Slidell Magazine, August 2020

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Editor’s Letter

Kendra Maness Editor/Publisher Slidell Magazine

Thank you to all of our advertisers and local businesses for bringing Slidell Magazine back to our community!

Cover: “ANTICIPATION” by keith dellsperger

Cover Artist keith dellsperger

Slidell Magazine PO Box 4147 Slidell, LA 70459 www.slidellmag.com 985-789-0687 Kendra Maness, Editor/Publisher Editor@slidellmag.com Michael Bell, Graphic Designer Graphics@slidellmag.com CONTRIBUTING WRITERS The Storyteller, The Chair - John Case Pet Points, Fearmongering - Jeff Perret, DVM 116th Anniversary of Flight - Story & Photos by Donna Bush Crimmi-Mommly Insane, High Hopes - Leslie Gates Slidell, Our History: Women’s Suffrage - Ted Lewis Legal-Ease - Ronda M. Gabb

This is the fourth cover for Slidell Magazine by artist Keith Dellsperger. “Anticipation” is an almost life-sized painting of Keith’s grandson, Tryston, captured in the glorious twilight moment before the first delicious bite of his ice cream cone. The painting debuted at the City of Slidell’s Cultural Arts Center last year in the show “All in the Family” which spotlighted paintings by Keith and stained-glass art by his wife, Kelly.

We always look forward to Keith’s works and beg him constantly to paint more. This month’s cover is sure to be an award-winner and we can’t wait to submit it for 2020 Best Cover at the New Orleans Press Club next year.

Talk about anticipation!

Making Cents of Your Money - Mike Rich Extraordinary Slidell Neighbors, Treva Brown

by Charlotte Collins

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SNeighbors lidell A biography by Charlotte Collins

Parents are recently learning how much they truly appreciate teachers. As a teacher myself, I say, finally! Great teachers have a relentless mentor mentality. This story will give you a glimpse of just how much mentoring it takes from family, friends, and faculty to guide even one student down the path from first generation college student, through undergraduate school, to graduate school, and to their career path. For me, it is a reaffirmation of my school’s motto, “Every student, Every day.” Some students charge down the path fearlessly; others require a beacon at every turn; and some veer off on their own alternate paths. Here, we'll meet a little girl who needed the beacons, stayed the course, and grew to become the brightest beacon imaginable for other students.

The first portrait I will paint for you is a little girl, hiding behind her mother’s skirt. She peeks out, and the first thing you see is her shy smile. This warm smile belies her reticence, as do her dark eyes. They are large and full of curiosity. The little girl’s mother explained to everyone she met that her daughter wasn’t at all shy around the house. But bring in a stranger, or even a relative 6

she may not see often, and Treva Tarnese Brown was instantly peeking from behind mom’s skirt again.

Now, I present a second portrait - Treva as an adult - a beautiful, intelligent scientist, one whose passion is outreach.

She has a way of drawing adults and children alike to her. She is, as you would imagine, particularly good with the quiet, shy children.

As my readers know, I like to bring you along as I describe my interview interactions, what I see and hear, and what is felt. I like to go into the home or business of my focus person to give you a feel for their environment. However, I am writing this on March 21, 2020, the day Louisiana was ordered to shelter at home due to COVID-19. I worried how this may affect my writing, but Treva's enthusiasm literally leapt through the phone. My concern was for naught.

Luckily, I had just recently been able to put a face to this voice at our St. Patrick's Day parade in Slidell. It took place only days before anyone was worried about the virus in the U.S. My eyes were drawn to her in the crowd, seated on the back of a convertible, surrounded by vegetables and beads.

Dr. Treva T. Brown

Her skin glowed against the emerald green gown. But what drew me over to hand her my card was her smile!

Then I noticed the sign on the car that read "2020 Woman of the Year in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM)." I teach high school art at an online school, and have done so long before the pandemic of 2020. Treva and I spoke about the obvious ties between art and science, and her coming into my live-session room to present to my students. Teaching online is all about audio and visual connections!

As I swirled into my usual patterns of wake and sleep the next few nights, I dreamed her into my monthly article.

This is a story about staying the course, against all odds. It is also about the power of positive influences we are capable of sharing as parents and mentors of all sorts. I love that Slidell Magazine wants me to write about the positive side of people. So, here is an article about hope, dreams, and tenacity, as told through one woman who “weathered the storm,” and broke though to find the sunlight on the other side...

Treva began our phone conversation with, “I want to start with a common question people always seem to ask me, 'How did you get into science?' There are very few females in the sciences, and even fewer that are women of color.

I feel like young people could learn a lot from my story.”

Treva went back in time to explain when the seed was planted for that little girl in the first portrait. “As a young person, I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I truly think most people share this same doubt. My becoming a scientist happened because of a chain of experiences.”

It is important to note that Treva is a first-generation college graduate. That’s a big deal! Her parents, Leslie Brown Jr and Gwen Brown did not have that opportunity, but they always encouraged their daughter to follow her dreams. As she was their only child, they were able to support her love for dance throughout her elementary and secondary school years in Baton Rouge. She attended Baton Rouge Academic Magnet High School. It wasn’t until her 11th grade in high school that her physics teacher, Mrs. Cao, told her about a new program for Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics, referred to as the STEM fields.

Laughing at herself, Treva admitted, “I thought it was like the stem of a plant.

Then, I looked into STEM to find out exactly what it meant. I immediately began mentally weeding out most of the fields related with STEM. I didn't like math in high school. I thought about technology, and told myself that I didn't want to spend my days looking at a computer screen. And engineering seemed like it was going to be math intensive. Then, I began looking into the other fields in sciences. Initially, the only two disciplines that I could think of was biology and chemistry.

I remembered that biology meant dissecting frogs, and I hated that!” She laughed as she related that memory to me. “I didn’t seem particularly drawn to physics. That left chemistry as the

only possibility. I found that LSU had a great chemistry program. When I found a scholarship program called the Louisiana STEM Scholars Program, I got excited again.”

Looking on the website for the department, she discovered an African American male scientist who was the Chair of the program. She remembered thinking, “There's somebody that looks like me! He's not a female, but he's a minority. So I went ahead and applied.

I was chosen to be part of what was called 'Selection Weekend.'" This was a three day interview process starting on a Friday evening and continuing through Sunday. It sounded grueling.

I could only wonder how the shy girl would handle this.

By that Friday evening, Treva was jittery.

“I was literally sitting on my hands, and talking to some of the participants. They honestly seemed like they knew a little bit more than I did. Maybe it was just 'imposter syndrome' but I definitely felt out of place. Saturday was the interview with Dr. Warner, the chemist that was over the program. Of course, I'm super nervous, because I'm looking at him like an idol. Here is this chemistry scientist, and two other bigwigs with the scholarship program. Dr. Warner just kept looking at me. He said, ‘I see something in you that reminds me of myself.”

It was a hard weekend but Treva got through it. She convinced herself that she had failed the interviews and resigned herself to just get on with life. Then, in May, she got a letter from the scholarship program. "When I opened it, a whole bunch of LSU colored confetti came flying out! It said, ‘Congratulations, we want you to be in the LSU Louisiana STEM Scholars Program.’"

The caveat was that she had to start that summer. Treva explained what this meant, “Literally, as soon as I graduated from high school, I was going on to college. I left home on my birthday on June 3, 2006. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through all these changes!”

"The faculty of this program took us under their wing. They taught us about studying, and how to space out our study sessions to make the effort more meaningful, instead of cramming or doing really long sessions. Just little tips like that make all the difference.

So, we worked together as an amazing science study group with mentors from seasoned students.”

Fast forward from the summer into the fall. Part of the scholarship program requirements was to do undergraduate research. "I looked on the faculty page of the College of Science website, and felt completely overwhelmed! I didn't know any of the terminology they were using. I thought to myself, ‘I'm not smart enough for this.'” With another laugh, Treva described slugging through each professor’s research synopsis. Talking it through with her parents and mentors, she chose the one professor that stood out for her. The paper discussed her work with gold, and it spurred Treva's curiosity enough to email Dr. Jayne Garno, who agreed to meet the young STEM scholar.

“I'll never forget that meeting. I told her, ‘Look, I really don't know what I'm doing. This whole college thing is new to me. Science is new to me, let alone Chemistry, and research is certainly new to me.’ Dr. Garno laughed and told me that when she was my age, she was the exact same way. She had no clear career direction, and took a job for General Motors. It wasn’t long before she realized she didn't want to do that all her life. So she decided to go to college, then graduate school.

We just clicked, and she took me under her wings. Her nickname for me was her ‘freshman baby.’ I would be with her from my freshman year until I graduated, so that was a great relief.”

Dr. Garno, Dr. Warner, and other mentors at LSU helped her stay the path. This was not the attitude of everyone she met. Because Treva was struggling with her Physics class, her academic advisor suggested she change majors.

She called her into her office and bluntly 7

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said, “Look, I don't see you graduating with a degree in chemistry from LSU. I've taken the liberty to print out three different degree options for you, pick one.” Treva had continued her dance in college, and was minoring in it, so a General Studies degree was one of those options.

She pictured her family and friends that believed in her.

She pictured Dr. Garno and found the words, “Oh no, I’m graduating from LSU with a degree in Chemistry, just watch me!”

Do you recall the 2016 movie Hidden Figures? It is about the African American female mathematicians that were behind the scenes in the NASA Space Program. Treva pictured the scene where Katherine Johnson was getting ready to give up. But finally, she found somebody to believe in her. In that one instance in Treva’s life, that scene in the movie definitely resonated with the young science student. She asserted, “I get teary eyed at that point in the movie because I realize that it was women like that who paved the way for me. I determined that I could be in a position to continue paving the way for future generations. It wouldn’t be easy, but I had to do it to pay things forward!”

But inside, she was shaking. She ran into Dr. Warner’s office and it all tumbled out. Treva painted the scene, “He never turned around from his computer the whole time I'm sobbing and crying and hysterical. When I finally got quiet, he reminded me that I came to LSU with the determination to get a degree, and I chose chemistry. He asked if I still loved chemistry. When I confirmed that, he asked, ‘You’ve worked hard to get to this point, so what's the difference now? Because this lady told you that you couldn't do it?

What do you think about graduating in chemistry?' Once I assured myself and him, he said calmly, ‘Well, you need to dry up all those tears. Remember, that's why we're here to help you.'”

Because of Dr. Warner and Dr. Garno, she not only refused the advisor’s advice, but also made it through even her most difficult classes. Now Treva’s words tumbled out. “Dr. Garno encouraged me to write my first scientific article, which got published! I was winning all kinds of awards, and getting accepted for presentations. It was insane! I finally found my wings and a career path.” This voice was the one I heard on St. Patty’s Day, when she was sitting high on the trunk of the convertible in front of my family’s business. Imagine if we listened to the nay-sayers in our life. Thank goodness Treva surrounded herself with positive people!

Treva not only found her direction, but also discovered a passion for microscopes. Not ordinary microscopes, but the big, high-powered ones called electron scanning microscopes. She could look in detail at something about the size of one strand of your hair, and be able to visualize the details down to one angstrom. I learned

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that is one hundred-millionth of a centimeter. Now her path in Chemistry narrowed further with microscopy as a focus. Then the University of New Orleans reached out to her with a fellowship opportunity, and a chance to go to graduate school and earn a PhD! All of this sounds very straight forward, but for the little girl who never envisioned this environment, it was quite daunting. “I was just like a deer in the headlights, because I didn't know what to expect. I also didn't know how self motivated you had to be, because that was my biggest weakness. I was one of the few female students in a male dominated faculty. So that, in itself, presented some difficulties, as I had to matriculate through graduate school with mostly males as my fellow colleagues. I always tell people, it wasn't an easy road, by any stretch of the imagination. I almost quit several times."

Another professor/mentor at Treva's college, Dr. John Wiley, was about to impact her life path forever. "He knew that I was a social butterfly and that I had a passion for outreach. By this time, I was the president of our Graduate Chemical Society. We all did outreach activities for different schools in the area. He knew that I was having difficulty in the basic research, but he also knew that I had a love for outreach; so, he suggested that I consider a PhD in Chemical Education." This gave her much to think about!

When she was close to quitting, she relied on her mentors, Dr. Warner and Dr. Garno. "They encouraged me by offering that I just needed to think about what I was doing in a different way.” Dr. Garno encouraged Treva to combine her love for microscopy with the work she was doing in inorganic chemistry. She offered Treva the use of her lab to figure out the creative link between the two fields. "My parents reminded me how I far I had come, and that our community and other young ladies are looking up to me as a female scientist in the future. My mom just gave me my whole life in three seconds!"

Treva was writing her dissertation when her professor called. He wanted to know if she had started looking for jobs. Of course she hadn’t. Dr. Wiley continued, “Stennis Space Center called me and asked about you.” Treva’s voice jumped through the phone as she repeated her reaction, “'WHAT, Stennis Space Center? You mean ... like NASA?' He walked into my office with the largest smile on his face. He told me that a scientist from the U.S. Naval Research Laboratory (NRL), by the name of Dr. Brenda Little, was asking about my microscopy skills because they had a position that was opening up for one.

Apparently, they wanted to come out and talk to me in person. By now I'm pinching myself, and repeating, ‘This can't be true. This doesn't happen. I haven't even finished my dissertation.’"

Now Dr. Wiley advised her to prepare her curriculum VITAE, the academic version of a resume, and a presentation

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Left: Treva with parents, Leslie & Gwen Brown in 2019. Middle: Treva in the lab. Right: The 2016 movie "Hidden Figures" was inspirational to Treva. "I determined that I could be in a position to continue paving the way for future generations."

showcasing the work she did in graduate school, and tailor it to fit what they were trying to accomplish at the NRL at Stennis. The whole presentation of her eight years as a student and what she could bring to NRL at Stennis had to be edited down to five minutes.

So this is how she met her future colleague, Dr. Jason Lee. She expounded, “He was so laid back, and I was so nervous.

I'll never forget he had on jeans and a polo shirt. As a woman, you can imagine how much I stressed to look conservative but not too dressy. Jason was very sweet, so I relaxed. I went through my presentation, and we get to the end where I had to tell him how I thought my expertise would help what they were doing at NRL at Stennis. Dr. Lee was excited and chiming in with possibilities, so I felt really good about the interview."

At a follow-up site visit, Treva was offered a job, contigent upon her graduation.

This gave her just 3 months to finish her seven chapter dissertation. “I did it! And I walked across the stage in December 2017!”

She was in the dressing room at Lakeside Mall when she received the email offering her the position of Physical Scientist at the U.S. Naval Research Laboratory at Stennis Space Center.

Treva described the scene with gusto, “I just let out a huge scream. I texted my parents and they called me. My dad was crying, something he never does. My mom was super excited. It was amazing! Then, later that evening, I found out that I was selected for a National Award for Leadership from the National Organization of Black Chemists and Chemical Engineers. This was all too good to be true, because it had

been so difficult for me up to that point.”

Today, she is one of few females and the only African American PhD scientist in her section. Treva has now been a scientist at Stennis since January of 2018. Dr. Little has retired, and now other people are coming to Treva for answers.

She made the switch from mentee to mentor. She is held accountable for figuring things out independently now, and to be self motivated. She feels fortunate to be able to surround herself with colleagues that are her seniors, because they offer a lot of insight and advise. She now has a whole other source of mentors, on a whole different level. “I could literally spend all day on my microscope, because that's my first love with science.”

One of her recent experiments was basically a cleaning project. She grew bacteria on metal chips called “coupons”

Treva has received more awards and recognition than we have space for in the magazine! Just a few of them include National Leadership Award recipient, Ms. Black St. Tammany Parish, New Orleans' Women Mean Business 2020 Woman of the Year in S.T.E.M., Empowered Diva Honoree, and Ms. Black Empowerment Louisiana.

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Treva's mentors played an invaluable role in her life. 1.) At her PhD graduation with Professor Wiley & her parents.

2.) With Dr. Garno. 3.) Her first mentor at LSU, Dr. Warner. 4.) Treva pays it forward as a student teacher & mentor at UNO

with different metal top coats on those metals. Then she studied cleaning agents and their effect based on the different surfaces. Treva asked, “Metal surfaces tend to look pretty clean, right?

I saw bacteria under the microscope, believe me, there was a lot of them! I tell you that those organisms are just fascinating to study, the way that they grow into networks like vines on the ground and these bacteria come in different shapes, and sizes...then when you add gram staining, which add those brilliant colors to differentiate the cells, it’s downright mesmerizing! Microbiology is just beautiful!” She summed it up with, “The interesting caveat is that, to the naked eye, it looks clean, as if nothing is there. It certainly makes you rethink about how clean surfaces really are. So when they tell you to wash your hands, and use sanitizer frequently in public places, this is exactly why."

"Right now, part of me honestly wishes I could be with the immunologists, because I'm intrigued by this virus that looks like a ball with those red triangles projecting off its surface. It is amazing to see how rapidly this virus actually replicates and spreads.

The scientist in me wonders if certain things could affect the virus. It could easily be a treatment we already have in production for another purpose. You remember that Viagra was invented as a heart medication!”

Reiterating the need for more outreach in the sciences, she said, “My goal is to try to engage the community in fun outreach events to show students how fun science is. I was super excited about the STEAM Festival that we were supposed to have in Heritage Park. We were going to make liquid nitrogen ice cream. Unfortunately, that festival got

canceled because of COVID-19, but you will see more of these events in the future. I definitely want to get more involved in the community. One of my dreams has always been to have a facility where I could do a nonprofit STEAM program after school!” Her voice was reassuring, and I was so glad to hear her include the arts, which adds the A into STEM for STEAM. I also have a Gifted colleague at my school who teaches a course in STREAM, adding the R for Research. She is bringing Treva into her live online sessions.

And to our readers, Treva offered that we should all take comfort in the fact that scientists in labs all over the world are looking at ways to help us through the crises in a myriad of ways.

From testing, to detecting and easing symptoms, to an actual vaccine, the emphasis is on much needed scientific research. I say, Godspeed!

Treva is a skilled speaker and is excited to share her love of science. 1.) Science talk at Microscopy and Microanalysis in 2019. 2.) At an LSU outreach event. 3.) At a Children's Museum STEM outreach event.

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The

Storyteller

THE CHAIR Karon never knew her father. She was the only child of an only child and lived with her mother and grandparents. The four lived in a comfortable environ and she received ample attention and more than just the necessities of life. Despite being fatherless, she not only survived, she thrived.

Mary, her mother, worked four hours a day at a small manufacturing plant and attended afternoon and night school at a nearby community college. She hoped someday to become a registered nurse. She was determined to be successful both as a mother and as a medical professional.

Looking back, it could be her way of atoning for a mistake.

In the summer before Karon entered grade school, her mother had received her designation as an RN and moved the two of them to New Orleans. She had graduated top of her class and Ochsner Hospital was expanding and hiring the top personnel from both medical and nursing schools. Mary could make almost twice as much money there as she could back in her hometown. The two moved with the blessing and assistance of her parents.

It was in the first grade that it occurred to Karon that her household was different from some, or maybe most. That is when she first realized there was no father in her life.

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After high school graduation, she attended LSU. She majored in accounting, married another accountant and, at some point in time, moved to Jackson, Mississippi, not far from where both she and her mother were born.

She remembers the first time she questioned her mother. “Mom, why can’t my daddy take me to school like Jennifer’s does?”

It did not come as a surprise, as Mary knew it would be a question someday asked. Even knowing that, she was not completely prepared.

“Sweetie, your dad can’t be with us, but that means I don’t have to share my attention with anyone and I can give it all to you.”

And that is what she did.

From time to time, Karon would make an inquiry into her paternal heritage and each time she would get an evasive answer. It is a women’s nature, more than a man’s, to keep inner secrets; and, at a young age, Karon realized this. She knew there was something her mom just did not want to tell. After becoming a teenager, she never asked the question again. Mary advanced rapidly at Ochsner and Karon grew up a model child, succeeding in all her endeavors.

Her mother never married, and Karon and Mary had an extremely close motherdaughter relationship. Often one or the other would catch the train and visit.

Both would make sure to press their faces closely against the window as the train passed through their old hometown. Mary especially loved it when the train would stop for passengers. It would give her an opportunity to scan the crowd on the street as if she were searching for someone; and maybe she was. ********** The old man shuffled down the street.

He had returned home after spending 55 years in a nearby city. If you asked him why he returned, he could not or would not tell you. He had no reason to come back. The last days he had lived there in his youth were painful. She, the only one he had ever loved, had left him, and the war had started. He had to join the service or be drafted. He reasoned it was more comfortable to sleep in a bunk than in a foxhole, so he chose the Navy. His commitment at the time seemed like it

would be an eternity. As his orders read, for the duration of the war plus six months.

As months, then years, passed by, the war continued. His homesickness dissipated; but his love for her still burned. Where did she go and why did she go? he asked himself.

She could have at least said goodbye and given some explanation.

When the war was over, he was discharged in Chicago. He rode the Illinois Central home. His parents’ home was only a few blocks away from the depot and he had not told them he was coming. He would walk home when the train arrived. Maybe there was another reason he wished to walk.

Her house was only one block out of the way, so he would make a detour. He had not been back in over four years. During that time, and the two months before he left, he had not heard one word from her.

Soon her house was in sight. The war had changed things. Did her family still live there? He recognized that her family had the same car they had before the war, so he knew at least they lived there. Then he saw the child’s tricycle in the driveway. It was like he was stabbed in the heart with a blade of ice. He quickly made some mental calculations. A child lives in that house. She must have a child he reasoned.

That is something he never considered.

He was confused and crushed. ********** He arrived home from the military in December. He weighed his options. One was the GI bill. He could go to college and there was time for him to enroll for the second semester. He enrolled at Mississippi

State and pursued a civil engineering degree. Later, he would graduate and be employed by the Mississippi State Highway Department. He would live most of his working life in Natchez. He never married either. It would be years before he would ever come back to his hometown.

He only had been back twice. Once, for his father’s funeral, and two months later for his mother’s.

just a little larger. He tilted it back. He remembered the day he took a wood burning set and lettered “His” on the bottom. He had lettered “Hers” on the smaller chair.

Now retired, he had decided to come back home. He was 75 years old. At least he had some siblings there and a few cousins.

There would be someone he could keep an eye on and they on him. The town was no longer the same as it had been in his youth. When he left, all the shopping he needed to do was contained in about a fourblock downtown area. Now there was an Interstate Highway; which, coincidentally, he helped build. Its construction came at a price. The town had moved toward it.

Shopping for someone his age was no longer in walking distance and convenient.

The Piggly Wigley and the Sunflower Grocery no longer existed.

“A client dropped it by a few weeks ago.”

He rented a room in an old hotel that was in poor repair, but 55 years ago it had been the crown jewel of the community. He was a conservative spender, so he liked it being inexpensive.

Each day, on foot, he would extend the distance he explored from his room.

One day, he had ventured a few blocks farther than usual; and, there it was, in a consignment shop window.

He was sure. But, to make sure, he hurried back to his room. His chair was identical,

He hurried back to the consignment store and asked the shop owner if could he see the chair. She agreed. Then, he turned it upside down. Yes, it was there. “Hers.”

“Where did this come from?” he asked.

“Who was it?”

“I can’t tell you sir, that information is confidential.”

“Can you tell me how old she was?”

“Well, you are correct, it was a female. I shouldn’t tell you, but she was about 55.”

“Are you sure she was not older?”

“Yes Sir, I am pretty sure.”

The shop owner could tell he did not like her answer.

“I’ll tell you what sir. I will contact her and give her your name and number. If she is interested, she will call you. Do you have a phone?”

“Yes, I have a phone. How much is the chair?”

“She wants $300 but she may take less.”

“Do you deliver?”

“Yes sir, but that will be an extra $25 if it is here in town.”

“Yes, just over at the Inez Hotel, so the total is $325?”

“No sir, there will be sales tax, so it will be $346.”

PROUD SPONSOR OF THE STORYTELLER 15

“Do you take a credit card?”

“Yes sir, but we have to charge you an extra 5 percent.”

“Mr. Higgins, I would like to talk to you.

Can I come and see you Saturday? Will you meet with me? I am her daughter.”

He angrily replied, “Ok, how much now?

I don’t care how much it costs. I want that chair.”

“Yes, let’s meet on the bench in front of the bakery. Say 10 am?”

“Yes, I will be there.”

“That would be $363.30.”

**********

As he handed her his Visa, he remembered the day he and Mary had bought them.

She paid ten dollars for his and he paid the same for hers. She and her mother had put new upholstery on them. It was one of the happiest days of his life. However, on this day, knowing she was probably no longer living, this was one of the saddest.

It was Thursday. There was some reluctance and dread beginning to set in. For 57 years, he had nursed the emotional pain but had learned to manage it. It was still there but not all consuming. In his saddest moments he could imagine that someday she would appear and come back to him. That was not her make up however, and he knew that. She is the one that left. Walked away from a five-year relationship without so much as a goodbye. He, too, was a stoic type. Since that day in early May of 1942, he had never inquired as to where she was; nor, as far as he knew, had she tried to contact him. Did he really want to awaken the painful giant inside him, the emotional tragedy that had followed him daily for 57 years? He had doubts. Now, with her being deceased, was this meeting with her daughter a blessing or a curse?

********** Later that afternoon, the shop owner’s teenage son delivered the chair. The young man surveyed the old man’s belongings. There were two chairs, the one he was bringing made three. There was an aluminum lawn chair with a TV tray beside it. This appeared to be the old man’s favorite place. On the tray was a package of chewing tobacco and the TV remote. On one side of the room was a chest with four drawers; and on the other side, a large screen TV with a VCR attached.

The other chair looked identical to the one he was delivering, except it was larger.

Both had the same upholstery, and both looked like they had seldom been used. ********** Three days later, his phone rang. “Mr. Higgins? I am Karon Moore. I understand you bought my chair and asked to contact me. May I ask why you are so interested in me and my chair?”

Again, the words “my chair” rang deeply in his mental interpretation. Why was it her chair? How did she get it? Why is it not Mary’s chair?

Chocking back his resentment, he said, “I have a chair just like it only larger. I had a friend, Mary, that had one also.”

Karon’s demeanor and tone changed from lack of interest to one of a more intent quizzical mode. “Did that Mary happen to be Mary Martin?”

“Yes, that's her."

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********** The small grey BMW convertible maneuvered into the vertical parking spot between the corner men’s store and the bakery.

It was a cool, comfortable day; and, in the south, there are only a few days that it’s cool enough to let the top down on a convertible. It was down that day.

Before she even opened the door, he could see her well. Yes, she was Mary’s daughter. He would have recognized her if he had passed her on the street. He was the only person on the bench that morning so recognizing him was obvious. He stood and waited for her to extend her hand.

Southern ladies always extend their hand first. Her mother would have done that.

After a few cordial pleasantries, she said, “Mr. Higgins, I am curious as to your interest in the chair. You see, when my mother decided to downsize, we sold a lot of her things. She had a rather large shotgun style home in New Orleans, but in her new apartment things would not fit.

The chair that you purchased was the last

thing she parted with. My husband carried it to his pickup to bring it to the store, but she stopped him. She asked him to place the chair on the ground beside the truck and then she sat in it.

"She seemed to drift into a dream world, then asked that we leave and let her be alone for a few minutes. She said she needed some private time. About a half hour later, she came inside. We could see that she had been crying. She said, 'Take the chair.'

"It was obvious the chair was important to her, but it was never mentioned again.

Apparently, there is a story. Can you shed some light on it, Sir?” It seemed to him the few years they spent together back then was an eternity. That was from the 7th grade until just before graduation in the 12th grade. Many things were very private. He did not know what he should tell her daughter that he had just met. He certainly would not tell her about the first and only time during their long courtship that they were intimate.

That was only a few weeks before she left. He always wondered if their sin had caused her to leave. Was God punishing him? But why would he punish her? At church, he had heard God punished people for that. But why would God punish you for loving someone? He had loved her and, at the time, he was certain she loved him.

“Your mom and I dated from the seventh grade until a week before graduation.

Everyone knew, and we had our parent’s blessings, that we would marry in the summer after graduation. Starting three years prior, on each gift giving occasion, we would give each other something that would contribute to us establishing our household. We knew things would be tough and finances would be limited. One year, I gave her a plate, knife, fork and spoon.

She gave me the same. I still have that.

On one occasion, she gave me a coffee pot and I gave her a toaster.

You see, we had it all planned out. I would go to college, she would work. She would go to nursing school while I worked.

She would work until I got my masters or maybe my PhD. Then we would have children. We would be almost 30. But it

didn’t happen that way.”

would appeal to her.

“What happened Mr. Higgins?”

He then went across the street to the barber shop. He had seen the ad. Grecian formula.

Did they have Grecian formula. Would it really remove the grey?

“I don’t know. Did she ever mention me?”

“My mother was a very private person.

I don’t even know my father’s name. I know he was killed at Midway in 42. We both used her maiden name. Mother had secrets she never shared.”

“Yes, I am sure she did.”

After a few minutes of conversation, he had enough courage to ask the hard question.

“Tell me about her and when did she pass away?”

“Oh, Mr. Higgins, Mom has not passed away. She is very much alive.”

If you had observed his demeanor when he heard those words you would have realized his life had changed forever. He bounded from the bench as if he were in his thirties and did not hesitate to ask, “Where is she?”

“She is in New Orleans. But she will be moving here in about a month. They are remodeling her apartment. She just wants to come back to her roots. There is a culture shock between New Orleans and this community. She always missed it, but never had the courage to come back. Once she told me something I did not understand about this town. She said there are memories that are too tender to be brought to the surface on a regular basis.

'It’s best I stay away', she said.

"Somehow, last year she changed her mind.”

“Where is her apartment?”

“Oh, she is combining four rooms at the Inez. The carpenters are making it a beautiful place. Just not big enough for the parlor grandee, the buffet or the chair."

He was speechless. Then, almost inaudibly, he said, “I live in the Inez.” ********** For the first time in years, he went to the men’s store on the corner and bought clothes other than khakis. He let the young proprietor advise him on what he should purchase. In his mind, what the young man picked out did not really appeal to him, but after all, he was buying for what

He knew where she would live. It was the only apartment with construction activity.

He visited it several times each day. His anticipation and excitement grew each day as it neared completion. Had Karon told her about him? Surely she had.

The apartment was complete. She would arrive at any hour he assumed. He took the elevator to her floor at least a dozen times a day. Days passed and she did not arrive. Then one day a moving van came and begin to unload furniture into her unit. Surely, she would be there soon; but the van was unloaded, the furniture just stacked in the apartment and left.

Two days later, Karon’s BMW parked in front of the hotel. There was still no sign of Mary. In the entry he stood, and she smiled as she saw the transformation that had occurred in him over the last month.

“Look at you Mr. Higgins. You got some snazzy duds on there. Lookin good, Sir.” Almost rudely, he dismissed her compliment and answered with a question, “Where is Mary?”

“I just got a cell call from her. She will be here in thirty minutes. Can you help me take this to her apartment?”

“Surely,” he said, as she handed him two bags of previously refrigerated groceries.

Karon was surprised to find the door unlocked, but more surprised at the large bouquet of flowers on a table with the other furniture in disarray.

“Where did those come from?” she asked.

“I bought them. It was a few days back and they are not as fresh as I had wished.

I thought she may expect something since it has been so long.”

“Mr. Higgins, she wouldn’t expect anything.

I haven’t told her about you. I thought the surprise would be better. She will love the flowers and you remembered her favorite.

Chrysanthemums.” **********

For years, he had suffered from a nervous stomach and the excitement of the day had intensified the symptoms. He would run back to his apartment and take some Pepto Bismol. Then, he would come back and wait.

Before he returned, Mary arrived and made her way to the apartment. Giving Karon a hug, her eyes locked onto the flowers.

“Who...” before she could continue, Karon interrupted.

“Stop right there, Mom. Turn around.”

He stood in the doorway.

Its was the most awkward moment of either of their lives. He walked toward her but paused just in front, waiting for her to extend her hand. She didn’t. Another awkward pause and then she threw her arms around him and they both sobbed uncontrollably.

As she regained her composure, she said, “Tim, my precious Tim. How many times have I dreamed of this moment.”

Karon left the room, but in a few minutes she returned.

The three spent the afternoon arranging furniture. By late afternoon, most of Mary’s pared down belongings were in place. It was obvious Karon kept moving some furniture to make space for something.

“Mr. Higgins, it's time.”

He returned to his apartment and, in a few minutes, returned with the “Her” chair.

There were more tears.

“Well folks, it’s getting late and I have to get to Jackson. I have an audit in the morning. We got a lot accomplished and Mr. Higgins, you were a Godsend. I will leave the rest of the day up to y’all. Be good now.” ********** That night, they went to dinner. The conversation was just as it had been when they were in high school. Both realized there were places they could not go. He never asked about Karon’s father. He never asked about why she left. After all, it was not important. She was back.

For the next few years, they spent almost every waking minute with each other. Soon 17

he moved his chair into her apartment, and they would sit facing each other. She taught him the secret of making Sazaracs, a drink she had developed a taste for in New Orleans. In May, he made her Mint Julips to remind her the south consisted of more than just New Orleans.

They made a trip or two to the Big Easy, listened to music on Frenchmen Street, played tourist riding the street cars and the President. They spent some fall days at Lake Lincoln and even went to a few hometown football games. The games were still in the same stadium where she led cheers as he sparingly played football.

The stadium, the crowd, even the game had changed; but they accepted change because they had changed, too.

He spent most nights at her apartment and, for breakfast, she would serve him in the dishes they had bought long ago.

They were happy. All was forgiven. Karon would visit and became very fond of her mother’s new old friend. He was no longer Mister Higgins, he was Mr. Tim. They were older now and, on the occasions when they were under the weather, each would stay at their own place. His stomach disorder had continued to progress and was passed off by the physicians as IBS. On this day, it had been especially bad.

He would spend the night at his place.

The next morning, she set the table for two and waited for him to arrive before she started the bacon and eggs. They were both early risers and when he did not come down by 8am, she called his cell.

No answer. She went to his apartment, inserted the key, and felt resistance as she opened the door. She pushed hard and then she saw a foot lying near the opening. She called maintenance.

It appeared he had passed several hours prior. The key to her apartment was clutched in his hand. ********** In his will he left most everything to her.

At some point in time, while young, they had given each other a Sterling Silver hairbrush set. After his passing, she kept it, both his and hers, on her dresser. She also kept both chairs.

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********** Karon noticed that her mother’s health began to decline. She was not as jovial when they visited. It was as if, after Tim’s passing, she had failed to thrive. After all, her life had come full circle. She no longer enjoyed traveling to Jackson or New Orleans and, as time passed, she seldom left her room. Karon visited often.

One afternoon, as Karon started to leave, her mother asked her to stay for a while longer. She asked her to sit in “His” chair and she sat in “Hers.” They faced each other.

“Sweetheart, I thank you for accepting me as your mother and the decisions I made not to tell you the full story of my past or of your father. It is a sad story and one that I am ashamed of. You are my blessing and, of course, I am not ashamed of you.

"You see, Tim and I dated through high school. It was a foregone conclusion that we would marry, and I had all the intentions of doing so.

"Things were different then. Honestly, I am not sure that we were any more moral then than now. We were just self-righteous, or pretended we were. Pre-marital sex was rampant, but you denied it. It is kind of hard to talk to you about this, but about two months before we were to get married and just after graduation, we had our very first and only totally intimate encounter, if you know what I mean.

"We had waited so long, and we regretted it. But it was done.

"About a week after that, mother asked me if I would go to Hattiesburg and help care for her sister who was extremely ill. I loved Aunt Jane and just spending Friday and Saturday night with her was not a problem. I knew I would miss Tim though.

"The very day I arrived in Hattiesburg, a car pulled into the next driveway. The most handsome man I have ever seen, dressed in a Marine officers uniform, stepped from the back car door only feet away from where I was unloading my things.

"Karon, I had a feeling like I had never had before or since. My heart sank and I got chill bumps just looking at him. Then he dropped his duffel bag and ran to assist

me. His hand just barely touched mine. It gave me chills. Looking back, you would call it infatuation, but now I know it was a mistake.

"Within minutes, he asked me to go have a soda later that evening. I meant to say no, but the words were uncontrollable.

My mouth said yes.

"The next night, we went to a movie.

Sunday evening I went home feeling so guilty, but I could not tell Tim what had happened, although I know I should have.

"The next weekend, back in Hattiesburg, that Friday night he asked me to go to a drive-in movie. I will never forget, we saw Casablanca. That is when he kissed me. It was a thrill like none other I have ever had. The only person I had ever kissed was Tim. "The next night, we went for a ride in the country. He took me to his grandparents’ home, a beautiful place on Black Creek.

They were deceased, but the family kept the place as a weekend retreat.

"We sat in the swing on the front porch as the sun set and then it began to lightly rain.

He told me about his military obligation.

He was a Marine Lieutenant, a fighter pilot.

He told me that he was being shipped to the Pacific in two days.

"He was a big tough Marine, but he was sad. He said he had a premonition he would not return. Then he kissed me, more passionately this time than ever before. He kept emphasizing that he would not come back alive and that God had sent me to him as a present for giving his life for his country. I made a mistake, a bad mistake.

You are the product of that mistake, but remember you are my blessing. As it turned out, I would learn later, he was shot down on June 7, 1942, on his very first mission.

"I could not face Tim. I felt so guilty. I chose to run away. I ran away from Tim, the Marine that was dead, and I never even gave Tim a reason why I left. It was very unfair. But then, I realized something was wrong. I was pregnant. Then I was glad I had not told either of them.

"I found out that Tim was leaving for the Navy two days after graduation. Knowing

his personality, I knew he would not chase me. He respected and loved me too much.

Oh, how miserable I was. Before Tim died, he told me that it had never crossed his mind that there was another man, until he saw the tricycle.

She was told she should come as soon as possible. Her mother had suffered a stroke and the outcome did not look good. She left immediately.

carefully. With a comb, she removed all the hair from the bristles. It cost $1,000 but she had to know. She sent it off along with the hair from her own brush.

"That’s enough for one night, but you know most of the story. You really know more than I had planned to tell you. Maybe next week we will talk more.”

When she arrived, she was directed to the chapel. She needed no explanation. **********

Six months later, the letter came. She nervously tore into it. She carefully scanned the disclaimers before getting to the results. Her eyes focused.

***********

After the funeral and over the next several weeks, Karon closed out her mother’s apartment. She sold many items, gave some away, kept a few, such as the chairs, and packed some of her personal items. One item was the silver brush set. First, she put the set in a box. Then she picked up his.

She says now that she knew something was special about his brush. It is as if it generated heat in her hand. She saw his silver hair, pre- and post-Grecian formula, in the bristles. Well, it was worth keeping.

He was the nearest thing to a father she had ever had.

When the phone rings at two in the morning it is never a good thing. Karen’s phone rang and the ID said King Daughter’s Hospital.

One night she awoke from the most realistic dream she had ever had, one of those detailed dreams. At sunup, she examined his brush

The conversation haunted Karon. There were so many questions. Her mother had not, or would not, reveal her father’s name. Tim loved her so much, certainly he would have forgiven her; he may have even thought that he was Karon's father and they could have all been a normal family. But, no, she reasoned, because her mother loved him so much, she had rather leave than tell him or deceive him.

Based on our extensive examination, with the DNA technology present today, the genetic makeup shows that this is a father and daughter match. The odds are so positive that the unlikely probability is not calculated.

Now she knew. Her dad’s name was Tim Higgins.

Two days later, she traveled to the mortuary.

She had a marble tag made to be attached to his gravestone. It read, MY DAD.

John S. Case August 2020

Slidell: Our History

Story by Ted Lewis

This month marks the 100th anniversary of ratification of the 19th Amendment, which finally granted American women full suffrage on August 26,1920.

As the state which was the 36th to ratify, putting the amendment over the top, Tennessee will be the focus of what is now celebrated as National Equality Day. But the centennial celebration and commemoration might just as well have been in Louisiana.

As former Saints coach Jim Mora famously said, “Coulda, woulda, shoulda.”

Coulda – Two months before Tennessee acted, the Louisiana legislature had the opportunity to be No. 36.

Woulda – Passage was definitely possible, but the ugly stain of racism prevented it.

Shoulda – It was obviously the easy - and right - thing to do, at least to our modern sensibilities.

Yet, as hard as it is to believe, the 19th Amendment giving women the right to

20

vote was not fully adopted by the Louisiana legislature UNTIL 1970. Yes, you read that correctly.

Unlike our collective memory of the Civil Rights Movement as a courageous, righteous crusade (one that events of this year have shown is not complete) through the lens of a century ago, women finally gaining the vote is seen as just a milestone, albeit a major one, along a reasoned, somewhat benign march towards inevitable social equality.

The general impression is that the suffragists were treated with tolerance, even bemusement; until they finally wore their menfolk down.

It wasn’t that simple.

The service of women during World War I was the clinching catalyst of a movement which began decades before.

Still, in more than 20 other countries, including even postwar Germany and the new Soviet Union, women held the right to vote before they fully did in the U.S.

Support for suffrage was part of the platforms of both the Democrat and Republican parties in the 1920 presidential election. Clearly this was an idea whose time had come.

As one leader of the time so presciently put it, "I’d like to know what in the world is wrong with American women that they can’t be trusted with the vote?”

And, as said earlier, the campaign was even treated as comedy fodder.

When a nationwide rail tour of suffragist leaders came to New Orleans in February, 1919, the Times-Picayune warned, “All good men and true, get under the covers Saturday and stay there for the suffs’ll get you if you don’t watch out.”

And when start of the rally was delayed, the next day’s story began, “It’s a woman’s privilege to be late. Saturday proved to be no exception to the world-old rule” under the headline about how the visiting ladies “had a lovely time.” And this was from a pro-suffrage newspaper!

The opposition to the women's suffrage movement was widespread. Left: This anti-suffrage postcard, mocking the suffragists, was typical of the times. Middle: The anti-suffrage national headquarters. Right: One of the Iron Jawed Angels, Lucy Burns of the Congressional Union for Woman Suffrage, while in jail.

But often, the tone was much different.

In 1917, dozens of suffragettes, including three from Louisiana, were imprisoned for silently demonstrating outside the White House. Some were beaten and force-fed, giving them the name “Iron-Jawed Angels” for the device used to do so, along with their will to resist. Veterans of the experience who participated in the 1919 rail tour wore their jail garb during rallies and called themselves “Prisonettes.”

Additionally, in the South, fears that ratification of the 19th amendment would mean armed enforcement of the 15th amendment, which gave African-American men the right to vote, led to ugly racist rhetoric.

Wrote Anne Pleasant, wife of former Louisiana governor Ruffin Pleasant and a leader in the “anti” movement, “The passage of the Nineteenth Amendment would embolden the negro (sic) man and negro woman to give us even greater trouble than they are doing now,” while reminding white citizens about the “diabolical 15th Amendment which the north (sic) rammed down the throat of the South while she lay bleeding and prostrate after the Civil War.” Suffragist leader Susan B. Anthony was lambasted for defaming the legacy of Robert E. Lee because of her writing about his supposed estrangement with his daughter, Anne, due to her Unionist sympathies.

Others wrapped opposition into professing the desire to protect women from the evils of politics along with warnings that it would

disrupt the tranquility, not to mention the balance of power, in many homes.

However, that could be turned on its head.

“It is the duty of the women of the South to call upon their men folk for approval of the federal amendment,” said one speaker during the 1919 tour.

Added suffragist leader Willie Grace Johnson of Shreveport, one of those jailed for picketing the White House, “I never saw anything before that Southern women wanted that Southern men did not get for them.”

But it also reflected attitudes that suffrage was a “Yankee” cause, one that made gaining traction in the South difficult.

Still, after Congress passed the 19th Amendment in 1919 (Louisiana’s senators split on the matter) and sent it on to the states where it was ratified throughout the East, Midwest and West (Vermont and Connecticut were notable Yankee holdouts), of the ones which were part of the Confederacy, only Texas and Arkansas gave their stamp of approval. Both had adopted full state suffrage beforehand.

Louisiana was viewed as a solid possibility for ratification.

While there were several factions along the suffrage spectrum, in 1919 the Louisiana Federation of Women’s Clubs, representing 35 various groups, passed a resolution supporting ratification by Congress while condemning militant methods of persuasion.

Moreover, some cities in the state, including New Orleans, did permit women to vote in property tax and bond elections as long as they were tax payers themselves.

In 1920, Louisiana even had a female mayor.

Lula M. Coleman of Jena, a LaSalle Parish deputy sheriff, was appointed by Gov. John Parker that year.

Thus the stage was set. The Amendment passage required a 2/3 vote of the states.

The count was at 35 (out of 48). Louisiana was up next. As the legislature convened in early June, hopes were high for approval of both the federal version and the modified state versions (which would have continued suppression of the black vote).

However, passing the state version, suffragist leader Lydia Wyckliffe Holmes said, ‘Should assure an absolute victory for federal suffrage in this state.”

Except it didn’t happen.

Those in favor of the amendment were outnumbered by those who brought up the race issue and how federal authority could impose itself over states’ rights.

The arguments were sharp on both sides, and non-legislators were allowed to address the body before a packed house chamber. The Times-Picayune reported that the yellow flowers worn by the suffragists, along with the various colored party gowns worn by the proponents, “lent an impressive touch to the entire affair.”

But the rhetoric was less pleasant.

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Left: Sisters Kate & Jean Gordon fought for the right to vote for women, but their efforts were narrowed by their white supremacist viewpoint. As a result, they advocated a states' rights approach and fought against a federal amendment, fearing it would allow black women to vote. (THNOC, gift of Alexander Milne Home School for Girls) Middle: A 1920 editorial drawing in the St. Tammany Farmer shows a suffragist waiting for her hands to be freed by the sword of Tennessee. Right: Louisiana's Lionhearted Ladies

Said anti leader Charlotte Rowe of Washington, “Ratification would make the Federal Constitution a scrap of paper.”

Countered Louisiana Equal Rights Party president Florence Huberwald, “The terrors of federalization were not raised when the prohibition amendment (ratified in 1919) was passed, though it violated every principal of individual liberty.”

Of course, there were those who were opposed to suffrage in general, including businesses like the state’s sugar producers, who were wary of women being paid on the same level as men. Liquor interests also worked against suffrage because women were leaders in the temperance movement.

In the end, the state amendment passed in the house but failed in the senate. The federal version lost in both chambers.

Rep. LeVerrier Cooley of Slidell voted against both versions.

After the vote, Congressman J.Y. Sanders, whose district included St. Tammany Parish, told the legislature for its failure to ratify when it was just one state short of the 2/3 necessary for adoption, “Federal suffrage is here. You can’t stop it. You can’t prevent it.”

Apparently not believing Sanders, the Pleasants would journey to Nashville to lend their support when the Tennessee legislature took up the issue a few weeks later. Anne Pleasant’s attempted interference backfired 22

and played a big part in the decisive vote in favor, however.

After ratification, Kate Gordon of New Orleans, a leading supporter of statesanctioned suffrage but an anti-federalist, said, “Tennessee has disgraced the South.

I can only say I am glad it is not Louisiana which has brought this ignominy upon us.

I am in the position of a woman who has worked for suffrage all her life, and now that it has come about, I do not want it.”

She wasn’t alone.

Ratification in Tennessee meant that, for the first time, women in every state could vote in the presidential election. But only about 1/3 of the eligible female voters did so for a variety of reasons.

In Louisiana, already a traditionally low turnout state, the total turnout in 1920 was about 125,000 compared to 86,000 in 1916, reflecting the national proportion of women participating.

In St. Tammany Parish, which had voted for state-level suffrage in a 1916 referendum that narrowly failed statewide, 585 women cast ballots for the first time.

It wouldn’t be until 1960 when the level of women voting nationally reached that of men.

In 1936, Louisiana finally elected a woman to the legislature, Doris Lindsay Holland of

St. Helena Parish, who won a special election to the state senate after being appointed to the seat occupied by her husband until his death earlier that year. In 1940, she won a house seat and served two terms.

And, although Louisiana suffrage proponents declared that the ratification fight was far from over, it wasn’t until 50 years later, in 1970, that the legislature finally got around to doing so.

Here's a disturbing tid-bit: Louisiana still has NOT ratified the Equal Rights Amendment, although we have had a female governor and senators and an ever-increasing number of local women officeholders.

Want to know more about the quest for suffrage in Louisiana?

Visit the Old State Capitol Museum in Baton Rouge, where its exhibit “Louisiana’s Lionhearted Ladies: Championing the Right to Vote” is featured in the main hall.

Banners, photos, newspaper clippings and other artifacts from the age are featured.

Admission to the museum is free and is open Tuesdays-Fridays, 10am - 4pm and Saturdays 9am - 3pm.

For those who can’t get to Baton Rouge, a video tour of the exhibit, led by museum curator Lauren Davis, is available on both the museum website, louisianaoldcapitol.org or YouTube.

August Heat Exposure L&L Article 071620 Slidell Mag.pdf

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7/16/20

7:15 PM

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MAKING

By Mike Rich, CFP®

CENTS

Pontchartrain Investment Management

BOB AND LISA DON’T WANT TO RUIN THEIR RETIREMENT.

My new clients – let’s call them Bob and Lisa – are like many of my young clients. Even though retirement is a long way off, the thought of kicking back and enjoying the fruits of their years of labor is high on their list of dreams. During our initial meetings together, we have talked about how easy it is to ruin one’s retirement, and that lots and lots of people are dead-set on turning the dream into a nightmare. Bob and Lisa are determined to not do that, and so they asked me to help them along the way. Here are the things we are going to try to avoid: Number one, the folks who want to ruin their retirements are financially disorganized. All the pieces and parts

2065 1st Street, Slidell, LA mypontchartrain.com | 985-605-5066 Securities & advisory services offered through LPL Financial, a registered investment advisor, member FINRA/SIPC.

of their financial lives – investments, insurance, loans, retirement and bank accounts, you name it – are scattered about and being handled by different people. No one is in charge, and the parts aren’t working together efficiently, if at all.

For example, everything in Bob and Lisa’s life that has a dollar sign in front of it – car insurance, 401(k), mortgage, their paychecks – falls into one of four categories: Protection, Assets, Liabilities, and Cash Flow. I call them their four financial domains. When I began work with them, I started by organizing their financial information so I know where everything is.

Next, I’ll make sure that the domains are in balance

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so they’re working together efficiently.

For example, many people don’t understand how their car insurance can affect their ability to grow money in a retirement plan. My job is to explain these things and help Bob and Lisa fix them if they’re not right.

Secondly, a lot of people woefully underestimate the true cost of living.

They might take into account things like inflation and taxes, but they hardly ever think about planned obsolescence, upgraded lifestyles, new technology, unexpected events, and all the other money drains in life that can affect them.

For example, Bob and Lisa are many, many years away from the possibility of needing long term care. However, as a married couple, there is a very good chance that at least one of them will live to be 90 or more, and might need long term care. As a retirement cost of living, it’s a potential biggie

that could destroy their plans in no time. I want to make sure we have a strategy for dealing with it, long before Bob and Lisa have the need.

Finally, many people planning for retirement continue to adhere to the myriad myths that the “financial entertainers” on TV, the Internet, and in the check-out line tabloids foist on the American public. Things like “just max out your 401(k) and you’ll be fine”, “buy term insurance and invest the difference ”, “rate of return is more important than rate of saving”, and other myths. The old cliché says that what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

While I’m not too sure of that, I do know that what you think you know is true – but really isn’t – can definitely hurt you financially. So, I’m going to show Bob and Lisa that many of the so-called “financial truisms” might not work in real life.

Ta k e n t o g e t h e r, t h e s e t h r e e steps – financial disorganization, underestimating the true cost of living, and believing in financial myths – are likely to ruin retirement for a lot of people. However, Bob and Lisa don’t want to be those people. In my next few articles, I’ll share with you their journey to financial well-being. Some of the work we do together might even inspire you to work on your financial plan with me, as well. Join us next month.

Mike Rich, CFP® Pontchartrain Investment Management 985-605-5064 michael.rich@lpl.com Securities and Advisory Services offered through LPL Financial, a Registered Investment Advisor, Member FINRA/SIPC The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual.

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ns "Cont a e l r O w e N f o b Donna Bush, Winner - 2019 Press Clu

inuing Coverage"

116th Anniversary of Flight Story & Photos by Donna Bush

“The desire to fly is an idea handed down to us by our ancestors who…looked enviously on the birds soaring freely through space… on the infinite highway of the air.” ~ Wilbur Wright Back in March, I shared with you the story of two local pilots who flew to Kill Devil Hills on the Outer Banks of North Carolina where Orville and Wilbur Wright made history and changed the world forever.

Orville and Wilbur grew up in Dayton, Ohio with their seven siblings. Their mechanically minded mother died at a young age, but not before inspiring the boys with a strong work ethic. They grew up encouraged to always be inquisitive, questioning how and why things worked or didn’t work.

Their sister, Katherine, was one of their biggest supporters.

Although their father, a bishop, traveled extensively, he had a huge resourceful library that the boys read enthusiastically.

Even while still in high school, Orville’s creative nature was developing. After working two high school summers as an apprentice at a print shop, he opened his own print shop in a carriage shed behind their home. He designed and built his own printing press using a discarded tombstone, buggy spring and some scrap metal.

Bicycling had grown in popularity since it was introduced in America in the 1860’s. Like many around the country, the brothers embraced this mode of transportation and recreation. In the spring of 1893, the brothers opened Wright Cycle Exchange, repairing and selling bicycles. After their third year in business, they moved to a larger location and began designing and building their own. Their model, the 26

Van Cleve, named after their great-great-grandmother, became highly successful, netting the young brothers $2000 to $3000 per year. Their Van Cleve design quickly became the symbol of excellence in bicycle construction.

At age 25, Orville contracted typhoid fever. Near death for days, Wilbur would read to him about Otto Lilienthal’s experimentation with glider flight. The German mining engineer was joined in his aviation attempts by a younger brother, giving them and the Wright boys something in common. His glider was made of fan-shaped wings covered with muslin material and a vertical rudder shaped like a palm leaf. He would hang by his arms under the wings. Wilbur learned that his flight attempts took place on a range of barren hills, where he would run down the slope into the wind and sway his body and legs from side to side as a means of steerage.

His fame made it to the United States. News of his death from a broken spine following a crash re-awakened Wilbur’s childhood interests in flight. He became even more obsessed and his studies of birds in flight became intense. He dug into one of his father’s books, Animal Mechanism, written 30 years earlier by French physician Etienne-Jules Marey, which led him to J. Bell Pettigrew’s book, Animal Locomotion; or Walking, Swimming or Flying, with a Dissertation on Aeronautics, which stressed “the way of an eagle in the air must remain a mystery until the structure and use of wings is understood.” Recovered, Orville began reading the same books.

With the bicycle business booming, they moved to a larger location, allowing them to have a machine shop providing a space for a metal lathe, drill press, and a band saw, all powered by a gasoline engine.

Left: Orville & Wilbur Wright. Center: The Wright Cycle Shop in Dayton, Ohio. Right: Advertisement for Wright Cycle Co, circa 1898

Toward the end of May 1899, Wilbur penned a historic letter to the Smithsonian Institute in Washington: “I have been interested in the problem of mechanical and human flight ever since a boy … My observations since have only convinced me more firmly that human flight is possible and practicable.

I am about to begin a systematic study of the subject in preparation for practical work to which I expect to devote what time I can spare from my regular business. I wish to obtain such papers as the Smithsonian Institution has published on this subject, and if possible, a list of other works in print in the English language.” To prevent doubt of his seriousness, he added, “I am an enthusiast, but not a crank in the sense that I have some pet theories as to the proper construction of a flying machine.”

The information Wilbur received included details from Octave Chanute, a French born American civil engineer, builder of bridges and railroads, who specialized in gliders; and Samuel Pierpoint Langley, an astronomer and third Secretary of The Smithsonian. Langley, formerly the Otto Lilienthal and his glider

director of the Allegheny Observatory in Pittsburgh, and a professor of physics and astronomy at Western University of Pennsylvania, was one of the most respected scientists of the time.

Numerous prominent engineers, scientists, and inventors of the 19th century, including Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison, Sir George Cayley, Sir Hiram Maxim and others, had been working on the problem of controlled flight with no success.

This did not discourage Orville and Wilbur. Nor did the fact that neither had attended college or received technical training. Not even the very realistic fact that they could die, like Lilienthal, dissuaded them.

At this time in history, many technical inventions came about: George Eastman with the “Kodak” box camera, Isaac Merritt Singer with the first electric sewing machine, the Otis Company’s installation of the first elevator in a New York building, and the first motor cars built in America.

The brothers transformed their idle curiosity into the design and construction of their own glider, modeled off their extensive research and observations of birds in flight. They learned the language of aeronautics: equilibrium, or balance, in flight was just as critical as in staying upright on a bicycle. They knew the problem was not to get in the air, but to stay there.

With successful flights of their first kite in 1899, they had enough confidence to begin construction of a man-carrying glider. Knowing that wind would be essential to their success, Wilbur inquired of the U.S. Weather Bureau about the prevailing winds around the country. Of the information obtained, Kitty Hawk on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, approximately 700 miles from home, captured their interest.

In August of 1900, they disassembled and packed up their full-size glider for shipment to Kitty Hawk, along with tools, tent and supplies, including a camera. Wilbur would go first to get established. The trip would entail a train ride from Dayton to Elizabeth City, NC then a 40-mile harrowing boat ride to Kitty Hawk.

In 1900, few people lived along the Outer Banks and Kitty Hawk other than fisherman, survivors of shipwrecks or those who manned the Life Saving Stations, which rescued distressed sailors. Wilbur was able to board with a local family while he established camp.

Orville arrived about two weeks later and they were ready for their first flight attempts. In the early flights, Wilbur would always be the pilot to protect his younger brother from any harm.

As their efforts progressed, and with the help of locals, they dragged the glider four miles to Kill Devil Hills where they could launch off the high sand dunes.

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The Wright "Kite" 1899

After numerous successful flights with distances of 300-400 feet and landing speeds of 30mph, they knew they were ready to advance.

Returning home, they began work on a new and improved glider. They quickly learned that many of “the experts” were wrong. They set out to determine their own calculations, building a small gasoline-powered wind tunnel and designing the best wing shape.

With this done, they charged on to connecting the control of the rudder with the wing-warping and simplifying the pilot’s job.

With these successes, they decided it was time to work on powered flight.

Unable to find a light and powerful enough engine, they had no choice but to build their own. By this time, Charlie Taylor was a mechanic at their bicycle shop and he readily joined the flight team.

In six short weeks, the three of them had a four-cylinder motor, with 4-inch bore and 4-inch stroke, weighing only 152 pounds and delivering 12 horsepower.

Their original specifications called for a motor weighing less than 200-pounds capable of moving 675 pounds - the combined weight of the flying machine and pilot. The propeller offered a bit of a challenge, but nothing the boys couldn’t accomplish.

Soon they were back at Kitty Hawk in December of 1903 with dismal weather, some successes and some minor setbacks. On December 17th, in bitter cold weather with 20-27mph winds, they made their way to the sand dunes. By this time, Wilbur and Orville 28

The Wright Glider 1902

took turns flying. This flight would be Orville’s. With their camera positioned on its tripod about 30 feet from the end of the starting rail, Wilbur tasked one of the onlookers, John T. Daniels, with squeezing the bulb.

Minutes passed as they waited for the engine to warm up. It wasn’t like any of them had any experience with this! Precisely at 10:35, Orville slipped off the restraint holding the Flyer in place. It slowly moved forward, due to the intense headwind. Wilbur jogged alongside, easily keeping up, with his hand on the wingtip. Reaching the end of the track, the Flyer lifted into the air and Daniels squeezed the rubber bulb, taking the now-famous, iconic image of first flight!

On a cold winter’s day at Kill Devil Hills on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, two young brothers from Dayton, Ohio changed the world forever, making history and proving that man could fly!

With their success, the brothers didn’t stop there. They went on to building bigger and better planes, maintaining flight until they exhausted their fuel capacity. They progressed to talks with the U.S. Army to build planes for them. Wilbur wowed the crowds at Le Mans, France while Orville did the same in Virginia.

Each year, on December 17th, the First Flight Society commemorates that historic and successful flight of the brothers with a celebration of flight and an induction of an individual or group that achieved significant “firsts” in aviation into the Paul E. Garber First Flight Shrine. The Shrine is named for

the first director of the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum.

On December 17, 2019, Colonel Gail S. “Hal” Halvorsen was inducted into the Shrine during the 116th Anniversary of First Flight. Hal was an American C54 pilot who dropped candy to German children during the Berlin Airlift, earning him the name, “Berlin Candy Bomber.”

When the Soviet Union blockaded West Berlin, he flew three flights a day from June 1948 - September 1949 from Rhein Main Airbase to Berlin. This military initiative was labeled “Operation Vittles,” as Allied cargo planes delivered more than 1.5 million tons of coal, food, medicine and other supplies. One day at Berlin’s Tempelhof Airfield, Hal met about 30 children lined up at the barbed wired fence watching the planes coming and going. The children had nothing and asked for nothing. He had some sticks of gum and offered them to the children, telling them that if they didn’t fight over the gum and shared, he would drop candy to them the next day. They were well-behaved and politely asked how they would know it was him? He told them, “I’ll wiggle my wings when I fly over.” That night, along with his co-pilot and engineer, they pooled all their candy rations for the next day’s drop. They made parachutes out of handkerchiefs and tied them to the candy. He flew over the next day, wiggled his wings, and dropped candy to the children below. Soon they garnered international attention and the operation was labeled “Little Vittles.”

In less than two years, over 23 tons of candy was donated and dropped to the children and adults of Berlin.

I was fortunate enough to attend the 116th Anniversary and meet Colonel Halvorsen, aka the “Candy Bomber.” At 99-years young, he piloted the C54, “Spirit of Freedom,” to the short Kill Devil Hills runway. I witnessed his flight as he turned final, dropping the huge aircraft low enough above the trees to have them blowing around as the landing gear barely cleared the treetops, touching the ground with a cloud of dirt blowing upwards, only to taxi over to the tarmac and make the first turn! WOW!

They took us from flying a few feet at Kitty Hawk, to flying around the world, to landing on the moon, and an International Space Station! I can’t help but wonder what Wilbur and Orville would think if they could see how far aviation has progressed since their first attempts. Thank you, Wilbur and Orville, for your determination and dedication to solve the mystery of flight.

The door of the C54 sits so high off the ground that they carry a 12-foot ladder to get in and out. This 99year old spryly shimmied down that ladder and walked over to greet the crowds around the airfield. To myself, I thought this must be reminiscent of the day many years ago when children gathered around the fence.

Then, to my amazement, he hugged an older woman with an obvious German accent, and I learned that she was one of the children in Berlin eagerly looking over that barbed wire fence.

If you would like to learn more about other inductees into the Paul E. Garber First Flight Shrine, visit firstflight.org and click on the tab for Paul E. Garber Shrine.

Postnote: If this story has piqued your interest to learn more about the Wright brothers, you should definitely read the New York Times bestseller, The Wright Brothers by David McCullough.

The following day was the actual induction and dawned overcast with threatening rain. After listening to amazing speeches by guests from all over the world and observing a fly over by a C17, we made our way to the visitor’s center to watch the Colonel’s induction. As he walked past me, he shook my hand, grinned, and said, “I didn’t know I’d see you again today!” My response, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

After the induction, descendants of the Wright Brothers and those who assisted them in their endeavors at Kitty Hawk and witnessed first flight, gathered to take part in a wreath ceremony to honor their family members at the first flight markers. As a tribute to the Candy Bomber’s many missions over Berlin, the C54 crew dropped candy with parachutes attached from the cockpit window to young and old alike, on the ground.

The Candy Bomber is just one of many aviation pioneers that brought us the ability to travel the world as we do today. I can only imagine the amazing vision and determination these creative explorers possessed. Most people called them fools or quacks, but they ignored this and stayed the course to make their dreams reality.

370 GATEWAY DR, SUITE A SLIDELL clarkhaner@allstate.com

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!

“Your Estate Matters”

By Ronda M. Gabb, NP, JD, RFC

No self-respecting woman would ever leave the house without a matching purse and shoes, right? Those of you who know me personally must have gotten a good bellylaugh at that statement! So why do so few estate plans bother to match the provisions of the Last Will and Testament (or Living Trust) with the correlating designations on beneficiary-driven assets (like life insurance, annuities, IRAs, 401ks)?

We usually suggest that you review your estate planning documents every three years, or more often if there are life-altering events. But this review should not be limited to your Will or Trust, it should also include all beneficiary designations and Powers of Attorney, Living Will, and location of your “Treasure Map” for assets (see my September 2019 article on this topic or visit my website at www.RondaMGabb.com).

Way too often we see trust provisions made in a Will (a testamentary trust) or in a Living Trust (an inter vivos trust), yet the beneficiary-driven assets do not match.

For example, we met recently with an oil company executive with several children, one had special needs and the others were not yet ready to receive such a large inheritance outright. He actually had a pretty good will that included testamentary trusts

Legal-ease

for the children, and a special needs trust for his son. But when I asked to review his beneficiary-driven assets, his very large (we’re talking millions of dollars here) retirement account had the following box checked “to all my lawful children equally.”

Yes, his children would have inherited these assets without them going through his succession/probate BUT they would have each inherited a million dollars of taxable money outright, not subject to the terms of the trusts he created under his Will, of which his sister was going to be the children’s Trustee.

Sometimes no beneficiary is named at all.

A good financial advisor should never let that happen to your family. This causes a double-whammy: 1) those assets now must go through the decedent’s succession/ probate; and 2) it could cause an adverse income tax event, especially if all of the money must be pulled out in 5 years. I wish I could tell you that we don’t see this often, but we do. Just this year alone, we have done several successions/probate that were totally unnecessary but for the lack of named beneficiaries.

Mind you, this double-whammy can also happen if you fail to update your beneficiary forms after your named beneficiary dies.

If husband named his wife as the only beneficiary and she predeceases him, then we are back to literally having no named beneficiary again. This is a good time to note that you should always name contingent (or secondary) beneficiaries on all plans in case your primary beneficiary predeceases (or dies with) you. Also, don’t forget to check the “per stirpes” box next to your children’s names if you want their share to go to their children (instead of the other named beneficiaries) in case they predecease you.

Next up: divorce--sorry, gotta go there. OK, so Louisiana law takes care of your Will or Living Trust after the divorce in case YOU forget to. This means that any bequests to your spouse in your Will and/or trust are negated upon the signing of the Judgment of Divorce. But guess what? Yep, this does NOT apply to your beneficiary designations!

Just last month I had to levy the bad news to a friend whose dad’s life insurance still named his ex-wife as the beneficiary (it was my friend’s ex-stepmother).

Now do you see the importance of matching your purse to your shoes? Be sure that when you leave this Earth, all of your hard-earned assets will go to those YOU have chosen, and the beneficiaries receive their fair share only when you intended for them to have it.

See other articles and issues of interest!

Ronda M. Gabb is a Board Certified Estate Planning and Administration Specialist certified by the Louisiana Board of Legal Specialization. She is a member of the American Academy of Estate Planning Attorneys, National Academy of Elder Law Attorneys and the Governor’s Elder Law Task Force. Ronda grew up in New Orleans East and first moved to Slidell in 1988, and now resides in Clipper Estates.

40 Louis Prima Drive (off Hwy 190, behind Copeland’s) • Covington, Louisiana • (985) 892-0942 • RondaMGabb.com

31

Leslie Story by

Gates

Man, oh man. Where to start?

It’s the beginning of July, 92 degrees, the kids have been out of school since mid-March, and the world has gone NUTS! I have no idea when or IF school is starting, or the particular face mask protocol of the day. We want very badly to go on some sort of summer get-away but have lost the energy of figuring out where is safe to do so. Also, if ONE MORE thing breaks, I’m going FULL BLOWN KAREN on somebody.

Last week, while cleaning my truck out, I thought it was the end. Meaning, the end of my life.

Keep in mind, my truck was just paid off and, as we know, it only goes downhill from there. Since leaving a bag of chicken feed in my truck bed, tiny roaches had moved in. I have been trying to kill them for a while now, but hidden eggs eventually hatch and lead to repopulation. Also, my sunroof was accidentally left open for four days when I 32

HIGH HOPES let someone borrow my truck. I didn’t know it was open, obviously, or I would have picked one of those four consecutive RAINY days to close it. The discovery was made while placing more roach traps inside. The smell was horrible, and my carpets had thick white mold growing on them. But wait! There’s more!

Along with this GREAT deal, l also received a broken fan blade on our home AC unit!

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! Not only did I get the embarrassing truck situation and a non-workable AC in mid-summer… call NOW, and I will also receive - not one, but TWO - clogged plumbing pipes! One to the kitchen sink that will fill up with some sort of smelly dirt substance AND one that will back up into the laundry room, flooding the floor!

AND for a limited time only, we will throw a batch of CRAZY inside your head… not for one week, or even two, BUT for an unknown extended period of

time! It’s free! Just for calling RIGHT NOW! OK, I’m back.

Upon pulling the floorboard mats out, a few of those creepy bathtub bugs and a family of spiders scattered, one of them holding a squatter’s rights sign.

Maybe I was simply confused because of everything going on in the world… it could all just be running together… but it was completely out of control. More of an angry-looting-situation than a peaceful protest.

My husband gets a ride to work, so I had another mode of transportation to purchase the

required chemical concoction to fix what was becoming a full eco-system inside of my truck.

I returned from the store with mold killer, carpet cleaner, a bug bomb, and no education on the order in which to do this, or any safety instructions for this chemical mixture. However, I did know it was the right situation to wear my face mask, so, there’s that.

I started with the mold killer, scrubbing every nook and cranny then drying it to the best of my ability, with the humidity laughing at my attempts, especially since the padding underneath was still soaked. After that, the bug bomb was activated and the truck sealed to kill anything that set up camp. I returned to the scene of the crime many hours later. The mold had already started growing back and only three roaches lay dead, also growing mold on top of them.

A radioactive lizard scurried away the second I opened the door, his eyeballs pointing in different directions. I cheered him on until he finally decided on a specific direction to run in. He wasn’t holding a sign, but I think he probably needed to be. I’m not even sure why. My truck was emitting an odor that can only be described as “poison mold ass.”

After using the mold killer again, I went in with the carpet cleaner. My handmade, flowery Covid mask was not as good of a choice as I had previously thought, only keeping the thick, humidified chemicals in so I

could inhale them at a longer, slower rate.

As I went to open the passenger side door, the handle broke off.

To be honest, it had already been hanging on by a literal zip-tie, so it was just a matter of time.

Light-headed and hot as hell, I walked around and crawled in through the driver’s side to open the passenger side door. I felt even dizzier as I breathed in the death fumes. Pulling myself back into the driver’s seat, I turned to get out of the truck for a mandatory oxygen boost.

The AC guy caught me offguard, standing there, waiting for me to direct him to the AC problem. I stared at him for what felt like 5 minutes, my eyes pointing in different directions.

I scurried out, finally deciding on a specific direction to walk in, then led him to the outside AC unit. He looked confused, trying to make contact with my straight eye. Like, what kind of paint is this lady huffing? I said, “Sorry, I’m a little high on fumes (confirming his possible thought), maybe I wasn’t clear that the fan blade broke.” He just kept letting me talk. “So, the AC is still blowing inside, but there was obviously some sort of emergency shut-off out here when the blade broke.”

Still letting me talk... “Ummm…

I’ve been changing out the filter pretty regularly, sooo yeah, I’m kinda proud of that. And um, what else?... Let’s see… The dogs won't bite and don’t mind the chicken and ducks, they just walk around and do their

thing. Yeah, as you know, the warranty should still be good since you just replaced it.”

Patiently smiling and obviously amused by my “high,” he finally interrupts…

“I’m the plumber.”

Tomorrow is a curb-side vet appointment for our dog and a Zoom appointment for my son.

Friday, a Zoom appointment for me and then an online school board form to fill out regarding health concerns about our kids possibly returning to school. This weekend, don’t know. Next week, you got it, don’t know. School?

Don’t know. Masks? Don’t know.

Signs? Don’t know. Normalcy?

Doesn’t exist.

What I do know: My truck will be clean.

My house will be clean.

My kids will be bored.

I will binge watching something, then contemplate the meaning of life.

Eat. Sleep.

Not let someone borrow my truck.

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! And, there always will be.

Clean responsibly, stay cool, remain hopeful, and know the people that maintain your home repairs…

Even if you're high.

33

Sponsored By:

by Jeff Perret, DVM

FEARMONGERING Fearmongers spread panic during times of crisis, and they should be vilified publicly. I’m a bit put off, but not too surprised, by a bit of fraud that showed up on Facebook recently. I understand it started back in mid-March, in the early days of the COVID-19 crisis. I hadn’t heard about or seen it until recently. This idiotic post said: “PET OWNERS PLEASE BE AWARE THAT HAND SANITIZER HAS THE SAME INGREDIENT AS ANTIFREEZE: ETHANOL GLYCOL! DON’T LET ANIMALS LICK IT OFF YOUR HANDS; IT CAN KILL!” It’s in all caps, so it must be true, right? So now, my staff is coming to me because our clients are calling

to find out if this claim is true. Are Foo-Foo Kitty and Fido really in harm’s way every time someone smears on a little Purell?

Uh, no. Let me put this in all-caps: ORDINARY HAND SANITIZER WILL NOT KILL YOUR PETS; IT IS NOT MADE WITH THE SAME STUFF AS ANTIFREEZE.

First, there’s no such thing as "ethanol glycol." There is ethanol, or ethyl alcohol - the stuff in your Abita Amber, Bloody Mary or glass of Merlot that gives you a buzz and makes you say things you’ll regret.

Ethanol is also the active ingredient in many hand sanitizers - usually at 60% or more. Then there is ethylene

Dr. Jeff recommends:

It’s the dog days of summer. beat the heat free of FLEAS. 34

WITH BRAVECTO. ®

glycol, which is often used as the active ingredient in antifreeze, and which is not found in any hand sanitizers, short of intentional adulteration. It is highly toxic and has no function in a product designed to sanitize. Similar names, different chemicals, no cross-over in their applications.

To re-cap: ethanol = booze, sanitizer. Ethylene glycol = radiator additive.

Back in March, while the post was still in its infancy, USA Today actually traced it to its source, the living person who wrote it up from scratch and posted it for the first time. They reached out to her for comment. Shockingly, they got no response. The post is still out there, circulating and spreading BS to the gullible.

In Dante’s Inferno, the worse your sin, the deeper you go into the circles of hell, with Satan himself residing in the ninth, deepest circle. Those who commit fraud, a group which I would submit includes the creator of our bogus post, are consigned to the eighth circle. Dante would put her there, along with corrupt politicians and priests, seducers, hypocrites, thieves, evil counselors, perjurers, and counterfeiters. Murderers only rate the seventh circle, which makes clear Dante’s low opinion of fraudsters.

I’m not suggesting that this one person, of all that Facebook has to offer, represents the Face of Fearmongering. Maybe she meant well, and sincerely wanted to help save animals. She probably believed what she posted. If she knew it was wrong from the start, then shame on her.

Whatever her intentions were, though, her false claim made thousands of pet owners wonder if their pets could die as a result of one of the CDC’S basic COVID-prevention recommendations. It also led to a fair amount of wasted time for me and my staff answering the resulting phone queries.

At least those people bothered to call and get the truth. Yet, in just the first 36 hours, the post was seen by 4,800 people; commented on by 2,800 people (almost all of whom told her she was dead wrong); and shared 342,000 times!

That’s how fast bad information (dare I use the term “fake news?”) can spread.

I have to go now; gotta buy one of these GUARANTEED ANTI-COVID COPPER WRIST BANDS that I just saw on a pop-up ad.

Stay safe and sane everybody!

Ace

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THANK YOU to the Slidell Magazine Facebook followers for your pictures!

JULY 2020 IN SLIDELL Slidellians have a way of finding the lighter side of life under any circumstances.

WE MEAN BUSINESS: Local businesses WILL bounce back, I promise you. The St. Tammany Chamber offered a beacon of hope with their video production, “Sprinting for Business,” filming dozens of ribbon-cuttings in a single day.

GOTTA HAVE FAITH: The Apostle Build for East St. Tammany Habitat for Humanity broke ground. The house will be solely funded and built by the congregations of our faith-based community.

HAVE SOME FUN: Kids don’t fully understand the Covid-crisis, and that’s a GREAT thing. They just know it’s summertime. And that means taking advantage of Slidell’s beautiful lake, rivers, bayous, and backyards.

WEAR YOUR MASK: It ain’t fun to do, but do it anyway.

Maybe you can follow these examples and make it fun!

LOOK FOR THE VICTORIES: Every single day is filled with victories, although we sometimes have to slow down to appreciate them. Celebrating these victories with our loved ones makes them even better. It can be as simple as crabbing from your back porch and savoring the catch; or as monumental as expecting your first child. Our health, our homes, even the day itself - victories. (Or, in Chad’s case, a hole-in-one makes it the best day EVER!) OUR CHILDREN: We take pictures of every moment it seems, and we all think our kid is the cutest. Guess what? THAT’S AWESOME. Keep on taking the pics and keep on sending them in. Especially you grandparents.

We love sharing them!

PUPPY LOVE: If things get stressful, go pet your dog. I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible to cry with a goofy, drooly dog licking your face. Who knows all the things puppy love can cure? It’s worth a try!

SHOW YOUR SIGN: Whether it’s an art project to keep the kids busy, well wishes for our healthcare heroes, an announcement for your business, or supporting your cause, you have a voice and the freedom to use it because we live in the greatest country on Earth.

CHAD PALEN HOLE-IN-ONE!

WELCOME BACK SLIDELL MAGAZINE!

Stay safe, stay positive, and we’ll see you next month!

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