Louis L’Amour Story: L’Amour Family, Alfred Dickey and a Reporter

Keith Norman

Keith Norman is a published author. He is a photographer. He is a reporter for the Jamestown Sun. He is a constant researcher at Alfred Dickey Library looking for historical stories about Jamestown and its citizens including Louis L’Amour.

L’Amour Family, Alfred Dickey and a Reporter

Sometimes doing research on a story with the assistance of the Alfred Dickey Library, turns into research about the library.

Recently, during a project gathering information on the Battle of Big Mound, fought in Kidder County in 1863, the books the library supplied gave me an unexpected look at the town of Jamestown and the people who made the Alfred Dickey Library possible.

The book was “Yet She Follows” written by Edna LaMoore* Waldo, sister of western writer Louis L’Amour, about their grandmother Betty Freeman Dearborn. Betty’s father, Ambrose Freeman, was killed at the Battle of Big Mound near Tappen, N.D.

Ambrose’s death and scalping was noted in the author’s notes of a couple hundred million Louis L’Amour westerns over the decades as proof of his western roots.

Edna’s story, actually the recollections of her grandmother about the incident, point out going hunting for antelope in the vicinity of hostiles and a battle can lead to disaster.

The story did not end with young Betty losing her father but continued with her marriage to Abraham Truman Dearborn and their life in Jamestown in the 1880s. It was a glimpse of a Jamestown that was only a decade old.

The Dearborn home, just down the hill from the former site of Fort Seward, was on the wrong end of Jamestown. Even living amidst the seedier side of the frontier town, the family had friends of importance.

According to Edna’s story in “Yet She Follows” the Dearborn family, especially daughter Emily the mother of Edna and Louis, had a friendship with Jamestown businessman Alfred Dickey.

In the fall of 1890, Emily wrote a letter to Dickey asking if he thought she could work as a clerk at the upcoming session of the North Dakota Legislature.

Dickey was a good man to ask, he was the Lieutenant Governor for that initial session after statehood had been granted.

“I would not advise you to do it,” wrote Dickey in response. “The work is light and the pay is good, but unless you have some very good friends to board with, you had better not.”

*LaMoore is the traditional spelling of L’Amour. Louis changed it to a French version.

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Louis L’Amour Story – Louis L’Amour and My English Class

Bruce Berg

Bruce has taught in the Speech, and English departments at Rugby High School and Jamestown High School. He has taught in the Speech, English and Education departments at the University of Jamestown. He is a published author and frequent contributor to public radio programs.

Louis L’Amour and my English Class

IN 1972 LOUIS L’AMOUR CAME BACK TO JAMESTOWN TO BE HONORED BY JAMESTOWN COLLEGE. I WAS TOLD THAT HE WOULD BE AT THE LIBRARY IN THE LATE  MORNING SO I MADE QUICK PLANS TO TAKE MY 3RD PERIOD ENGLISH CLASS TO THE LIBRARY TO CHECK OUT HIS AGENDA.  NOT MUCH HAD BEEN SCHEDULED FOR HIM AND I FOUND HIM AVAILABLE TO SIT AT A TABLE WITH ME AND ENGAGE IN A BRIEF CHAT.

HIS WRITING SISTER EDNA L’AMOUR WALDO  WAS AT THE EAST END OF THE LIBRARY GIVING A TALK ABOUT HER WRITING.  I WAS CONSCIOUS OF THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE TWO WRITERS AND HAD HEARD THAT LOUIS WAS NOT GENUFLECTED TO BY HIS SISTER. I HAD A PAPERBACK COPY OF L’AMOUR’S “SITKA” AND I ASKED HIM TO SIGN THE BOOK FOR ONE OF THE FEW AUTOGRAPHS I HAVE.  HE TOLD ME THAT THE LIBRARY WAS VERY IMPORTANT TO HIM DURING HIS JAMESTOWN DAYS, 1908-1923,AND HE THOUGHT HE’D READ EVERY BOOK IN THE ALFRED DICKEY LIBRARY.

I DON’T REMEMBER HOW MUCH EXPOSURE MY JAMESTOWN HIGH SCHOOL CLASS HAD WITH L’AMOUR THAT DAY IN 1972, BUT I KNOW HE WAS THE FAVORITE WRITER FOR A NUMBER OF STUDENTS WHO READ LITTLE ELSE.

Louis L’Amour Story: Louis L’Amour and My Dad

Mike Morrissey

Mike Morrissey is a former bootblack, grocery-bagger, and soda-bottler. He has also been privileged to be a teacher, public school superintendent, university professor, and Fulbright recipient

Louis L’Amour and My Dad

                  Louis, Dad & Mom, early 70’s

I met Louis L’Amour once, and at my age then, the meeting could not have been more perfect. He was passing through Valley City, or, alternatively, he had been brought there by Dad’s brother, Joe, from Jamestown, so that Lou might say hello to Dad after the passage of a lot of years since their last time together.   The time of the rendezvous was post WWII, the exact year of which I am unsure. But the meeting was perfect from my point of view because little was required, and nothing expected of me, a lad of eight or nine, circa 1949. The meeting is in black and white, the color of things post-war. Dad introduced me in the manner of “Son, this is my old friend, Louie L’Amour. We grew up together over in Jimtown…knocked down quite a few mallards back in the day, eh Lou?” I was able to shake hands, utter a syllable or two, and then get the heck out of the room. I disappeared at the earliest opportunity, never to converse with Mr. L’Amour again. If I had realized that he would one day be the most prolific author in the United States, I might have hung around longer. But more than likely, not. It was the way of young boys back then, a full load of tree-climbing and cave digging already on the week’s agenda…maybe a snake or two to be killed. I had heard of Louis L’Amour of course; had formed a picture in my mind’s eye from stories that Dad would tell about taking the younger lad (three years) hunting ducks and geese among the many sloughs that young boys could walk to from Jamestown, shotguns broken and cradled in an arm. Also, Dad’s brothers would mention Lou from time to time when the four of them were together.    After Lou had passed away and Dad was into his decline, I had a copy of L’Amour’s posthumously published Education of a Wandering Man when I visited my parents in St. Paul. “Hey Dad,” I said, “Do you remember this picture being taken?” showing him a picture from left to right, Dad, Uncle Rich, Evan Lougheed, Art Ringuette and Louis L’Amour, looking out over an early Ford pickup. (1922-23)

Dad, coming out of the fog of his newspaper article, took a quick look and responded, “Wonder where the hell he found that!” Then, as quickly, back to the newspaper article. In less than ten months, Dad would be able to ask ‘Ol Lou himself… perhaps as they meandered the duck sloughs of eternity.