This website is dedicated to the memory of

Helen Marie Abbott

September 6, 1913 - January 2, 2008



"The force known as TRUTH haunts me. I spoke out the truth to one of the powerful, and he told me that my name and the names of my children would be dragged through the courts, and we would be shamed for the rest of our lives.

"His reply was so dire that it set me on a heartbreaking course in a search for truth which was so ugly that my admiration for Jack London the writer became enmeshed with Jack London the man. The writer still stands on his pedestal. The man, who after all is of human clay as are we all, is a figure of monumental tragedy. He died too young and he died alone. He died without the comforting hand of a single human being during the last night of agony.

"He said, once, in a time of despair, that he was sorry to have ever 'opened the books'. Jack, grandfather of my husband, great-grandfather of my children, I feel the same about having opened Pandora's box.





Jack London's grave