Errol Flynn, swords, Ned Wynkoop, & of course Louis Kraft opinion

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


Errol Flynn … long time gone? It might seem so, but trust me, dear friends, ‘taint so. ‘Taint so! He’s just been sleeping in Kraft’s head for the last three months. Actually he needs to sleep a little more before I return to him (and Ms. de Havilland) on a regular basis. My writing editors must also feel that Kraft has slowly sunk to Davy Jones’s locker, ne’er to return. Deadlines? What are they? In the past I made them, regardless if they were easy or if it took me months on end (back when I was a writer for the Dark Side) with three to four hours sleep per night day after day with no end in sight until the work delivered on deadline. The Wynkoop book fit this description to a tee. Beginning in December 2010, and this included a major car wreck on the 134 freeway at high speed that totally destroyed a Corvette two days before Christmas (the front end, engine and everything else under the hood, the left side, the rear, and the car frame cracked in half), I missed only one day of work for the Dark Side as there were deadlines to be met. Thank you? Hell, you’ve got to be kidding! Recovery? It took me a year (a year of multiple deadlines for both the Dark Side and the freelance side), but the recovery would never be complete.

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This is a self portrait that I created earlier this year to represent my trials and tribulations when I moved my internet and phone to AT&T U-verse. A major mistake: The phone would disconnect after 10 to 15 minutes and fully 30 to 50 percent of the time I had no internet. I can’t tell you how many technicians visited or how many phone calls I made (on one the calls to AT&T the phone and went dead and they made no attempt call back). … The answer was always: “It’s your computers.” “How come everything worked with my former provider and wi-fi works everywhere except in my house?” My words never sank in until the umpteenth technician again confirmed that all the wires and equipment worked perfectly. “So what’s the problem and how can you fix it?” “It can never be fixed for you are too far from our hub and it will worsen whenever another customer signs up and is closer to the hub.” After three months, that was my out w/o a financial penalty. …. Why this picture now? Because I’m being pulled in many directions, am not well, and daily find myself clawing just to stay with my nose and mouth above water. I’m a survivor and all will be well, but for my whining section of this blog this image seemed appropriate. (image © Louis Kraft 2013)

Sand Creek, Wynkoop, Geronimo? Kraft has learned how to become slow (it took years and years to get me to this point in my life). Hey, give me a break. Doesn’t good wine take years of aging? So does my writing. … I’m just a normal guy, and I have every intention of enjoying the flowers. Greg Lalire at Wild West and Chuck Rankin at OU Press understand this, and you should too. Aged writing is always better than speed-demon prose stolen from published and oft-times error-riddled tomes.

That’s right, many writers are lazy SOBs that do no real research. They survive by stealing from secondary books, and they make no effort to confirm the accuracy of what they are grabbing, and worse, oftentimes they make it sound as if the information is theirs (that’s right: they give no credit to the secondary writer they ripped off). … A sad state of affairs.

Kraft, what are you writing about today? Oh yes, Mr. Flynn swinging a blade.

Swords & Flynn
Swords and Errol Flynn go together. … Flynn was a graceful, athletic, sensitive (bet on it), and intelligent man who easily fit into anything that caught his interest. I don’t think “multi-tasking,” as we now know the term, existed in the 1930s and 1940s, but let me tell you that, term or no term, Mr. Flynn was adept at it. He made his life his.

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lk art of EF as Lord Essex in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939 release), a slow film because of Maxwell Anderson’s prose from his play Elizabeth the Queen (1930), which the writers, producer, and director made no effort to abandon or alter. Bottom line: a shame, for it could have been a much better film. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

Many of his critics haven’t acted and haven’t swung a sword, yet they spout out their expertise on what they have little knowledge. Mostly they’ve read books and reviews and repeat what they’ve read with little regard for accuracy of their (or their predecessors’) words. All they care about is that they’ve found mostly negative information that supports their premise, a premise they intend to build their expertise upon. A strong and not pretty indictment. Unfortunately ’tis all too true. I could name way-too-many books that pretend to be factual but in reality are little more than reprinted frauds, and worse they often invent quotes and create notes that have been pulled from the na-na land that we might call their brain.

Enter Ned Wynkoop
Ned Wynkoop? Those of you who read Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek know the connection between Wynkoop with Flynn.

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Wynkoop seeing a battle line of Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors in September 1864. Not a good moment for him. This Image first sees print in Wild West magazine (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

I bring up Wynkoop here only as I want to use one example that relates to the above section, an example that I didn’t find, but one that Greg Lalire, editor at Wild West magazine and my friend for many-many years, supplied to me. Greg sent me the following quote from a book he is currently reading in an email (22nov13):

“I’ve been reading a book called The Heart of Everything That Is about Red Cloud but it covers a lot of ground in the Old West. I know Wynkoop didn’t like Indians at first, but what do you think of this paragraph from the book?

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lk art of Bull Bear that will hopefully see print for the first time in August 2014. Bull Bear was an important player in Wynkoop’s life, and an even more important player in the Sand Creek story. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

“‘Fort Lyon’s new commander, Major Edward Wynkoop, was a friend of Chivington’s, and far less disposed than his predecessor toward differentiating between antagonistic and friendly tribes. He looked for any excuse to declare Black Kettle and White Antelope hostiles, and when he found none he simply refused their people food; returned their old muskets, bows, arrows, and knives; and ordered them off the premises. They were, he said, free to hunt in a limited territory bordering a stream called Sand Creek that fed into the Smoky Hill river about thirty-five miles northwest of the fort. The Cheyenne sensed a trap, but they were reassured that as long as Black Kettle flew the white flag of truce above his lodge next to an old American flag the Head Man had once received as a gift, no harm would come to them. Two days after the Indians departed, on November 28, Chivington arrived and Fort Lyon with two field cannons and 700 men of the Third Colorado Volunteer Cavalry….’ Nothing more is said of Wynkoop after that….”

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Wynkoop w/interpreter Dick Curtis on the Pawnee Fork in Kansas in April 1867. Art by Theodore R. Davis and originally published in Harper’s Weekly. (Louis Kraft Collection)

Of course I had to reply to Greg, but only partially as I could write pages and pages about the above quote: “The words from The Heart of Everything That Is gave me a good laugh for many reasons. I’m not going to waste my time with a lengthy explanation, but will say a few things. Wynkoop didn’t order the Indians to move farther away from Fort Lyon (he was already removed from command)—Maj. Scott Anthony ordered them away. And I don’t think Anthony told them where to go or where to hunt (at least I haven’t seen anything that states this). Wynkoop did not ask for the Indians’ weapons; Anthony did (but only for weapons they had taken from whites—no bows and arrows or knives), and Wynkoop certainly didn’t give the Indians their weapons back for he never had them. Wynkoop, after returning from meeting with the Indians on the Smoky Hill and they went to Denver (for the meeting at Camp Weld), was very favorable toward these Cheyennes and Arapahos—although he was still careful around them. … The entire paragraph is a joke. By reading it, I wouldn’t trust much else that is in this book unless there is solid proof of primary documentation.”

My next contracted book is Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, and the manuscript deals with this very subject in 130,000-word detail. Based upon one paragraph, The Heart of Everything That Is is so error-riddled that it is unquotable and won’t even make the Sand Creek bibliography. Before returning to Mr. Flynn, I want to close this section w/Greg L’s immediate reply to my email (which was longer than quoted): “Hey, I cringed when I read that about Wynkoop and I obviously know Wynkoop only slightly while he is your best friend. (Well, sort of, I guess). The authors of the book write with a certain flair, but they brush over many things (and I wonder how accurately they brush sometimes). I wonder how much time they have actually spent on Wild West material.”

In regard to Greg’s last sentence and the paragraph he sent me, nothing those writers wrote is valid for in that one short paragraph everything they wrote was wrong.

Swords & Mr. Flynn … continued
Graceful, when describing Flynn, is an understatement. Put Flynn on a horse, and it looked as if he and the horse were one. Place a sword in Flynn’s hand and it looked as if he had been wielding a blade all his life.

Why?

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Errol Flynn holds two sabres as he stands in front of his pool at Mulholland Farm and introduces a dueling demonstration (spring or summer 1945). His seated audience included Gary and Mrs. Rocky Cooper, among others. They were special guests for also on this day Flynn threw a big party to introduce his second wife, Nora Eddington, to the world. (photo: Robert Florczak collection)

Flynn was a great athlete who easily performed physical activities, but there was more. Ladies and gents, Flynn worked at his physical craft. Believe me, riding a horse and swinging a rapier takes practice and more practice. You don’t mount a horse and ride like you are one with the animal if you don’t put in the hours (and I don’t give a damn how good an athlete you are). Ditto the sword. You don’t duel competition or on film/stage without hours upon hours of practice and look good.

Flynn was lazy and didn’t work at his craft! Certainly this statement (or something like it) has been presented to us again and again in tomes written by writers that are less than expert at what they write about. Actually these writers, for the most part, have been little more than hacks that have created a premise and then have attempted to prove it (at times exchanging incomplete and inaccurate research for fiction to create quotes and notes that are as wild as some of the worse prose you’ve ever read in piss-poor fiction. This is nothing new to historical biography (maybe I’ll deal with this in a Wynkoop or Sand Creek blog). Trust me, Errol Flynn put in the time to master the sword for his screen performances.

Although not part of this blog, Flynn’s acting was good (and for the most part, he learned on the job), so good that it holds up well today. The reasons will be made clear in Errol & Olivia. Not to worry, for I’ll touch upon Flynn’s acting (as well as Olivia de Havilland’s acting) in future blogs. I can’t give you the bulk of the book, but I’ll be able to give you a taste—hopefully just enough to excite your curiosity.

Errol Flynn made 9 swashbuckling films, and yes he is known as a swashbuckler. Still, most people don’t realize that he worked in many genres of film: War (7), westerns (8), comedy (4), drama (I didn’t count), … there were adventures, film noir, mysteries. Well, you get the picture, he was capable of performing in different types of films. Of Flynn’s 9 swashbucklers, 4 are classics and are right at the top of anyone’s list of best 10 swashbucklers (2 are on my best 10 films of all time list).

Oh, by the way, there are two other film leading men that were good with a sword: Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and Stewart Granger.

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They join Flynn on the short list of being much better than the rest of the screen swordsmen, which includes Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., Tyrone Power, Cornell Wilde (who, I admit I haven’t seen swing a blade in decades, and you don’t want to know the reason) … all the way to so-called swashbuckling films of the last two decades (most of which survive off of filming doubles, using special effects, and making way too much of the action long shots). As the saying goes, if you can’t see the actor’s face, it isn’t the actor.

Three special mentions need to be made here: 1) Basil Rathbone, who was good with a blade in his hand and whom always looked good (albeit stiff: read, mechanical) trying to kill the hero on film—always,  2) Gene Kelly in the 1948 version of The Three Musketeers, and 3) The actors from three films created by director Richard Fleischer in the 1970s: The Three Musketeers (1973), The Four Musketeers (1974), and Crossed Swords (1977 or 1978) w/Oliver Reed (released in Great Britain as The Prince and the Pauper, and later on DVD w/this title).

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I never met Olivia Reed, but I did spend good time with Ernie Borgnine in Oklahoma City in April 2012, just months before his untimely death. Ernie was nothing like his screen persona; he was a kind, open, and giving person. Here Reed threatens Borgnine, who is the pauper’s father in Crossed Swords. Nothing but kudos from lk for this film.

Reed was in all three of Fleischer’s films (as was Charlton Heston), and he is by far the best actor swinging a blade in what are really farcical duels—the movements are so large and bold that a first-year fencing student in college could have easily won any of these filmed duels. That said, Reed, who unfortunately died young, looked good on film with the sword.

Conversely, Richard Chamberlain, an actor who has given us many good performances in a variety of roles, including three miniseries: Centennial (1978-1979), Shogun (1980)  and The Thorn Birds (1983) wasn’t very good with a sword in his hand. Chamberlain played one of the leading musketeers in both of Fleischer’s films. After the hit Dr. Kildare TV series in the 1960s he worked on his craft and became a very good actor.

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I’ve picked on Mr. Chamberlain, as he was just human, and not a good swashbuckler. That said, he is a surprisingly good actor. Here he is in an image of him as Cyrano during the key duel of the play. … I’m a firm believer in ad-libbing, that is playing the scene even though it isn’t progressing as written. … Playing the scene! Ladies and gents, this was something that Errol Flynn was very good at, but, alas, something that Chamberlain wasn’t capable of doing (at least not when I saw him act). Acting is doing; it is also living, and when an actor can’t do this on film or on stage, he/she hasn’t prepared properly. He/she doesn’t know his/her character. On that night decades ago, Mr. Chamberlain wasn’t Cyrano. All he was, was an actor, an actor that hadn’t prepared properly to portray a character. He was lost, and it was a sad sight to see.

Case in point. I saw him play Cyrano de Bergerac on stage at the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles (8th row center). During “the” duel his blade broke and an actor had to walk to him and hand him another blade (no improvising and avoiding being killed until he had another weapon—the action just stopped, and it wasn’t very good to start with). Worse, the entire duel was boring and anti-climatic. In other words, totally disappointing (especially so since Cyrano was supposed to be the world’s greatest duelist).

I had hoped to discuss in detail some of Flynn’s duels. Unfortunately during the drafting of this blog I changed my mind (blame it on taking too long to complete the blog, which in turn made me realize that I need to keep this information for E&O). My apologies.

I will say this, the dueling in Captain Blood (1935) was a combination of exciting shots/angles filmed on sand and rocks on the California coast. Some of this exhilarating, and some of it farcical. The farcical is not Flynn’s (or Basil Rathbone’s) fault, for they performed as choreographed. They slipped over wet and slimy rocks and kept their balance on the sand—some of this is very good, including Flynn’s death thrust to Rathbone.

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Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone dueling to the death on the beach in Captain Blood (based upon the first part of Rafael Sabatini’s great novel, Captain Blood: His Odyssey, 1922, and romantic illustrations by Howard Pyle and others in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. (lk collection)

That said, it is idiocy to swing blades that are thrusting weapons as if they are cutting weapons. Beyond that, Flynn’s swinging a thrusting blade like a saber but so high that all someone with a knife would have to do is duck, step in, and gut him. Again, not Flynn’s fault (but the dueling master’s). … BTW, the saber work on the ships is good.

The above said, Captain Blood is a great film for many reasons (not in this blog’s scope), as is The Adventures of Robin Hood (great for totally different reasons; again not in this blog’s scope). Sorry.

I’m going to say less about the dueling in Robin Hood, actually only two comments.

  1. No one, absolutely no one, can swing a broadsword as they were used in the film.
  2. If you can swallow the total misuse of the weapons and enjoy the dramatics of the sword fighting, the minor duel Flynn has with Friar Tuck (Eugene Pallette) and the major duel he has with Sir Guy of Gisbourne (Basil Rathbone) are magnificent.

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Both films and the duels will be dealt with in detail in Errol & Olivia.

BTW, the Oliver Reed-Mark Lester (as the prince and the pauper) film Crossed Swords is much closer to Mark Twain’s novel than the Errol Flynn-Mauch twins 1937 film (The Prince and the Pauper), and in my opinion, a much more satisfying film. That said, Flynn’s sword fight with Alan Hale at the end of the film was a huge improvement in his technique and form over the beach duel in Captain Blood. He now looked like he was a duelist and one to be avoided at the risk of loss of life. Graceful, deadly, but with a cocky panache that Hale’s evil captain of the guard would too-quickly learn, Flynn’s Miles Hendon marked his arrival as a swashbuckler and a suitor to share the Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., armor as “the swordsman.”

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EF duels in jest and with deadly intent if need be with Friar Tuck (Eugene Pallette) in The Adventures of Robin Hood. This duel is really well done and the actors (and the stuntmen) performed admirably. (lk collection)

Flynn’s Robin Hood would confirm this. Although Flynn would rub shoulders with Fairbanks up to and after his own death, with the arrival of The Adventures of Robin Hood in ’38 there really was no comparison. Fairbanks bounced around on film, and he constantly swung the blade, but I would rate him with B-actors in the “talkie” swashbucklers of the late 1940s and early 1950s. What linked Flynn and Fairbanks père was their “swashbuckling” success at the box office.

(Douglas Fairbanks fils, has already been mentioned positively above with Flynn and Stewart Granger. lk: I just got tired of using “Sr.” and “Jr.”)

An in-left field baseball comparison
The following is a way-out comparison, so bear with me. The best baseball pitcher I’ve ever seen was Sandy Koufax of Los Angeles Dodgers’ fame in the 1960s (he also pitched for the Brooklyn Dodgers, but one never knew where his pitches were going back then). No other pitchers have compared to him—none. He was lights out in LA on a team that couldn’t hit the baseball. Meaning he could throw a 1 or 2 hitter with 1 walk and lose the game 1-0.

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The white-haired Duke is batting in an old-timers game at Dodger Stadium in 1980. The Dodgers kindly allowed me to use this image in an 1985 Article, “The Duke of Flatbush” for Sports Parade. This signed image is from the magazine cover (I cropped out the magazine’s name, which was in a separate box above the image). In 1985 I pitched Snider to do a book about his life, but like most of my life I was a day late and a dollar short for the Duke had already signed a contract with writer Bill Gilbert (The Duke of Flatbush was published in 1988). I have a lot of the Duke’s autographs, for in the mid- to late-1980s it looked like my writing career would focus on baseball. The above artwork is by the BB artist Dick Perez (who allowed me to use his great art of the Duke from the classic 1984 Donruss BB card set—not pictured here—in my “The Duke of Flatbush” article. I think my failure to land the Duke set me on track to write about race relations on the western frontier (no regrets, for people are our world—yesterday, today, and tomorrow).

If Sandy had had the Brooklyn team of Duke Snider (see above image), Jackie Robinson, Roy Campanella, Gil Hodges, and Pee Wee Reese hitting for him in his prime (and if his career was longer), he would have easily won 30 games in multiple seasons.

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This BB art card was from the 2nd edition of Diamond Classics (1983); Koufax was one of only a handful of players to make the set from his era. … Certainly Clayton Kershaw will be featured in a future blog (as will Koufax, Snider, and Bill Buckner).

The Sandy Koufax comparison to the rest of baseball pitchers (past and present, with possibly the exception of the Dodgers’ current gem, Clayton Kershaw) is what Errol Flynn’s swashbuckler was to the world of film—past and present (and there was/is no Clayton Kershaw in the Flynn equation). The only two swordsmen who are/were rivals in skill to him on film were Doug Fairbanks, Jr., and Stewart Granger, with a distant fourth perhaps being Oliver Reed. Basil Rathbone was very good with a sword, and perhaps would have done well in fencing competition, but alas, on film—and regardless of his skill with a blade—he was stiff, controlled, and worse, so concerned if his dueling stance and form was correct that one could never believe he’d win a duel. Perhaps, as Rathbone egotistically claimed, he could “kill Mr. Flynn whenever he wanted” (lk: This is a paraphrase.), but this is not quite true. Yes, most likely Rathbone might have defeated Flynn in fencing competition where points are scored (but let me tell you, in competition it isn’t always the duelist who strikes first who gets the point; it is the duelist who strikes legally who gets the point. Of course, in a real duel this fencer would be dead before he scored his legal point. My “point” here is this, I’ll take Messrs. Flynn and Fairbanks, Jr., and maybe Oliver Reed (not sure about Granger) over Rathbone in a duel to the death any day. Let me repeat that, any day.

Geronimo, Gatewood, & moving into the future w/my toon-hua

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


Although the Sand Creek contract has been signed and I am about to begin work on the manuscript, Gatewood, Geronimo, and Mexico have dominated and still dominate my life. But they share it and play second fiddle to the lady in my life. My kon-souy, who is my toon-hua. (To save you time trying to look up what these words mean, here’s the translation: My pretty lady, who is my honey/my love.)

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Certainly there is new artwork on Geronimo, but there is none on Charles Gatewood. Since this talk featured Mr. G. & Mr. G. I decided to use the Gatewood & Geronimo dust jacket. BTW, I created the artwork on the dust jacket (art © Louis Kraft 1999). Long time gone. When I pitched it to editor-in-chief, he told me he wanted it in black & white. Surprisingly he liked the art, but then asked me to deliver it in color. I said, “Sure, fine, … but I need to start from scratch.” Too late; way too late as the book was now in production. Looking back, and I’ve been doing this for a long time now, I could recreate this piece—which depicts one of their night watches during their stressful return to the U.S. in August 1886—and improve the work 10-fold or more. Most likely this will never happen. That said, I have a major rediscovery of people, race, time & place that for 10 years dominated my life. The hope is that this rediscovery is not fleeting, and will again re-enter my life in the future.

Pailin Subanna joined me when I stepped back into my past and walked once again with Mr. G. & Mr. G., who have played such a large role in my Indian wars writing life. To be exact, two books and three articles when on September 26 I spoke about “Gatewood’s Assignment: Geronimo” to a large assembly of members of the Order of the Indian Wars (OIW) in Tucson, Arizona. It was the 10th time I spoke about these important people in my life; one of four talks that kicked off a three-day event that tracked Geronimo in the U.S. If it was my swan song as a speaker, I’m good with it. Unfortunately I have no photos of the talk (Daniel A. Martinez, host & historian-in-residence, at The Discovery Channel, took numerous photos and he’ll share some of them in the future). During the 26th Mike Koury allowed me to introduce Pailin to the full house. It was her first Indian wars event.

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This is my lady on the morning of September 26, 2013 (the day of the Gatewood/Geronimo talk in Tucson, Az.). 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.” I did, and when she sees this image she’ll probably hit me once or twice. Love taps no matter how hard they are, for this image is worth 1000s of words. (photo © Palin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

The Arizona trip was the first that Pailin and I shared. Our relationship was really in good shape before the trip. The time we would spend together cemented our future. No small words. …

The talk was taped. When I see it, sometime later this year, I hope I’ll be able to figure out how to convert it and post it on the website. To date, this is something I have not been able to do with OIW DVDs. I plan to push and question until I learn how to prepare this talk for showing on the internet as soon as the talk arrives, probably in November.

Pailin and I didn’t join the tour. But instead of driving straight home, as had been the original plan, we took a small side trip. In other words, we took the long way home.

What’s Upcoming
Before sharing a little of the trip, a small update is in order:

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    This is a small detail from Geronimo artwork I hope to complete for Wild West magazine. As of late it seems that all of my articles for the last year+ have been delivered drastically over the promised date. I hate excuses, so none are forthcoming, other than to say that this piece on Geronimo may be my last. With that thought bouncing around in my brain I have been in no hurry to complete the work. (art in progress © Louis Kraft 2013)

    The Ned Wynkoop/horse painting is finally making decent progress (it needs to be submitted with photos/art for an article of him meeting Black Kettle on the Smoky Hill in Kansas for the first time in September 1864).

  • The Geronimo article is almost complete. The photos and art are in place except for a new piece on Geronimo that I began the other day (I’m sharing about 20 percent of the art here). This is a work in progress, which I think will require several more days to complete.
  • There is also a Wynkoop/U.S. government article that is almost ready for submission.

The above sums up my present magazine-writing life. It also announces two swan songs for most likely the next three years and perhaps my entire future.

Swan songs? Alas, yes.

Swan songs

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This is the counterpart image to the one of Pailin (above), for I am wearing the shirt and pants she ironed for me. I’m perhaps the world’s worst packer; anything I throw into a suitcase will be wrinkled when I reach my destination. I should say that I’m an experienced man with an iron (some may say dangerous), which dates so far back that it is certainly something I’m not going to share. It is late morning on September 26 and my lady and I are getting ready for the OIW event. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

LIfe goes on, and as it moves into the future it changes. What matters and is now important has replaced what once had been but no longer is, perhaps never to return.

Swan song no. 1: The above articles may be the last articles I ever write. Certainly for the next three years, or whenever Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway manuscript is delivered (it is due on October 1, 2016). Optimistically I will beat the deadline. Then it will be a matter of what books are in the pipeline and how close they are to completion. During the writing of Sand Creek, progress will continue on Errol & Olivia and with luck Navajo Blood will also be close to publication. If yes to both, they will take precedent over any magazine articles. I have already alerted Chuck Rankin (editor-in-chief at OU Press) what my next Indian wars book will be. As soon as I have enough primary source material to create a story idea and If Chuck buys in, when Sand Creek enters the production chain, the next nonfiction Indian wars book proposal will begin. When Errol & Olivia goes to press (and I expect this to be close to the Sand Creek publication date), I will begin work on the 2nd Errol Flynn book (which, egotistically, will be the best book I write). As these books are my no. 1 priorities, you can see why my magazine writing may have come to an end.

Swan song no. 2: The ending of talks, as mentioned above, is not a threat. That said, it is directly related to my current financial situation. All talks in the future will be for my full salary and with all expenses. My biggest supporters over the years have been the U.S. government and the state of Kansas. But with the continued downturn of finances of federal and state governments (all of which can be directly associated with a fake war and the drastic monetary consequences that followed and have pounded many of us—certainly me; every time I think of the cash gone and the potential dollars that have vanished, I get palpitations).

The LA Times (see below caption), a dark side without end, & pleasure

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If you don’t know Walt Disney’s Scrooge McDuck, or Donald Duck and his three nephews (Huey, Dewey, and Louie) and the adventures they globe-trotted through when they combated the infamous Beagle Boys, you don’t know what you have missed. In a time long gone, the Scrooge and Donald comic books that featured them, their nephews, and the bad boys were must-read adventures. … In David Lazarus’s great column, “Wealth gap only getting worse” (LA Times, October 11, 2013, Business section, page 1), he writes: “The richest 1% own nearly half of all global wealth. … Only a tiny fraction of the roughly 7 billion people in the world accounts for 46% of the estimated $241 trillion in money, property and other material resources available. The richest 10%, meanwhile, can claim 86% of global wealth, leaving 90% of the world’s population to divvy up whatever’s left.” If possibly true, … a sad state of affairs. Lazarus’s column is must-reading twice a week, and, along with David Horsey’s political cartoons (alas, only once a week), make the Times a cheap thrill at 50 cents per week (yep, 50 cents for 7 issues per week—a steal at today’s outrageous prices).

We punish war criminals the world over, but U.S. war criminals (unless they are in the lower echelons of the military; read captains, lieutenants, and your basic soldiers) largely go unpunished. 

Add that the robber barons that suck the blood and life out of our once glorious country also go mostly unpunished, … seldom is a megastar of the business world sacrificed and then only to put forth the false belief that the U.S. judicial system is fair.

If the U.S. ever loses a world war, heads will roll; if the U.S. experiences a second civil war, heads will roll. Not events I want to see, but I do want to see criminals punished.

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Pailin just prior to the Order of the Indian Wars talks that kicked off the three-day tour that tracked Geronimo. She is in the courtyard of the Radisson Suites, and is about to enter a world she has no knowledge of, a world of people she doesn’t know. I caught a pensive moment on film. She is present as she wants to enter my world, and I want her there. These days would prove to be the most important of our time together for we realized that we were totally comfortable with each other at all times. You don’t know what I’m talking about for I’m again being vague. Trust what I’ve said for ’tis the truth, and our time together since has proved this. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

This dark prose by me is not fed by anger. Not at all. Just the opposite, I love giving talks. They have always been a big thrill in my life. Always, as juices slice through me and turn me on whenever talking. Talks are pure pleasure—a one-shot at doing something. Dodging bullets may be a thrill if you survive; for me surviving a talk is a thrill. … I hate resumes and aren’t real good at keeping them up to date. Just now I wanted to know how many talks I’ve given on Mr. G. and Mr. G. over the years. The most recent freelance resume I could find was created in 2008, almost 5 1/2 years ago. I believe that the Tucson talk was the 10th I’ve delivered that dealt with G&G. If the Tucson Gatewood/Geronimo talk was my last, it was a good talk to end on. … And I’ll be forever grateful to my good friend Mike Koury for bringing me to Arizona and welcoming my lady to his OIW event.

A journey to the heartland
Just so you know, I am totally misusing the word “heartland.” Hopefully the following sections aren’t vague and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

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The OIW talks on September 26th have ended. Pailin has met Layton Hooper, Daniel Martinez, Dan Aranda, Mike & Dee Koury, and has been introduced to the gathering. I’ve increased my friendship with Bernd Brand. We have changed, and are about to enter the pool area of the Radisson Suites, where most everyone is eating their dinner of hamburgers and hot dogs, to say goodbye. Brand and I had had several good talks during the day and he wanted us to join him, but we were off to the Bangkok Cafe, which he said he often visited. Like other friends in my Indian wars network, he has opened his home in Tucson to us with open arms upon a return visit. …. The Bangkok Cafe proved to be a terrific choice, much better than the southwestern restaurant we tried the previous night—too bad it isn’t in LA. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

Those of you who have followed my blogs know how I met Nuch (her nickname); other than this instance, I’m calling her by her name, Pailin, in this blog as she had requested that I use her first name when I introduced her to the OIW. When I asked Pailin if she’d like to go to Tucson, she surprised me and said yes, but wanted to see a little of Arizona. I called Mike K., and he immediately welcomed her. Instead of driving home on the night of the 26th as planned, and although not in the budget we planned a couple of days that interested Pailin.

The best part of the trip was that we were together.

You’ve got to realize that we’ve moved slowly getting to know each other, became friends, then best friends, and now are moving into our future. She knows more about me than any of you. Perhaps all of you put together (oh yes, there is much that isn’t public). We are at one with each other and it doesn’t matter what we are doing, where we are, or if we are silent or talking.

Over the course of the six-day trip, we traveled 2488 miles (and that included a day in Tucson when the Vette only traveled a few miles to go out to dinner and one day in Las Vegas, Nevada, when the car didn’t move), so basically we did all the driving in four days. Good times.

Some of the land we rode through or passed over is desolate (an understatement), making me wonder if anyone that attempted to cross some of this land 150-200 years ago, did any of these bold adventurers survive their journey?

Guidon Books (Scottsdale, Arizona)

Shelly and Gordon Dudley own and run Guidon Books in Scottsdale, Arizona. I had met them sometime after Shelly’s mom, Ruth Kantor Cohen passed away.

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lk w/Shelly Dudley (image at right) at Guidon Books on September 27. … Of course the best way for a bookseller to win a writer’s heart is to stock his books. Guidon Books has always done this. Shelly still stocks all of my nonfiction work, and I signed them for her. My books have always been over-priced, which I hate. That said, Custer and the Cheyenne continues to gather kudos, the two Gatewood-Geronimo/Apache books have become classics, and in a recent review historian/novelist Thomas McNulty called the Wynkoop book a masterpiece (humbling me). Prices for pristine first editions of G&G are now over $100.00 and the Gatewood Memoir is creeping to three figures. (photo © Pailin Subanna and Louis Kraft 2013)

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Pailin w/Mr. G at the front of Guidon Books. You are seeing this petite explorer in her element, and that is living the moment wherever she is. Unfortunately every angle we attempted to take of this image had the glare in the window. (photo © Pailin Subanna and Louis Kraft 2013)

Ruth and Aaron, who outlived his wife by almost 10 years, played key roles in my Indian wars writing life. Without a spirited conversation with them (I think in 1995), wherein I learned of the Charles Gatewood Collection at the Arizona Historical Society in Tucson, there would have been no Gatewood/ Geronimo/Apache books. Custer and the Cheyenne (Upton and Sons, Publishers) opened the nonfiction book world to me, but it was Gatewood & Geronimo that gave me name recognition. Ruth’s life unfortunately ended too early and she never saw the publication of G&G. Aaron did, and our long-distance friendship blossomed. I can’t tell you how many happy hours I spent with him in his shop. He was open, friendly, and boy did he have stories to tell. Perhaps he liked that I didn’t play by the rules (BTW, I am a firm believer that once you know the rules, you can break them) and had no fear to stand for what I wanted. If I didn’t see eye to eye with a publisher or they with me, they would soon be in my rear-view mirror. Adios amigo! A year or so before Aaron moved on, Bruce Dinges, who plays a key role in Arizona’s history, said to me: “Aaron Cohen loves you, he just loves you. Why?” I didn’t have an answer. Thinking about this over the years, I think it was because Aaron was a rebel and so am I. We were kindred spirits. If I had lived in the Phoenix area or he in LA, we would have been close buddies. … Shelly, Gordon, their sons, and a young lady with red hair (another grandchild?) began helping Aaron at Guidon Books.

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Pailin w/the soldier that has greeted visitors to Guidon Books for as long as I can remember. When we walked into the store her eyes devoured him. After saying goodbye to Shelly she held my arm and pulled me to a halt at the soldier. I knew what she wanted, a photo with this soldier. On this day it looked as if he had a little problem with is spine (age catches up with all of us). Two regrets here: We didn’t take photos of the interior and the store front, which is extraordinary. Next time. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

Pailin and I made a detour on our journey northward to visit Shelly (unfortunately Gordon was elsewhere) at Guidon Books, which had moved several blocks a few years back. “Great” is an understatement, for the new store floored me. Guidon Books had been my favorite book store back in the day, and believe me it still is. If you are into the Indian wars, Indians, gunfighters, the American West, or the Civil War, do yourself a favor and visit Guidon Books (7109 E. 2nd Street, Scottsdale, Az.).

Shelly gave Pailin and myself a tour of Guidon Books. This trip wasn’t a “buying” trip as the money was tight, but if it had been I could have easily spent the rest of the day looking at books. In years past, I had crossed paths with Shelly and Gordon often, but with me moving away from the Apache wars, cutting back on trips to Arizona, and ending my attendance at WHA conventions, this was the first time I’ve had to hang out with Shelly in way too many years. It was just like old times. Whenever you see a good friend, time slips away and it is just like last week. Didn’t want to leave.

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The walkway to the cliff where Montezuma Castle can be seen is peaceful and loaded with plants and trees. Yellow is Pailin’s favorite color and these flowers immediately caught her attention. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

Montezuma Castle National Historic Site (Arizona)
Driving northward toward I-40 I had a brainstorm about visiting the Sinagua Pueblo ruins, which is a stone’s throw east of I-17. A short side trip and Pailin was all for the visit. This land is peaceful, quiet, and I always enjoy walking the small grounds.

psMontezumaCollage_27sept13_wsShe did too. I told her, that if she wanted in the future I’d take her to ancient ruins (Anasazi and others) that she could step onto and into. An experience that always thrills me. If I live long enough, there is a novel, a modern-day novel, that will deal with the Anasazi, ritual, cannibalism, and the human experience (working title: Muse Eternal). The backside of my life has arrived and with it my most creative time and the happiest days of my life. I know—finally—who I am, where I’m going, and the lady who is going to be with me during every step of the journey. A good feeling.

Williams (Arizona)
Over the years, Williams has been a resting stop for me on countless trips into the West; trips to the Navajo Rez, Denver, Co., Fort Larned, Ks., Santa Fe and Albuquerque, N. Mex., and elsewhere. As often as possible I’ve stayed with friend and great novelist Gary McCarthy and his pretty wife Jane.

psWilliamsCollageBorder_27sept13_wsAlways good times, as we catch up and discuss projects, eat good food, and enjoy wine as we talk long into the night. The following morning is always easy as we enjoy each others’ company. Gary and Jane weren’t available during this trip, which, as it turned out, was good as we—especially Pailin—needed rest. Before an early night to bed Pailin wanted to explore Williams. We snapped some fun photos, and before returning to our lodging I introduced—really introduced—Pailin to chile verde. I’m a wimp when it comes to Indian (India) and Korean hot sauces, but, believe it or not, Thai hot sauces are fine if I avoid the chile peppers and stick to the juice. Chile verde is to die for, but it was a mite too hot for my lady that night. Guess I’m not a wimp after all.

South Rim of the Grand Canyon (Arizona)

Up early on the 28th and on the road. A short drive got us into the canyon, and on this day entry was free. I should say a few words about Pailin here. She is an adventurer in the mold of the English pirate Francis Drake and the American frontiersman Kit Carson (this is a major compliment by me for these are two of the mere handful of men I respect throughout history, and she can easily walk, ride, or sail with them and be right at home).

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Rod Taylor as Francis Drake and Jon Hall as Kit Carson. Hey Kraft, what’s up? Just this: You can count the major players in my writing life on two hands. What you didn’t know was that the pirate Francis Drake and the frontiersman Kit Carson are included in the 10 historical people I respect because I hadn’t written about them yet. Their time is coming. Bet on it. Mr Carson is up first, and my first book dealing with him is already in progress. Books on Drake will follow. Okay, …. good! What about Pailin? How do these fellows tie in with her. Simple. They were explorers that had no fear of venturing into the unknown. Ditto Pailin. She was created in the mold of Drake and Carson. I’ve been bold and perhaps have placed myself in situations that should have been avoided, but weren’t (if I had to compare myself to an animal, it would be a mountain lion, for I am a survivor who has to date landed on his feet as the cat lives pass). Pailin has that adventurous spirit that places her with Drake and Carson for she has had the daring to make decisions that set her on a trail of world exploration that I never even fantasized about. Pailin has a courage that I can only dream about, for she is a true person of the world.

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Pailin wanted to again visit the Grand Canyon, and that is why we drove to Williams (she first visited in December 2012). I hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon since the dark ages, and it has changed (to the better). … We had just gotten off the bus that transported us to the Bright Angel Trailhead when Pailin saw two fawns eating in a meadow. As she moved close to them, I zoomed in on the fawns and snapped a photo. Wanting a closeup of Pailin with them feeding at the edge of the shade in the background I closed on my lady, but two humans were one too many for the fawns and they moved away. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

Let’s take the previous caption a little farther (but while I do, I want to share a special Pailin as she returned to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon). … My misplaced boldness has far too often placed me in flashes of time and place that pushed beyond where I wanted to go. Next to my lady, I’m a child in play-actors’ clothing. She is the bold one, the one with no fear. She is truly an explorer in the full meaning of the word. The trail she has blazed makes mine pale in comparison. That she has entered my life is unbelievable. I couldn’t have a better soulmate.

Like I said, our time was short as we had miles to travel and a short time to cover them. We made the best of our time, and I saw a piece of Grand Canyon that I had no idea existed 25 years previously (if indeed it existed back then).

Las Vegas (Nevada) and a return to …

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Pailin enjoying carrot juice early in the AM on 29sept13 as she looked southwest out of our window at Excalibur. She is ready for the day’s venture. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

We arrived hours late to Excalibur near the south end of Las Vegas Blvd., and I feared us getting stuck in a smoke-filled room. My conversations with the hotel moved from lies (“You can call this number to ensure a non-smoking room.”) to a long-long talk that perturbed me (I was told, and it took 10-15 minutes, that it would be first come/first serve on the non-smoking rooms even though our room was confirmed and paid for). Black mark no. 1 for the Excalibur. A safe wasn’t in the room, the hard-connection didn’t work for the internet, and the TV didn’t work. Actually no big deal (we easily dealt with no safe, could live with no internet for two nights, and during the entire trip I watched a total of perhaps 5 minutes of TV and Pailin saw zero TV). We enjoyed good food, but not at Excalibur. Oh, we did have a non-smoking room (and the room was fine). … No matter for we didn’t drive to Nevada to see Las Vegas.

… adventure

skywalkGC_maverickHelicopter_29sept13_wsThe next morning (29sept2013) we would realize that an important reservation was also built upon several phone calls of lies. That said (and I will pound a little below), the thrill was real (but not nearly close to what we expected).

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Pailin standing next to the Maverick Airlines helicopter at the airpot in Henderson, Nevada on 29sept13. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft @2013)

Who cares, … for we were together and doing something we both love—experiencing an event and land we’d never seen before.

A truck/bus picked us up at the Excalibur rotunda the next morning. A short drive to Henderson, Nevada, check in, and we boarded our Maverick Airlines helicopter with the pilot (Greg) and five other people. Ladies and gents if you have never taken off in a helicopter, it is a cool experience. Pardon the short diversion (which is mostly stolen from Facebook):

I had had an opportunity to get on a helicopter back in late 1979 when I worked on a film called Raise the Titanic (based upon a best-selling novel but the final film was a bore).

ps&lk_GChelicopterMontage_29sept13_wsRichard Jordan played the leading character (I doubled for him). We spent two weeks (12 days) sleeping and partying at Hotel del Coronado (down San Diego way). My room was right on the dock. Each morning (can’t remember exactly when, but between 4:00-5:00 AM we went to sea in a fleet of small vessels. Think it was about a two hour voyage out to two major Naval vessels (the lead-player ship was a nuclear helicopter carrier). I spent all my time on this vessel (and explored it completely). The Naval vessels then spent another two-three hours going farther out to sea (double this for the return trip each night, and we didn’t get back to land until 9:00 PM or so, and I had some eight or ten hours on salary for hanging out and having a blast). … One afternoon the script called for Jordan’s character to board a helicopter on the ship. This would be me. Only two problems: 1) We were moving through a heavy sea and the ship was rocking, rolling, and bouncing through the water and 2) The winds were strong. I told the director and assistant director what it would cost. They refused my money demand and I told them that I wasn’t getting on the helicopter as I didn’t want to be aboard when it took off and then flipped into the sea. They recruited a sailor, a makeup artist put a beard on his face (Jordan and I had real beards), and he did what I considered a stunt for free. Luckily there were no problems and the helicopter took off and later landed on the ship safely. In my opinion, I made the right decision. The helicopter rides in Nevada-Arizona (to and from) were smooth and an absolute blast.

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View of the Grand Canyon w/the Colorado River snaking through it. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

It’s a great feeling to be flying so low to the land (between 1500 and 1800 feet). Although we were in the air for about 90 minutes total, the two flights were way too short. I could have spent the day up floating/zooming across the land (average speed was 150 mph). Actually, I would have liked to have been lower to the ground during the flights, but that wasn’t to be.

ps&lk_HualapaiREZmontage_29sept13_wsWe flew over the Hoover Dam, traversed Lake Mead (supposedly the largest man-made lake in the U.S.), reached where the Colorado River flowed from the Grand Canyon into Lake Mead, but then unexpectedly reached the west side of the canyon where the Skywalk was located (which, when you consider how long the canyon is, we saw way too little of it from the air).

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Pailin and lk on the Skywalk. We took our time and enjoyed it. (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

With a little over three hours on the west side of the canyon (two major locations that short drives connect with the airport) on the Hualapai Indian Reservation, we had enough time to explore at our own pace. The Skywalk was a must see for us. It was nice, but not as dramatic as I thought it would be. It did have a protective railing (see photo), but this was the only railing we saw on the Rez. The land is rugged; the stone is slick and at times slippery. Add winds that can gust at times and it is a wonder that more visitors haven’t tumbled to eternity. Adiós amigos. Vaya con Dios.

Pailin explores the world around her with a positive enthusiasm that is unending. So full of life! Unbelievable—this is my lady. I’m in heaven with her. … The Arizona trip was the first of what will be many trips we’ll take together.

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The return trip was not as Viator (the booking company) representatives told me during two long phone conversations detailing the flights. Instead of returning to Henderson, Nevada, by retracing the initial flight the pilot flew over land so desolate that it was an amazing sight to see. Regardless of the breathtaking panorama, I wasn’t pleased with Viator’s faulty information. BTW, you are again looking at the Colorado River. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

Geronimo & Gatewood together again + an EXPLOSION of opinion

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


I know that my mind meanders all over the place. Unfortunately all the time. … My lady and my daughter always head the list—always.

Currently Gatewood and Geronimo dominate. I’ve got what I consider a major talk on them approaching quickly. Way too quickly. If you knew how I approach talks and prepare for them you’d have a major heart attack.

What about Ned Wynkoop, Black Kettle, Charley Bent, Tall Bull, Left Hand, John Chivington, Sand Creek, Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, … slave labor? SLAVE LABOR? Stop!!

Will I address slave labor here? Don’t hold your breath. …
Perhaps on another social media.

As for Ned, BK, Charley, TB, LH, Chiv., Sand Creek, and E&O,
not too worry for they’ll return in October.
(Actually Ned has some wordplay below.)

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Artwork in progress of Geronimo. … I want to mention a person I met earlier this year (long distance) who is a filmmaker/director. His name is Dustinn Craig. In 2009, PBS Home Video released We Shall Remain: America Through Native Eyes, a collection of five documentary films. Dustinn directed Geronimo. It is a good film (let me repeat this: It is a good film.). He is currently working on a film that deals with White Mountain Apache scouts, and has kindly shared over 20 minutes of film with me. All I can say is, “Wow!” If his final film matches what he currently has, it is going to be extraordinary. Unfortunately I don’t have any images of Dustinn to share but hope to someday, for I know that I’ll be speaking about him in the future. Dustinn has shared great information with me that is his copyrighted data that he doesn’t want shared. I certainly understand and agree with this. He has also pointed out to me that Geronimo is not a hero among many Apaches (and Dustinn has an inside track for he is a White Mountain). Dustinn, thank you for a point well-noted. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

‘Course, Mr. G. is my guy, and has been since I discovered him in the mid-1990s. No one—no one—compares to him. Not Black Kettle, not Roman Nose, not Tall Bull. Yep, all Cheyennes. That must tell you something about me and my close connection to the Cheyennes (they’re special). Let’s not forget Bull Bear, Little Robe and others, … and definitely include Mo-nahs-e-tah (how her name is phonetically spelled, and it is about time people begin pronouncing her name correctly).

Before moving on, I want to make one thing clear—the Apaches are also special. And the leader of the pack is Mr. G.

Names and how they are pronounced
I need to speak about Mo-nahs-e-tah, and I will soon. Count on it!

Most of you pronounce my name correctly. A few of you don’t, and I don’t think you have speech impediments.

My name is “Louis” and not “Louie” or “Luis.”
I take offense when people who are supposedly my friends
mis-pronounce my name on purpose. It isn’t because their
tongues don’t function, it is because they have no respect.
Maybe I should begin calling them “Sissy-poo.”

Geronimo: An American Legend
In December 1993 I saw Geronimo: An American Legend with Wes Studi playing Mr. G. and Jason Patric playing the other Mr. G. (Lt. Charles Gatewood). I liked the grandeur and scope but I hated the lack of character focus in the film. The writer(s) and director couldn’t figure out who the film was about. Worse—although I didn’t know this at the time—they decided that fiction was better than fact; too many people buy into this bullshit, including director John Ford. Ford supposedly said something like, “If you have the choice between fact and legend, print the legend.” At best, this quote is a paraphrase (at worse he never said it), for I made no attempt to confirm it. I don’t agree with Mr. Ford, for often fact is much more interesting than legend. That doesn’t mean that “legend” doesn’t play well on film.

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Geronimo (Wes Studi) and Lt. Charles Gatewood (Jason Patric) await the approaching Tombstone posse (read: lynch mob). Geronimo wants Gatewood’s binoculars as they are better than his and offers a turquoise rock (valuable to the Apaches). They are about to shoot at the approaching Tucson posse, and it is Geronimo’s first shot that wins the day. Although I hadn’t thought about it, this scene actually is the backbone to the Geronimo article I’m trying to create at the moment. This event never happened in Geronimo’s life, so I’m not reveling much here. This is a German lobby card from Geronimo: An American Legend (1993). The Germans do much better film publicity than the USA, and they’ve doing this since the late 1940s. … Anyway, a great scene that never happened in real life. lk collection.

The three best scenes in Geronimo: An American Legend are 1) When Geronimo and Gatewood shoot at the Tombstone posse at the beginning of the film, 2) Gatewood accepting an Apache warrior’s challenge and killing him in single combat, and 3) Gatewood’s shootout with scalp hunters in a cantina in Mexico (BTW, none of the people in the cantina scene were with Gatewood in Mexico in 1886). So what’s the problem? Just this: None of these events happened. Other than being perhaps 25 years too young, Wes Studi was perfectly cast as Geronimo while Jason Patric (as Gatewood) attempted to do a southern accent, but that was as far as his research went. And—AND—this film is total fiction in detail. If you buy any of this film and cite it, you’ve made a major error. End of subject. Again, per John Ford, let’s print the legend!!!! My humble opinion, pure bullshit for the simple reason that (at least in this case) reality is much-much more dramatic than fiction.

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Ned Wynkoop in 1867. Originally in Custer and the Cheyenne, published by Upton and Sons in 1995. (art © Louis Kraft 1990)

Not quite end of subject: George Armstrong Custer died at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876. Any film or book that has him surviving that battle is bullshit, … it is not printing the legend. Ned Wynkoop did not participate in the massacre of Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians at Sand Creek in 1864. Any film or book that places him at that tragical event is bullshit. A major miniseries of a few years back did exactly this. A great historian and a friend of mine justified this—he claimed that the merging characters and placing a real person in an event that he had nothing to do with is fair game. NOOO!!! YOU CANNOT TAKE A REAL PERSON AND PLACE THEM IN AN HISTORICAL EVENT THAT THEY DIDN’T PARTICIPATE IN. THIS IS NOT CREATIVE LICENSE, AND IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T PRINTING THE LEGEND. ALL IT DOES IS CREATE FALSE HISTORY THAT WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME REALITY AND CITED AS TRUTH IN THE FUTURE. I’m sorry folks, but this is a sore point with me. Let’s put it another way, I hate lies and I hate liars. As a filmmaker, historian, novelist, or playwright you can deal with Wynkoop and the events surrounding Sand Creek and Custer and the march to Little Bighorn and the battle that resulted in his death, but you cannot place Wynkoop at Sand Creek and you cannot have Custer survive Little Bighorn and make it appear to be truth.

Have any of you heard a recording of Orson Welles’s great 1930s radio
broadcast of a 
Martian invasion of earth? Even though the radio station
advertised that the dramatic presentation was fiction,
supposedly people committed suicide.
True? I don’t know.

Certainly the Wynkoop and Custer inaccuracies have happened in film and in fiction. Did the filmmaker or the novelist point out the untruth to the facts presented? The filmmaker didn’t (I haven’t watched any of his produced or directed films since and have no intention of watching any in the future). I’m too far removed from the novel (by the great western novelist Douglas C. Jones), but think Mr. Jones made it clear that his story was a “what if.”

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Jurgen Prochnow played the U-boat commander of U-96 in Das Boot (1982). Simply put, this is a great anti-war film, and Prochnow’s performance was under-played brilliance. I’ve seen him in a number of American films, and unfortunately the parts weren’t right for him. Like The Searchers, Das Boot is one of my favorite films. Das Boot differs from my “Wonder-boat” screenplay in that it details a single U-boat voyage while the screenplay had a larger scope. I hadn’t been aware of the film until touring The Prince and the Pauper in Northern California. I was living on the east side of San Francisco Bay when the film was released and saw it immediately. My agent loved “Wonder-boat” but had told me it was unsellable because of the subject matter. As soon I returned to LA I fired him. lk collection.

I read a great novel about 30 years ago that had Hitler survive WWII and become a model citizen. Great story telling. However, as soon as I finished reading the book (I don’t remember the author or the title of the book) I donated it to Vietnam Vets. Why? What if this is all someone reads about Adolph Hitler? They will think that he was a good person who had been maligned. No! No! He stood for genocide of races of people. This can never be condoned.

I’m not picking on Germans here. The best screenplay I ever wrote dealt with the destruction of Germany as seen through the eyes of a U-boat commander (who wasn’t a Nazi—many Germans were not members of the Nazi party) who was in love with a Jewish woman. It was a tragedy, for the simple reason that WWII resulted in horrific consequences for the German people, many of whom had nothing to do with the heinous crimes committed by Hitler’s regime.                                 

Let me put this another way. If someday a writer/historian places me at
the My Lai Massacre during the Vietnam war, he or she would be in error
for I have never been to Vietnam. Moreover, if I had been present
when that heinous crime happened, I would not have survived
(and you can guess why). … I should add this, if a writer does get creative
and places me at My Lai, he or she had better disappear pronto!
For as Kurt Russell (playing Wyatt Earp) said in
Tombstone (1993),
“Hell is comin’!

The bottom line (and this unfortunately includes nonfiction books) is that untruths and out-and-out lies become truths.

A John Ford opinion
John Ford made one great western, The Searchers (1956) with John Wayne and Geoffrey Hunter, and one good western, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949) with John Wayne. I’m not going to comment about any of Ford’s other western films, including Stagecoach and Fort Apache. My silence should give you a good guess of what my less than sparkling views of his western films might be. I have nothing further to say about Ford’s westerns, other than to say I’m certain I’ll not see any of them again, other than The Searchers and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. Why waste my time?

The Searchers is one of my favorite films.
John Wayne’s 
performance is extraordinary and will hold up for all time.

Why Gatewood & Geronimo?
In 1995 I signed copies of Custer and the Cheyenne at Guidon Books (my favorite bookstore) in Scottsdale, Arizona. BTW, Aaron and Ruth Cohen, who owned and ran Guidon Books, played a major role in my Indian wars writing life.

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On August 25, 1886, Lt. Charles Gatewood negotiated ending the Apache war with Geronimo and Naiche. This scene, from Geronimo: An American Legend (1993) is totally wrong. Gatewood (played by Jason Patric) has climbed up to Geronimo’s stronghold. One problem: Geronimo insisted upon meeting at a bend of the Río Bavispe where there was shade, grass, wood, and water. Do you see any of this here? Of course not! Also, note that Chatto (as played by Steve Reevis) is just reaching the top of the mount. One problem: Chatto wasn’t with Gatewood in Mexico in 1886. Again, another great German lobby card for the film. lk collection.

 On that 1995 day Ruth started a conversation dealing with recent films and how they impacted book sales. Tombstone with Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp and Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday had been a hit and greatly influenced book sales while Geronimo: An American Legend had not done well at the box office and didn’t influence book sales. Since I wrote about race relations and the Indian wars our talk focused on the Geronimo film.

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I wrote roughly 2/3 of the words in the Gatewood Memoir. About a month and half before publication date, Mr. Big Shot (notice that I didn’t call him Mr. Big Shit) at U of NE Press decided to change credits, thinking correctly that I wouldn’t walk (as I could have due to the contract). Obviously my anger still seethes. So be it! Here are the facts, other than the U of NE Press formatting some of my words so that they appear as if Gatewood wrote them, and the nasty contract crap at the midnight hour, this book is by far my best selling book (and I’m proud of it, even though I’ll never write another word for the U of NE Press). Actually, I love it when Gatewood gets great reviews for his writing skills. Without bragging, I hacked the hell out of Gatewood’s passive text that included 100-word sentences and paragraphs that easily flowed over pages. A few years back my good friend Greg Lalire, editor at Wild West magazine, called me and said that Gatewood’s words in the Memoir didn’t match his words at the AHS. “Greg,” I said, “did you read the intro to the Memoir, which makes it clear that I edited Gatewood’s passive words?” “I did! I forgot. Sorry,” Greg said. Ladies and gents, let’s put it this way. Charley Gatewood had a great story to tell; he just didn’t know how to tell it. I helped him. BTW, I think this dust jacket is cool. Love it!

I told Ruth and Aaron that all I knew about Charles Gatewood and Geronimo was what I saw in the film. Ruth told me that the Arizona Historical Society (AHS) in Tucson housed the Gatewood papers. Even though I wasn’t thrilled about the film (I had seen it twice in theaters), the story had grabbed my interest. I needed to know more, and at this point I had no idea what the truth might be. At that time I wrote for a telecommunications firm in the South Bay (in SoCal). The following month I took a week off, drove to Tucson, and began to explore Gatewood and his world at the AHS. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Suddenly Gatewood became my next nonfiction book project. After a very rough first draft I realized something was missing. I thought for a week, maybe two. It hit me: Gatewood needed Geronimo. Suddenly the book had focus.

Custer and the Cheyenne put me on the nonfiction map and opened doors, but it was Gatewood & Geronimo that changed my presence in the Indian wars writing world. It made me a player and gave me name recognition. Dick and Frankie Upton at Upton and Sons and Durwood Ball, then editor-in-chief at the University of New Mexico Press, are probably the three most important people in my nonfiction Indian wars writing life. If it wasn’t for them I’d probably still be floating in a dark netherworld fighting to sell my nonfiction story ideas. All three have become my friends. My “thank you’s” are usually quiet when they should be public. Frankie, Dick, and Durwood—thank you.

That land of snow they call Colorado

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Layton Hooper and his wonderful wife Vicki in their backyard in Fort Collins, Co. They kindly put me up for 11 days in April 2013 when I visited the land of snow to give a Wynkoop talk for OIW and do Sand Creek research. Although snow storms eliminated much of my research time, it gave me the bonus of getting to hang out with Layton and Vicki and getting to know them. They were perfect hosts, making me feel welcome at all times. This image was taken fairly early on one of the mornings after the second snow storm had passed. To this point in time I didn’t have any photos of Vicki, and she kindly agreed to put on a coat and step outside with her hubby. … Layton is one of the key players in the Order of the Indian Wars (OIW), and will be one of the leaders on the tour tracking Geronimo September 27-29. See the Events tab for more information. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

In April 2013 I spent 11 days in this falsely advertised wonderland of 300 days of sunshine (Colorado). During my last two trips to this sun-filled salesman’s pitch I’ve been snowed in. If you want to see 300 days of sunshine, real 300 days of sunshine, visit SoCal. You want to see snow with no visibility, visit Colorado. … It wasn’t that many years ago that Colorado (read Denver), was a possible place for me to live. Colorado has great history (love it!), great people (love them), but 300 days of sunshine? Hell! You want the truth? I’ve got some ocean-front property in Arizona that I can sell to you at a reasonable price.

What is a talk?
A long diversion to get to this point. Sorry. More importantly why am I talking about Gatewood and Geronimo? I haven’t spoken about them in years. My first talk was about Ned Wynkoop back in the mid-1980s, and I have continued to talk about Ned. That said, believe it or not, it wasn’t until 2011 or 2012 that I actually spoke about Ned  more often than I did about G&G. Yep, I gave a lot of talks about them. But it ended when the Wynkoop book became reality. So why return to Mr. G. and Mr. G.?

Ned Wynkoop dominated the 1860s, even though the press, the military, and the government did everything possible to relegate him to the circular file. Why? Simple. He didn’t kiss their asses, and dared to speak out against what he considered the wanton murder of human beings—human beings that weren’t white.

gatewood_ftBowieMerge_wsThe Gatewood character in Geronimo: An American Legend says, “The Apaches are special.” And they are!

 

Mike Koury has been a friend since the 1980s. He has done whatever he could to help. When I visited the land of snow last April I spent a morning and afternoon with Mike. We lunched with his pretty wife Dee and hung out in his library/computer room. Good time. On that day I pitched Mike to talk about Gatewood finding Geronimo in Mexico for his OIW event in Tucson. I did this for one reason, and one reason only. Mike is one of those people who believes that the Indian wars begin and end with the Plains Indian wars. My sole goal for speaking in Tucson is to wake Mike up to the fact that the Apache wars are exciting times with much at stake (just like the Plains Indian wars).

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lk speaking at one of Dick and Frankie Upon’s symposiums in El Segundo, Ca. (art © Louis Kraft 2012)

Mike gave me a thumbs up.

My goal on September 26 is to get my facts as good as possible and not to put Mr. Koury to sleep.

Actually this has always been my goal when talking: Get the facts right and don’t put anyone to sleep.

I like giving talks. Actually, I like it a hell of a lot better than writing magazine articles. I like the one-shot to be good, boring, or deadly. There are no holds barred. It is one on one times X. The key is concentration, … preparation, relaxation, focus, and more concentration. Of course there are always “chilly twitching movements,” to quote Gatewood when he met Geronimo in Mexico and demanded his surrender. But they’re fleeting. There is a rush, an exhilaration, and a zone. When I enter this “zone,” it is another world. The only other thing that approaches this live thrill is performing on the stage (actually I like the stage better). A talk is a one-shot performance. Whatever happens can’t be changed.

Good progress on the G&G talk, but YIKES I’ve got to complete that damned Geronimo article for Wild West. Enough!

Sand Creek (update #2), Wynkoop, & 2 special people

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


Well here we are approaching the end of August 2013. Some—actually most—is very good, while some of you don’t want to hear about (or maybe you do, but I’m not tellin’). As you’ve seen in past blogs I like to mix and match subject matter. The reason is twofold: 1) This is how my brain functions, and 2) Writing is a continuous experiment. We have one other thing to add to this blog, … my life again has balance. I have great friends. Some close, some hundreds of miles away, and some thousands of miles away. I’m lucky. But although they play a major part in my ongoing life and growth, my life requires two key people (there are no surprises here).

Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway contract

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Obviously lk is happy, and this image represents my feelings. It was taken while I spent prime time at Fort Larned, Kansas, in September 2012. A lot of the time was spent with my good friend and Fort Larned chief ranger, George Elmore. He took this picture while I leaned against the reconstruction of Wynkoop’s home-U.S. Indian Agency that has been reconstructed at the post. During this trip I spoke about Wynkoop’s efforts to save the Cheyenne-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork (35 miles west of Fort Larned) when Maj. Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock threatened to destroy it in April 1867. I delivered the talk on the pristine village site, which is protected. I also represented Wynkoop when he was inducted into the Santa Fe Trail Association hall of fame. (photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

Great news: In mid-August Chuck Rankin, editor-in-chief at OU Press, and I worked out a Sand Creek contract that is acceptable to both of us. Since then OU Press has sent me the final contract. I received it on August 28, and saw one final fix that must be in place before I signed the contract. I emailed my request to Chuck and he got right back to me to hand write the change into the contract, initial the change, and send it to OU Press. I did. Bottom line: lk is one happy writer.

If you have read some of the previous blogs you know how much I like and respect Chuck. He has been the backbone to Sand Creek for years, and if it wasn’t for him this project would still be floating in na-na land while I tentatively dogpaddled through quicksand.

Oh yeah, if you didn’t know it, the Indian wars nonfiction field can be a minefield wherein one must tread carefully. I’ve already mentioned key people, friends who will become my bosom buddies over the next three years (contract term begins on October 1, 2013, with a polished manuscript delivery date of October 1, 2016). Doable! I’m sorry, but no contract details other than we have agreed upon 130,000 words. Am only going to mention one person here—John Monnett. John walks some of the same roads I do (not all, for our lives have been different), but we have a lot in common. John’s got fire plus a good sense of humor, not to mention a firm grasp on humanity. My only regret with John is that he lives in that far-off land of snow called Colorado. He would be a perfect fit for Los Angeles (if he sees this, I’m certain his head would bounce off the ceiling in his living room and that’s a long bounce).

sandCreekAttack_byLindreaux

This art by Robert Lindneux (dust jacket for Greene & Scott, Finding Sand Creek, 2004) is totally wrong. Every primary source I have seen discounts this art. I have total control over the images in the Sand Creek book, and there is no way this art will be on the dust jacket for Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. If the art director at OU Press even hints at this being on my dust jacket, he won’t have time to blink for I will be in Norman, OK, so fast he won’t have time to gulp in air.

Many of you know that Ned Wynkoop has played a key role in my development as a writer and historian over the years. He has not gone away. To the contrary, he will play a key role in the Sand Creek book. … As will Black Kettle and the Cheyennes, including—depending upon what I can find—Bull Bear and Tall Bull, and to a lesser degree other Cheyennes, such as Little Robe (and cross my fingers, Roman Nose if he drifted southward at this time), and Arapahos Left Hand and Little Raven (among others), and the Oglala Lakota Pawnee Killer (and if I get lucky and can link the great Crazy Horse to the central plains). …

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Southern Cheyenne Ivan Hankler. I met Ivan at a convention at Fort Larned, Kansas in spring 2004. We immediately hit it off and I spent most of my time with him during the two- or three-day event. During this time we hung out and talked (in his tipi and on the Fort Larned grounds). I learned a lot, but best of all gained a friend. This is my favorite image of him from 2004. During the event I spoke about Custer finding Stone Forehead’s village on the Sweetwater in the Texas Panhandle in 1869, and the peaceful negotiations that followed. Ivan didn’t think he could attend the talk, and I told him (and Kiowa James Coverdale) to attend, that they would be my guests. They did. Good times. Unfortunately Ivan has moved on; perhaps I shouldn’t mention his name and share his image here, but I decided to break the rules for he will always be a part of my world. (Photo © Louis Kraft 2004)

Those of you who read Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek (2011) know that I worked with Cheyennes. This association will not only continue to grow with Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway, it will include other key Cheyennes I know, like, and respect. Certainly John Chivington is a leading player, as are Rocky Mountain News publisher and editor William Byers and territorial governor John Evans. The Bents (William, George, and Charley) will have key roles, and, if I can find enough information, Edmund Guerrier will be featured. Indian agent Samuel Colley, Interpreter/trader John Smith, soldier/enemy to Chivington Samuel Tappan, and soldiers Scott Anthony, Silas Soule, and George Shoup (again depending on information) will have key parts. Yep, there is a lot of research staring me in the face (and some of it will be with people and institutions that I have not yet worked with). …

I can’t speak for other writers, but for me the hope is always that the next book I write will be my best. Certainly Chuck Rankin has worked closely to put me in a position to make this happen. We have played with a voice, and if I can control it, Sand Creek will bridge the gap between my earlier and later nonfiction. Will the prose border heresy? I hope so! Will it survive reviews? Ouch! Don’t ask. Only time will tell. Will the text be blue? Depends upon what I can get away with and what you consider blue. Will it be controversial. You can bet on it! Where I couldn’t push the envelope with Wynkoop, I intend to approach Sand Creek with both guns blazing.

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Here are some of the usual suspects that will play roles in Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. Ned Wynkoop and Silas Soule are kneeling in the foreground. Bull Bear is sitting left in the middle row and Black Kettle is sitting behind Wynkoop. In the back row, John Smith stands between Bull Bear and Black Kettle.

The Wynkoop contract allows me to write anything in any medium about him at any time; the Sand Creek contract limits what I can write in the future. These two contracts are both good for me even though they differ in what I can and cannot do. Chuck Rankin couldn’t remember how I landed the Wynkoop contract w/o limitations (simple: I wouldn’t sign it w/o an open slate to write what I wanted about him in the future). This future, in relation to Sand Creek, has changed. Chuck has rightfully stated that he must protect OU Press from me writing a competing manuscript to Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway. I totally agree with this. I don’t know what I’ll write about Ned Wynkoop in nonfiction book form (most likely nothing), but I had to protect that. This nonfiction book on Sand Creek will be the only one I write. This piece of the contract was important to Chuck and OU Press, and I agree with their view 100 percent.

All said, I’m going to have one hell of a good time writing this book. I’m thrilled. Period. I’m thrilled!!! The next three years of my life are going to be a wild ride of discovery. And like Errol & Olivia, I plan on sharing some of it with you. And there will be what I’m currently calling “information exchanges,” but they will have a different intent. The E&O quizzes focus on alerting you to who they are/were and what they did. The prizes will be dueling lessons (hey folks, I’m a poor writer and must be careful with what I give away). Here I hope to dig into people and actions with you, and the giveaways will be books.

Mr. Wynkoop updates

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View of the building that Ned Wynkoop rented from the post trader at Fort Larned, Kansas at the end of the 1860s. It served as both his home and as the Cheyenne-Arapaho Indian agency. Due to space limitations this (or another image) didn’t make it into the Wild West article. (Photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

A quick update on Ned, … The next article, “The NPS Has Rebuilt Ned Wynkoop’s Indian Agency Home at Fort Larned” will appear in the December 2013 issue of Wild West magazine. Editor Greg Lalire and I have completed our final fixes to the layout and copy edit. I’m pleased. It should be on newsstands in late (?) October.

I still owe Greg Wynkoop art for the August 2014 issue of Wild West, which features Wynkoop meeting Black Kettle for the first time in September 1864. it has been in progress for a long time, … and for a long time I have backed away from it. Why? Honestly, I’m a piss-poor artist who attempts to sell only because he likes to eat on an almost-daily basis.

This Wynkoop art is important because this is, from my point of view, an important article and I need illustrations for it. It is also important, for if I like the final product I intend on using it in the Sand Creek book (It will give critics that claim to be purists another Bowie knife to fling at me. Sobeit!).

Sand Creek information exchanges w/giveaways

These Sand Creek information exchanges will be different. Bear with me for a short while. Other than a few radio stations that deal with new music in Los Angeles (and air Rihanna and Lana Del Rey), most LA radio stations suck. Probably 85 percent of my time is spent on news and sports talk radio. ESPN AM 710 shines.

kobe&Vanessa_joeScarnici_gettyImage_laTimes_25aug13

This image of Kobe and Vanessa Bryant appeared in the Los Angeles Times on August 25, 2013.

Of course ESPN is Lakers-centric in Los Angeles (Kobe and the Lakers dominate). However, there is a good focus on USC football, and recently—and I mean real recently (the LA Dodgers have been a laughing joke since Kurt Gibson’s miraculous home run and Orel Hershiser’s pitching mastery during the 1988 world series—a golden moment in time that marked the beginning of the end of their careers). Until June 2013 the Dodgers were hard-put to find air time on ESPN AM 710. No more. They are now challenging the Lakers’ dominance (forget the Clippers, for they are little more than bridesmaid wanna-be’s until they win a championship). Hanley Ramirez, Yasiel Puig, and Clayton Kershaw (who is quickly placing his name next to the great Sandy Koufax) have taken LA by storm.

Back to the Sand Creek information exchanges. They will be like the phone calls to ESPN AM 710, in that they aren’t quizzes at all, but will be prizes awarded to the best comments based upon subject matter that I make public. I hope this isn’t obscure. If it is, ping me and I’ll try to clarify. For example I might create a discussion subject such as mixed-blood Cheyenne Charley Bent. He’ll be an open target, but whatever you say that is controversial you’ll need to back up with citation. I’m not looking for bad and I’m not looking for good. Rather, I’m looking for discovery. If you’ve read any of my nonfiction books you know that I don’t shortchange people who help my research. Yep, … that’s the key here. I’ll be looking to expand my knowledge of people and events. Again, I’m not looking for good or evil, or right or wrong, but what happened and who did what. You don’t have to provide complete details, but I would like a clear direction to where I can dig and discover what happened.

My hope is that the above will be different and that it will generate responses from you.

This entire website/blog has been an experiment to find and connect with you. It has also been an experiment for me to find out who I am and where I’m heading as a writer and person. To date I’m pleased with the results. I have no intention of backing off and hope to challenge both you and myself.

The prizes will be Indian wars books from my library but not Kraft books (sorry, but I’m a starving writer). They will be books that I probably won’t read or use again. This doesn’t mean they aren’t good books; all it means is that I won’t use them again and need to add space to my home that has grown terribly tight over the years. When this becomes reality I will announce the book titles and publication dates along with subjects that are hopefully of interest to you.

The future?

That’s it, other than to say that Sand Creek will dominate my writing life. E&O will advance, but all magazine article-writing will stop, as will all talks unless I receive my full salary and all expenses. Actually a sad state of affairs, my writing affairs, but this is nothing new.

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George Elmore at Pawnee Rock State Historic Site, Kansas, on September 21, 2012. A number of cool presentations of people who played roles on the Santa Fe Trail were performed by actors (including John Carson, who portrayed his relative Kit Carson). Unfortunately the Kansas sun was deadly that day. (Photo © Louis Kraft 2012)

One exception might be a break to be a writer in residence at Fort Larned, Kansas (an invitation, if still open, that is of great interest to me).

George Elmore, chief ranger at Fort Larned, has played a key role in my Indian wars writing life since we met in the early 1990s. In September 2012 I spent a lot of time with him during a major three-day Kansas event wherein I spoke about Wynkoop trying to prevent Maj. Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock from destroying a peaceful Cheyenne-Lakota village on the Pawnee Fork in Kansas on the protected and pristine village site (my favorite of all the key Cheyenne village sites). George shared stories about men and events that are right up my alley—men and events I had no knowledge of. If ever we can put our heads together and I have the opportunity to explore these stories, my writing will take on an entirely new direction while surprisingly stay the course with everything I have written in the past.

Two people

As I mentioned above, there are a lot of great people in my life, people I enjoy seeing and hanging out with at the drop of a hat. This can happen with my friends in LA and attached counties (and I can count them on my fingers and toes). Expand to Northern and Southern California, the West, and points east, and this number noticeably grows. No matter when I see any of these people, it is just like yesterday. They are all talented, artistic, and vocal. In a word, they are really cool human beings. Some share my interests; others don’t. Some share my political views; others don’t. They are of a multitude of races, and not all are American born. They are just people, … people I’m lucky to know.

nuch&marissa_tujungaHouse_ws

There are two other people, and they are core to my soul and to my very existence. One I’ve known for many years (and some of you know her). The other is new to my life (and some of you know her). They give my life balance, they give my life validity, and they give my life a future.

Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway (update #1)

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


As the Sand Creek book now moves forward at lightening speed I thought that the time had arrived to begin updates on its progress.

This blog is the first in what will be a long string of Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway postings that deal with status, thoughts, invitations, and quizzes. Not to worry for I’m certain that most of you aren’t interested in swinging a blade—the winners won’t win a free dueling lesson. They will, however, win something that I hope will be of interest.

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Chuck Rankin (right) is editor-in-chief at OU Press. This image was taken in September 2011 when Ned Wynkoop and the Lonely Road from Sand Creek was presented to the public (Western History Association convention in Oakland, Ca.) for the first time. Chuck gave me the poster behind us, and it has since been framed and hangs in my living room. The reason is simple: This book is the most important book I have written. Charley Gatewood’s involvement with the Apaches was as important as Wynkoop’s with the Cheyennes and Arapahos, but Gatewood’s involvement was limited to his career within the military. Wynkoop’s involvement with Indians extended beyond the military and eventually challenged national politics. Both dared to stand for what they considered right, but Wynkoop’s fall was greater for he dared to take on his entire world. This took guts. Gatewood’s stance also took guts, but to a lesser degree. (photo © Louis Kraft & Chuck Rankin 2011)

Years ago Chuck pitched me to write a book about Sand Creek and I said “no,” that I write about people and not war. Chuck didn’t give up and over time we have worked on a storyline that is good for both of us. Our connection with this story idea didn’t stop there and he has been with me as the book proposal developed. It became a story idea that we both liked and we worked as a team. Chuck sent an email a week or so back, and it reads in part:

“Sorry for the delay, but I was going to wait until our Faculty Advisory Board [FAB] pronounced the final decision. That occurs August 13, a week from Tuesday. Meanwhile, our Editorial Committee (an internal committee) met on the project … this past week and gave Sand Creek a unanimous and enthusiastic two thumbs up. So, it’s all a green light to FAB, and I expect no problems there whatsoever.

“It’s all good.”

August 13 will move us to the final piece in making the book reality—the contract. This is always touchy as both sides have items they want. As such, it turns into a round-robin of negotiations. I hate to say it, but I enjoy this. … As soon as the contract is signed, Sand Creek and Tragic End of a Lifeway will dominate the next three years of my life. Talks will be limited to my full asking salary and all expenses, Errol & Olivia progress will slow but will move forward (this book is important and will happen). Alas, magazine writing will go on hiatus (am scrambling to complete what I owe). Blogs, however, will continue at a steady pace.

Those of you interested in Errol & Olivia fear not, for the next blog will deal with them.


August 13th is here, and late today the expected news arrived. Per Chuck Rankin:

“It’s late in the day and I’m headed out the door, but I wanted you to know that the faculty board approved your proposal for a study of Sand Creek today. Congratulations!”

Ladies and gents, all that remains are the contract negotiations. Chuck and I both want this book—we’ll work it out. At this moment I’m one happy frontiersman. The smile is wide. This is a good day to be alive.

Approach to Errol Flynn & Olivia de Havilland’s acting + more

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


Ladies and gents, this is an important blog in that it was supposed to share how I’ll write about Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland’s acting in Errol & Olivia. An intriguing thought, but alas, it isn’t about to happen, at least not in the way you expect. Why? Simply, it’s a touchy subject for me—what to share or not share. This blog will discuss some of my background while giving you a hint of how I’ll address their acting (and in Flynn’s case, his dueling). But that said and you frowning, read on for I think the following is important.


Some bitching … or should I call it free advertising?

AT&T U-verse, the scourge of the LA internet, struck again while I was prepping the Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway blog (which was supposed to go live before this blog.
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A ghost lk image, for this is how I’ve felt for the last week and a half. I’ve been struggling with deadlines and a contract negotiation. I don’t need software/internet failures. If this B.S. happens again, a company is going to be fired. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)


Oops! Actually that is OOPS!!! This blog went live first. No fanfare and in totally incomplete first rough draft form. Someone even liked it (not me; you can take that one to the bank). I could have totally destroyed it, but too much work had already been given it, and I decided not to. Kudos, AT&T U-verse, for you have another notch to add to your bloody dagger. Or was it PressHarbor, which teams with WordPress, and is responsible for this website-blog, as they had just performed a software update. If yes, as Caesar said as he was being murdered in Shakespeare’s play (Julius Caesar), “Et tu, Brute.”This blog on Errol & Olivia was planned for next week. My apologies for this error (give thanks to that dastardly villain, AT&T U-verse). They have become my Darth Vader. You’re getting a little more meat here than was originally intended (plus a free plug for AT&T U-verse). If AT&T U-verse crashes my internet connection after 5:00 PM Pacific Time, I’m dead in the water. No Chrome, no Firefox, no WordPress, oh, and that also includes no att.net (but who cares about att.net?), which all means one thing—no lk website/blog on my computers.

 To help you feel better there will be a quiz at the end of this blog,
and it will be easy.


Another dueling quiz

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A publicity image of Errol and Olivia for Dodge City. Take a close look at Mr. Flynn’s mustache. It ‘taint the one he wore in the film.


I know, some of you are thinking oh hell!!!, not another dueling lesson. Alas, I’m sorry, but ’tis true. I like the blade and want to cross it with living flesh and blood. That means you. (Or perhaps one of the key people in my life—hope burns eternal.) If I can’t secure victims—oops, I meant “volunteers”—locally I need to expand my horizon for would-be heroes. Smile, for you are again presented with the opportunity to enjoy swinging a saber for an hour, an hour and a half, or however long it takes me to wear you out. ‘Tis fun; trust me.

I’m not joking about the time limit with the sword. Again, this is fun for me. I’m good with the time. I’ll supply the water. If you want more punch, you supply the vino (however, this isn’t recommended).

What I bring to the table
I think you need to know a little about me that relates to me being capable of writing Errol & Olivia. Obviously I write biographies, but more is required. I don’t want to drag this out with a lot of words, so we’ll use a few bullets:
 
  • I discovered Flynn and de Havilland’s films when a boy
  • Flynn’s acting and writing influenced my life
  • While a young teenager I studied fencing with Ralph Faulkner in Hollywood
    • This led to me learning saber and dueling competition in college
    • It eventually led to me learning “swashbuckling,” or stage combat, and choreographing duels and dueling on stage
  • In junior high school I began studying acting and performing
    • This continued in high school
    • In college I majored in acting and directing
  • For about 15 years after college I attempted to survive in the acting world
  • After quitting acting I have survived as a writer
  • When opportunity presented itself in 2002 I returned to the stage but only in plays I have written
  • I have a track record of bringing historical figures to life in print, on stage, and when speaking before an audience
I believe the above qualifies me to not only write about Mr. Flynn and Ms. de Havilland but to approach their lives during a very short period of time in a different and perhaps avant-garde manner. These words are key, for they provide a hint to how I’m writing Errol & Olivia. … And better, I’m going into detail and it’s going to be fun detail; fun and multi-leveled detail.

Some views you should hear
You also need to have a warning here, especially so since some of you may not read my Indian Wars blogs. Not pitching you, but I’m alerting you to the fact that I don’t just pound out words based upon secondary books that may or may not be riddled with errors. This paragraph is important, for it informs you that I live with, walk with, and study my subjects until I know them. I don’t trust anyone. I must dig, dig, and then dig more. What is the truth and what is B.S.? Let’s drop the politeness and use the word—there is a lot of bullshit published with no documentation, or worse, documentation that is little more than smoke and mirrors created only to fool the reading public. This is totally unacceptable, and writers that are guilty of doing this are little more than cretins or worse. … Maybe they should win a dueling lesson—crossed blades with deadly intent could be fun. (I’ve been sliced just below the right eye; I know the adrenaline rush and what the cut feels like.)
dc_ah&efStreetRibbonART_wsFlynn having fun with Alan Hale in Dodge City. Obviously I’m playing around while I decide how I want to deliver photos/art for the next four books. (art in progress © Louis Kraft 2013)

I’m not a knight in shining armor but I do research my subject matter in all ways possible. And this doesn’t include a week or two or a month or two at an archives. I’m talking about years and years of research. For example, for Errol & Olivia I have been researching them at the USC Warner Bros. Archives since the mid-1990s (and elsewhere). I haven’t finished this research. And yes, there have been interruptions, sometimes lengthy. That said, putting food on the table, paying bills, and having a life are also important.Research time is limited, not only by me surviving but also the USC WB Archives limited availability. Currently they are open to historians and college students three times a week from 10:00 AM until 4:30 PM except when they are closed. At the moment they have been closed since the last week of July until September. Also, and this is key, they usually have only six spots open for researchers, and these are by appointment. …. Research, wherever it is happening, will continue up until the book is published.

In no way am I criticizing the USC WB Archives. It is a goldmine,
and over all these years the archivists have been so good to me. Everyone, … everyone. Jonathon Auxier runs the archives now. I’ve known him for a
number of years. Not only has he gone out of his way to make my
research experience successful, he’s just a great person.
Charming, funny, bright, caring. The archives are lucky they have
him running the show, for I’m certain he has helped many
people find the information they crave.


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Olivia and Flynn during the forrest banquet scene in The Adventures of Robin Hood. (art in progress © Louis Kraft 2013)

Not to worry, for I write as I research. Originally I had told a number of people that this blog would deal with E&O’s acting. Unfortunately this was a false statement by me. My apologies, for I have realized that I can’t give away key elements to the book (even though it would only be related to say They Died With Their Boots On or Four’s a CrowdThe Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, and Dodge City. These films will dominate the acting and writing in E&O. Certainly Santa Fe Trail is important as Flynn and his Livvie have moved to a new level in their relationship. The Adventures of Robin Hood is mandatory as it is key to their lives. Captain Blood introduced them, but they were little more than amateurs at this time. Captain Blood is important for the raw emotions that are captured on screen (ditto Robin Hood). The Charge of the Light Brigade is an exceptional film in that it not only clearly documents their giant steps forward as actors (especially Flynn) but it also continues/cements a relationship that is fragile.Trust me, Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland became attracted to each other from the moment they met during the casting of Captain Blood. No matter what happened or the directions their lives would take, they would remain connected regardless of their problems with each other over time.
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Swordsmen just wanna have fun. … and nothing is sacred. (art in progress © Louis Kraft 2013)

I’m sorry for not talking about their acting in one of their films but this seemed to be wrong at this time. I want to keep your interest … I need to keep your interest. I can’t give the book away. One thing is certain—who they were and how they felt influenced their performances on screen. I will view their acting from a multitude of layers, which includes their growth as actors (and both did grow on film), as well as raw emotions that at times were captured by the cinematographer. Regardless of what happened with their real-life relationship, they were always drawn to each other. The sexual desire was always present, regardless of the hurt or anger in their lives. This led to friendship, and this eventually gave them their best performances as an acting duo. I will discuss their acting using my acting background. Ditto Mr. Flynn and his handling of a sword. This will be a book of their life and times, but it is also a history of their times and that includes their films and their acting in their eight films together. What I share will be lively. One final note, Errol & Olivia will be different from any book you have ever read about Mr. Flynn or Ms. de Havilland. It will change your thinking about them.

Now for your quiz
This is a two-part question that deals with Errol Flynn’s swashbuckling films (TV performances don’t count here). He made eight of them. 1) Name them, the year they were released, and the characters Flynn played. 2) He made another film that could have been a swashbuckler. Certainly he swung a blade on camera. Name this film, its year of release, and who Flynn played. Like I said, easy. Email me with your answers. Remember, you’ll have to live locally or travel to cross blades with me. There is no rush to collect your winnings, for there is no time limit (other than me continuing to walk and swing a sword).

How race has affected my life & writing

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


I saw and liked this image of Nuch (that is Pailin), and she gave it to me. It was taken at her work shortly before I met her, and more importantly shows a little of her world—a world I hope to enter. She created the border; all I did was prep it for the internet. (photo © Pailin Subanna 2013)

There is a new lady in my life. She has been a long time coming, and that is because I don’t look for women and I don’t chase women. We are getting to know each other, letting our friendship grow as we experience our cultures. She is charming, funny, bright, has a sensitivity that I have seldom seen, and is open to the world and all it has to offer. She is certainly braver than I have been (and I have pushed my limits at times). Oh, did I mention that I am thrilled to know her. My eyes devour her (no bad thoughts here; only good thoughts). We are both shy, careful, perhaps wounded, and have an exciting adventure in front of us as we seal our friendship and move into our future.

I have a wonderful friend in Massachusetts. We are in constant contact. When she learned of the new lady in my life, she raised the very valid question about race. Since my divorce in the dark ages I have had two long-term girlfriends. As they were Asian and this lady is Asian, she raised the question if I am only interested in women of Asian descent. I told her no, absolutely not (I can list a number of false starts with terrific women of other races, but won’t). I told her all three relationships just happened and had nothing to do with race.

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My good friend Veronica von Bernath Morra with an African American sailor in July 2013 during a cruise to Bermuda. Both have great smiles. (photo © Veronica von Bernath Morra 2013)

She countered with a great comment: “IMHO nothing ‘Just Happens.’ The fact that these women are Asian and not black, Native American, Hispanic, etc., has something to do with what you find attractive. You must meet many women; but I believe you gravitate in one direction more than others!!”

My friend’s name is Veronica von Bernath Morra, and she said something I want to not believe. Certainly I see a lot of African American and Latina ladies that are drop-dead beautiful, but her statement, and this is exactly why I’m quoting her here, has got to have a lot of truth to it. I’m not going to talk about why, for honestly I don’t know why. I am going to talk about race, equality, and how it has affected my life and writing.

A lack of racism in my life

As far as I could see my parents had no racist bones in their bodies. I never heard anything from them that even hinted at what could be considered a negative or derogatory view of other people. I think they were key to what would become my future.

I was born in New York, but while young moved to California with my parents and younger sister. Within a year my mother, sister, and I were back to New York while my mother fixed up our home that had been rented. By the time I was 7 (perhaps 8) we had returned to California. By then I had already been in five, six, or maybe seven schools. The list would continue to grow. For a couple of years we lived in a trailer park in Van Nuys.

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This image (which unfortunately was too small and too out of focus for me to do anything with) has been colorized. The fellow on the left is Rand Brooks; he played Corporal Boone on The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin in the 1950s. The fellow on the right is Kid Kraft, one of the most infamous gunslingers of the 1950s. I don’t remember how many notches he had on his Colt revolver, but there were many. Notice that his Colt is butt first on his left hip. Yep, he used a cross-draw. This image was taken at Corriganville Park in Simi Valley, California, in February 1956. (photo/art © Louis Kraft 2013)

My best friend in 1955 was Jesse Carrera. We were buds, and on all our days free of elementary school we climbed the huge (to us) man-made mountain that would eventually become the 405 freeway as it sliced through Van Nuys and explore the labyrinth of sand and waterways hidden by dense brush and trees. We were frontiersmen exploring a pristine world. Our imaginations went wild as we cautiously followed the bends of the river. Every so often we would meet strangers, but all was peaceful and non-threatening. Jesse was Latino, but I didn’t know that. All I knew was that he was my first real friend. After his family or mine left the trailer park (can’t remember which family left first) I never saw him again. At the time this was a devastating loss.

Van Nuys is in the San Fernando Valley (Los Angeles County, where most of the towns are part of the city of the Angels). In 1956 my parents bought a home on half an acre in Reseda. Rural, definitely rural (animals galore), and I would grow up in this house. My school years through high school consisted of mostly Anglo Americans. I had an Asian friend who I met in fourth grade and due to the constant splitting of school districts we were part of a small group of kids that went from one school (4th grade) to another (5th & 6th grades), all of junior high (although most of our classmates went to another junior high) and all of high school together (again separated from most of our junior high classmates). For him and me, staying together through school was a rarity, for every time a district divided we were on the small side and became outsiders in our new schools. His name was Brian Usui. Recently I had hoped to see him again, but it wasn’t to be for he had died. In junior high my best friend was David Koenig. He was half German and half Latino (we had three years together, and remained friends afterwards, but I haven’t seen him in years). Dave and I shared some adventures, including running for our lives when an irate father attempted beat the hell out of us or worse. Our legs and his lack of physical condition saved us.

As stated, Brian and I were on the short end of our final school border split as Cleveland High School in Reseda had recently opened. It was half a block from my house, which allowed me to spend time with my mother every lunch hour—heaven! (Yep, I was a mama’s boy.)

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lk w/Nina & Pete Senoff at a Cleveland High School birthday party on the evening of September 29, 2012. Pete gave me the image (and I don’t know if the image is from his camera or someone else’s). It was a duotone when I received it, and I like duotones. … Pete was the editor on the Cleveland HS paper, and during our final year he played a major role in me having a good life that last year. I know, that’s pretty damned obscure. I won an election I had no right to enter (two teachers and Pete made this happen–perhaps I’ll talk about this sometime). The past is long gone; what matters now is that we are friends. This includes Nina, and I look forward to our future relationship. This includes Nuch, who, thanks to Pete, has already become friends with Nina.

Memory says Cleveland HS was mostly Anglo American, some Latinos, and probably more Asians than Brian. I didn’t remember any African Americans in the school, but someone I liked during at least the last year of high school and who has reconnected with me—Pete Senoff (more about him and his pretty wife in the future)—last year told me that there were some African Americans at Cleveland. I didn’t meet the first African American person who would become a close friend until college. We were actors and we hit it off. His wife was white, and I had no problem with their marriage—they became good friends for years to come.

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Clay reacting to hearing that Liston cannot continue the fight. … Although I didn’t know it at this time, Muhammad Ali would become a major person during the 20th century but not for his boxing feats (which are legendary), but for his strength to stand firm for what he believed was right regardless of the consequences.

When Cassius Clay fought Sonny Liston for the heavy weight boxing championship on February 25, 1964, I was a member of a teen club. The fellow that led the group I belonged to laughed when I said Clay would win the fight. I had been following Clay on the radio and was certain he’d win. The counselor bet $20.00 against my pants on the outcome. I drooled over that 20 bucks, but damn how could I explain why I had no pants when my mother picked me up? Clay won, and soon after became Muhammad Ali, one of the greatest inspirations of the 20th century. (I would meet Ali twice a decade and a half or so later while working in the film industry—a thrill!). Let me put it to you this way: I was still an innocent, I never considered Ali’s race. It didn’t mean anything to me. Why? My mother and father.

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This picture was taken the night of my senior prom at Cleveland High School in Reseda, California, at Kathy Grossman’s parents’ house. And it does not do her justice, for she was gorgeous. ‘Course I was stupid, for when I moved on to college I didn’t look back. I did see Kathy one more time after my senior year ended when I bumped into her at the Reseda post office. I had seen my dad and was mailing a package for him. We had a nice talk. She had just returned from spending a year in a kibbutz in Israel, was visiting her parents, and was about to get married. She looked terrific; I never saw her again.

In my final year of high school I luckily had a pretty Jewish girl in my Spanish class. I actually had the guts to ask her out and she said yes. I should state here that during my visits to her home, her parents welcomed me. They were open, friendly, kind, and gracious—always. Never did I feel the outsider. A good feeling. Unfortunately she was younger than I was and I never made the attempt to continue the relationship after I moved on to college.

College presented me with four years of creativity, experimentation, and an introduction to the real world of racism. I was at school from 7:00 AM until 6:00 or 7:00 PM unless I was working on a theatrical production—then it would extend to 11:00 PM or later. I did almost all of my studying at school. I partied and lived the good life, including going to the beach whenever a good buddy named Steve Jacques and I decided to take the day off. I graduated in four years with 16 extra credits. I worked and paid for everything. My father wanted me to be like him; he wanted me to be a man for if not, I’d not survive in the real world. He paid for zero (although he did allow me to live at home for a good part of the time in a trailer in the back yard). I said, “F.U.!” I had begun working full-time in high school, for I knew what I wanted. Believe me, we had a number of knock-down fights and I always lost (and they weren’t by decision).

The Apaches during the end of their wars with the U.S. believed that if they couldn’t
win the fight (with little or no casualties) to run away to fight another day.
Unfortunately it took me years to learn this. I’ve been down for the 10-count more
than once. I have learned what the Apaches instinctively knew.

An eye-opening end to the 1960s

Robert F. Kennedy spoke at San Fernando Valley State College (now California State University, Northridge) on March 25, 1968, after announcing that he would seek the Democratic nomination for president on March 16th (and was warned by his brother not to run). At that time I was a registered Republican (I had worked for Ronald Reagan as volunteer during his first campaign to become governor of California) and could not have voted for RFK in the California primary election on June 4. I joined the crowd on that March day, and on that day I thought nothing of RFK. He meant absolutely nothing to me. During that hour or so when he spoke I was floored (read impressed). Had he not been murdered and had he won the Democratic nomination for president I would have voted for him (currently I’m registered as a Democrat, and have been since just before Bill Clinton’s California Democratic primary win in 1992, but have always voted for the candidate and not the party).

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In 1984 I worked on a mini-series, Robert Kennedy and His Times, that shot his final hours where they happened in the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Blvd. in Los Angeles (evening of June 4-5, 1968). Brad Davis played RFK and G.D. Spradlin played Lyndon B. Johnson (first class performances). I had a small part in the TV film (a little over 5 hours), but luckily was employed during the entire shoot; up front and center with the key people in the production (learning about good and bad). I then realized what I didn’t know in 1968, how important RFK was to civil rights and how tragic his murder was to the future of our country.

By the end of the 1960s Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the movement for racial equality dominated the news. My home was racial free, regardless of how few friends I had of race. During my college years I bought into Dr. King’s movement 100 percent, and marched for him (before and after his death).

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Martin Luther King, Jr., and his wife Coretta in 1964, at the time he received the Nobel Peace Prize for his leadership and work in the civil rights movement. (art © Louis Kraft 2013)

In August 1963 Dr. King and a massive number of people marched in Washington DC, and on the 28th he delivered his “I Have a Dream” talk. I couldn’t be in Washington as I was too young, but I knew what happened. I had been working part time in high school, but during my last year I worked full time so I could enter college in fall 1965. In my first semester I took a speech class never dreaming that someday I would earn money speaking. I think there were two short talks and the final presentation. Mine dealt with Dr. King and his “I Have a Dream” speech.

Less than four years later while enjoying my last semester of college I took a Black theater class (that’s what African Americans were called then) on Sunday evenings. This class was outside the then-lines of mainstream theater and way outside college curriculum. I think my professor’s last name was Faulk (need to check). The Theater Department was small and I took a number of his classes, and they were always outside the box (or maybe he just allowed me to go outside the box). Four maybe five African Americans who weren’t in the Theater Department joined me in the class which was a round-robin discussion. Just us and Dr. Faulk sitting in a circle. Probably one or the most important classes I ever took. And it would influence my future, for it was still ongoing when Dr. King was murdered (two months before RFK) on April 4, 1968. In Los Angeles I marched in support of MLK Jr.’s views on peace, nonviolence, and racial equality. These marches, which were dominated by African Americans, were peaceful. It was probably at this time that I realized that people are people, and it doesn’t matter their race.

Post-college eye openers

The first eye opener took place while I was in training to become a member of Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA) in Austin, Texas. One night during the wee hours of early morning (they rolled up the sidewalks at 10:00 PM, but not us), I experienced something I could have gladly missed. We were off by 6:00 or 6:30, and part of the training included how to position ourselves to work with American Indians (my desire–thanks to Errol Flynn Introducing me to Custer and Custer introducing me to the Indian wars), Blacks, or Hispanics. On that night (perhaps 2:00 AM) there were about 20 of us in one of the dorm rooms on the University of Texas campus. I said something that I perhaps should not have said to a white couple that I liked. Don’t remember what I said, but suddenly I had an arm wrapped around my chest and a knife at my throat. One of the Chicanos (as Mexicans whose parents were born in Mexico but they were born in the U.S. were then called) didn’t like what I said. He was present as he was looking for volunteers his delegation would choose to work in Mexican communities in one of the Southwestern states.

 I have been run over while riding a motorcycle and have
taken a motorcycle over a cliff. … I have been in car wrecks, car chases,
and more fisticuffs than necessary.
You’ve got to realize—and don’t laugh—I’m a man of peace.
I just have a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
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An image taken shortly after lk left VISTA. (photo © Louis Kraft 1973)

Back to the knife. Let’s put it this way; I was frightened, but luckily in control of my thought process. I told the Chicano that if he killed me, he ruined his cause. I also told him that if he killed me he would have to kill everyone else in the room for otherwise his life would have no future.

These words were probably the most important of my life. He released me. Some four hours later when breakfast was served I was a hero. Pure bullshit for I was little more than a scared person who was thrilled to see the sun rise. Soon after the racial delegations chose us, similar to choosing sides for a sandlot football game. African Americans chose me. Although I was mad that I didn’t get to work with Navajos or Apaches or Cheyennes, I was lucky. There would be training in Sapulpa, Oklahoma, and more training in Austin before five women and two men (a Black woman from L.A. and a Black fellow I liked a lot—the rest were Anglo Americans) and I were assigned to Oklahoma City. Enough said, except to say that this was an important time in my life. I learned to live with and hang out with a race of people that had lived with and still experienced heavy racial oppression.

To this point in time I had no idea I would become a writer.

Acting, more racism, a daughter, & cold turkey

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lk as he looked for the first play at the Hayloft Dinner Theatre in Lubbock Texas; What Did We Do Wrong; a generation-gap comedy. (photo © Louis Kraft 1976)

After VISTA I spent as much time as possible with professional theater groups, I really learned how to act, and began to land some acting (and related) work. In the summer of 1976 I did dinner theater in Lubbock, Texas, and the racism I saw up close shocked me. The directors and lead actors came from L.A. Jim Reynolds played my best friend in the first play. We hit it off immediately and hung out together. He was African American. The actors lived at the theater, but the show running its last week while we rehearsed still occupied the rooms. That week before opening we lived in a motel with a restaurant. That first morning after our arrival the waitress gave me coffee, water, a menu, and ignored Jim. I not only had to ask for him—I had to order for him. As we didn’t have transportation, this restaurant was our only choice each morning for a week. And this was just the beginning of what I saw that summer of 1976; it was right out of films that featured racism in the South. To this day what I experienced in Lubbock has tainted my view of Texas; it still burns in my soul.

My mother’s death on January 4, 1980, ended my father’s
and my war. We spent the last weeks of her life, every
waking moment, together. My mother’s death gave
us a love that would be never-ending.

Years would pass, some good while others were bad. With the birth of my daughter Marissa in the early 1980s I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I had begun writing screenplays in the 1970s. By the mid-1980s I began selling magazine articles. Knowing that computers were the future I quit acting cold turkey and perhaps nine months later landed a job with a corporate insurance firm as a secretary under the condition that I teach myself the computer (to date I had never touched one). That was probably the biggest job I ever landed in my life for it gave me my future.

Defending my writing

My Indian wars writing and speaking has always dealt with racism—Anglo Americans, Cheyennes, and Apaches (someday also Navajos). My interest has always been a few white men that attempted to bring about the end of war, tried to not kill, and/or stood firm for Indian rights. I view Indian people that dared to stand up to the American juggernaut as patriots. In some circles this isn’t a popular viewpoint. Believe it or not, the Indian wars still sizzle with racism. It is as alive today as it was in the 1860s and 1880s. Add that I have always viewed this tragic conflict from both points of view, and at times I am not viewed in the best light.

For those of you wondering about Errol & Olivia and future books on Flynn,
worry not for this work will also generate controversy.
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Tanya Thomas as Mo-nahs-e-tah (how the Southern Cheyenne woman’s name was pronounced) and lk as Ned Wynkoop in Cheyenne Blood (2009). I chose this image as it gives you a physical view of how I approach the Indian wars (and unfortunately haven’t written any plays dealing with the Apaches). Tanya is a great actress, and I enjoyed working with her. My pal, the very talented Tom Eubanks directed Cheyenne Blood. (photo by Dean Zatkowsky)

During the time of the Gatewood/Apache books I constantly found myself defending Geronimo. I would ask those attacking me, what would you do if a superior force invaded the United States, took your homeland, killed your friends and loved ones, destroyed your religion, your culture, and your lifeway while making you a prisoner of war? What would you do? I know what I would do.

When giving a talk in Santa Fe, New Mexico, someone asked who in today’s world would I compare Geronimo to? I said, “Osama bin Laden (he was still alive and a threat to the U.S.).” The person who asked the question was outraged. I told her that bin Laden and Geronimo are/were the bogeyman, an embodiment of terror. I bring this up for one reason—there are two sides to every story. What was the U.S. military to Geronimo or bin Laden? Only they can tell you …

Trust me, Sand Creek and the Tragic End of a Lifeway
will be a special treat for those not in love with my writing. For those of
you that enjoy my writing, this book will be well worth the wait.

For the record: My writing requires no explanation. It is what it is.

Deadly intent?

More recently I appeared on LA Talk Radio. The host is someone I’ve known for years and someone I consider a friend. LA Talk Radio has two stations that are live at the same time, and I met the other host, a Jewish fellow, before the hour interview began (almost exclusively Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland).

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After the hour, the Jewish host, who knew we were going out, asked to join us. During our late-night dinner he began a monologue on Nazis that eventually included film actress Maureen O’Hara and her supposed heinous participation in WWII. He then moved on to Asians. The tirade bothered me. He had no justifiable reasons for his statements, and refused to substantiate anything. After a while I began to smile (probably my best Clint Eastwood smile). This bothered him and he said, “What’s your problem?” “You,” I replied. “You’re a racist.”

He violently denied my accusation, but offered no proof to back up his statements. I continued to smile, which unnerved him.

Me? I’m a pacifist and avoid violence whenever possible. I stand firmly for racial equality but at times in my past did not challenge racism when it stared me in the face. I heard more than my share of racist slurs in high school (but don’t remember any in college). I played 10 years on a ball team, and even though we had a Latino and a couple of Asians on the team, I saw hatred directed toward teams that were not predominantly white. I have also listened to racist comments from law enforcement personnel. Living has changed me. Where once I remained silent to what I considered offensive, I no longer do. For me, racism isn’t acceptable. The Jewish radio host sensed this, and made damn sure he kept his distance from me as he exited the restaurant. To repeat, I’m a pacifist—but he I would have gladly engaged. And I would have won.

What excites me … and what frightens me

You know what I find exciting? When people who don’t speak the same language, fear each other, are at war, but sit down to discuss peace. Now that’s exciting, but I’m talking about the 1860s and the 1880s. Race relations in our world is much-much more important today than it was during the Indian wars. Back in the 1860s or 1880s there was certainly the possibility of the elimination of a race of people. A heinous thought. Today the threat is greater, for today if mankind can’t work it out with people that have different beliefs, religions, cultures, and values, someday one of these groups of people will unleash weapons of mass destruction that will eliminate mankind as we know it.

Only time will tell

I like people and don’t care where they were born. I don’t care what color their skin is, what their religion is, or what their politics are. A good person is a good person. I’m open and I do get along with people. Always have. I don’t let too many people into my inner circle (and this group, although small but much larger than you think, is not limited to Los Angeles or California or the American West but includes people outside the United States). The reason is simple—time. I short-change my friends all the time, but it isn’t on purpose but rather because I must work long hours to survive.

There is a door that should not be opened, but it will be as I need to state something. And it is important for it goes right back to what initiated this blog. The new lady in my life. Where will our relationship lead? I know what I hope and she may hope the same. Only time will tell. One thing is certain; we must become good friends first.

Veronica and Marissa have questioned my choice in women (read Asian). I denied it, but as said above the question is valid. I have had three long-term relationships (a marriage and two ladies); one was Anglo American and the others were Japanese and Korean. But that’s not the full story, for there have been other women: Anglo Americans, African Americans, Latinas, Asians, Persians, Swedes, Greeks, Jewish people, and almost an American Indian. These ladies were special but for one reason or another the relationships were not long term and sometimes never moved beyond friendship. In my opinion only the long-term relationships count for they are the important ones when talking about love, which makes me a three-time loser.

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Nuch & lk on June 20, 2013. Nuch always has a great smile; this was the first time I smiled—really smiled—in years. There’s also the bonus that my hair is combed, which is a rarity. Nuch took this image.  (photo © Pailin Subanna & Louis Kraft 2013)

Or perhaps not. Maybe I’ve only been in training for my future.

My new lady is from Thailand. We have a fragile past with a lot of hurt, pain, and tragedy, and because of this we are very careful. We are seeing each other, exploring L.A., eating, learning language, sharing, laughing, dancing, enjoying each other’s company … and we have become friends.

Do I dare say good friends? Yes!

Will we move to love and intimacy? We don’t know. Only time will tell.

One thing is certain. … The opening of my heart to this lady is based completely on who she is as a human being and has nothing to do with race (and I’m safe in saying that this is also how she feels).

A gunslinger in a bathroom

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


On June 16th I spent Father’s Day with my daughter Marissa. Now you’ve got to realize that when you deal with me you never know what’s going to happen. Or worse, what I might do. I don’t mean to embarrass anyone and I don’t mean to shock anyone, but I swear that there are a few screws loose in my brain. … I’m not big on clothes. I’m also not an exhibitionist. That said, if everyone walked around naked, I’d be good with it. But since we don’t, I really prefer to only be naked with someone I love and am intimate with. Of course I’m not big on dressing when working at home, and at times this can lead to me walking out the door before I realize that I forgot to put on my shoes, or worse my pants. Don’t ask!!

You’re probably wondering, what has this to do with Father’s Day? Good question.

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You would be amazed at how many photos I have. I’m good filing, but still sometimes I can’t find the information I need about an image. I’m almost certain that my friend Glen Williams took this image of Marissa in 2012. I have a CD of Glen’s images and they are also on my computers. That said, I can’t find them at the moment (and unfortunately time is precious, real precious right now). Glen’s a good photographer and I’m certain he created this image.

I picked Marissa up early so we could beat the crowd at Acapulco in Northridge, Ca., … a reasonable and decent chain w/pseudo-Mexican food. Best of all, they don’t bother you and you can talk for hours. But on this day they had a buffet. Not what we wanted, as neither of us like buffets and hate over-eating. We were there—what the hell? We filled a plate of food. When we finished eating, I reached in my pocket for my wallet. It wasn’t there. This never happens. The only time I don’t take my wallet is when I go to 24 Hour Fitness, and then I take my license. I asked Marissa if she had enough money. “No” was her answer. Oh hell! In movies the hero (me) and the heroine (Marissa) wash dishes until their debt is paid. Fat chance in the real world.

My house is at least 21 miles away from Acapulco. Marissa’s mother is about 10 miles away. I asked Marissa if she could call her mother, and she did. Her mother arrived and loaned me the money to cover the bill, but outside it wasn’t pretty. (Sorry, no details.)

Marissa and I spent the rest of the day and into the night together …. talking. At my house, at Starbucks where we drank green tea, back at my house. Good times.

During the time at Tujunga House the door knob didn’t work from within the bathroom, and the door had to be opened from the outside. Marissa’s last words to me that night were: “Don’t forget to fix the door.” “Don’t worry,” I replied. “I’ll make a note to do it.” … Famous last words, for by the time I got home it was pushing 10:00 PM and I had forgotten. Add that I’m usually alone, which means that I don’t bother closing the bathroom door

Fast forward to June 18th

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A good friend of mine, Robert Florczak, has given me the sobriquet of “Kid” (or “Kit”) Kraft. Those of you who are familiar with my frontier-writing past and know where the future is headed understand Robert’s logic. I’m certain that the flies that dare to invade my pristine world see me as a cold-blooded killer. ‘Tis true, for I am their deadly enemy. Those that dare to enter the brave new world of Tujunga House face almost certain death. This is my homeland and I will protect it. (Detail of art © Louis Kraft 2013)

I hate flies, and very seldom does one invade my house. But on that day one worked its way through the protective barriers and braved a new world. In late afternoon the western sun streaks through the small window in the bathroom in question. For some reason flies are attracted to this stark streak of golden blaze and hang out in the bathroom. The room has almost become a modern-day La Brea tar pits in Los Angeles, Ca., for the flies, lured by the lushness and glow of the room, soon meet their doom.

I discovered this fly late on that fatal Tuesday afternoon and closed the door to trap it while I retrieved the fly swatter. That’s right, in case you didn’t know, Kraft is a part-time executioner. Armed and ready to send the invader to its maker, I re-entered the bathroom and shut the door. Sensing that something was afoot, the fly began to scramble as it flew about. Without a clear target I relaxed as I waited for the invader to calm down and settle.

The phone rang

I turned the door knob. All it did was spin. Suddenly I remembered Sunday and the note I never wrote. Oh xY0!$##$!h!! The fly—suddenly forgotten—had a reprieve. I searched for something that would allow me to remove the door knob. Nothing—absolutely nothing!

There are two entries to the bathroom: a small window some 7 feet above the ground that the only way I could possibly get through would be head first with a nose time to freedom, and 2) the door. The door is frail and original to the house, which was built in 1928. I’ve seen a lot of movies … I love thrillers. Let me tell you I know how easy it is to take out a door. Like I said, my door is this little old fellow that looks so weak that I could probably huff and puff and blow it down.

I backed to the wall, lowered my shoulder, and charged. To my shock, I bounced back at least 3 feet. Hell, I’m as macho as Clint E., Steve Mc., and Russell C. I shook my head, gathered my wits, and charged again. Same result, but with the addition that my shoulder now hurt.

Sitting on the bathtub I considered my options. There were none. If anyone called, they’d leave a message (or maybe not). If they called again and then again, with the same result, … they’d just figure that Kraft had again entered that “leave me alone” zone. No big deal, for he’d reply when he got around to it. I wouldn’t die of thirst, but it looked like I’d be on a diet.

This just wasn’t acceptable! The window wasn’t an option. That left the door—that damned skinny door. At least three of Clint’s movies are among my favorites, and the two that are thrillers were filmed when he was older than I currently am.

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Kraft, this is a no-brainer! Kick the friggin’ door down!!!

Forget playing hurt. I’m now a veteran NFL linebacker that must take out the opposition. Boom, boom, boom-boom-boom!!! The damned door didn’t budge. BOOM! BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!!!

The door didn’t give, but I took out my beautiful lath and plaster wall. This included the door jam, the wood framework, the metal mesh that held the plaster in place, and the swirling adobe-like finish.

What a mess! But I was free (and so was the fly).

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lk working construction (which I did off and on to bring in extra bucks). My father ran BKS Excavating with his partner and best friend Dale Schuler. Over the years they kindly gave me work when I needed it. This image is just to show you that I wasn’t a stranger to swinging a hammer, … (photo © Louis Kraft 1980)

I cleaned up the mess and looked at the disaster I had created. I looked for two days, three days, four days—all with the same vision. Can I fix this? Every time the answer was “no.” After interviewing potential contractors I decided upon a good one, but it turned into a two-day (read expensive) job.

The lesson here is simple. Make damn sure you have tools in the bathroom that will allow you to remove the door knob if necessary. An expensive lesson for Kraft, but I’m ready for the next challenge.

P.S. Back when Marissa and I were tracking Geronimo for Gatewood & Geronimo (University of New Mexico Press, 2000), she had warned me not to attempt driving though a 100-yard mud hole. I didn’t listen and got the pickup truck and us stuck in the mire. She had angrily said: “I told you!” Her words from that desperate time when I was standing in NM mud up to my knees (“I told you!”) are again with me. She had told me to fix the bathroom problem. I had said I would, but didn’t. Sometimes I’m a little slow.

Olivia de Havilland birthday, update, & quiz

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog


Friends have been contacting me all day regarding OdeH’s 97th birthday (July 1). On Sunday good friend Paul Fardink, who has written a terrific article on Lt. Charles Gatewood and his military service in the Southwest with Apache Indians (which includes a cool interview of me), let me know that he had seen OdeH on 60 Minutes this past Sunday night (June 30). He said: “David McCullough was in Paris doing a book signing and she shows up unexpectedly—96 years old and sharp as a tack!” Just what I want to hear!!!! What a great present from OdeH to the world that enjoys her classic films.

Here’s a personal note on Livvie: In a letter I received from her in December 2012 she requested information regarding her life; what I thought was important and who she should talk about. I sent her a detailed list. Hopefully some of it will work its way into her autobiography.

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Original artwork of OdeH in Louis Kraft collection.

The original artwork of OdeH seen here is in my personal collection. In 2004 when my daughter Marissa and I visited her in Paris, I gave her a print of it. She immediately recognized who she was playing. If you recognize who she’s playing, let me know.
The first person with the correct answer will receive one free dueling lesson with sabers. ‘Course you will need to live in the Los Angeles area for I don’t travel to train people on how to run other people through with a blade. 

I should add that the only local person who might identify this portrait correctly will be my buddy Robert Florczak. Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, I don’t think he’ll step forward as I don’t think he wants to cross blades with me. I wonder why.

Do your research and submit your answer to the email address at the bottom of this page. Good luck to all!

The good news is that Livvie at the time of her 97th birthday looks well and sounds great. Happy Birthday to a wonderful person!

Good friends, a small friend, & more … much more

Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blogs


Those of you who know me, and I mean, really know me, know that I move at my own pace, especially when it comes to my personal life.

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Annette Florczak after a screening of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) 75th anniversary at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood, Ca. She and her hubby Robert made sure that I joined them on this night. It’s Robert’s favorite film. As Annette was preparing to take a group shot I captured her. Not too long ago Annette said to me that she liked that I said what was on my mind. I hope that I’m always true to her compliment. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

I’m in no rush, for I cherish my life and attempt to enjoy each and every minute of it, regardless if it is a never-ending night as I can’t sleep or hanging out with my daughter or seeing friends. You probably don’t know this, but I intend to live to at least 120. I have books to write, people to piss off, and friends to know and enjoy.

My closest friends have all become friends because of my writing life.

Most live in other states, outside the U.S., or in that far-off land we call Northern California. Whenever I’m in the same location as them, it is pure joy regardless if it is for work or pleasure.

My daughter is my life, and luckily she lives close to me. 

Back in 2008 (I think) a group called the “Mulholland Drive Boys” was created to unite writers, artists, directors, and other people interested in Errol Flynn and bring them together. For the most part, the group doesn’t exist, or at best is dormant. No matter, for the creation of the Mulholland Drive Boys introduced me to four people, four people that have become good friends.

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From left Robert and Annette Florczak, Greg and Nam Maradei. The three kids were, along with me, Robert and Annette’s guests to see Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland as Robin Hood and Maid Marian. He tutors them in art. To my dismay I don’t have any single or two-shots of Robert on this night (he hid behind his students). Actually I don’t have any single shots of him ever—guess he doesn’t trust me (if I capture his image I’ll steal his soul). Ladies and gents, I’m not a skinwalker and I don’t shape shift. It was a fun evening. (Photo by lk on May 11, 2013)

Two fellows and their gorgeous wives (Robert & Annette and Greg & Nam). Over just a handful of years they have become my closest friends in Los Angeles.

As there is a memoir in my future, I am also using this blog to not only explore my writing ups and downs, my thrills and failures while also keeping you updated on current projects. The goal is to also figure out who I am, where I’ve been, and zero in on a past that is filled with both unsavory and golden moments. That is people, memories, flashes in time.

It’s time for you to sit down and hold on

If you’re not sitting, please do so before looking at the next image and reading the first sentence that follows the image and its caption.

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No, no, no, and once again NO—lk isn’t a convicted felon. This image was taken at the Lincoln Heights jail in Los Angeles on January 24, 1979, by Ron Batzdorff, who was the still photographer on The Onion Field. If memory serves me, this jail was not in operation at the time (don’t know if it still exists). Great film location, and honestly scary. During free time, I spent time sitting in a locked jail cell, letting my mind flow with whatever images hit me. Not something I ever want to experience in real life. The numbers you see in the image are real, Gregory Powell murdered a Los Angeles police officer in 1963. Joe Wambaugh’s best selling book, The Onion Field, documented the crime; he also produced the film. James Woods shot to stardom with his portrayal of Gregory Powell, and to a lesser extent so did Ted Danson, who played the murdered officer. Although I haven’t seen either in 30 or so years, back in those days I worked with them on other projects. My memories of Jimmy and Ted are first class, and in no way are my views of them negative. … On a side note, although I never manually worked in an onion field, I have run and crawled through them (a few years before the film was shot I did work in a cotton field in Texas).

One thing I can state clearly and honestly—I’m shy. Always have been. Those of you who know me are probably chuckling. Go ahead, make it an out and out laugh, but ’tis true. I’ve always been aggressive when I’ve played sports (tennis, football, baseball, and so on), but when interested in a lady my brain goes south. I’m lucky if I can mumble a few words.

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A publicity photo taken at Encino House on June 29, 1981. The smile was still present, but by 1984 it would be gone. (photo © Louis Kraft 1981)

I had a fairly long acting/modeling/film world career that was at best unfulfilling and at worst a waste of my time.  A very true statement, but it obscures and almost damns a multitude of truly caring and artistic people I worked with, hung out with, and have nothing but cherished memories during my time with them. Actors, directors, crew members. This was also a time of getting in sync with my inner being, understanding what made me tick, and accepting me for being me. When not working, I did this on an almost daily basis with actors (exceptional people). Most are gone from my life (but I have memories). Two friends are always with me, regardless when I see or talk to them. An actress I worked with for a few years and a costumer I met on Tucker’s Witch (we also worked on Johnny Belinda). Good friends, always.

Returning to those dark days of yesteryear, I did learn that to succeed (and I quit acting cold turkey to write full-time in the 1980s) I needed to approach what I wanted head-on. I needed to put my fears to rest and be aggressive. What I failed to do in the film/acting world (due to shyness hangups and my refusal to do things I found repulsive and/or disgusting), I have not encountered. The writing world has never assaulted or compromised my values. Never. Add the good fortune to also write for companies, and I have had the freedom to only write about subjects important to me in the freelance world.

The times they are a changin’

 Events in April 2012 made me take a long hard look at my world. It was time for a change regardless of the cost (and this would be large). That change would take time and guts for me to hold course. Fast forward a year to May 2013. I could now look back at 2011, a year that had been a wild ride of highs and deep-deep lows, but the hibernation had been in effect since late 2008 or early 2009 when my world went south. This is not quite true, for the Wynkoop book saw print in 2011 and my relationship with Marissa blossomed after a decade of darkness.

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David DeWitt at Tujunga House in January 2013. When David visited we spent good time together deep into the night (deep for me) as we shared tales from our past. For me, it was just what the doctor ordered. We chatted, we laughed, and we enjoyed ourselves. During his visit I gained a good insight into myself. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

I pretty much keep to myself. I see Marissa, but that is pretty much it. Entertain? Me? Who are you kidding? My good pal and Flynn expert David DeWitt visited for five days at the beginning of this year. Robert F. came over for dinner a couple of months later. David and Robert are two friends I can hang out with for hours on end. They are always welcome in my home (as are Annette, Greg, and Nam). I’ve been in a shell for years (except when on the road). I needed to escape from my self-imposed banishment.

An introduction to a key person in my life

In 2002 Robert Goodman, MD, suggested I see Malcolm Cosgrove, MD. Within a little more than six months Dr. Cosgrove would become responsible for me continuing to walk this earth. If not for him I would be a long-forgotten memory. I see him every three months. I saw him on June 14, and everything went according to plan. We tested and discussed two subjects important to me. Over the years I’ve grown to know and like him, so we have more than just a doctor-patient relationship. The next day, June 15th, he was flying to Israel for a family reunion and much more, and he looked forward to a great trip. He’s aware of what I do, but on this day I introduced him to the website/blog, which hadn’t gone live when last I saw him. He asked what was up next, and I told him about a dinner party on June 15, and that one of my friends was bringing a friend to introduce to me (more about this below). He asked if I had ever been married, and I replied that I had been back in the dark ages. He chuckled as he asked if my friends were married. I said yes, and he said, “Be careful; they want to make you like them.” We laughed, and I said, “Don’t worry.” I have a protective shell that is forever present—unless I want, no one enters my life.

A June dinner party

Back to the thrust of this blog. I had survived April and May bills (no easy task; actually I’ve relearned how to juggle, a throwback to the acting world). It was time to again entertain. I hadn’t hosted a dinner party in a long time. This had to come to an end, and I wanted it to happen now. Who else would I invite but Robert & Annette and Greg & Nam. Over the years following the creation of the Mulholland Drive Boys we would see each other at increasing intervals. This grew to friendship. But on this day, this June 15th day, I would have a bonus for I would also meet a lady. … Let’s call her a small friend—for now. … Patience, my friends, patience!

I don’t know enough about Annette, Greg, or Nam’s professions
to speak about their work worlds accurately.
Not to worry, for I will talk about them. 
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Annette & Robert Florczak at Tujunga House on June 15. I like this image for you can see their closeness and togetherness, which is always present. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

Robert is one of the brightest and artistic people I’ve come to know over the years. Artist-Musician-composer-singer-historian/writer-art professor-film consultant … A Renaissance Man, he’s also writing a book about Errol Flynn. I’m not going to tell you about the book, for I don’t want to give anything away. I will say this; when it is printed it is must reading for anyone interested in Errol Flynn or the Golden Age of cinema. I think I can safely say that he is probably the most knowledgable person I have ever known in regards to Flynn (and that includes people who are no longer with us). He is also the historical consultant for the upcoming film on Errol Flynn’s last years with Beverly Aadland. This project (already in the can) is first class all the way. The Last Days of Robin Hood (not my favorite title; but it may be after I see the film) stars Kevin Kline as Flynn (he was born to play Flynn), Dakota Fanning as Beverly, and Susan Saradon as Beverly’s mother Florence Aadland. From what I have heard from Robert, this is going to be a special film.

Robert is charming and bright and I enjoy every minute I spend with him. Oh, I should add that his sense of humor is in line with mine—a little twisted. Whenever one of us has the chance we try to pull each other’s legs. Great fun!

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Annette & Robert Florczak at Tujunga House on June 15. Someone said something that was really funny (wish it had been me, but it wasn’t). Perhaps Greg M., for he was also shooting pictures at that moment. Annette is really enjoying what was said, and in a moment she would be totally bent over, and Robert, who has a nice smile here would also be laughing all out. A first class moment! (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

I can’t say enough about Annette. She is friendly, open, and caring … and is always a delight to be around and speak with—I’m at home with her at all times. She is a perfect hostess, so much so that I drag my heels when leaving her and Robert’s home. She’s German, and yet a marvel with the English language. If she didn’t tell me that she was German I would have never guessed. Amazing! Like Robert, she can talk about anything, and do it in a knowledgable way. I think she enjoys Flynn; at least I have not heard her complain when Robert and I talk about him and Olivia de Havilland (more about this below). … As I have told Robert more than once, he is one lucky fellow.

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Greg & Nam Maradei at Tujunga House on June 15. As you can see they are close, and I think had a good time. Certainly their smiles are nice in this image. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

Greg is a Flynn fan, a big Flynn fan, and this interest has brought me together with him and his pretty wife Nam. We all should have his enthusiasm and curiosity. He has the gift to make people—certainly me—feel like I’ve known him all my life. It’s a good feeling. Certainly he is a hard worker (as is Annette and Nam … Robert is like me, and we live in a different world work-wise—I’m not saying Robert isn’t a hard worker, for he is, … it’s just different). Not only is Greg outgoing and fun-loving, someone I enjoy hanging out with, but he is also a fellow I know I can count on. A good feeling.

Nam is a mischievous charmer who I have an absolute blast teasing (and she gives as good she gets). She keeps me laughing at her antics. Like Annette she is caring, giving, and a good hostess (including when she and Greg visit). But her talents continue to amaze me—she even knows the sword (when she shared her native knowledge with a blade my jaw almost hit the ground). If I haven’t told Greg how lucky he is, I should have, and if not, I’m saying it right here. He’s a lucky fellow that Nam is his wife. I should add that her concern for my welfare is touching. Realizing an emptiness in my life, she asked if she could do something. I gulped and hesitated, but luckily said yes (more below).

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Nam working with the blade at Tujunga House on June 15. All I can say about her impromptu performance is wow! Unfortunately I ran out of film before she finished (which doubly hurt, for right after Greg performed a funny skit with the sword, and I couldn’t capture it. … Not a good ad for a 35mm film camera. (photos © Louis Kraft 2013)

Before moving on, I want to say one final thing about Robert & Annette and Greg & Nam. I have never seen two couples more devoted to each other and more in love with each other than they are. In our day and world this is wonderful to see.

A small friend

When I announced the June 15 dinner party, Nam asked if she could bring a friend to introduce to me. I hesitated, and I think she was hurt or worse mad, but Greg told me that she doesn’t get mad. We’re back to the “shy” thing. You know my world now—it’s me and my fantasy life that spends fully 85-90 percent of the time in my house studying or searching or dreaming or writing. My social life? Robert & Annette, Greg & Nam, Marissa … and my gym (but here I have tunnel vision). It took me a while to say yes to Nam. After she asked the lady and the lady said “yes,” I felt good. Nervous, but good. Nam asked what her friend could bring, and I replied, “The fish, veggies, and salad.” She chuckled online, “Ha-ha. Very funny.” I told her that all the lady had to bring was herself.

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Nam Maradei and a small friend in the living room at Tujunga House on June 15. I had missed an opportunity when I opened the door, but I would not miss it twice. Here you can see Pailin’s eyes and smile that grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

On June 15 Robert and Annette arrived first. Robert knew the house but Annette didn’t. As we walked through the rooms, Robert paused and said, “I think I heard a knock.” I went to the front door. Greg was at the door, with Nam below him, and a small lady farthest away. She was holding orchids and smiling. With eyes drawn to her my heart skipped a beat or three or five. I should have had a camera in my hand, but didn’t (story of my life—read into that whatever you want).

I had promised Nam and Annette that Flynn wouldn’t dominate the conversation, and that if Robert and Greg got too bad that I’d send them to the corner of the room while the ladies and I retreated to another room. Of course the ladies had to remind me of this. The fellows were understanding, and without being exiled to the corner of the room they placed Mr. Flynn on hold more than once.

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Nuch in the backyard at Tujunga House on June 15. She has an open warmness that drew me to her immediately. (photo © Louis Kraft 2013)

Nam had told me her friend was shy and she was. Her name is Pailin Subanna. “Nuch.” Nuch had a quiet presence, a quiet control of what went on around her. She’s a good listener and she fit in. Robert later told me he thought she was poised, and I couldn’t agree more. I’m a gentleman (probably some people might disagree with this; all I can say is that I try). On this day I was definitely on good behavior, and when combined with my shyness, it guaranteed I wouldn’t say too much. Which was good, for it meant I couldn’t stuff my foot down my throat.

I enjoyed this day and evening.

Alas, the time for everyone to leave came too quickly. But by this time I knew one thing—I wanted Nuch to enter my life, I wanted her to become my friend.

We had talked about our social media, and later that night connected. Social media gave us the opportunity to share our thoughts and set a time for us to meet.

__________

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This was a special day for we had the opportunity to walk and talk and get to know each other. The day ended too quickly, but I drove home knowing one thing–I wanted to see her again and again and again. All these images are from Nuch’s camera (and she shared them with me). She did the design of the portrait of her within a film strip.

And the good news is that we are getting to know each other while enjoying each other’s company. Exploration and learning are always fun. She has a good sense of humor, is very feminine, and has a sensitivity that I have not seen in many people. She likes to explore, and from what she has told me, she has the adventurous spirit of some of the men that have caught my interest over time, … Francis Drake, Kit Carson, Ned Wynkoop, and Errol Flynn. I’m not joking here, for she has no fear to set out into the unknown. Nuch is a brave person.

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Nuch & lk at the Autry National Center in Los Angeles, Ca., on June 27, 2013. Like the following image, it captures two people enjoying the closeness of each other. Nuch took this photo, did the art work, and turned it into a postage stamp. I like it, for it gives us good hope for our future. (photo & art © Pailin Subanna 2013)

She also has a tender touch. Physically and inside her. She has an intimate feel for the moment, and is in tune with her inner being as well as what is going on with us. Her openness to what she senses and reacts to is something that has been with me since those long gone days of the acting world, something I haven’t experienced with another lady in decades.* When someone has this gift, and Nuch does, culture and language are not barriers. For me culture and language are a lure, an enticement to know another human being. It has always been this way with me, and I think for Nuch, too. It has, in a very short time, given us a closeness that is special.

* Acting training includes exercises wherein you get in tune with another human being. Facing each other, and without doing anything you react off what you see, feel, and sense. The goal is to make you open to what is happening around you so that you can grasp it, understand it, and react to it. Everyone should go through this type of training.
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Nuch & lk at the Autry National Center in Los Angeles, Ca., on June 27, 2013. I like this image as it captures the joy at the beginning of our relationship. (photo & art © Pailin Subanna 2013)

My life has been out of balance for years now. I have my writing, my friends, and Marissa, but there has been a missing piece. But no longer, for Nuch has opened her heart and become my friend. And listening to her words and knowing what is going on inside me, I think that our friendship is going to grow. My life has suddenly found a new balance.

lk: “นี่คือผู้หญิงที่สำหรับฉัน” .และเธอเป็นผู้หญิงของฉัน” (khụ̄x p̄hū̂h̄ỵing thī̀ s̄ảh̄rạb c̄hạn .Læa ṭhex pĕn p̄hū̂h̄ỵing k̄hxng c̄hạn)