In memory of two great human beings

Ernie Richardson (left), James Louie (right)

Updated 7/18/2025 2:35 PM

As we get older, health concerns become a prime issue. Not just for our own health, but the health of the ones around us. Unfortunately, when you hit your 70s, much of the news is the kind you would rather not hear.

That is the way it was this week when I learned of the death of two friends and very fine gentlemen — Ernie Richardson and James Louie.

You may not have known Ernie or James, but your lives would have been enriched if you had. They touched a great many lives, making their mark in very different ways.

Richardson died of cancer-related issues in Hoover, Ala., where he moved from Portland shortly after he retired after a long stint working at Darigold Dairy in 2011. He was 71.

Louie, the co-proprietor of the legendary Huber’s cafe, died of colon-related issues in Portland. He was 79.

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Richardson, a linebacker at Oregon State during the Dee Andros Era, was a native of New York City. He grew up with four sisters in Greenwich Village, the son of the man in charge of maintenance of the building in which the family lived. Ernie attended Seward Park High, located on the lower east side of Manhattan. He was a big kid and a good athlete, but he didn’t play sports at Seward Park, an inner-city school that didn’t even have a football field.

His interest in forestry drew him to the Northwest. He first chose Washington State and flew out to the campus, only to learn that his entrance papers had not been submitted properly and his admittance was denied. Oregon State was next on his list, and after a couple of calls to administration he headed via Greyhound to Corvallis, where he knew not a soul.

Ernie was always an individual, and as a freshman he put in for fraternity rush, despite the fact that very few blacks had ever pledged a frat at OSU. He took heat from some of his black teammates for doing so, but it truly didn’t bother him — he just liked people.

I was a member of Delta Tau Delta fraternity, a year ahead of Ernie, and that is where our paths crossed. A frat brother and I were in the street during rush week, playing catch with a football, when Ernie walked up. He joined the game and, to make a long story short, joined our fraternity.

If there was a more popular member of the house in his four years at OSU, I am not aware of him. Ernie was gregarious, engaging and always ready for a good time. I believe he is the first one ever to give me a man-hug. We did it hundreds of times over the years.

“We will all remember Ernie’s kindness, laughter and the biggest smile on the OSU campus,” wrote one frat brother on a memorial post.

“He was filled with a positive energy and emanated that to all he encountered,” wrote another.

“One of the happiest people I have ever met,” wrote a third. “He will take that joy with him to the next stop on his journey.”

As a sophomore, Ernie walked on to the football team. He was 6-4, 220, agile, strong and fast, but he had zero experience with the game, and it showed. Andros put him at linebacker and began the slow process of making him a football player. Ernie sat the bench and played some JV ball as a sophomore, played a little bit on special teams as a junior, and then got his chance for a regular role as a senior.

It was Dee’s final season at the OSU helm, and the Beavers went 1-10. Ernie was the catalyst to the sole victory, making a dozen tackles and forcing the fumble that set up the game’s only score in a 7-0 victory over Washington State. He was named Pac-8 Defensive Player of the Week, and at season’s end was honored as the team’s Most Improved Defensive Player.

Ernie’s potential got him free-agent tryouts with the Seattle Seahawks (in their first NFL season) and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers of the CFL, but he failed to make the grade. After doing logging and survey work for Northwest companies for a few years, he settled in Portland, working 30 years for Darigold. He also coached the defensive line at Lewis & Clark under head coach Chuck Solberg.

“Ernie was with me for three or four years,” Solberg says. “After practice, we would go out and play golf. He did a real good job coaching for us, and I really liked him. He was a friendly, easy-going guy.”

My boys remember a trip to central Oregon we made when they were young with Ernie and his son, A.J., boating, fishing, sight-seeing and having a grand old time. Ernie and I golfed — he was a left-hander and could hit the ball a mile, though sometimes sideways — and occasionally got together during his years in Portland. And we stayed in touch even after he and wife Portia departed for Alabama, where she had a job opportunity.

Two years ago, wife Steph and I got together with the Richardsons two different times in Birmingham when we were there on visits with Steph’s son, and to watch Mike Riley coach the New Jersey Generals of the USFL. It was like old times. But in the last year, he came down with prostate cancer, stage four. And now he is gone.

NEW: The Dean of Portland Sports is now on BlueSky.

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Modest. Soft-spoken. Unassuming. Charming. Classy. All describe James Louie, who with brother David has owned and operated Huber’s since 1991. James and David continued the legacy of the Louie family, which has run the longest-standing restaurant in continuous operation in the Portland metropolitan area for more than a century.

Here is a story I wrote about Huber’s and James Louie in 2023. 

In 1881, at age 11, Jim Louie — the great uncle of James and David — arrived in Portland as a stowaway on a clipper ship from China. Shortly thereafter, an uncle, Sam Louie, arrived from France and began work for a French family migrating to Oregon. Upon arriving, Sam conscripted Jim and instructed him in French cooking.

In 1891, Jim Louie was hired as chef at Huber’s. His turkey sandwich and coleslaw were legendary. In 1911, a year after the restaurant moved to its current location on SW Fourth Avenue, Jim took over as manager. During that time, the place was officially known as Huber’s, but to many customers it became “Jimmy’s.”

Jim Louie’s young brother was Hugh Louie, who emigrated to Portland in the late 1890s. Hugh was the grandfather of James and David Louie. Hugh had two children, including Andrew Louie, the father of James and David. James was born in 1946, David in 1952.

Jim Louie died in 1946, but his family has continued to run the place since then. James and David took over management duties in 1981, and James, David and sister Lucy Louie officially took over as partners 34 years ago. Lucy died in 2022.

James was a baseball player at Benson Tech, a good-field, OK-hit outfielder.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better big brother,” David Louie says. “We had a lot of fun together. He taught me how to play ball. He bought me my first baseball mitt. I would play catcher and he would play pitcher and we broke in the mitt. In the neighborhood games, I was included, even though I’m six years younger than the rest of the guys.”

Throughout his life he was a fan of the Boston Red Sox, trekking to Seattle with David to watch his team on occasion.

“I followed in James’ footsteps,” David says, who accompanied James to T-Mobile Park on June 18 to watch the Red Sox beat the Mariners 3-1. “And we went together to Boston to watch them play at Fenway Park a couple of times. If you’re a Red Sox fan, you have to go to Fenway.”

James was an Army vet, for two years stationed at Fort Bragg during the Vietnam War, working as a medic. He began working full-time at Huber’s in 1972 at age 26.

Lots of people called James “Jim,” and family referred to him as “Jimmy,” but I always knew him as James. “When I hit 50, I started putting ‘James’ on my business card,” he told me. “It had a little more impact. James Bond would not have been Agent double-O-Seven if you called him Jimmy Bond.”

For a half-century, the Spanish coffee has been Huber’s signature drink. The restaurant has served more than one million of them, and James was the catalyst for that. In 1975, he was eating dinner with wife Helen — they were dating at the time — at a Milwaukie restaurant. They were served a Spanish coffee table side, featuring rum and Kahlua and topped off with whipping cream.

James brought the idea to Huber’s, adding triple sec and nutmeg, and developed a theatrical twist. He used a match lit with one hand to light the 151 rum — and caramelize the glass’ sugar rim — then delivered the liquids to the glass via waterfall-like pours. For about five years, James was the only Spanish coffee server at Huber’s. Now, there are several bartenders there who specialize in it, and it is the restaurant’s single-biggest attraction.

In 1998, James was named as “Portland Restaurateur of the Year.” He always deflected the credit to brother David — the fix-it guy of the operation — and all the employees, many who have worked there for decades.

James was the front man of Huber’s for more than four decades. Always nattily attired in suit and tie, with a handkerchief in the pocket, he greeted all customers as friends and quickly learned their names. He could have taught a class in how to treat people. Right to the end, he put in long days, arriving at Huber’s in late morning and staying until after the dinner rush between 7 and 8 p.m.

I met James in the 1990s but really got to know him after I began at the Portland Tribune in 2001. Huber’s advertised in the Trib for awhile, and he recognized me on my visits to the restaurant, and we would chat a little.

In recent years, we became more friendly. Steph and I have visited Huber’s for Spanish coffee at least once in month, and every time, James would come to our table and spend ample time catching up, talking sports, family and any other subject of the day. He and David came to our house and we watched the 2025 Super Bowl together. James was disappointed that the Kansas City Chiefs got trounced, but we had a great time.

James’ gentle manner always put people at ease. Occasionally, I would have to ask him to speak up in the restaurant, with the din blunting his words, at least to ears that have suffered hearing loss. He was a good listener and a fun guy to be around.

We had talked about having some kind of party for him when he turned 80 next January. Regretfully, that won’t happen now.

David remains half-owner of Huber’s, and James’ share will be split by his three sons. David’s nephew, James, lives in Portland and will help run the business. David had been thinking of selling his interest, “but that’s not going to happen now,” he says. “We’re going to keep plugging away.”

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Portia Richardson says there will be a celebration of life for her late husband in Oregon in October. David Louie says a similar event will be held at Huber’s in honor of his late brother later this summer.

Two great men, gone far too soon.

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