD cover for Robert Kennedy and His Times.

I don’t know anything personally about Errol’s four children even though I worked with Deidre for three or four months back in the early 1980s on a miniseries called Robert Kennedy and His Times, which had an exceptional cast including Brad Davis (RFK), Veronica Cartwright (Ethel Kennedy), G.D. Spradlin (Lyndon Johnson), Cliff de Young (JFK), and on and on. When we did night shooting on the Warner Bros. lot in Burbank, Ca., her younger sister, Rory, who was then a photographer on I think a TV show (can’t remember the title) visited the set once or twice and I met her. At this time another production company was shooting the travesty supposedly based upon Flynn’s great autobiography, My Wicked, Wicked Ways, and they had approached Deidre to be a technical adviser. She apparently had seen the script and was outraged. Even though she had a tee-shirt the production company gave her she turned them down. Deidre never knew I had an interest in her father as I felt she needed her privacy and I had no intention of invading it.

Back to Pat. I’d like to repeat a portion of what Gareth Davis wrote about her in an article that The Gleaner, a Jamaican publication, published on March 24th:

Pat “took up residence in Jamaica following the death of her husband [Flynn] and was an active community member. She was inspirational in paving the way for the Boston Jerk Festival* to return to the community of Boston [Jamaica], which is renowned internationally for it authentic jerked pork. …

* lk comment: I believe the writer is talking about the Portland Jerk Festival, which takes place in the parish of Portland, Jamaica, where Pat spent most of her life. Last year the event happened on July 7, 2013. See the event’s Facebook page for more information: https://www.facebook.com/originsofjerk.

“Paul ‘Bigga’ Young, chairman of the festival committee, in bemoaning the loss of Flynn, described her as a warm and friendly person who, despite her age [Pat was 87 at the time of her death], was full of energy and fire.

“‘She was someone that could easily be approached for just about anything,’* commented Young. ‘What I particularly liked about her is [was?] that she doesn’t [sic? “didn’t”?] beat around the bush. …'”

*lk comment: Other than appearing on the terrific 2005 documentary, The Adventures of Errol Flynn, and sharing some of her time with Flynn, I think she for the most part cut off most writers and other people that wanted to know about her life with Errol.

patriceWymoreFlynn_recent_b&w_border_wsYes, after the Jamaican property became hers, Mrs. Errol Flynn chose to remain in the country Errol fell in love with in 1946 when he, his crew, and his 118 foot schooner, Zaca, survived a Caribbean hurricane and limped into Kingston harbor, Jamaica. Flynn met Pat and fell in love with her while they filmed Rocky Mountain in New Mexico in 1950. Why Warners didn’t spend the money to shoot this film in color is beyond me, for the red rock locations are glorious. Flynn found himself drawn to her, wooed her, and won her hand in marriage (they married in Nice, France, on October 23, 1950).

In June 2006 the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences honored Olivia de Havilland. At the time of the announcement I was recovering from sinus cancer surgery in Arcadia, Ca., and had no computer access. People came out of the woodwork demanding that I get them invitations. One fellow actually sounded like a woman scorned. When I finally saw email piled upon email tearing into me for not replying I was floored. When I replied that I wouldn’t ask OdeH for them as I had no intention of asking for myself and wouldn’t share her address as I had promised her I wouldn’t the attacks (and one in particular) became lethal. I may forgive but I’ll never forget. I doubt that this story in full will ever see print (and it is long).

The punch line: Olivia invited me to her shindig.

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lk & Patrice Wymore Flynn at OdeH’s event in Beverly Hills, Ca., on the evening of June 15, 2006. She sipped wine and nibbled at the buffet. I watched her for a minute or so. When I realized that she was alone I joined her. I’d have to dig out my notes of the evening to provide details of where our conversation headed. We didn’t discuss Errol Flynn. I had heard that she usually refused to open up to her life and time with Mr. Flynn and had no intention of ending our time together quickly. Actually I had hoped to open the door to eventually visiting her in Jamaica. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

The Academy knows how to throw an event/party. The food was scrumptious and the booze flowed. I really had little interest in the guests, other than Olivia who made her appearance after everyone mingled and ate and enjoyed each other’s company. …

Pat held a glass of wine as she tasted food. I had already eaten, as had my then girlfriend, who mingled and shot photos. I watched Pat. At this moment in time she was alone, as was I.

I’m shy (those of you who know me probably don’t believe this, but ’tis true). I walked up to Pat and began talking. Chit-chat about the event. We got along. As Mr. Young stated in The Gleaner, Pat was open and friendly. The conversation was easy and I enjoyed myself. Actually, I teased her for I didn’t let on that I knew anything about Errol Flynn or that I knew who she was. After some 10 or 15 minutes Pat said: “You don’t know who I am.”

I smiled. “Yes I do, Mrs. Flynn.”

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lk (left), Lincoln Hurst, and Patrice Wymore Flynn at OdeH’s event at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills, Ca., on June 15, 2006. I had known Lincoln long distance for years. He had been preparing a book on Flynn that he supposedly had completed years back but now supposedly polished the manuscript. Unfortunately he died almost two and a half years later on November 11, 2008, and had never delivered an acceptable manuscript to his publisher. At this late date it doesn’t appear as if his manuscript will ever see print. Why? Some people talk the talk without walking the walk. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

She liked that I knew who she was and the conversation expanded. Lincoln Hurst, a theological professor from the University of California, Davis, joined us. He had become a friend of Deidre’s and had visited Jamaica with her in the hope of spending time with Pat. From what I’ve heard Pat kept him at a distance and didn’t allow him to visit her on her property. True? I don’t know. The conversation with Pat continued with Lincoln making us a threesome, and it remained easy.

Olivia appeared and I moved off. Later, inside the room where OdeH’s invitees spent time with her I again had the pleasure to chat and joke with Pat Wymore Flynn. She had become an unanticipated pleasure, if only for a short amount of time. Pat easily became the highlight of the evening for me.

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Patrice Wymore Flynn, Deidre Flynn (center), and lk in the room with OdeH while she spent time with her guests. There’s a story here regarding me getting into the room (but it’s for another place, probably Errol & Olivia). Pat was charming and fun to be around. Deidre was as I remembered her when we worked together in the 1980s; curt and standoffish, but that’s her (at least around me) and I’m good with her being her. (photo © Louis Kraft 2006)

I had hoped that our short time together might lead to a visit to Jamaica (trust me; I tried). It didn’t and I never saw her again. A shame, and you can forget Mr. Flynn and what I had hoped to learn, for I had met a classy lady who oozed charm and fun. I would have been satisfied to just hang out with her and enjoy her company. Alas, it never happened and now, never will.

Life is precious. It doesn’t matter if we know someone for a few hours or a lifetime. They can be here today and gone tomorrow.

— Louis Kraft

Errol Flynn, Sand Creek, lk background + Pailin & Louis Kraft marry

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
As in the past, click on an image to expand it


Ladies and gents this blog has been a long time coming. My apologies. As often, I am going to focus on subjects that are important to me. Hopefully the text moves forward at a good clip and doesn’t put you to sleep. And as always, I’ve arranged this blog to my liking; meaning that I’ve saved the most important—and all the sections are important to me—for last.

If you want to see an image enlarged click on it. To return to the blog click the left arrow (on Macs; not sure about PCs).

The pirate Francis Drake, the soldier George Armstrong Custer, and guess who?

The pirate Francis Drake and the soldier George Armstrong Custer entered my life near the beginning. By the 5th grade I had discovered the English pirate the Spaniards called “El Draque,” the dragon.

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El Draque times 2

Drake’s derring-do in his private war against the Spanish empire terrorized not only coastal Spain but all of King Philip II’s cities in the New World. But, unlike pirates before and after him, he wasn’t a blood-thirsty murderer. Instead of butchering captives during a time of extreme religious prejudice he never harbored a bloodlust and acted with compassion. At times he even wined and dined prisoners on plates of crystal while musicians performed. Drake’s genius was twofold: He boldly plotted strikes against Spain’s empire that were implausible. and he could improvise as needed. While still in elementary school I saw Errol Flynn’s The Sea Hawk (1940) for the first time, and even though a youngster I realized that Flynn played a fictitious Drake (BTW the term “privateer” wouldn’t come into existence until a century after Drake’s initial voyages to the Caribbean). Soon after seeing Flynn’s Captain Geoffrey Thorpe in The Sea Hawk I saw him play George Armstrong Custer in They Died With Their Boots On (1941), which introduced me to the Civil War hero who would eventually become the superstar of the Indian wars on the American Plains.

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The quintessential Custer times 2

Like Drake, Custer was a warrior who also improvised. And also like Drake he wasn’t a butcher, and certainly not of Cheyennes, Arapahos, or Sioux. Unlike many Civil War heroes his fame didn’t vanish, perhaps because of his writing for he didn’t engage American Indians in combat often. He came alive when negotiating with Indian leaders. Flynn’s portrayal of Custer led me to read Custer’s My Life on the Plains, which initiated a quest that is alive to this day.

Two Errol Flynn films, both of which were fiction based upon fact that had been disguised. At the moment I don’t know why Drake’s name was dropped. Perhaps it was because Warner Bros. owned the rights to Rafael Sabatini’s great novel, The Sea Hawk, which dealt with an Englishman sold into slavery but who became a Barbary pirate, or because this film was created around Flynn’s screen persona—which I buy into. Regardless, they only retained the title, or in Custer’s case the production changed real historic personages and events into fiction to prevent lawsuit. After seeing these two films (and over the years many times), my future had been ordained even though I wouldn’t realize this until decades later. These two Flynn films have influenced my entire life. Swords, acting, race relations, and eventually my writing. Whew. What can I say, other than I’ve enjoyed many years that mean something to me.

Catching up with Errol Flynn & Olivia de Havilland

Much of late has dealt with Sand Creek, hints of a medical malpractice novel (a positive report will soon follow), and the ongoing spectacle of my life (yawn). I’m certain that many of you feel that I’ve deserted Mr. Flynn and Ms de Havilland. If you think this, you don’t know lk.

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You are looking at the magazine cover for American Classic Screen (January-February 1979),  a now long dead publication. Pretty cool artwork of Mr. Flynn & Ms. de Havilland from their classic film Captain Blood (1935). Of all the periodicals I’ve written for, the Weider History Group, which publishes MHQ (Military History Quarterly), American History, and Wild West, among many other class magazines, is the only company I give a hoot about. Eric Weider’s publications are first class. Period! The best writers write for the Weider History Group, and he hires the best editors, designers, and so on to ensure that his magazines are cutting edge and the best (by far) on the market. Eric and I have never met. You might call us long-distance friends even though we probably live within 25 miles of each other. Will we meet? I would hope so. In reality, probably not. One of his editors, Greg Lalire (Wild West) is a good friend. A few years back I had pitched Eric (who I’m linked with on FB) on publishing a film history magazine. He had the kindness to personally respond why this wasn’t possible (and believe me, his reason hit the mark dead center). Mr. Weider’s organization is the only company I’ll consider working for in the future. Will I someday? Don’t hold your breath.

I never desert my major writing projects. EF & OdeH are a major portion of my past, present, and future writing life. They’ll be front and center until I die. All I can say about my writing projects is “patience.” I have enough information to get my book on EF and OdeH published but this isn’t good enough. My book on Errol & Olivia is going to be different. For this to happen has and will continue to take time. My good-good friend Tom McNulty, author of the best Flynn bio, Errol Flynn: The Life and Career, is helping me with research I’ve not seen. He will eventually be one of my key reviewers of the manuscript. With luck Tom and his beautiful wife Jan will someday be Pailin and my guests. Good-good friend Robert Florczak, who with pretty wife Annette, lives minutes from Tujunga House. Robert is working on an extraordinary book on Flynn. Our relative closeness and friendship allows us to have fun while also sharing and learning from each other’s knowledge and interpretations. There is a third person who is also a wonderland of knowledge and great understanding of Mr. Flynn, good friend David DeWitt. Unfortunately David lives next to the other ocean that touches the U.S. in South Carolina.

deWitt_floczak_mcNulty_feb2014For the record Errol & Olivia research is ongoing, as is the quest to understand what the facts provide. Sometimes this is difficult for at times facts can be misleading. That said, when something pops out of nowhere but is invaluable to the manuscript it gets inserted immediately. I have learned from the past that a golden nugget can be forgotten (for outlines don’t leave room for treasures discovered during the quest for knowledge as often one didn’t know they existed until found).

I’ve already talked about how some of Errol & Olivia will be handled in earlier blogs, and without going into detail here you should know that the goal is to dig behind the realities of Errol’s and Livvie’s eight films. Of the eight films seven have a rich history that slowly developed from historical fact, fiction based upon historical fact, and in one case a major Broadway play. I’ve seen hints that the eighth film also saw birth from another historical figure, but alas, to date I haven’t been able to track this person down and confirm that he did indeed do what has been implied.

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This is the cover for the February 2008 issue of American History. At the time, it was the magazine’s best selling issue (I have no idea if this is still true). This issue included my cover story: “Custer: The Truth Behind the Silver Screen Myth.” Although about Custer, the leading player in the story was Errol Flynn (it was the third of four articles that have been published about Flynn’s portrayal of Custer by lk). In my humble opinion, this is the best article I have had published to date. Certainly it is important to me (for multiple reasons).

In the near future I must ramp up my search for this shadowy figure. … Warners had a knack for jettisoning a good portion of initial research. And as Flynn’s career soared, some of this (along with what I said above) is directly related to his film persona. EF’s onscreen presence had taken the film-adoring public by storm in December 1935, and Warners realized this immediately. After the massive success of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), a film that is still thought of his greatest role (although I disagree with this totally), almost every film that came after until the aftermath of the farce of a rape trial and even greater farce of Flynn avoiding serving his adopted country during WWII, his roles and films were constructed to give the public what it wanted and expected when the lights dimmed in the cinema houses. A notable exception at the end of this timeframe was Flynn’s Uncertain Glory (1944)*, which gave him a dark side (although still heroic and charming) and one of his best performances.

* Robert Florczak, already mentioned above, likes lists. I’m not too big on them although I recently agreed to create several lists for the August 2014 issue of Wild West magazine. Robert has coaxed me into a list on Elvis Presley songs and wants three more (a task I haven’t completed yet as I take lists seriously). Of course he asked me to list my top 10 Flynn films. Although tough, this list has always been in place regardless if sometimes the 9th and 10th films sometimes are replaced. Uncertain Glory is always on my list.

In contrast to Flynn’s meteoric rise to super stardom, Olivia’s rise to stardom followed a different path than his.

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lk with Olivia de Havilland in her garden in Paris, France, on July 3, 2009. This lady is so vibrant and alive, so funny and yet political and serious. All I can say is that I’ve been lucky that she has allowed me to enter her life, if only briefly, over the years. (photo © Louis Kraft 2009)

And like EF (who knew his value to Warner Bros., and who took an active part in forming the roles he played) she also had a firm grasp of what she wanted in her career. If you talk with her, you’ll easily realize how much she craved good roles, but for her—as her box office appeal couldn’t match Mr. Flynn’s—she didn’t have the ear of Jack Warner, nor the courage to confront Jack when unhappy. Where Flynn’s massive popularity guaranteed that Warner and executive producer Hal Wallis had to listen to him, Olivia’s main thrust to garner better roles (and this included not playing EF’s lady in waiting—although years after EF’s death she realized how great the films they did together were) was to reject a role and go on suspension or have massive fits). That said, she did have guts. When Jack Warner refused to allow her to try out for Gone With The Wind, she went behind his back to land the role of Melanie (for which she won her first Oscar nomination). Playing a leading role and being recognized for her performance didn’t win her kudos with Jack W.; instead she was punished. By the time Olivia’s seven year contract ended and she said goodbye, she was told that it hadn’t as she still owed Warner’s time for when she was on suspension (that is time without pay). What followed took 100 times more guts than it took to sneak behind Warner’s back and lobby for the part of Melanie.

And Sand Creek also creeps forward …

Regarding the ongoing struggle to understand the events that led up to the tragedy at Sand Creek, the battle, and the aftermath, my key person is John Monnett, a good friend and a great writer and Indian wars historian.

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I took this photo of John Monnett at the LaQuinta Inn and Suites, Denver Tech Center, Greenwood Village, Co., after we had both spoken at the Order of the Indian Wars Denver Symposium at the National Guard Base in Centennial on 20apr2013. As I was in Colorado for 11 days we were able to spend time together (thanks to our mutual friend Layton Hooper, who functioned as my personal driver in snow-blanketed Colorado).

John has always helped me, and has opened his home to Pailin and myself as he aids my quest to understand the people and events that resulted in the tragic event on November 29, 1864. This year we’ll visit him and Colorado (fingers are crossed, and if not then in 2015 if John’s invite remains open), track what I still need to see (including some John Chivington in Boulder), and lk will again take a close look at a land that I’ve always loved but have shied away from due to temperatures that send shivers up my spine. My guess is that Pailin will fall in love with Colorado.

BTW John has recently asked me not to turn my back on nonfiction (something that is possible if I no longer have access to Indian wars or golden age of cinema research). His request was heartfelt and hit the mark. Back in the Dark Ages I thought I’d write novels, but that changed to nonfiction (a decision I’ve never questioned or shied from). I love nonfiction writing, I love the challenge to make it page-turning, and I love the search for the reality of what happened. If I walk away, a good part of me will die. That said, I must hustle enough money to stay the course (and continue to enjoy 70+ degree weather right here in the USA, and preferably in Los Angeles).

darkCheyVillage_byLK

I created this dark image from a photo I took in 1999 to represent the Sand Creek village (this photo wasn’t taken at Sand Creek, so what you see here is fiction as related to 1864). That said, the attack on the Cheyenne-Arapaho villages at Sand Creek is a dark time in history, a time that should never be forgotten. I’ve used this image in other social media and a great friend of mine, Eric Niderost (a prolific historian) objected. Think others might have also objected. Not to worry for this image will never see the light of day with lk words that see print (a true statement at the moment, and hopefully always). That said, at times, I must keep dark images in my head as I move forward. For only then can I (hopefully) create text that is light and moves. What good is a book, or any writing, if it puts people to sleep? The goal is to grab people’s interest, their soul, their guts, and keep them reading. (photo & art © Louis Kraft 1999 & 2013)

Regardless of the progress on Sand Creek, the research is ongoing, and my mind constantly swirls as I try to figure out how to mix and match people (major, minor, and bit players) as they enter the story, advance the story, and drift off to perhaps return or not). The key is the flow. It has to be smooth and yet natural, and it cannot bounce all over the place in time. I’m a firm believer that action is character. We are what we do and not what we say. Anyone can tell a good tale, but if he doesn’t live his tale it isn’t anything but fantasy, fiction, or lies. When a person says one thing but does the opposite, it is the doing that is his history. Just read all the slop that is stuffed down our throats on a daily basis. Publicity, regardless if a press agent leaks it or I spout it is what it is. And that is nothing unless the publicist’s client did what was released or I did what I said I would. If not, and 100 years (more or less) from today it finds its way into a book it is an error only to be perpetrated again and again by lazy historians who don’t do their research but instead create (or repeat history that never happened) as they pull from a handful of secondary sources while blindly printing what they have read without knowing it was indeed based upon fact.

For example and regarding Ned Wynkoop: How many times have you read that Wynkoop attended Silas Soule’s funeral in Denver in 1865?

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This image of Ned Wynkoop has been published four times, the last being in summer 2013. I’m not a great artist. If you talk with real artists, they’ll tell you my attempts suck. Still I continue. Why? Sometimes I get lucky and I earn a few bucks that in turn puts food on the table. I need say no more. Actually I do, for my writing is little better than my art. Talk to real writers and historians and they’ll enlighten you. Why? ‘Tis simple. I do what I want, and I learn as I go. More important, I care about my subjects … and this is what drives me. (Wynkoop art © Louis Kraft 2007)

Fact: Wynkoop didn’t attend Soule’s funeral in Denver, but was at Fort Lyon, Colorado Territory. I’m certain that this error will continue to be repeated. Or how about this quote about George Bent: “George Bent remembered as a child in the 1830s seeing Indian herds grazing for fifty miles along the river [the Arkansas] near Bent’s Fort.” This quote is on page 87 of Elliott West’s award-winning Contested Plains: Indians, Goldseekers, and the Rush to Colorado (University Press of Kansas, 1998). The note cites page 37 in George E. Hyde’s Life of George Bent: Written From His Letters (OU Press, 1968). So far, so good.

Dust jacket for the Wynkoop book.

However, the sentence referenced in Hyde’s work states: “When I was a boy I saw the Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches camped on the Arkansas near my father’s fort, and their pony herds were grazing along the river for fifty miles.” Still so far, so good. But—there’s always that damned “but”—BUT George B. was born on July 7, 1843. How many “so-called” historians will repeat this error ad nauseam as undisputed fact?

Writer/historians make errors and sometimes they aren’t caught until unfortunately in print.* It happens. Although my publishers have said they’d fix errors to date they haven’t. I have corrected my errors in magazine and book form when dealing with the same subject in subsequent books and will continue to do so whenever possible.

* Other errors can enter the text when in copyediting. For example, on page 182 (chapter 12, “Hancock’s War”) in Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (OU Press, 2011), while accompanying Maj. Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock’s 1867 expedition in force to meet or engage the Cheyennes (and other tribes) reporter Henry Stanley wrote the following about Wynkoop: “The Colonel is an Indian agent par excellence, of whom a slight description will not suffice to convey any just idea. He is a Plains man, and the best handler of Indians that has been on the Arkansas. The Indians have every confidence in his integrity, and respect him for the ‘heap fight’ that he is known to be capable of making.” In the copyedit the editor changed this quote from representing Wynkoop to George Armstrong Custer. When I complained loudly, she said, “Didn’t Custer put up a ‘heap fight.'” (the quote is a paraphrase). “No!!! We’re talking about Wynkoop and not Custer!” I’m not picking on this lady or copyeditors. Errors are made, and they aren’t on purpose. This copyeditor and all of my copyeditors have been absolutely first class (except one; no comments) and I have been damned lucky to have had them work on my words.

An lk attempt to improve research

The last blog dealt with Charley Bent and my quest to learn more about him for Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. …

The attempt to gain unknown information has been less than successful.* That said, I did learn key information about Charley that I didn’t know. I do intend to again attempt presenting another person on the lk Blog and OIW FB page in the hope that it will generate response. Most likely George Shoup (but not guaranteed at the moment), a lieutenant in the First Colorado Cavalry who would become colonel and commanding officer of the Third Colorado Cavalry. I’m good with his military record, but I’m hoping that people can fill me in with his personal life. I want to know the man. Fingers are crossed. This will happen in the not-too-distant future. … and if not Shoup next, someone else I want to know more about. Perhaps Dog Men leaders Bull Bear and Tall Bull.

* Less than successful is not the best way to describe my attempt to learn more about Charley, for the simple reason that he is shrouded in mystery and only surfaces here and there during his all-too-brief life.

Who I am

The subtitle of the lk website/blog is “Follow the winding trail of a writer as he walks a solitary road …” I chose those words carefully as they have a lot of meaning for me. I’m not looking for sympathy. Actually I’ve had a great life, it’s just been lonely at times. My choice.

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lk as Ned Wynkoop in 2012, when I represented him when he was inducted into the Santa Fe Trail Hall of Fame. In this image I’m leaning against the recently reconstructed building that Wynkoop rented while U.S. Indian agent at Fort Larned, Ks. I don’t know how well I’d do in a gunfight. That said, if confronted by a swordsman, I’d walk away untouched with blood on my blade. (photo by friend George Elmore; image © Louis Kraft 2012)

I chose the path I’d follow, and I’ve refused to compromise. That said, I’ve had no problem with changing my course whenever it was good for me. Again, I made the decisions and have flat out refused to back off from my goals. This has cost me. I can’t give you, or won’t give you, what ruined an early marriage, but I have had two long term relationships that I had hoped would be forever. They weren’t. This can’t be placed on the two lady’s shoulders for it is a two way street. It didn’t matter for two outside forces did everything possible to doom those relationships.The first lady didn’t try but the second did, only to give up. The outside forces gave no mercy and did everything possible to destroy these relationships.

After the last relationship had ended in 2011 I decided that nothing and no one would again interfere. This is my fucking life and no one else’s.

The year 2011 had two endings to one relationship. Looking back both are hysterical. And I’m dying to tell the stories. The words are going to jump off the page when I tell those stories. But alas, you’ll have to wait for the Memoir, and then only if I have the guts to tell the truth. Yeah, lk wants to keep on walking this earth in one piece. Read between the lines.

I’m good with the lonely trail, and let me tell you I’m perfectly fine when I’m all alone. I’m at peace with the world and with my brain totally alive.

The good die young 

They say that the good die young. My brother, my sister, my mother, Dale Schuler (my dad’s partner, best friend, and a father and good friend to me) died young.

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This is my father, Louis J. Kraft Sr., at my former Thousand Oaks, California, home on August 17, 1991. The house was a half block walk into the Santa Monica Mountains. If you click on the image to enlarge it you’ll partially see the pool in his sunglasses. When young, and after my parents purchased their first and only California home, they ensured I had swimming lessons and had a pool created for me. Throughout the years swimming has been a major portion of my life (and is by far my favorite physical activity). From my mother’s death forward we were forever good in each other’s presence. However, beginning before my mother’s early death, he had become the key player in my life (even though I didn’t know it) and this dated back to my college years. (photo © Louis J. Kraft, Jr. 1991)

There have been others. …

For the first 33 years of my life my father and I hated each other while loving each other. I should have been a man, as my father wanted, but I refused to walk that road. We were at constant odds. He knocked me out once. A year or two later, a fat woman ran me and my motorcycle over while running. She knocked me cold and left me hanging from a wire fence. My father was right there for me.

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The TD6 is a powerful machine and doesn’t take prisoners.

Later yet, while working for my father’s construction company I kicked down the framework for a swimming pool that I had just set when he was digging the hole too quickly with an International Harvester TD6 tractor and making it difficult to drive in the stakes accurately. But the next day it was as if it never happened. That was our life. I couldn’t be what he wanted and I had every intention of stuffing down his throat that I’d do what I damned well pleased. We didn’t connect until his wife/my mother went into the hospital for the last time on December 26, 1979. She died 10 days later. During those 10 days we spent every waking minute together and those 10 days gave us a relationship that would last for the last 19 years of his life.

Oh, we still fought, but the next day it was always as if nothing had happened. This man gave me my life, for he instilled in me the courage to do as my life called and to hell with everything else. This has been with me while he lived, it was certainly present when he died, and it is with me ’til this day.

 A day I’ll never forget

February 14, 1999, was one long day of hell.

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Christmas 1988 at the lk Encino, Ca., home. Kneeling from left: lk, Louis Sr.; standing from left: Linda Kraft (my sister), Robin Fried (my brother’s longtime girlfriend), and brother Lee Kraft. Good Times, and although my father and I didn’t know it at the time, my brother Lee had a little over a year to live. By this time my father was long retired and had nothing to do with his former company, BKS Excavating. (photo © Louis Kraft 1988)

I had been taking care of my father for years, and during this time I had seen our relationship blossom. Oh we continued to argue and fight, but we had become close-knit buddies. I spent between three, four, and sometimes five days/evenings (after writing for Infonet in El Segundo beginning at 6:00 AM) with him every week. We ate together (either before or after I did whatever tasks he needed completed; I hated the grocery shopping for that was usually three or four stores and easily cost two+ hours).

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Marissa Kraft and her grandfather at Tujunga House on Father’s Day 1995. Good times for both Marissa and her grandfather as she stayed with him before school and after school until I could pick her up. During summers she spent the entire day with him. (photo Louis Kraft Jr. 1995)

But they were good times as we relaxed and ate (most often food he cooked, but sometimes takeout) and enjoyed each other’s company. As the days and years passed he became weaker and weaker. His time walking the earth neared an end. About two weeks before his death, when he became too weak to move about, he entered a convalescent home, and here his health declined quickly. I saw him daily and our talks continued. At this time he told me: “If I had known that I would live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.” A day before his death he said to me: “I love you” as I left. This was the first time he had ever said this to me.

The above words were the last words my father said to me, for the next day (a Sunday and Valentine’s Day) when my Japanese lady (Cindy Tengan) and I arrived to see him he was no longer in his room.

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Cindy Tengan, a product manager at Infonet (now British Telecom Infonet) in El Segundo, Ca., on Cinco de Mayo 1995. We had met in 1994 when I still wrote for Infonet. Although she had made no attempt to befriend my daughter, she was a good person. My father liked her, and I’m lucky to have known her.

Instead he was half on and half off a bed in a room with other people on beds. Worse, he had pulled a cord that fed him air (the first time he had one) from his nose and it dangled from his bed. I went to the desk and asked for a nurse. After she got him back on the bed with the air in place I demanded to see someone in authority. “Keep my father alive!” The cold answer was “Show us proof you can demand this.” Cindy and I raced to my father’s house and tore it apart. We couldn’t find his living trust. Did he give me a copy? I didn’t think so. We raced to my house and tore it apart. No trust. During this time I had placed 10-15 calls to my sister’s home and cell phones and left messages with no return calls.

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This image was taken at my sister’s house in Long Beach, Ca. (April 1995). Although our relationship ended, Cindy Tengan was always there for me, … and without her I would have died 11 years ago. (photo © Louis Kraft 1995)

Cindy and I sped back to the convalescent home. My father wasn’t in the room. “Where is he?” “He’s been moved to the Northridge Hospital” (this is where my brother had been helicoptered after dying on a bank below the 101 freeway in March 1990). My daughter and her mother arrived at the home and in two cars we drove to the hospital. They took us to a room (memories of my brother Lee, for in 1990 the first thing out of my mouth after being taken to a room with my father was, “Is my brother alive?”) I asked the fatal question: “Is my father alive?” “Yes.” “Keep him alive.” “Do you have authority?” “Yes.” I didn’t have the trust that gave me authority, but they didn’t ask to see proof.

We sat in the room and waited for updates. About an hour passed; we were told that my father had died. After my daughter and I spent time with my father/her grandfather for the last time Cindy and I returned to my house. At the midnight hour, and after over 30 phone calls and messages to my sister before she returned the call (as it turned out, she had taken the trust without telling me). I had told her two days before, on Friday, that our father probably wouldn’t live through the weekend. She said: “I didn’t believe you.”

A June 2013 day

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Nam Maradei and Pailin Subanna at Tujunga House on June 15, 2013. This image, by lk, doesn’t do Nam justice as she is knock-out gorgeous (due to me kneeling and shooting up at her). Pailin is looking at me and her eyes captured my soul. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013).

I”m not going to repeat here what has been previously published on this blog other than restating that on June 15, 2013, a lady agreed to attend a dinner party at Tujunga House. On that day she walked into my world and touched me as no other person has ever done before.

I haven’t just written about culture and race, I have lived it. I love people the world over—past and present. This has been the theme in my writing, over and over again, along with that key word, “peace.” The writing focus has been on the American Indian wars. To repeat myself, this came about simply: Errol Flynn’s portrayal as George Armstrong Custer in They Died With Their Boots On and George Armstrong Custer’s My Life on the Plains (1874) introduced me to the 1860s Indian wars. Digging brought me to race relations, which has been important to me my entire adult life. And I have walked the life I talk, and because of this have been accused of being prejudiced against white women. This accusation is laughable. A pretty woman is a pretty woman and I don’t give a bleep what her race is.

When Pailin Subanna appeared at my door on that June 15 day holding orchards I sucked in air and damned myself for not having a camera in my hand. A coworker of hers (Nam) invited and then brought her to a dinner party at Tujunga House. As it was to be a dinner party for five, two couples and me, she had insisted upon bringing a guest for me. Neither she nor I, nor the lady (Pailin) could have guessed where this chance afternoon and evening would lead. Not in a 1000 years.

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This lady named Pailin was for me, and I asked her out (a first for me since 2011). On June 20, 2013, I picked her up and we drove to Santa Monica, Ca., and walked along the cliffs above the beach. We later descended the stairs to the beach, walked along the Pacific, enjoyed the pier, and each other at a Thai restaurant in the Santa Monica open mall. She was fragile but full of life. She later told me she had been told that she needed to open her heart. Although unsaid, so did I. This sunny June day was perhaps one of the most important days in my life, for it directly led to my future, a future of two people who dared to open their hearts. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2013)

Pailin was quiet and yet composed and firm while dealing with things that perhaps should not have been said but were (not by me). I liked her beauty, but more I liked her poise and strength of character. Before she left that night I knew I wanted to see her again; I wanted her to enter my life.

Pailin had been hurt, and much worse than me. And she has also walked a lonely road. She was frail, vulnerable, and yet alive as no one I’ve ever encountered. She opened her heart and this led to us becoming friends, best friends, and falling in love.

We wanted to marry, and I thought it would be in May 2014. Pailin wanted February 14. I told her about my father’s death on that day in 1999 while adding that I was good with Valentine’s Day, as it could be a special day in my father’s life and ours. We looked into February 14, and lo and behold it would become an important day in my life for the second time in 2014, for on this oh-so important day in my life Pailin became my wife.

THE Day 2014

I hadn’t slept in two nights (and neither had Pailin). Some health reasons, but also our nervousness over the coming day (and there are things here I cannot say—not now and perhaps never for if I do it will unleash a maelstrom of evil; don’t ask for this is something that I can’t talk about).

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We struggled to maneuver through LA traffic. Luckily there was a parking spot on La Brea north of Wilshire and I took it, which probably saved another 10 minutes of drive time as we didn’t need to look for parking once we looped around the Albertson Chapel. We had time after Pailin dressed and before the ceremony, and while friends snapped photos I chatted away in Pailin’s ear. (Photo by Robert Florzcak; image © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

The day arrived and we were up; a glorious sunny day and already warm. Although tired, we were happy. Nervous but happy and longing for our new lives together. She cooked soup for breakfast. “Alloy mark!” “Delicious!” I’m a good cook, but when compared to her I’m not. Pailin’s soups are to die for. If I don’t have my soup to start the day … GRRRR!!!

We still had a lot to do to prepare for the day, and we crammed. We were due at the chapel at 12:30 and although we hoped to leave at 11:45 we didn’t leave until 12:10 PM. We had made the drive to Wilshire Blvd. on the Miracle Mile in 20 minutes, and I had later made the trip in 30 minutes. On this day it took 50 minutes. I don’t get nervous, but on this drive I was a wreck. I totally forgot about taking the 170 freeway to the 101. Surface streets, including me making wrong choices on the streets added time to the trek. The Vette flew on the 101 freeway when we reached it, but from there on it was bumper-to-bumper no-move traffic. Highland Ave. to Franklin to La Brea to Wilshire Blvd. in LA should have been a cup of tea. Fat chance. Try 25 minutes for a few miles (and often taking two lights to get through an intersection). During the drive, Sabrina, Pailin’s niece, called a number of times asking where we were. It’s too bad that Pailin wasn’t driving, for I would have said, “We’ve called it off.” Yep, I do have a sick sense of humor (for this certainly wasn’t what I wanted).

When we finally arrived at the Albertson Chapel 20 minutes late, almost everyone was there and wondering if indeed we had called it off.

No way! That said, I was having trouble walking. Surrounded by friends and knowing that my future was less than an hour away, I relaxed and began to enjoy this precious time. We were allowed 20 guests. Most were Pailin’s, and most I knew and liked (unfortunately some couldn’t come) … Sabrina (Pailin’s niece), Montanee, and Kobie are three ladies I’ve enjoyed knowing since meeting them. I invited seven people and they were all able to come.

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This image is based upon a photo taken with Pete Senoff’s camera at Lum Ka Naad in Northridge, California, on 25jul13. From left to right: lk, Pailin, Nina & Pete Senoff. I had reunited with Pete, who went to high school with me, in 2012, and shortly after met his bride Nina, who immediately became my friend. On this day, Pailin and Nina met for the first time and became instant friends (Pete & I were amazed at how well they hit it off).

Pete Senoff, who as editor of the Grover Cleveland High School newspaper, made my final year in high school a pure joy by keeping my image and words in print, which in turn allowed me to win office as Boys’ League President. Pete and I had reconnected a couple of years back, just prior to his marriage to Nina, and, along with Pailin, has made us a close foursome. Marjorie Chan, a film and TV costumer I had the pleasure to work with in the early 1980s (TV show Tucker’s Witch and TV movie Johnny Belinda with Richard Thomas). Thirty+ years, many caring talks and time together, and we’re still good friends (no matter how long the gaps between us seeing each other).

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The other four I met in 2008 (I think) at an Errol Flynn event. Robert and Annette Florczak and Greg and Nam Maradei. Greg is a Flynn aficionado and Robert (an artist and musician) is also writing a book about Flynn (a book that will be “must read” when published). Their wives are terrific and also good friends. Annette is perhaps one of my most caring and supportive friends. She is always there for me, asking about my welfare and offering right-on suggestions when I need them. Nam is a totally alive person and is a joy to know. Like Nina, her humor is vibrant and spontaneous.

I think everyone mingled and got along, but I don’t know for I was too high and focused on the fragile woman that had entered and changed my life.

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This is my favorite image from ps & lk wedding, and it is the only image that has been published elsewhere. (photo by Annette Florczak)

Everything moved at lightening speed. The Reverend Fernando Rossi Howard officiated, and although he had trouble pronouncing Pailin’s name, and suffered through me correcting him and other lk ad-libs*, the ceremony and wording couldn’t have been better. What was best about the ceremony was that Pailin and I didn’t know what would be said before hand, even though the three of us had discussed it with examples that we brought to our initial meeting, examples Pailin and I liked or didn’t like.

“Ad-libs” are when actors don’t say their lines as printed in film or play scripts, which are supposed to be holy. From my POV as both actor and writer, this is little more than BS for the simple reason that oftentimes ad-libs are better than the scripted words. … Back in 2009 while rehearsing Cheyenne Blood, a play I had written, as Ned Wynkoop I said lines that weren’t in the script. The director, my great friend Tom Eubanks, stopped the rehearsal and said that I didn’t say the correct words. “I ad-libbed” I stated. “Say the correct lines.” “I just did!” “No you didn’t!” “Yes, I did. Write what I just said in the script and we’re ready to continue.” He didn’t, and those words were lost to eternity. lk is one writer who doesn’t buy into the theory that the written word is holier than hell (or however that statement goes).

Both Pailin and I were totally attentive to Fernando’s words and in tune with each other, especially during our vows which concluded with placing the rings on our fingers.

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This was our 1940s-style kiss; don’t want to give too much away. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

When we reached the point where Fernando asked if I took Pailin to be my wife … “I said, “Kub-pom.” This garnered me a nice laugh from the Thai people present; I suppose as they were surprised that I used their word for “yes.” I hadn’t expected their reaction and waited until the laughter ended before saying, “Yes, I do.” In stark contrast to my tightness at our late arrival at the chapel I was totally loose and enjoying every minute of the ceremony. Pailin took the ceremony a little more seriously than I did. Where I allowed my emotions drive how I said words, she was quieter than I. At no point do I mean that I took our marriage lightly. This was a very happy day for me, and once entering the chapel the tension of being late disappeared quickly as I was among the seven good friends I invited.

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Just after the wedding ended and we’ve stepped downstairs. This is not a full group shot (don’t think any were taken; certainly I don’t have any images). From left: Annette Florczak, Robert Florczak, Nina Senoff, Pete Senoff, Praphuntri (Kobie) Poopan, Nam Maradei, lk, Greg Maradei, Pailin, Marjorie Chan, and Mam Siwan. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Add that I am good friends with a number of Pailin’s friends even though I haven’t seen them that often; Montanee Sothtitham, Praphuntri (Kobie) Poopan, and Pailin’s niece Pakgirapa (Sabrina) Subanna for certain. Others I met for the first time, including Caterine Jensin, Jackie Vinai, Annie Aunroun and Jenny Atchara (whom I actually met briefly at the Thai Temple on December 31, 2013) were open and I felt good when in their company. Like my friends, Pailin’s friends are close to her.

Pete, Robert, and Annette shot pictures for me, and along with those taken by the chapel, I have a good selection to pull from (and believe me, their images although not shot with expensive cameras, often are much better than the official images … many of which are useless).

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A done deal, and 1000 times more important than signing a book contract. lk is one lucky pirate/frontiersman. (Photo by Robert Florzcak; image © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

If you’ve followed the blogs since I met Pailin, you are very aware of what type of person she is and know why I fell head over heels for her. On February 14 she was as always; that is full of life and enjoying every minute of it. I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding. It was a special day for me for now I am linked with a special person for all time, a special person that took me a lifetime to find.

We had a small reception at Tujunga House but we spent the time with our guests and perhaps only one image was taken.

February 14, 2014, was step 2 in our lives together (step 1 was June 15, 2013, when we met). Hopefully we’ll complete step 3, which has already begun, by year’s end. Doable? Don’t know. We’ll find out.

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On February 20 Pailin and lk met with a lawyer to discuss our future. Afterwards we shopped in Thai Town, and then returned to the Albertson Chapel in Los Angeles to see Rev. Fernando Howard. I hadn’t mentioned it, but he is an Apache. His marrying us was alive and had grabbed both of us (I had to struggle to prevent tears from flowing). Fernando is alive, bright, and a good person. I like him. During all of our meetings (and including February 20th there have been four) the talk has also included the Apaches and especially Geronimo. Geronimo, the Apaches, and Charles Gatewood have reentered my life, and although in the past I tried to parry all attempts to get me to return to the Apache wars, I no longer do. The key player in this recent reconsideration by me has been Lt. Col. Paul Fardink (U.S. Army, retired), who has become a good friend. I wanted to give Fernando a copy of Gatewood & Geronimo that both Pailin and I had signed. He was thrilled. Am certain that Pailin and I will see him in the future. (photo © Pailin Subanna-Kraft & Louis Kraft 2014)

Oh the writing continues. It will continue until the day I die, but my life has changed for all time. I’ve found that special person to walk through the world with me. Our lives have been challenges, but now joined it has become one challenge. It is a challenge that both of us are capable of dealing with and we’ll do this together. Our life is one we both want and will work at together to create.

Los Angeles is our home (it is certainly key for my Flynn and de Havilland research). We hope that this will remain our home for all time as we love it in LA. However, if this isn’t possible we’ll look to relocate in a few states in the USA (all are key to Indian wars research, and alas, several have too much snow for this ol’ boy’s liking). That said, they are definitely on our radar. Other choices exist, but aren’t for this blog.

Bottom line: I’m the luckiest fellow in the world.

— Louis Kraft

Charley Bent, Sand Creek, and other Louis Kraft musings

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2014
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
As in the past, click on an image to expand it


As promised, details of my quest to learn more about Charley Bent appears in this blog. Musings? Hell, you know me. I like to meander. Usually the blogs are long, just look at the last one if you don’t believe me. This one will be short. I promise. So here goes. …. (I know, I know–please Kraft, spare us the meanderings!). Sorry. ‘Taint in the blood.

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To date you have been fed an overload on Errol Flynn & Olivia de Havilland; Mr. G. & Mr. G.; Ned Wynkoop, Cheyennes, and Sand Creek (face up to it, the Sand Creek story and the key players are going to dominate a good portion of these blogs until the book is published (as will E&O and the lk saga past and present until these books are also published).

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Various symbols that represent the medical world.

What you haven’t been bombarded with is The Discovery (the first in a series of novels that have entered or reentered my life). Don’t hold your breath, for even though this respite will be short, this story has begun to take control of my life. This can’t be, and I’ve made a point of allotting time to both it and Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway on each day. To date progress has been slow on The Discovery, slower than hoped for but decent. That said, this week the characters have begun to pop off the pages. An upcoming meeting will soon determine everything in this novel’s future. This meeting, when it happens, is all important. BTW, even though partnering on a novel hasn’t been easy for me, it is a win-win for me (on many levels). If I do what I should be capable of doing, prepare properly, present everything that I’ll deliver, this will be the next published book with lk’s name on the cover.

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Warm temperatures will dictate the future. BTW, this beachfront is not located in the US of A.

My friends, not to worry, for Errol & Olivia is a major book for me (as are the 2nd book on Flynn and a nonfiction book on Kit Carson), and Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway is a must for me (I can’t begin to tell you how important this book is to me). Hours, days, weeks, and months tick by. Time. It is the most valuable thing I have in this world (other than my lady and my daughter). I have taken a long hard look at the books I have written and those I want to complete, and let me tell you that I had better live for many more years. Of course I have every intention of enjoying every minute that I have with my work, Pailin (and hopefully Marissa). I don’t give a hoot where we live. LA—and I love LA—may someday be in my rearview mirror. The USA and the world beckon; that is those locations with sunshine, blue skies, warm temperatures, and reduced violence (I know that I’m asking for a lot). Hell, I’m a writer and can live anywhere my lady and I choose (even Colorado).

Back to Charley and Sand Creek

Progress isn’t as fast as I’d like on Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. Blame this on anything you want, for anything you name is the culprit (except for writer’s block; I never have writer’s block).

In a nutshell, the following is what I have on Charley Bent:

  • George Bent’s letters to George Hyde and George Bird Grinnell
    – Some of which I’ve found in Colorado, Los Angeles, and Yale (I deal with the university long distance)

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    This colorized portrait of Charley Bent is copyrighted. I’ve posted it in the past and hesitated posting it again as it will be included in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. That said, it isn’t available to share or repost or use. I posted it here only as it is the only image that I am aware of that shows Charley in young manhood. Pardon the following while trusting what follows. I hang out with my lawyer, we party together and we are the best of friends. If this colorized image is stolen, we will sue you. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

  • Two good friends (Gary Leonard and John Monnett) have supplied me with the magnificent digitized assembly of George B.’s letters that were compiled by Lincoln B. Faller, although the word usage seems to have been cleaned up from photocopies of George’s letters that I have in his own hand (his English wasn’t the best)
  • I have viewed the George Bird Grinnell collection at the Braun Library, Southwest Museum, Autry Museum of the American West (and will do so again, to ensure that I haven’t missed anything)
  • The three major government documents dealing with the attack at Sand Creek
    – House of Representatives 38th Congress, Second Session (“Massacre of Cheyenne Indians”)
    – Report of the Secretary of War, 39th Cong., 2d Sess. Ex. Doc. No 26
    – “The Chivington Massacre” (included in Carroll, ed., The Sand Creek Massacre, which also includes the two government documents listed directly above, of which I have printouts. That said, to date I haven’t searched on Charley Bent.)
  • The War of the Rebellion (Note that my previous research related to the Wynkoop story; that focus has changed and expanded and I know for a fact that I haven’t seen everything. That said, I had never searched on Charley’s name, but will soon.)
  • Halaas and Masich’s Halfbreed (Da Capo Press, 2004)
  • Hyde’s Life of George Bent (University of Oklahoma Press, 1968)
  • Berthrong, Grinnell, and Hoig’s books dealing with the Cheyennes
  • Father Peter Powell’s books dealing with the Cheyennes and the Cheyenne wars
  • Gary Roberts’ “Sand Creek: Tragedy and Symbol” graduate dissertation (University of Oklahoma,1984)
  • Greg Michno’s Battle at Sand Creek (Upton and Sons, 2004; BTW, I designed this book)

For what it’s worth, my library is extensive. Also note that I’m not asking you to look at the Wynkoop book (its bibliography is 10 pages, and a good portion of it deals with the Cheyenne wars of the 1860s).

Still, after all of the above, I don’t know much about Charley Bent. Half white and half Cheyenne, he chose his mother’s people. Why?

I know approximately when he died (November 1967; the 10th or could it have been the 20th?), and it wasn’t from a wound if we can believe brother George. Or is there a George B. quote that claimed Charley did die from fever after being wounded (I haven’t seen this letter yet but will hopefully have it soon), and if so why did George change his story later in life? The Pawnee bullet incident seems to be based upon a story published in an Oklahoma newspaper roughly a month shy of 43 years after Charley’s end (and it called him a chief of the Dog Soldiers). Details? To date piss poor. … It appears that Charley was one tough hombre, not someone to cross or face in battle. True? Honestly, at this moment in time I don’t know. In the early 1860s he turned his back on his father’s (William Bent’s) world and pretty much lived and fought with the Cheyennes. It appears as if his anger and hatred toward his father was strong, strong enough that he might have considered murdering his him.

Again why?

For your information, the Sand Creek manuscript wraps up with the end of the 1860s, so everything related to Charley is in the manuscript’s scope. Billy Markland recently supplied me with a tad of information on Charley that happened in early 1867 (Executive Document, House of Representatives, 2nd Sess. 41st Congress, 1869-70). I’m certain that there is more in Charley’s short life that I am not aware of and have no clue where it is located.

As I had mentioned on a previous blog and on the OIW Facebook page I plan on sending a book to the person who supplies me with what I consider the most important information about Charley that I don’t know (if a second or even a third person also submits good information that I have no prior knowledge of, they too will receive the second and third books (listed below).

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Having difficulties viewing this image? Click on it to expand it.

That’s right, I’m placing three books into this mix. I’m not saying they are great books (or pamphlets), but they are related to the Indian wars and have been in my library.

Why the generosity?

Pure and simple, I haven’t been the most social person and my research money isn’t what it used to be. I need to increase how I come by valuable information. And it would be nice to get to know people that have similar interests. Also, I am in desperate need of room, and I hate to say it, but I’m the world’s worst salesman. I don’t think I’m capable of selling a Sacajawea $1.00 coin for .50 cents. Anyway I have the books and it will be my pleasure to send them to you.

They are:

  • Crimsoned Prairie: The Indian Wars on The Great Plains by S. L. A. Marshall (Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1972; this is a book club edition)*
  • Custer’s Battle of the Washita and a History of the Plains Indian Tribes by Jess C. Epple (Exposition Press, New York, 1970)*
  • The Honor of Arms: A Biography of Myles W. Keogh by Charles L. Convis (Westernlore Press, Tucson, Arizona, 1990)*

* lk note: The above books come with no recommendations. They have been read by me and in two cases by others.

Oh, and this is important. Everything stated above is to go through an email address (writerkraft@gmail.com). I will not deal with a round robin open debate on the OIW Facebook page or on the lk website. Use the email address.

One final comment: I plan on requesting George Shoup and John Chivington’s military records soon (there are other documents I need on Chivington and hopefully I can also obtain them). If I acquire the desired documents and have the time to study them, one of these two gentlemen will most likely be my next subject of inquiry. The above listed books, if I still have them, will not be listed in the next information quest.

— Louis Kraft