“I wonder if Grandpa Les ever knew Louis L’ Amour?” The question popped into my brain a few weeks ago as I stood in front of a plexiglass-covered display case holding an impressive collection of vintage paperback westerns, all written by Louis L’ Amour. The compilation resides inside a quaint writing shack at the Frontier Fort, a tourist attraction located in Jamestown, ND. The town has a population of less than twenty thousand, but it proudly boasts of being hometown to a number of famous individuals including singer Peggy Lee and writer Louis L’ Amour. I remember Grandpa Les, my maternal grandfather, as a quiet man who played lots of golf after retiring from the post office. Grandpa almost always left a Louis L’ Amour paperback sitting on the table next to his recliner. Isn’t it funny what our minds recall about our loved ones from our early years? Jamestown also happens to be my hometown. If you’ve ever driven through central North Dakota on I94 and passed by, chances are you did a double take if you spied the “World’s Largest Buffalo” just off the highway. This 26’ tall concrete structure has stood over the Frontier Fort since before I was born, and I know I’ve visited ‘the Buffalo’ at least once, every single summer. Favorite activities during these annual visits used to include playing in the railroad cars, followed by sticky fingers from dripping cones piled high with scoops of hard ice cream. I even have vague memories of skipping down to a cave in the hillside below the giant statue when I was a kid, but there are no caves now, so either my mind is playing tricks on me or the cave was filled in, perhaps deemed unsafe. This year, a rope blocks the entrance to the remaining railroad car and the shop with the ice cream was empty. While some old favorites at ‘the Buffalo’ (we never call it the Frontier Fort) are gone, new exhibits are being added. Change is a constant, even back home. This brings me back to where I started with this post, and why I insisted on visiting the Louis L’ Amour writing shack before it closed for the season. I’d picked up a well-loved (aka worn) copy of one of his books from a used bookstore earlier this summer, and I wanted to get some pictures of it alongside other mementos from the famous author’s career. This writing shack exhibit has grown in significance for me as I continue to immerse myself in the world of writing. Chances are that if you love old westerns, you’ve heard of Louis L’ Amour. As I stood reading the information on display about him, it occurred to me that he might have been around the same age as my grandfather. Was there any chance Grandpa Les knew Louis personally? I know Grandpa liked his books. Anytime I’m curious about something related to our family’s history, the first call I make is to my sister-in-law, Joey. I posed my question to her, immediately piquing her interest, too. She remembered Mom telling her that Grandpa Les was born in Wisconsin, but somewhere along the line he moved to Jamestown, well before my mother was born. If his move wasn’t until after 1923, the year the sign in the writer’s shack said Louis and his family moved away from Jamestown, then I probably had a disappointing answer to my musings. But Joey loves a mystery, so she got digging. The girl is a wizard when it comes to genealogy. It didn’t take her long to locate census records from that time period. Now we were getting somewhere. Grandpa was born on September 23, 1907, in Merrill, WI. Louis was born on March 22, 1908 in Jamestown, ND. Census records show Grandpa still living in Wisconsin with his family in 1910, but by 1920, the records indicate they’d moved to Jamestown. Suddenly, it was at least possible that these two boys, only six months apart in age, may have played basketball together at Franklin School. Or maybe they shared a table at the Alfred Dickey Free Library, crafting poems or short stories together. We know Louis blossomed into a very successful and prolific author, but I also have a booklet from Grandpa’s high school days that include pieces he (Les) wrote. The school and the library are both included as part of a walking tour which highlights locations important to Louis in his early years. Both men left this earth years ago, but their legacies live on. Louis’s legacy includes his many books, short stories, and poems, as well as numerous movies and TV shows based on his work. Grandpa’s legacy lives on and continues to expand through our family. Call me sentimental, but I’m always struck when I consider the many ways we continue to follow in the steps of those who have gone before us. I’ll never know if my Grandpa Les and Mr. Louis L’Amour played basketball together at Franklin School, but I know I played some ball there. Did the two of them both write in the library? Yes, I suspect they might have, but maybe not at the same time. I know I spent many hours there, researching papers throughout my high school years. Even now, copies of the novels I’ve written sit on the shelves in the Alfred Dickey Library. There is a whole section in the library dedicated to Louis. During my visit to the writing shack, it felt surreal to place my fingers on an old typewriter Louis might have used to craft his best-selling stories. As I sat at that desk, my daughter-in-law juggled her phone in one hand, snapping pictures of me as I “played” at what it might have felt like to be an author back in Louis’s day, while she also held my five-month-old grandson in her arms. I can still picture Grandpa’s face the first time he held my first born. Now it’s my son’s baby visiting an exhibit that honors the work and life of the man I suspect was the baby’s great great grandfather’s favorite author.
Were Les and Louis ever friends? I’ll never know. But Jamestown is a small town, and I suspect their paths crossed. Maybe they even helped each other celebrate a birthday or two. It’s a fun thought, regardless. Happy heavenly birthday, Grandpa. I miss you. Thank you for passing on your love of books to me. And thank you, Louis, for sharing your talent with the world. You both left your marks on this earth. Keep watching for those connections, Kim
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Today we celebrate Independence Day here in the United States. July 4th is often a day associated with parades, family reunions, fireworks, and barbecues. Here in North Dakota, where June weather can still be on the cool side, this holiday usually means summer is finally here. As with so many holidays, we sometimes forget the "why" behind the special day. We might not pause to think about the brave people that banded together against a much more established entity over 245 years ago, some literally fighting to the death for a cause they believed in. I tip my hat and say a heartfelt thank you to all the men and women that have fought through the years, and continue to fight, to keep us safe and free, here in the United States of America. Freedom means different things to different people. The older I get, the more I realize two things: finding true freedom is an ideal worth striving for, and there is nothing easy about it. As the saying goes, "Freedom isn't Free." The past two years have proven we can never take freedom for granted. While many of us don't literally "fight" for our freedom as part of a military branch (thank you to those that do!), we are all fighting our own battles to find and maintain the balance of freedom we seek in our own lives. It starts (and ends) with our freedom of choice. The life I live today stems from the many decisions I've made throughout my lifetime. The same holds true for you. Some are big choices that obviously change the trajectory of our lives. Some feel like much smaller, seemingly inconsequential choices we make on a daily, or even hourly, basis. But the crazy thing is, it's often those tiny choices we make that can have the most significant impact on the quality of our lives. Freedom to choose is a beautiful thing, but making the best choices for ourselves as individuals takes constant vigilance. Maybe we should each take a dry-erase marker and write this on our bathroom mirror for a daily reminder: "Make Good Choices!" Because there is little else in life that has as big an impact on the quality of our lives than the small, day-to-day choices each of us make, often with little thought. It might be how we respond to the comment of a stranger on social media, or something a loved one says. What we chose to eat for breakfast or whether we get out and walk for fifteen minutes in the fresh air versus sitting at a desk for hours on end without taking a brain break. These little choices, compounded over time, make us who we are today. A second chance in any part of our life where we'd like a "do over" is on the other side of making different choices. My hope is we learn to choose wisely more times than not. Sometimes this can take years, or decades, to learn. We'll never be perfect, but we can be better than we were yesterday. The freedom to choose what we want to do, to be, and to have can lead to a more joyful life. I can't stress enough how important it is to prioritize where we spend our precious time. The years pass much too quickly. I'm sure you've heard of "The Dash" by Linda Ellis. The poem is a poignant reminder to really live the time between our birth date and our death date and to focus on the things that matter. Every Memorial Day weekend, we visit the graves of close family and friends to plant flowers and show respect. Strolling through such a hushed place is a powerful reminder to respect the freedom we have to choose how we spend our time here on earth. As I look upon the dates on tombstones marking the end of someone's dash, I can't help but wonder if they suffered any regrets when the end came. Once again, as we celebrate Independence Day in American, I'm recommitting to the simple things:
What choices do you want to make to give you the type of freedoms you seek? What we strive for will look a little different for each of us, and isn't that the greatest freedom of all? The freedom to be ourselves?
Choose wisely and make the most of your dash... Always here to cheer you on, Kim We are empty nesters. I used to think I'd hate this stage in our lives. I was wrong. Our three grown children have (mostly) flown the coop. Years ago, I'd fret about how fast they were growing up. But then my Grandma Onie gave me a simple yet priceless piece of advice. All she said was be sure to enjoy your children at every single stage.
That one short sentence shifted the way I viewed life with my growing children. I was able to (mostly) release the ache in my heart when they'd hit yet another milestone. I still cried when I dropped them off at daycare, kindergarten, and first grade. I worried when each one transitioned from grade school to middle school to high school to college. Whether we were taking off the training wheels or handing car keys over to a student driver, I had to fight the panic. But I've tried my best to follow Grandma's advice. It wasn't always easy, but she was right. Young or old, kids are a wonder. When they eventually reach the age where they are self-sufficient, we get a little time back for ourselves. I'm fascinated by the opportunities this new time freedom represents. When I look back, I love that I can't even pick an age that was my favorite with our kids. Unless maybe it's today. Thank you, Grandma Onie, for helping me realize early in our parenting journey that every age is special, before the time slipped away. Baby snuggles, toddler tantrums, grade-school ball games, teen trials and triumphs, first jobs and first heartbreaks, college graduations, and walking them down the aisle: every stage is a gift. I'm excited for the future, I cherish the past, but I vow to enjoy my ever-evolving role as a parent. Always cheering you on, Kim Be honest. What runs through your mind when you first take your seat on an airplane? Do you hope the stranger sitting next to you will be a brilliant conversationalist and the two of you will enjoy a lively conversation for the duration of your upcoming flight? Or do you avert your eyes, pull out a book, and pop some earbuds in, sending the signal that you’re not interested in small talk? I default to option #2 most often, although I do like to at least say ‘hello’ before I bury my nose in my latest read. But magic can unfold when we open ourselves up to conversation. Three years ago, in September 2018, I found myself on a flight next to a woman I didn’t know. My daughters were elsewhere on the plane. It was a spur-of-the-moment trip and our seats weren’t together. I likely exchanged a quick greeting with the woman, but nothing more. I was mapping out the logistics of the launch of my second novel. She was busy on her phone. Eventually I noticed she was typing paragraph after paragraph on her tiny device. This intrigued me. I think I may have even asked if she was pulling together a blog post, although I don’t remember exactly how that initial conversation started. I do remember mentioning I was a new author, something I wouldn’t normally tell a stranger. There can be rare moments in life when we click with someone we only just met. We clicked. She said her name was Tara. Tara talked about her passion around the retreats she ran in California involving horses. It sounded fascinating. She mentioned her grown son, and how proud she was of his accomplishments. I could relate. We were traveling to my daughter’s interview at a graduate school, and I was a proud momma as well. I think Tara was traveling home after visiting her son. Again, I’ve lost the threads of our conversation, but our chat would be the start of a budding friendship that’s turned out to be a true blessing in my life. Our flight was running late. We both had tight connections with little chance of making our next flights. I gave her one of my shiny new business cards, and she gave me her contact information. Often this will be the end of this type of exchange, but for us, it was just the beginning. Luck was smiling down on us that day, and we made our connection. Tara did, too. We had a wonderful time on our girls’ trip. We dipped our toes in the ocean (always a treat since we live in land-locked North Dakota!), my daughter’s interview went well, and she’s now starting her third year in the program she interviewed for on the day after that fateful flight. After we got home, I checked out Tara’s website, curious. It surprised and saddened me to learn she was in the midst of a fight for her very life. She was battling cancer (something she never mentioned during our initial visit) and trying to save her Wind Horse Sanctuary. Tara is very active on social media, and I’ve slowly gotten to know more about this woman I randomly met on an airplane. She’s articulate, funny, supportive, and incredibly brave. We stay in touch. She’s generously taught me valuable tidbits about the various social media platforms. She watched a video of the very first podcast interview I ever gave. In the episode, I talked about my path to becoming a published author. She reached out to me after watching it, intrigued, and we continued to communicate back and forth. Her health struggles escalated, and I had grave concerns for Tara. To make matters worse, she shared that her mother was battling cancer as well. We live very different lives, Tara and I. She moved to beautiful Kauai, is a fiercely independent woman, and lives in a yurt surrounded by pets and horses. We marvel at the differences in our surroundings, particularly in the winter, when her weather is mild and ours is ridiculously frigid. When COVID struck the world, she put out an offer to say a special prayer for anyone in need. She was traveling to a sacred location along the ocean and wanted to offer hope and encouragement. It was April 2020, and my father was in the hospital, suffering from this scary new virus and fighting for his life. I reached out to Tara, told her what was happening, and she offered up a special prayer for Dad (Dad recovered!) I felt compelled to send Tara a copy of my first book, Whispering Pines. I hoped she’d find the story fun and uplifting, something to make her smile, to entertain her on hard days. Her cancer treatments are tough and ongoing. She’d mentioned a desire to write her own memoir, and I encouraged her. If ever a story needed to be told, it was Tara’s. She has a knack for finding the gifts hidden within her struggles. She shares those struggles with the world, not for sympathy, but as an example of how to overcome life’s challenges. Tara is like a candle, bringing light to a world that has far too many shadows. We both went on living our lives, and Tara began pulling her memoir together. Since I had a few novels out by that time, she’d reach out occasionally with questions about the more technical aspects of writing a book. I knew she’d enrolled in an online course, much as I had when I was first starting out, but I don’t believe we ever discussed the specifics. Then something crazy happened. When she reached the end of Whispering Pines, she read the Acknowledgement section. It’s a long section given it was my very first book, and I was bursting with excitement and gratitude when I finally reached that last step. We were both in for a big shock. Unbeknownst to either of us, we’d ended up taking the same online course for self-publishing. That was a fun coincidence. But the shocker came when she read the ‘thank you’ I’d included in the back of my book to Ramy Vance, my book coach. She was smack dab in the middle of her own coaching sessions with Ramy! What are the odds? We took that same program, a couple of years apart, and they have lots of coaches. I love when things like this happen. And I’m so proud of Tara. Despite many obstacles, she finished her amazing book and published it in August: Grace, Grit & Gratitude-A Cancer Thriver’s Journey from Hospice to Full Recovery with the Healing Power of Horses, author Tara Coyote. The book is selling like gangbusters, as it should. Tara has faced incredible odds, and she keeps coming out on top. A few weeks ago, we made another trip out to the western US, this time to visit our daughter at the school she interviewed with during the same trip when I met Tara. I thought it was fitting to get a picture of me showing off Tara’s wonderful new book while on the plane. I hope I played a small part in helping her bring her story to the world. Tara’s also been working her way through all of my books. She reached out to me recently to discuss my approach to a difficult death scene in my latest book “Celia’s Gifts.” My ongoing communications with Tara remind me that the fresh paths we choose to travel can lead to new friendships. We’re learning together as we navigate the complicated world of publishing. I’m so glad I didn’t stick my nose in a book three years ago and ignore the woman sitting next to me on that plane! I invite you to check out Tara’s story. I hope she’ll inspire you, too. You’ll find her all over social media, bringing attention to her many important causes. My favorite place to stay up to date with her is on Instagram at @taracoyote and @gracegritgratitudebook (be careful not to click on one of the unscrupulous people that are coming out of the woodwork pretending to be her now that she is seeing success with her book!) If you’d like to check out her book, here is a link you may find helpful: I encourage you to keep watching for opportunities to connect with positive, uplifting people like Tara in what is becoming an increasingly divisive world. There are countless wonderful people out there, and you never know where a simple hello might take you.
You just might find some magic of your own! Kim |
Kimberly Diede AuthorHello everyone and welcome to my blog! My name is Kimberly Diede and I'm a fiction author and family girl. When time permits, I am happiest with a great cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. I love to alternate between reading and writing. Winters here can be long, dark and cold. Summers are unpredictable, lovely and always too short. Every season of the year, as in every season of life, is a gift. Let's celebrate it together! Archives
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