MTA giant gone
Pub Date: 1/1/2003
One of the few remaining "godfathers" of the Montana Tavern Association and a founder of the famed Jorgenson's Restaurant, Lounge and Motel, Don Larson, passed away January 1 in Helena.
Don was often credited as being one of a handful of the most astute businesses operators and members of the MTA who brought the organization from its primal age as a small "social club" to a mature, powerful, sophisticated and respected business association known now for its political acumen.
While none of Don and Ruth Larson s children continued in the family business, Don s niece, Barbara, and her husband, Steve Morris, purchased Jorgenson s in 1987 when Larson retired.
His wife, Ruthie, and my mother, Lucie, were the Jorgenson girls, Barb explained, though she adds, He was like a second father to me.
Before starting Jorgenson s Locker and Catering, Fred Jorgenson was a long-time chef at the Montana Club, so knew the restaurant business. In 1957, Helena businessman Fred Billerbeck built a 20-unit motel on the east edge of town. At that time, the area was mostly undeveloped and many predicted the motel would fail.
Billerbeck gave them [Fred Jorgenson, Don Larson, et al] the land for the restaurant for $1, Barb said, because he didn t think the motel would have a chance for success unless there was a restaurant there.
Jorgenson s Restaurant opened in 1958 and a bar was added to the facility a year later.
Contrary to expectations, Jorgenson s was an immediate success and with relatively close proximity to the Capitol, it became a favorite hangout of state legislators and lobbyists.
In 1998, the late Gary Langley, then Montana Tavern Times editor, reminisced with Larson. Here s how Langley reported it:
As he watched the State Capitol lights dim every night, Don Larson called out to his crew at Jorgenson s Restaurant and Lounge, Get ready. Here they come!
We could see the lights of 100 cars coming down the hill and nine out of 10 of them would be coming here, he said recently as he sat near the back of the room where he spent 30 years from 1958 to 1988.
That was during the 1960s and early 70s, the days of the watering holes, where lobbyists served food and drink to legislators in the basement banquet room of Jorgenson s. It was the free-wheeling days of lobbying and lawmaking with representatives of the Anaconda Co., S&H Green Stamps, Mountain Bell and the Montana Power Co., among others, serving barons of beef, ham, turkeys and lots and lots of booze.
They d shut the doors downstairs and then they d come up here (into the lounge), Larson remembered.
His eyes roll back in his head and he places his hands on his temples.
Langley s article explained that things changed, somewhat, over the years.
Younger legislators were replacing older hands in the legislature. They basically shut down the watering holes. Once the watering holes dried up, Jorgenson s catered house parties which had become popular during legislative sessions. And that s when Larson honed his lobbying skills.
Larson remembers one incident when the legislature was considering an open container bill.
I was catering a party at a senator s house and I told him I wouldn t be able to cater parties anymore if they wanted booze because I was carrying bottles in my truck that had been opened, Larson said.
The bill was killed.
It was easy for me to lobby because I knew all the guys, Larson said.
Back to the present, Barb Morris, joined by her sister, Bonnie Andrew, who is Jorgenson s bookkeeper, reminisced about their Uncle Don.
He always took good care of us, Barb said. We even lived with him for four months when my mother was at the Mayo Clinic.
He also got his children and nieces working at an early age.
He d start us as busboys or hostesses. I started work as a hostess at age 15.
Barb also remembers Don as a canny businessman.
He handled the business side of the property, and you didn t want to ever do anything wrong. He d catch you. We called him Radar. We put a sign above the bar saying, This area patrolled by Radar. Customers would ask, What does that mean?
While Don was a hard-working businessman who expected results from employees, Barb said, He always had a smile on his face. Even if he wasn t feeling good, he d just smile and ask how you were doing.
Bonnie added, The man was a saint. He had the most amazing patience. He was a good friend to everybody. He always kept up with everyone and everything.
Still, Bonnie said with a note of caution, If you knew something he didn t, you were in trouble. He d have to find out.
Though Don sold Jorgenson s (which now includes the original motel and an apartment building, in addition to the bar and restaurant) to Steve and Barb Morris in 1987, he never severed his connections to the business.
He always checked on us twice a week even if he wasn t feeling well, Barb said, just to make sure we were doing okay.
Barb added that when she and Steve took over Jorgenson s it was expected that they would continue the tradition of being active in the Montana Tavern Association.
When I took over the bar I always assumed that MTA was part of the job, Barb commented. Steve, of course, just completed stints of service to MTA as president and board chairman.
I always heard they had a ton of fun at those tavern dinners, Barb reminisced. I don t think we could hold a candle to those guys.
Among the stories Don would bring home from conventions was about MTA banquets. They used to dress up in formals and tuxes, and then after the dinner they d jump in the pool in their formal clothes, Bard said with a laugh.
Don Larson was highly respected by his peers in the industry, with many years of service as president and board chairman of MTA, and went on to hold several offices, including president, with the National Licensed Beverage Association. He was the first to serve two terms as president, Barb noted.
Don battled cancer for 20 years. He always had one more thing he needed to do. He wouldn t give up until he had everything done, Bonnie said.
We called him the walking miracle, Barb added.
He inspired many people who were dealing with illness, Bonnie noted. He d say, I m not going to take the easy way out. I have things to do.
He never complained about the complications of taking chemotherapy, Barb said. He d say, It keeps me going.
At the time Larson retired, the Montana Tavern Association presented him with a small statue of Don. For many years that statue occupied a place of honor above the back bar.
We had a break-in one night, Barb recalled. The whole thing was caught on video surveillance cameras, though all we could see were flashlight beams. About all they took were some bottles and the statue of Don. They probably thought it was a fancy bottle of something.
We had another one made but as it turned out it looked more like Elvis than Don. So, we always called it the Elvis Don.
The Elvis Don went to the church for Don s funeral. The priest looked questioningly at us for bringing it to the church. We said, But that s the Elvis Don, and the Elvis Don stayed.
The Elvis Don is back in its place of honor, top and center at the back bar at Jorgenson s. More importantly, the spirit of the original Don lives on, in spirit, in the hearts of those who knew him best.