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Slidell Magazine This month’s Storyteller will captivate you. (pages 12-17) Writer John Case tells us a story about one of our own, a World War II paratrooper named George Baragona. For most of us, this is our first introduction to the story of George’s life and untimely death. John reminds us that there are heroes, sometimes forgotten ones, all around us. Once you read this month’s Storyteller, you’ll never forget this Slidell son.
Kendra with Slidell Magazine’s mascot, Suzy. It’s good to be the goat!
Editor’s Letter By Kendra Maness
An Irish limerick in honor of St. Patrick’s Day A flea and a fly in a flue, Were imprisoned, so what could they do? Said the fly, “Let us flee!” “Let us fly,” said the flea, And they flew through a flaw in the flue. Limericks are fun to say and easy to write and can be about anything. You should try to write one this St. Patrick’s Day – you may just be surprised at how witty you are! This month’s edition of Slidell Magazine is one of our best yet – wait until the see the photography phenomeninity inside! We start out with Jazz on the Bayou – our absolute FAVORITE event. (pages 6 &7) This year marks the 20th Anniversary of “Jazz”. Read about how Jazz is different from any other festival, then scoop up some tickets and join us at the party!
I have been a HUGE fan of Frank Davis’ my entire life. His “Naturally N’Awlins” stories were the only reason I watched the news when I was younger! It was a privilege to visit with Frank and interview him for Slidell Magazine. (pages 20-24) He’s every bit the affable character in person that he is on TV. We had a blast hamming it up for the camera during our cover photo shoot in Griffith Park. Thank you Frank! On pages 26-28, we bring you Part One of “Courage Under Fire”, a twopart story about Fire District 1 and the brave men and women who place their lives on the line for our community. On April 21, the millage renewal for Fire District 1 will appear on your general election ballot. I hope you will read their story and vote YES to renew the funding needed to ensure the safety of our families and homes.
Don’t forget to wear green on March 17. I’ve got my pinching fingers ready! Kendra Maness - Editor/Publisher Editor@SlidellMag.com Graphics: James Bell Photography: ImkePhoto.com Contributing Writers: Alex Carollo Nancy Richardson The Storyteller, John Case Jeff Perret, DVM DrJeff@SlidellMag.com Ryan Lowe www.GetOffYourAttitude.com Food Spy FoodSpyOfSlidell@SlidellMag.com Slidell Magazine PO Box 4171 Slidell, LA 70459
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Jazz CHEFS & RESTAURANTS SATURDAY K-PAUL’S LOUISIANA KITCHEN CROWNE PLAZA’S BAYOU BISTRO - LAFAYETTE LA PINES LA PROVENCE ANDREA’S TREY YEUN’S TODD SCHAEFFER’S PINEWOOD COUNTRY CLUB BISTRO de la REINE CHESTERFIELDS CHATEAU BLEU BISTRO BYRONZ ROYAL SONESTA HOTEL SWEET CHEEKS BLUEBELL ICE CREAMERIES
ON THE
Bayou Celebrates 20 Years !
Over the past 19 years, Jazz on the Bayou has raised over a MILLION DOLLARS for Louisiana charities like Easter Seals, STARC and various Arts programs. The event is a two-day fun fest that is sure to delight your palette as well as your ears! Known for its amazing food and music, the 20th Annual Jazz on the Bayou celebration promises to be the biggest and the best yet. Each day, 12-14 of Louisiana’s most notable restaurants and chefs serve their finest dishes to the crowd of 300 people in attendance. (Attendance is limited every year to 300 in order to make each afternoon an intimate experience.) Amazing food is a guarantee - celebrity chefs like Paul Prudhomme and John Besh are just two of the many chefs serving each year. “Jazz” is as unique as it is fun – you’ve never attended a festival quite like it. Rather than being held in a hotel or convention center, Jazz on the Bayou is hosted by Ronnie and Gardner Kole, on the beautifully landscaped grounds, at their home on Bayou Liberty in Slidell. A huge party tent encloses a veranda where you will be treated to music, dancing, auction items, wines and more! Arriving, you’re greeted by a jazz band, champagne and the smell of the most amazing food imaginable. The tables are set with crisp white tablecloths and flowers and have assigned seating, which makes this event the classiest festival ever!
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Each night, after the event formally closes, many stay around for a “private” concert by Ronnie Kole on his 1940 Steinway Concert Grand Piano in his living room. It’s an intimate and fun time, sipping a glass of wine, while Ronnie takes requests and shares stories. Everyone is invited to play or sing along. And, with the amazing musical talent that is at “Jazz” each year, both nights have the potential to be impromptu jazz jam sessions!
St. Margaret Mary Catholic School
Join us at the 20th Annual Jazz on the Bayou! Saturday & Sunday March 31st & April 1st 3 – 7pm Chateau Kole on Bayou Liberty Ticket prices are $100 per person, with $80.00 tax deductible. For reservations and information, call Gardner or Ronnie Kole: 504-524-5716 or order online at: www.JazzontheBayou.com
“
If you‛ve never been to Jazz on the Bayou, you‛re missing out on a whole lotta fun! Not just great jazz, but the best food you‛ll get anywhere. Grab your friends and come on out… I‛ll be looking for you!
“
-Celebrity Chef John Besh
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ef o
Extraordinarily Facinating “Ordinary” Person of the Month by Nancy Richardson
David “Rock” Lastrapes March 2012
EDITOR’S NOTE: Every one of us is fascinating in our own way. We all have a story, an experience, or a mission that makes us unique. Each month, Slidell Magazine will name an Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” (EFO) Person of the Month. We chose the title carefully - these individuals are anything but “ordinary”.
W
hat makes a man take a $100,000 a year cut in salary and dedicate his life to helping others? When asked that question, David “Rock” Lastrapes responds that he just wants to help people…but it’s so much more than that. Just who is this construction foreman turned philanthropist? And what makes him tick? The answers to these questions will reveal why Rock Lastrapes has been selected to be Slidell Magazine’s EFO Person of the Month for March 2012. Rock began working at 11 years old, to lend financial help to his single mother and three siblings. By 15, he was working in construction. It was on a jobsite, working with his girlfriend’s father, that he garnered his nickname. “Her dad was the foreman. His name was Rock. The guys started calling me Little Rock. Big Rock was my mentor and taught me so much.” With Big Rock’s passing about 6 years later, the “Little” was dropped and David
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An EFO Person doesn’t hold public office or a board position. They don’t own a company and you won’t find them in the Society section. An EFO Person is your neighbor, family member or coworker that has the “it” factor - something about them simply fascinates you. We all know people like this and, often, these individuals don’t get the recognition they deserve.
Slidell Magazine will be highlighting a different person in our community each month and sharing their story with you.
assumed the name that would become synonymous with his dependability and work ethic.
get – an education. That’s super important to me. They were always encouraged to do their best and get good grades so they could go to college. I wanted them to get the best start in life.”
By age 16, Rock had left high school to join the Navy (he actually trained to be a SEAL originally). “But, I knew that I was never going to get anywhere without an education, so I got my GED in the Navy.” Back on the construction sites, Rock honed his skills with on-the-job training, never missing an opportunity to learn a new technique or skill. “When I realized that I would never rise above foreman, I took night classes and some college courses. It sure helped.” His belief in education and challenging oneself has been passed down to his 3 children. “They’re all good students,” he says. “One is a senior at LSU, one is a freshman at ULL and the third is a junior in high school who has his heart set on becoming a teacher. I’m proud of my kids and I gave them the one thing I didn’t
Send us your submissions! Email me at Editor@SlidellMag.com and tell me about an “ordinary” person that you find “Extraordinarily Fascinating”.
It was Rock’s determination to provide for his children that caused him to work 100+ hours a week on job sites and rise through the ranks to become foreman. The grueling schedule didn’t allow for charitable volunteer time. “All my life before Habitat, I worked very hard to make money for my kids, to make their lives better than I had it. I had never volunteered for anything - I didn’t have the time to. I was too busy making money, building casinos, hospitals, schools, shopping malls, big stuff, and paying attention to my kids.” Shortly before Katrina, Rock’s life was on a course to change forever. “I got in trouble with the law and had to do some community service hours. They sent me to work at Habitat in Slidell. The guy in charge asked
me what I could do and I told him that I was in construction. So he put me to work digging a ditch. OK, so I dug the ditch and watched what was going on. It was a mess…people standing around doing nothing or doing it wrong. After 3 hours of watching this, I went back to the supervisor and asked if I could help them out on the building. He wouldn’t let me. He just wanted me to keep digging. At the end of the day, I told my probation officer that I refused to go back to Habitat. I would’ve rather go to jail for a month than go back.” “Then Katrina happened. I went to work rebuilding the Isle of Capri Casino in Biloxi. But I still had to go back to Habitat to finish my community service hours. My probation officer realized how serious I was about not going back to Habitat. By then, the supervisor was gone, so I went back.” One Friday, as Rock continued to work on his community service hours, Habitat’s construction manager Rebecca Smith was responsible for having a wall-raising ceremony the following Sunday at 3pm. “There was no way that there was going to be a wall raising ceremony in less than 2 days if something didn’t happen fast. So I called my guys from the Casino job, told them where to show up, and to bring their tools.” The following day at 6am, Rock and his construction workers were on-site at the Habitat build. “We all became first-time volunteers, since I wasn’t doing it for my community service hours then. And, the wall-raising ceremony happened right on time!” Reflecting on that first day as a volunteer, Rock says, “That might have been the first moment that I was bitten by the bug. There was so much need here, not only in housing for homeless people after Katrina, but in the way the operation was being handled. Habitat was experiencing a major shift, going from building a couple of houses a year to committing to build 100 in 2006. They just weren’t prepared. The volunteers had no training; they had no power tools. And Habitat was being inundated with hundreds of volunteers from all over the world. They needed me!” As his leadership and construction skills became known, Rock was begged by Rebecca to work as the full-time foreman for Habitat. “My standard answer was that they couldn’t afford me.” He continued to volunteer and, with his respect for the program continuing to grow, Rock finally agreed to work for Habitat for one year. He moved all of his power tools to his new job and began working as site supervisor. “My first assistant, Noelle Butts, was a phenomenal finish carpenter from California and she brought all of her tools as well. One night, thieves stole all my tools, valued at about $4000, as well as all of Noelle’s, valued at about $2000. And, unfortunately, Habitat didn’t have any insurance for them.” Little did Rock realize, this experience was about to show him the true spirit of charitable giving. “Here’s the thing that got me - one of the volunteers from the job site went back home and sent his personal check for the full amount of both my and Noelle’s tools. He gave strict instructions that the money was to be used to replace those tools. That got me… good! People cared! I was beginning to get it.” The dedicated volunteers were just one of the many factors that have caused Rock’s “one year” with Habitat to become six years…and counting. “It’s the people we’re helping, the families whose homes we’re building. They have to put in ‘sweat equity’ right alongside of us to earn their new house. It’s not a handout – it’s a hand UP. These people really appreciate what we’re doing for them, they really do.”
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East St. Tammany Habitat For Humanity Executive Director, Debbie Crouch, couldn’t agree more. “The families that buy Habitat homes are so grateful and they work hard to buy them. Physically, they are there - hanging sheetrock, installing siding, building walls, everything.” Throughout the build, Rock is constantly on-site and serves as job foreman, leading the families and volunteers, coordinating job tasks and supplies and overseeing the entire project. “Rock is great with the volunteers; local and out of town - he truly wants them to have a great experience on the work site and at ESTHFH. We truly have a family of special people at Habitat and we welcome our volunteers. They become our family as well.” His work can be seen in hundreds of homes across Slidell. “Rock is a perfectionist and leads our team building quality houses that families are proud to purchase,” Debbie says. When not on the job-site, you can find Rock hunting or fishing – hobbies that he often shares with the dozens of volunteers who come from all parts of the country and world to help further Habitat’s cause. Rock welcomes everyone and has become a Slidell diplomat of sorts to all of our out of town visitors. “Sometimes I take some Habitat volunteers out hunting. I took one guy out pig hunting. That was quite a big deal for him.” The volunteers can be anyone – doctors, company CEOs, college students, retirees – and are made up almost equally of women as well as men. “Over the past 30 years, I’ve seen women’s roles change dramatically, especially on construction job sites. Women can do anything they have a mind to, and I encourage it, especially in my own 2 daughters.” When reflecting on his past and looking forward to the future, Rock sums it up simply. “I’m not proud of everything I’ve ever done, but I wouldn’t change a thing. When bad things happen, it’s just a way of changing your direction, hopefully to get you back on the right track. When I broke the law and had to pay the consequences, it changed my life…for the better. There is more to life than making money. And being needed is definitely something that makes me happy. Any future plans I have definitely include Habitat for Humanity, whether as an employee or as a volunteer. To be able to give my skills and talents to help others, well, that’s what makes it all worthwhile.”
To volunteer or donate to Habitat For Humanity, contact Debbie Crouch at (985) 639-0656. 10
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APR IL
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Honor And Respect HONOR...
who has spent his life reminding us of those that gave the ultimate sacrifice. Without him, I would have never known about this tragic event, so he is part of this story also.
Buried beneath the soil in all parts of the world, there are stories similar to the one you are about to read. Their similarity: another soldier who gave his life for his country. This one differs to some degree in the circumstances surrounding the soldier’s death, and it is personal because he was one of ours.
It is surprising that this story, and the life and death of George Baragona is not celebrated in our community. Our society likes heroes - no matter what their avenue of stardom is. George was a star athlete for Slidell High School in the late 1930’s. He played football, baseball and basketball, and had he lived, he may have been remembered for his success in sports much as we remember Floyd Fogg, Chris Duhon or Matt Forte.
KIA is a nice abbreviation for something not so pleasant. It means dead, no longer living; it is a military abbreviation for Killed In Action. There is also another military abbreviation. That abbreviation is MIA and means Missing In Action. In this story, MIA means Murdered In Action. That is exactly what happened to Sgt. George Baragona. Sources differ on his rank at the time of his death. This is a true story, or as true as I can write it. There are conflicting accounts of some of the events, so I have related the most plausible account. Part of the intrigue of this story is that the event has largely been forgotten. It could have remained forgotten except to a very few of his family members, had it not been for a man
George Baragona
From all accounts, George lived off Robert Road possibly in the Hasswood area. His dad, Joseph, had worked in a Molasses Mill and later in a box factory. It is possible that by the time George was in high school, his dad was no longer a part of the household. Little is known about his mother, except her name was Clara Mack and she was from Mississippi. Whether this was a single parent household or not, by all accounts they were poor. George grew up toward the end of the Great Depression, but
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Louisiana had never recovered from the Civil War and the previous depression. It was before oil became the economic engine of the state and those in this area scratched out a living in such menial jobs as turpentine dipping, molasses skimming, brickyard worker, or seamstress. All of these jobs paid the minimum and there was no minimum wage. The hungrier you were, the cheaper you worked. George walked to school - which was not unusual, but George walked a great distance. On game days, he would stay with his coach Bill Stevenson. His team members consisted of Slidell citizens we’ve known for years: Tooker Canulette, “Pete” Ouder, J.C. Broome, Wesley Carroll and others. George would serve as a groomsman in the wedding of Tooker, who was the father of former Sheriff Pat Canulette. By the time WWII came, George was a mechanic and on May 30, 1941, he enlisted in the army at Jacksonville, Florida. He was issued service number 34076876 and his enlistment papers state he was five feet, nine inches tall and weighed 154 pounds. Ultimately, he joined the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division. You had to volunteer for this so apparently George wanted to be more than just an infantryman. He also was not supposed to be married, a regulation seldom enforced. But George had met a young lady, Pauline, who was attending what is now Florida State University, and they were married in 1942. It may have been that George joined the paratroopers because “jump pay” offered a bit more financial aid to his family, which would soon grow to three when son George would be born. After Training at Fort Benning, Georgia, more training at Barksdale Air Base and then in Nebraska, his unit was sent to Camp Shanks and Fort Hamilton in New York for transport overseas. While in New York, George was issued his social security number, 116-09-5910. In November of 1943, they arrived in Portrush, Northern Ireland for holding and light training. While there, a basketball league was formed and there were two teams from the 507th. The teams were named the Spiders and the Red Devils, so named for the combat patches they wore on their uniforms. The teams were chosen to play in a tournament in Belfast held by the American Red Cross. Knowing that George loved basketball, it is my suspicion he could have been on one of these teams. Finally, they were sent to Nottingham, England to await the invasion of Normandy. None knew what the mission, known as Operation Overlord, was until just days prior. For security reasons, they were housed behind barbed wire enclosures with no access to the civilian or other military population.
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For any nighttime mission to be successful behind enemy lines, silence was of the greatest necessity. There could be no radio communications. To communicate, they had been issued “cricket clickers”, originally a child’s toy. In the water and in the darkness, the sound of the cricket clickers was prolific as the off-target 82nd tried to regroup. As daylight came, they could see the belfry of a church in the distance. The men from the 82nd and other units had been scattered for miles, but the tower of the church was the only thing in sight and the assurance of high ground. It became a natural but unplanned rendezvous point. Eventually, over the next couple of days, approximately 168 men and 14 officers wandered in. There are several sources that dispute the exact number, but this is a good estimate.
housekeepers. It was located in the village of Graignes, France. The soldiers were welcomed with joy and misgivings. France’s liberation was underway and the Americans were there to do it. It would be the villagers’ job to take care of them, but by doing so, they risked repercussion and possible death by the Germans if discovered. A village meeting was called where every man, woman and child were present and every single one voted to help the Americans. There was some discussion among the troops about staying in Graignes or trying to rejoin the forces nearer their intended drop zone at Carentan. It was not a unanimous decision, but the military is not a democracy. The ranking officer, Major Johnson, decided to dig in at Graignes and defend the village. In hindsight, for George Baragona, this was a fatal mistake. But in the end, it had its positive repercussions for the mission as a whole.
“Cricket Clicker”
At about one o’clock in the morning on June 6, 1944, they boarded C-47 aircrafts for the flight to the interior of Normandy. There were 2004 men and 117 planes. At 2:30 AM they were dropped behind enemy lines. But for many of them, something went wrong. They were dropped sixteen miles off their target. Not only were they off target, they were dropped in a swamp. The swamp had been manmade by the Germans by damming the rivers, just to prevent such an invasion.
The church, Catholic, had been built in the 12th century and was tended by two priest and two elderly
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How does a village of 200 feed 182 hungry American soldiers that may be there for an undetermined amount of time? Food was even rationed to the villagers. Madame Germaine Boursier, fifty years old at the time and owner of a café and grocery, assembled a mess hall with the help of other ladies from the village. They slipped away to nearby farms and villages, giving any excuse they could as to their need for more food. Then they smuggled it into the village hidden in horse drawn carts covered with hay. Other villagers transported the prepared food directly to the defensive sites set up by the Americans and they were feed “on the guns”. The men of the village, being familiar with the marsh around the village, took boats and began to bring in equipment the paratroopers had not been able to transport through the water. Once the equipment was in place, they nicknamed Graignes, the “French Fort Alamo”. That name may have been foreboding. On June 10, 1944, a German patrol approached the village. Several members of the patrol were killed and a search of their bodies indicated that they were on reconnaissance for an armored
The Slidell High School football team, circa 1935-37. George Baragona is on the top row, jersey #41
The 1937 graduating class of Slidell High. George Baragona is in the 4th row, third from left battalion. That was not good news for the 182 lightly armed paratroopers who now realized that they may be facing a heavily armed force of over 2000 men. On Sunday, the eleventh of June, some of the soldiers attended mass at the church. The service was interrupted with the news that the Germans were coming. This time there were a larger number than before, but again the Americans repelled them. More Germans were killed. At about two in the afternoon, the full force of the battalion was brought against the Americans and the village of Graignes. The Americans fought bravely causing much loss of life to the enemy, but there were casualties on the American side also. The officer in command, Major Johnson, had been killed and there were other dead, as well as several wounded who were being cared for in the church. The last German wave that had broken the defenses was the expected battalion of about 2000 men from the 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division Gotz von Berlichingen. The paratroopers fought into the night until their ammunition was exhausted and the order was given to retreat: “Every man for himself.” Many fled back to the marsh. Some found their way to the Rigault farm, where the Rigault daughters Odette and Marthe, hid them in the family barn. In total, twenty-one soldiers were protected and fed there for several days, until they could be slipped closer to friendly lines by boat.
TRAGEDY... It is said that in war, that nothing is more dangerous than a nineteen year old with a machine gun that has just seen his friends killed. It is estimated that the American paratroopers killed between 800 and 1200 Germans. The number of Americans killed in the battle ranges depending on the report; but it is believed to have been about fifteen. Several villagers were also killed. The Germans felt that the vantage point given to the Americans was the tower of the church and, in their anger, took vengeance on it. They stormed
the church, took the two priests to the courtyard, shot them and burned their bodies. They also killed the two elderly housekeepers that lived in the church. Then they turned their wrath on the wounded that had been left behind at the church. George Baragona was in that group. The record is unclear as to the exact time that he and thirteen of his buddies were murdered but, in my opinion, it happened after daylight on the morning on June 12, 1944. George and the other wounded were divided into two groups: five in one group, nine in the other. It is
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The mission, before they were miss-dropped, was to secure the town of Carentan. Their fight with the 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division Gotz von Berlichingen had slowed the German advance and helped assure success of the mission by those troops who did properly arrive. This means that their mission was successful - but not in the planned way.
AFTERMATH...
not known which group George was in. The small group was driven to a pond, bayoneted and their bodies pushed in the water. The other group was made to dig a pit, then they were shot and hastily partially covered with dirt. Then the village was burned.
No one was ever brought to justice for the war crime above. It might be noted that a similar incident occurred about six miles away, resulting in the execution of two airmen by the Germans. One officer was tried after the war and given a life sentence. He was paroled in 1954. In 1986, the United States recognized the bravery and sacrifice of the Graignes villagers and, in a ceremony, awarded several of them
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the Distinguished Civilian Service Award. This award is the highest civilian award that our country gives. On that occasion, many of the villagers attended the ceremony held at the ruins of the church. Odette was there and related that in 1945, she got married, making her wedding dress from parachutes left in the village during those fateful days. She still has the dress. Her sister Marthe attended her first communion in a dress made in the same manner. At some point in time, Greorge Baragona’s body was repatriated. This probably occurred in 1949 or 1950. He rests today in Our Lady of Lourdes Cemetery at the western edge of Slidell, Louisiana. The story does not end there. There is a mystery attached to it. As mentioned, George has a son, George, that never knew his father. He has visited the grave but he is not the part of the mystery. George had several brothers, all deceased but one. He is not a part of the mystery. The mystery is that someone maintains this gravesite. Over the year that I have worked on this story, on several occasions, flowers have been placed on the grave. More mysterious is the fact that pictures of George appear from time to time on the grave. They are not always the same picture and some of them are rare. Who could be doing this? I am sure that maybe a reader of this story can answer this question. In refreshing my notes to write this story, I discovered that George’s wife, Pauline, recently died on January 25, 2012. From her obituary and from her daughter-in-law Gloria, I am told she was a remarkable woman. She was president of her garden club for 50 years and kept in touch with George’s family. George’s brother, Joseph, up in age, traveled to Florida for her funeral.
RESPECT... Some people are just super patriotic. It is no different than someone who is extra attentive and respectful of their parents. It does not mean that those who are not are less American; it just means that some people show their tender side in a different way.
A true patriot: Eddie Polk
Without one of those persons, I would have never known the tragic story of George Baragona. One day while researching another story, I encountered Eddie Polk in Our Lady of Lourdes Cemetery. He told me that just down the walk lies one of the most interesting stories I could write. You see, for many years, Eddie has been blessed with having his vocation a part of his patriotism. He is a travel agent but specializes in WWII tours to Normandy and other parts of the European theatre. He is a walking encyclopedia on the happenings of many battles and found the story of George Baragona. He says these tours were never a profit center for his organization, rather a trip that he loved to share with others. Even today he keeps in phone contact with some of the citizens and participants in Graignes, France. He has taken thousands to the church that was an integral part of this story. He showed me the first picture I saw of George and a picture of a plaque on the church listing George and others. He saw to it that a marble monument was placed on George’s grave. Through Eddie’s efforts, more heroes than just George are remembered, and respected. Thanks Eddie for introducing me to a fascinating but sad event in our community’s history. This is not a solicitation, but Eddie and his wife Nancy plan to lead one more tour to Normandy in 2012. Eddie says this is probably his last, so you may want a chance to grab a of bit of history told by the best. You may contact Eddie at 985-643-4764
John Case February 2012
Thanks to the following for providing information for this story: Pat Canulette, Pete Ouder, J.C. Broome, Gloria Baragona and Wesley Carroll.
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Making ₵ents M
of your money by Mike Rich
My Rich Uncle
and all the nieces and nephews loved him. But what we really loved was that he was our rich uncle. At least he looked rich and lived like he was. He always had a nice car, owned a modest, but comfortable and spacious home, retired at 65, played golf three times a week, and appeared to have no financial problems.
y Uncle Leo was quite a character. He loved to smoke really cheap cigars, his hobby was bartending for tips at a local Italian restaurant, and he and his family never took a vacation that didn’t involve stock car races. He was something else,
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My dad called him “Money Bags.” How did my rich uncle do it? He worked in a department store selling paint. That’s right, he sold paint. Actually, he was the assistant manager of the paint department. But, despite the title, he still sold paint. Basically, he was a department store clerk, and he worked there for 37 years. Not exactly a place where you’d expect someone to get rich. Now, to be honest, my uncle was not rich by the standards of our popular media. I know today, however, that he and his family had a level of financial security that not many people around us did. So, how did this paint department assistant manager do it? Before he died, and long before I became an LPL Financial Advisor, I asked him. His answers surprised me back then, but not today. Consider this: #1 My rich uncle was a fanatic about insurance. He insured everything. He would have insured the family dog if he could. He had gobs of life insurance, a disability policy to protect his department store income, and extra homeowner’s liability insurance in case my Auntie Helen – who was famous in our small town for being a terrible driver – caused a bad car accident and got sued. On the life insurance side, he told me he always bought as much whole life insurance as he could afford, because he loved to see his cash value grow. In fact, he never tired of telling my dad that part of his retirement lifestyle was funded by the cash in his policy.
#2 My uncle and his family enjoyed life, but lived within their means and spent less than he made. It was his rule – his iron rule – that no matter what his family’s financial circumstances were at the time, he always saved 10% of every paycheck. Toward the end of his working career, he increased it to 15% and, he said, “I just watched that snowball grow.” #3 Uncle Leo knew what he didn’t know, so he worked with a financial advisor (“Best decision I ever made,” he told me). Back then, they were pretty much known as stockbrokers, and my department store clerk uncle had one. So, did my uncle’s advisor steer him to hot investments, farm land in Iowa, foreign currency options, or other exotic stuff? Nope. His portfolio, he told me, was “boring, boring, boring, but it doesn’t keep me awake at night.” He and his advisor knew that slow and steady always seemed to win out, so Uncle Leo, rather than chasing rate of return, found that by increasing his rate of savings, he was a lot more successful. #4 Finally, my Uncle Leo made sure that his retirement “overhead expenses” – food, shelter, car insurance (especially for Auntie Helen!), utilities – were covered with guaranteed money. To augment his Social Security benefit and tiny department store pension, he purchased fixed annuities for himself and my aunt. Today, we refer to that money as core funds, but Uncle Leo called it his lifeline. “We might not be able to take a vacation every year in retirement,” he told me, “but with those checks coming in every month like clockwork, I know we won’t miss any meals.” Uncle Leo is long gone now, but his financial lessons live on. The simple truths of 1) protecting what you have, 2) spending within your means and saving the rest, 3) having the help of a professional, and 4) guaranteeing a stream of income in retirement will likely always trump the drivel we hear constantly from the financial entertainers on TV and the Internet. If you’d like to find out how these ideas might work for you, call Andy, Chris, Lee, Steve, or me, and we’ll get to work. In the meantime, I think I’ll light up a cheap cigar, watch some stock car races on TV, and think about my rich Uncle Leo and his wonderful, financially-secure life.
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Talk Time with
Frank Davis By Kendra Maness Photos by: ImkePhoto.com
For better than 50 years, Southern Louisianians have been entertained by the friendly, funny and flamboyant character that is Frank Davis. The award-winning writer, chef, radio and TV personality retired at the beginning of this year. For many of us that have grown up watching Frank and his cultural classic “Naturally N’Awlins”, it’s a melancholy goodbye. Before hanging his permanent “Gone Fishing” shingle, Slidell Magazine editor Kendra Maness sat down with Frank and shared his stories and memories.
Frank: Do you know, about 25 years ago I started a magazine called... Kendra: Called Accolades. It way preceded Slidell Magazine as the first “Official Magazine of Slidell”. I was curious about it so I looked it up. You were the publisher? F: Yes. Publisher, writer, editor, printer, chief cook, washer, ya know, everything. We did everything. Myself and Phil White. I used to work with Phil a long time ago in New Orleans with a magazine called Louisiana Woods and Water. It really had nothing to do with the woods and water. And then we did St. Tammany Magazine. That one kind of expired on its own, because we couldn’t find any advertisers at the time. K: Slidell was a lot smaller at the time. When was that - 1971? F: Yes. Between ’68 and ’71. So Phil said, ‘What are we doing?’ And I said, ‘I think we’re too limited in Slidell, ya know? Let’s call it St. Tammany.’ I said, ‘Because that way we can cover Covington, to the farms of Folsom, horseracing, and everything else. As a professional, I put together two fantastic magazines both times. I just couldn’t find the advertising to support it. K: There weren’t that many businesses. It shows how small the area was. At the time, everyone was a commuter. Now, Slidell is its own industry. F: I want to be writing for you. K: I would love you to write for me, but you’re retired.
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F: I am not THAT retired. I still write for Louisiana Cooking, in fact, I write for a whole bunch of people. K: Was journalism your major? F: My major was a cross between Thermonuclear Chemistry and English. Try to figure that out! K: That’s using both sides of your brain. F: Right and it’s the far side of the left brain. I went to college in the barracks in UNO, then called LSUNO. It was all the old navy buildings; every single wall had a crack in it that big (gesturing). You sweat your behind off in the summer and freeze to death in the winter. The whole class was full of people wearing hoods and everything and – what was the question again? K: What year was this? F: ’61-’62. I don’t even think they teach Thermonuclear Chemistry anymore. My mother, God bless her, influenced me to take English. K: How old is your mom? F: She’s 87. I was always good in biology, I made straight A’s in it in high school, and I still love it. Just look at my background with hunting, and fishing, and everything else. And my mom said, ‘Boy, let me tell you something. You’re not going to make any money studying biology. You’ve got to pick a subject that’s going to make money for you for the rest of your life.
K: English majors making money? You would never think that your mom had such a different view on that. I was an English major in college, it’s a tough field to earn a living. F: Yes it is. But, I started writing when I was 15, see? So she said, ‘You see how much you like to write? Do that. Write books, and magazines, and newspapers and TV scripts.’ And I said, ‘Well, I don’t think they have a course like that.’ She said, ‘English, do English. You’re good at English, and back it up with something.’ So, I backed it up with Thermonuclear Chemistry. But, I dropped Thermonuclear Chemistry after about a week. Back then, the philosophy about taking English as a major was, ‘Oh hell, we all speak English, it’s our language, ain’t you smart enough to figure that out?’ They would say, ‘Whatcha gonna do with English?’ And I would say, ‘I’m going to become a great writer. You’re looking at the next Ernest Hemmingway. The next heavyweight.’ And they would say, ‘Oh, shut up, let’s go get a beer.’
would just ignore something like that. If I felt something going on in my body, I’d go to the doctor. Because of that, I only damaged 5% of my heart instead of 50%. I had a triple bypass and 2 stints. K: Was the recovery hard? F: Oh yeah. You’re cracked open like a lobster. You can’t breathe all the way. They wire you back with stainless steel wiring and it stays in there forever. When I go through the airport, I set all the alarms off - just kidding, of course. They use different material now, but this was in the early ‘90’s. K: So, after the heart attack, did your wife tell you to slow down? F: She told me, ‘If you smoke another cigarette…’ K: I didn’t know you were a smoker. F: I smoked an hour before they did the bypass.
K: What neighborhood did you grow up in?
K: What was your weight at the time?
F: I grew up on Canal and Tonti – the heart of mid-city. The first integrated neighborhood in New Orleans. When segregation ended, they said, ‘We’re going to integration.’ And I said, ‘What the hell is integration?’ And they said, ‘That’s when the blacks and whites get together and they live in the same area.’ And I said, ‘We’ve been doing that for 20 years.’
F: About 280 pounds. I had blockages in 3 places but none in the ‘widow-maker’ which is why I only had 5% damage. The doctor said, ‘You’re a lucky bastard. But you’re going to have to change your diet, quit smoking, and get some exercise.’ When my wife got to the hospital, she walked in the door and I’m lying there with my chest wired shut and the monitors and tubes everywhere. She didn’t even make a comment on all of that stuff. She just walked in, straight up to the bed, and said, ‘If I find a cigarette in your hand, on your lips, you’re going to wish you died on that table.’ I said, ‘Okay, babe.’ I know the Gestapo when I see it.
K: So you were never part of the racial upheaval growing up? F: No. White kids, black kids, white ladies, black ladies – we all helped each other. We had to, it was a poor neighborhood. K: How many were there in your family? F: Just mom, dad, and 3 kids - my middle brother died of pneumonia. And a sister, Rosie, who came along 14 years later! K: Your dad is no longer with us, is he? F: No, my dad died of a massive heart attack 20 years ago. K: That must’ve scared the hell out of you when you had a heart attack. F: Yes. It was ’95. I was in Hideaway Lake in Mississippi for a dance. Earlier that day, I was working in television and I had done a story on the Wooden Boat Festival in Madisonville. I worked all over the area and felt wonderful. Then, Bennie Grunch called and said, ‘Frank, I’m playing tonight at Hideaway Lake, do you want to go?’ And I said, ‘Sure.’ So, I picked up my wife and we went. It was supposed to be dinner first then dancing. Bennie came over and wanted me to sing. I said okay, but I felt like I had indigestion. Well, that indigestion ended up being a heart attack. Thank God I caught it right away. I didn’t fool around with it. I’ve never been that kind of person that
K: How long have you been married? F: 43 years. I had more medical stuff after the hurricane. I ended up with kidney cancer three days after Katrina. I was working with Channel 4 in Baton Rouge, that’s where we moved to a temporary station after the storm. About 3 o’clock in the morning, I woke up with pain all around here (motioning to his midsection). I thought my appendix was about to burst. I went to my doctor the next morning and, after some x-rays and tests, he said, ‘Guess what, it’s not your appendix.’ I said, ‘Oh, that’s great, I’m lucky.’ And he said, ‘The hell you are - we found a great big mass on your kidney and those are always malignant.’ I went to surgery that day and they removed it. It was encapsulated so it hadn’t metastasized. They originally wanted to remove my entire kidney but they just had to take a portion of it. They got it all [the cancer] so I didn’t have to have chemo or radiation. K: Okay, let’s go all the way back. F: All the way back: I was born at Charity Hospital. I loved Charity. I went back there
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and studied to be an x-ray tech. I was in the National Guard to pay for college and played music on the weekends to make a few bucks. I moved to Slidell in 1964, after I got out of x-ray school. K: What instrument did you play? F: Guitar, piano, drums, whatever and I sang. K: But writing was your passion. When was your first paid writing job?
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F: I’m glad you asked me that. Because I was a desperate writer. Right away, I wanted to make it big as a writer. I was determined to be the best ever. I bought the ‘Writer’s Market’ when I was 14. It was a book that listed every publication that takes freelance writing. It told you everything – how much they pay, what they wanted, what the deadlines were, who the editor was. So I’m sending out manuscripts on everything, I’m cranking them out. And they’re all coming back. About 2 months after I started, I’ve got a huge stack of rejection letters and returned manuscripts. I’m about ready to paper the walls with them. Then I got this letter from the National Highway Patrolmen’s Association. They bought my story for 10 bucks. The story was about changing a tire and losing a lug nut. I framed that check and it stayed on the wall for 15 years. K: How old were you? F: - I was 16 years old. I thought I had just won the Pulitzer Prize. I had that much satisfaction from it. That was the ice breaker. After that, I sold stories to a bunch of different publishers. K: What was your big break? How do you go from being an x-ray tech to Naturally N’Awlins on TV? F: When I found out I could sell the writing. I was writing all the manuscripts and sending them off and some would come back but some wouldn’t and I’d get a check for it. I needed some extra money. My wife and I made $70/week when we got married. That was it – for the whole week. I thought, I’ve got to do one of two things – go write somewhere for some magazine or newspaper or I’ll go make music. We’d sit down at the kitchen table and go through the bills and I’d say, ‘How we doing?’ And she would say, ‘We’re $40 short, I can’t pay the light bill.’ And I would say, ‘Ok, don’t worry about it.’ And come Saturday night, I’d pick up my guitar and go down with a friend of mine to Mr. G’s in Lacombe, or to the Pontchartrain Lounge, in Slidell. We’d play all the joints. They paid $40 per musician. I’d stop on the way home and buy some fried chicken. That’s how my wife and I would celebrate that we made the light bill – greasy fried chicken at 3am in bed. So, I decided I could either play music or write but I needed something steady. Then there was a job opening at the Slidell
Times. Remember that newspaper? It was the original Slidell newspaper, on 3rd Street and Maine. The Sentry came along later to give it some competition. I went over there and said, ‘I want to be a newspaper man.’ Oren Blackstone,the editor and publisher, said, ‘Okay, there’s a fire on Front Street and there are two engines there and it’s in the back of the house and nobody got hurt too bad but one had to go to the hospital and it’s going to be investigated by the insurance company. Now, take that information and write a story.’ So, I typed it up and he said, ‘This is good, you can start tomorrow.’ K: It came that easy for you? Because literature and journalism are two totally different beasts. F: It’s just telling a story. If you tell it in chronological order you don’t have to put all the flowery words in. I was a reporter, and delivered papers on the weekends. Then I thought, I want to do more. I want to write for a magazine – I want my name to reach a mass audience. My dad had worked for the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, he was a mechanic. And I knew they had a magazine called Louisiana Conservationist, the state did it. So, I was at a fishing rodeo, covering it for the newspaper and the editor of the magazine, McFadden Duffy, was there and I asked him, ‘What would it take for me to get on with your magazine?’ And he said, ‘First, you gotta be able to write and then you’ve got to go take the civil service exam to be a full-time staffer.’ I went and took the test and it was all English and biology questions, which was great for me. About three days later, he called and said, ‘You passed the test with flying colors. We’ve got an opening for a staff writer. Start thinking of some stories you want to do about alligators, fishing, duck hunting…’ K: Were you already a hunter and fisherman? Was it part of your culture growing up? F: Oh yes - since about 5 years old, every weekend It came very naturally to me.
K: What’s your heritage? F: I’m a quarter-pounder (laughs). Irish, German, Italian, and French. And whatever other festival is in town that weekend (laughs). K: This sounds like the dream job, man. You get to write while you fish and hunt. F: Oh yeah. Everybody at Channel 4 always wanted my job. I get to fish – they paid for my boat, they paid for my bait. I cook: they go and buy all the groceries. I go do Naturally N’Awlins pieces and I get to just hang out with people and talk to them and have a good time and I get paid for all of it. People would say, ‘I want your job – you only work 2 minutes a day.’ (Laughs) Sometimes people don’t think that writing or photography is a job. So, a year after I started at LA Conservationist, I was the associate editor. Two years later, the editor retired and I moved up. I completely changed the format of the whole magazine. Before, it was a scientific journal. I changed it over and made it look like one of the top wildlife and fishery magazines – pictures, good articles, bold headlines. It won all kinds of awards.
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Wednesday Night Jam Session 8pm No Co
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TH
- Kenny Acosta
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arge !
MAR 14TH - Lance Younger MAR 21ST - Tyree Neal MAR 3RD - The 30x90 Band - 9pm
K: You lived in Slidell this whole time? Don’t you think that bodes pretty well for Slidell – that you can be anything you want to be and live here?
MAR 8TH - United Way Benefit Concert Featuring Dana Abbott - 7pm
F: You can be anything you want to be, no matter your location. I’ve maintained this my whole life. There is nothing in this world you can’t do – provided that you have determination, the will, and the talent to go do it. If you’ve got the talent, you say, ‘I can do that.’ Then the determination comes in. I have a philosophy in life and I’ve lived by it from the time I was 15. Success is defined as this: Find something you like to do. Number 2, do it better than anybody else can. Number 3, get somebody to pay you to do it. If you live by those three principals, you can’t be a failure. To me, that’s the key to success. And, if you leave any one of those out – you’re a bum (laughs). I can’t stand when somebody says, ‘Man, I can’t get a break.’ You MAKE your break. And it doesn’t matter what your talent is. You could be the best bed pan runner in the world, as long as you’re the best and can find somebody to pay you for it.
MAR 10TH - TBA
Then I went to work for another magazine for awhile. Wildlife and Fisheries called and wanted me to come back. That’s the time we had my daughter. My wife was a teacher and had to quit her job to take care of the baby and we lived just on my salary. I did that for about 2-3 years. Then, the phone rings and it’s WWL radio 870. ‘Frank, we just wanted to ask you a question. Can you do behind a microphone what you’re doing in print?’ K: You had never done any kind of broadcasting? F: I had been behind a microphone doing music but never broadcasting before. I told them, ‘Yeah, I can do it.’ And we tried it on the air. K: About how old were you? F: The baby was about 2 so I was about 27 or 28. I worked radio on the weekends. I would do 12 hours on Saturdays. From 6am to 6 in the evening, then went back on Sunday and did noon-6. They called it ‘Weekend Live’. Oh, yeah, that didn’t include the Thursday nights that I did the fishing reports. K: That’s tough – because you have to be really ‘on’ at all times – must’ve been exhausting. F: Oh, it was and it got even more so. Once I started doing the show and getting the interaction from people, the phone
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lines started going and all the advertisers didn’t want their commercials tape recorded anymore. No spots, no cassettes, just me talking about them. It was really a new thing at the time, doing the spots unscripted. I was good at it, so you never knew when I got out of the actual programming and got into the commercial and back again. So, it was real personalized. And then, of course, I never put the stop watch on it. So the advertisers would say, ‘Let Frank do our commercial live - he does 25 minute spots.’ (laughs) K: Were you still associate editor of LA Conservationist Magazine? F: Yes, I was doing both for awhile. I’ve always had 2 or 3 jobs at once. Five years later, the last thing I did on ‘Weekend Live’ was run the controls in the studio while we broadcasted live at Pontchartrain Beach, the day they closed. As George Popovich, my co-host, rode the Zephyr, we broadcast the whole thing, moment for moment – the whole ride. All the excitement and the sounds. The phones rang off the hook. People said, ‘I’ll never forget that. I thought I was there with you at the beach.’ K: That’s a piece of New Orleans history. F: Yes, it is. A little time later, the phone rings and it was Jim Boyer, the WWL TV news director. He asked me, ‘Can you do behind a camera what you do behind a microphone?’ It was déjà vu. So he put me on TV on a fishing show on Thursday nights. Then that expanded. What I started doing is – I love cooking. It’s a passion. So, I’d be talking about catching speckled trout or red fish or drum and wrap up the report with a recipe! That became popular - so that’s when I started adding recipes to the fishing reports. K: Did you always cook? F: Since I was 10 or 12. In the earlier days in New Orleans, there was a little restaurant on almost every corner. Got to remember, I lived in the soul neighborhood. I would go
by and talk to the people in the kitchen and ask them, ‘Whatcha got?’ They would say, ‘Baby, what you want? You want some fried chicken tomorrow? Come by and we’ll make some fried chicken.’ So that’s how I learned. Learning from the real N’Awlins masters! About 2 or 3 months later, the news director asked me if I minded working on weekends. He said, ‘I’m tired of using canned stuff: I don’t want to buy that network crap. It’s not personal, it’s cardboard. I want to get somebody that does something that’s naturally New Orleans.’ And I said, ‘Well, then let’s call it that – but let’s do it like New Orleanians say it when they smile.’ If you smile and you say New Orleans, it sounds like N’Awlins. He said, ‘Okay, come up with your own suggestions, your own programming.’ So, I didn’t do TV like every other TV reporter. I didn’t show somebody then do a voice over in the background. I didn’t say much, I let the people tell the story.
K: What do you miss most? F: It’s not just one thing. It was like a puzzle and all the pieces just fit together. I enjoyed the cooking and everybody eating and enjoying themselves. I miss fishing with my guides and fishin’ buddies. I miss roaming the streets of the city, digging out stories form behind the scene. It was all part of being a family. I enjoyed my job. I wish everybody could have had as much fun as I’ve had doing their job. K: You’re like an ambassador for New Orleans. All the experiences, the food, the culture.
K: Give me a date when this was.
F: You couldn’t cover the things I covered if you weren’t born and raised in New Orleans. They just wouldn’t make sense to people not from here – like jazz funerals. People singing and dancing and having a party when somebody dies. The thing about New Orleans, we never take ourselves seriously.
F: That was May 31st, 1981. That was my official hire date.
K: Who were your favorite people? Who was the coolest?
K: So, you had your 30th anniversary this past year and retired.
F: Dom DeLuise, John Goodman, Pete Fountain, the list goes on Kendra. We became good friends and each in his own way reminded me that I had what they wished they had. I said, ‘Damn, you guys, whadaya crazy. Ya’ll are famous nationally.’ And they explained, ‘Yes, but you have a home. We’re in California one day, New York the next, we’re all over the place. When you get up in the morning, you know where you’re going and where you’re from. You get to work in the city you love with people who love you, who want to hear what you have to say and share things with you.’
F: Yes. Well, I hung it up in its present form. I’m writing another book, doing other projects. K: I say that I’m a story teller, not a journalist – do you think that way about yourself? F: I don’t like journalism. You only get to tell a piece of the story, it’s too confining. The thing about journalism is that you can write a beautiful story and if it doesn’t fit in the column inches and the frame, they just cut it off so that it still makes a little sense. Reminds me of Dragnet and Sgt. Joe Friday – just the facts ma’am. That approach kills all the creativity, all the flavor. K: That’s a good word for you – ‘flavor’. In your writing, your cooking, your personality. From talking to you, I can tell that what they say about you is true – you’re the same person in public as you are on TV. F: People would ask the station what I was like behind the scenes. And they would say, ‘That’s him. That’s not fake. It’s what he does, who he is. If you like him, that’s great. If you don’t, we apologize but that’s just who he is.’ K: When you retired, did you wake up the next morning, and think, ‘Holy smokes, what did I do?’ F: No, I woke up, sat up on the side of the bed, then rolled back in and went back to sleep. It was nice not having to get up at 3
24
o’clock in the morning anymore. I had gotten up at 3am for 28 years.
K: Your art is an extension of who you are – your writing, your cooking, TV, radio – it’s all about your heritage as a New Orleanian. Everybody knows that about you and everybody feels like they know you. F: I love people. My wife won’t go shopping with me anymore because of that! (laughs) It takes me 4 ½ hours to get a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk! I stop and talk to everybody! For hours! K: What are your plans now? F: I’m gonna keep doing what I’ve always done, but without a calendar or a watch. It’s easier to pull the trout out of the water without having a cameraman behind you onboard the boat, waiting for you to say something brilliant! (laughs).
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Courage Under Fire By Kendra Maness
E
very little boy dons a red plastic firemen’s hat at some time in their youth and dreams of being a hero. It’s human nature - fire fascinates and scares us all. This month’s article on Fire District 1 is a two-part story, something we’ve never done before in Slidell Magazine. Our office email was inundated with letters from concerned citizens asking us to tell the story of the brave men and women who put their lives on the line for the people of Slidell everyday. In speaking with Fire Chief Larry Hess and Chief of Administration Chris Kaufmann, as well as visiting with some of the on-duty firemen of Station #17, we realized there is too much story to tell in just one edition. The general election and millage renewal vote on April 21st is fast approaching and the future of Fire District 1, and the safety of our community, is on the line. Yes, it’s THAT important.
Walking in the office of Chief Larry Hess is like taking a tour of a firemen’s museum. The small office has walls covered with news articles and is painted bold red with a two-foot high black border around the top. “I painted the office to mimic 26
the color scheme of the fire trucks – black over red. It symbolizes and recognizes those who have given their life in the line of duty, 24 hours a day. It’s remembering the brothers and sisters who have given that last full measure,” Chief Hess said. Chief Hess points to the wall with a framed copy of a Chicago newspaper article.
The bold headline states “FIREMAN GAVE HIS LIFE IN THE LINE OF DUTY”. The front page story is about a devastating fire in a huge bowling alley in Chicago (Chief Hess served as a fireman outside of Chicago in his early career). Larry and two other firemen were in the building, fighting the fire, when the entire roof collapsed on them. Larry was trapped under a table, with the weight of the burning roof preventing him from escaping. The second fireman had been blown out of the windows on the side of the bowling alley from the force exerted in the collapse. “It took over 300 sutures to sew him back together,” Chief Hess said. “The glass just shredded him; it went right through his gear.” The third firefighter, Keith Kinard, a new member of the department, was crushed and killed. Chief Hess chokes up as he says, “We were right next to each other - within arms reach of each other. I just was the lucky one that was covered by the table.” Within five minutes, fire developed all around Larry. “I was making my peace with God, saying my goodbyes to my kids. Then, lo and behold, I see 2 guys from another engine company brushing their way through the debris. I could see the rotating red light through the smoke. They pulled me out. I was pretty fortunate.”
Chief Hess was only 30 years old at the time. When asked if he became wary about the dangers of his job, so early in his career, Chief said, “It made me not want to give up. It made me think of what I could do differently. Keith was the first – I’ve lost 8 other friends in the line of duty – 6 of them in one night in a fire on the south side of Chicago. That was pretty sobering. The last one was when I was a fire chief at Tennaco in Chalmette. St. Bernard firefighters called us in to help them on a fire at a gas station. A friend of mine fell into the fire pit and lost his life.” “Every day, I come in to work and I look at these articles and I tell those 9 friends I lost, ‘Not today, not on my shift.’ I take my responsibilities to these kids and their families very seriously based on those guys.” Retiring from Tennaco in 1991, Chief Hess served as a Director of Fire Services with St. Tammany Parish before assuming his role as Chief of Fire District 1. “It’s a tremendous blessing for me to be affiliated with the guys in Fire District 1. Chief Chris Kaufmann is a stand-up guy – and there are other guys like him that have changed the entire culture of this department.” Chief Chris Kaufmann is the face of Fire District 1. You can see him anywhere and everywhere throughout Slidell – at schools and churches, giving fire safety speeches; at Homeowner’s Association meetings, answering questions about building codes and homeowner’s insurance; at committee and council meetings, tackling issues such as suicide prevention and disaster response; and at ALL the charity events in our community, volunteering his time and labor to help the less fortunate of our area. Chief Kaufmann is passionate about his job and is a statisticians dream. He speaks from the heart about the successes of Fire District 1 and then presents the charts and graphs to prove it. His true devotion is to the firemen serving in the department and the Slidell citizens they protect.
district. “We had 65 firefighters on duty for the first 4 days, with as many as 96 for the following week, serving our community. They worked pretty much around the clock, everybody did, to complete any tasks assigned to them.”
Hurricane Katrina was a pinnacle changing point for Fire District1. Four of their facilities flooded, but the meticulous planning and foresight of the chiefs prevented catastrophic losses. “We didn’t lose any fire trucks because that’s what we do – we prepare, we plan in advance. We shut down the stations that we knew would flood. We did all the right things to remove the things of value - vehicles, computers, gear - and relocate,” Chief Kaufmann said. For 10 days following Katrina, the Chiefs lived on the 2nd floor of the Wellness Pavilion in Slidell, conducting the massive rescue and recovery efforts for their
Part of that work included planning for the future of the Fire District’s funding. “We knew our funding was going to get cut,” Chief Kaufmann said. “89% of our funding comes from property taxes. With the hurricane, 1/3 of the fire protection district’s tax base went away because of damage to the properties. That’s a 33% reduction – overnight.” Knowing the clean up and rebuilding after Katrina would elevate the need for fire safety and protection even more (and knowing their funding would be even less), the chiefs drafted a plan. “We saw this [a decrease in funding] was going to happen. We decided then and there – at the time of the hurricane, we’re not laying one person off. These firefighters were the people who brought in their own personal boats, ATVs, and resources from their homes to help our
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efforts for the community during and after the storm. We came up with a 3 year plan that we would solve the problem through attrition - people retiring or resigning – instead of laying off any firefighters. We needed our firemen. We would cut everything we could and pinch pennies, but we had to have our firefighters,” said Chief Kaufmann. Homeowners in District 1 that were affected by the hurricane were given a 3 year exemption from property taxes. “Those people needed to be off the tax rolls, they were devastated,” Chief Kaufmann said. “The tax holiday was the right thing to do. But, the fire department lost 1/3 of our funding overnight, for 3 years in a row. How did we maintain an effective collection rate of fees and still provide the protection needed for the community we serve? It’s been hard.” “Dollar for dollar, this agency was the worst hit by the property tax loss in St. Tammany Parish; as millage is the majority of the revenue. Agencies funded from sales tax got an increase in revenue (due to the increase in spending for the rebuild). Whoever was funded by property taxes was hit hard,” said Chief Hess. Chief Kaufmann explains, “Our firefighter force was reduced but it was intentional to fit into budget. We applied for a FEMA loan and that helped replace some of the money we didn’t collect from millage. We had to be very good stewards of that money because we had to budget ourselves to get through the process. We borrowed 5.2 million from FEMA. They eventually said, ‘Prove to us that you were financially damaged 25% or more of your department’s budget and we’ll forgive you your debt.’ Well,
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that was easy. We had the 3 years after the storm to provide the hard data and actual numbers that matched our projections. We were actually financially damaged over 30%.” “When we got the letter saying that our FEMA loan was forgiven, that was huge. We had begun funding our debt service in anticipation for repayment in five years. Being good stewards of taxpayers’ money, we had that in our budget, in our plans, on top of being hit as hard as we were.” The chiefs are hopeful that the April 21st millage renewal will be passed and the fire department can continue to operate with excellence. “We’re hoping that the public will understand that this is a millage renewal and not a new tax. The quality of life, the infrastructure, the essential personal, the emergency services – they all have to be here,” Chief Kaufmann said. “We have a record of good money management. We are good stewards of public money and only take what we need. We have a good track history that proves that we’re only going to take the money we need to make our budget each year and it allows for capital improvements. When we made our budget out after Katrina, we intentionally didn’t allot anything for capital improvements because we didn’t want to lay anyone off. At some point, we’re going to have to revisit those capital improvements. Buying new equipment that we need that we haven’t been able to do, relocating a fire station for better protection, etc. We’re not asking for one lump. We’re saying each and every year we’ll budget and project what we need to keep this fire department above the curve and protect our community.”
Stay tuned for next month when Slidell Magazine will go more in-depth on the need for the tax millage renewal and the future of Fire District1.
Lost & Found
M
y 9-year-old daughter h a s d o g g i e r a d a r. We’re driving down the street or walking in the neighborhood, and if there’s a dog within half a mile, she lets out a shriek to let me know she’s spotted one (if any of my kids are destined to make a career in veterinary medicine, she’s the one). Usually, the dogs she spots are with their owners, hopefully on the end of a leash. Sometimes, though, they’re roaming at large, and Claire will beg me to stop and see if we can ID the dog and get it back home. They don’t always cooperate, of course; some run away, some threaten to bite. But when a lost dog turns out to be friendly, and miraculously is wearing an ID tag, it’s a real warm and fuzzy feeling to return him to an anxious owner. We get calls regularly at my office from folks who’ve lost or found dogs. We keep dogs temporarily while their owners are located, especially if they’re wearing our Rabies tags. We scan found dogs for microchips. We put lost dog notices up on our bulletin board. The goal is to get Fido back home. There are some basic steps you can take whenever a pet is lost or found which will likely lead to a happy ending. Here are my suggestions
by Jeff Perret, DVM
www.VeterinaryMedicalCenterSlidell.com
If you’ve lost your dog (or cat), start off by calling the local shelters. Shelter personnel want to help, and many found pets are brought, or at least reported’ to animal shelters. They can let you know if they taken in, or heard anything about, your pet.Next, contact local veterinary offices and ask if they’ve seen or heard anything. All these places can take your name and contact information to get back with you later. Slidell Animal Control on Terrace Avenue (985-646-4267) serves the city of Slidell (inside corporate limits only). The rest of East St. Tammany is under the jurisdiction of St. Tammany Parish Animal Services, in Lacombe on Highway 36 (985-809-0183).
No luck so far? Time to work the neighborhood. Go door-to-door. It’s no time to be shy. Your neighbors shouldn’t mind a knock on the door to ask them to keep an eye out, or if they’ve seen anything already. And put up flyers. I’m not talking about just one small white sign on the stop sign at your corner. Place LOTS of signs, with bold print, on bright, neon-colored paper, 4 on every corner, over a wide area around your home. Ask to place them in businesses too, especially veterinary offices, pet shops and grooming establishments (animal owners are very sympathetic). I can tell you from personal experience that these signs work, and the more the better. Calls will come. Even if the animal isn’t found immediately, the signs get people talking and looking, and sightings can be tracked. If you’re serious about retrieving your pet, they’re worth the effort. If you find a lost pet, all the suggestions above apply. Collars with ID tags and/ or Rabies tags (which should have the vaccinating veterinary clinic’s phone number) offer the quickest results. If no luck there, work the neighborhood, make the phone calls to the shelters and veterinarians, and hang signs announcing your find.
On If you’re unable to keep the animal, you can consider turning it over to a shelter. They’ll continue taking calls and do their best to reunite the pet with its owner, and you can check in periodically to see if they’ve had any success. Sometimes, if a veterinary office recognizes an animal as one of their patients, or if it’s wearing one of their Rabies tags, they may be willing to keep the pet until the owner can be notified. It might take some significant time and effort to take these steps in the event that you come across a lost pet. But do your best and consider that, if you’ve lost your pet, you’d like to think some Good Samaritan out there is doing his best to help with your reunion. And finally, a word or two about microchips. I strongly recommend them. In case you’re not familiar, microchips are inert implants, about the size of a grain of rice, which are injected under the skin. They carry a code number which can be read with a special scanner that is painlessly passed over the animal’s back. Call a toll-free number or go to a web site, and the ID number is then looked up on a data base. The pet’s owner (or their alternate contact or veterinarian) can then be alerted to the pet’s locations, and a reunion soon follows. Chips are available through most veterinarians for around $50 – $60, and the vast majority of shelter-adopted pets come with a chip included with the cost of adoption. All shelters and most veterinarians have scanners, and they’ll be happy to scan a found pet for you. After Hurricane Katrina, microchips were responsible for countless pets being reunited with their owners, sometimes across hundreds or even thousands of miles. If your pet doesn’t have one, get one.
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P.S. I’m showing my age by the fact that it’s an afterthought to suggest that Facebook, Twitter, and the like would also be great methods to get the word out about a lost or found pet. Better late than never, I guess!
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(985) 646-4267
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(985) 809-0183 Comments? Questions? Send me an email at DrJeff@SlidellMag.com Please note: General information questions are fine, but I cannot diagnose or treat problems via email. It’s unethical, it’s dangerous, and I could lose my license. If you have a specific health problem with your pet, you know who to call! 31
Historical Preservation
The Camp Salmen Plaque Project By Nancy Richardson Contributing Writer: Alex Carollo
C
amp Salmen sprawls along the scenic waterways of Bayou Liberty, off of busy Highway 190 in Slidell. With its entrance located directly across from Slidell’s newest cinema multiplex, there couldn’t be a more dichotomous example of our town’s past and our city’s future. Camp Salmen sits on property which was once part of the Salmen Brick and Lumber Company. In 1882, Fritz Salmen built the company near Bayou Liberty because the clay found in the area was ideal for producing bricks. Many of the bricks manufactured at the site were brought to New Orleans and used to expand the city. At the time, the company was one of the largest building material manufacturing plants in Louisiana. In 1901, Salmen acquired 376 acres of property, known as the Breedlove Tract. The property included a 1,700 square foot French Creole cottage. This unique building, thought to have been built by Joseph Laurent in the early 1800’s, is believed to have originally served as one of the first trading posts in the Bayou Liberty region. According to legend, one rainy day in 1921, a boy scout shared his umbrella with Salmen. He offered the boy a tip, but the
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scout refused it. The kindness shown to Salmen during that chance encounter may have inspired him to donate 72.5 acres of land – including the French Creole cottage – to the Boy Scouts in 1924. 32 years later, Salmen’s son, Fred, donated another 35 acres to the scouts. For nearly sixty years, the Boy Scouts used the property as a regional camp, using the cottage for various purposes and later renovating it to use as the director’s residence. They nicknamed the building
Salmen Lodge, in honor of Fritz Salmen. Salmen Lodge is one of only 26 buildings in St. Tammany Parish built before the Civil War and is the only building on the property to survive Hurricane Katrina. Salmen Lodge was added to the National Registry of Historical Places in 2006, making it one of 38 places in St. Tammany Parish to appear on the list. Thousands of scouts from the New Orleans area spent their summers at Camp Salmen, camping along the banks, exploring
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Shenanigans Irish Pub & Fare wildlife and swimming in the bayous. In 1983, the Boy Scouts moved camp to a more rural area in Kiln, Mississippi. 18 years later, St. Tammany Parish entered into an agreement with the Trust for Public Land to acquire Camp Salmen, with the goal of turning the property into a public nature reserve. In 2004, the parish purchased the property (mostly with the assistance of state and federal grants) to foster appreciation of local Louisiana landscape often overlooked by the casual observer, and to promote a conservation ethic through the preservation of native habitats. On September 25, 2010, Camp Salmen Nature Park opened to the public. As one of St. Tammany Parish’s hidden treasures, this park is a living museum with historic properties that contain native plants and animals that flourish throughout the Camp. It is used for recreation, education, and as a way to honor the history of the community. Located along Bayou Liberty, which has been designated as a Scenic Waterway, the park contains 106 acres of pristine cypress swamp and mixed bottomland hardwood forest which provides habitat for a vast array of local flora and fauna. Preserving the Past: The Dream Team Each year, a class consisting of 20-28 students is accepted into the Leadership Northshore program. This leadership development program informs, motivates and increases the awareness of selected participants through seminars and interaction with community decision makers. Participants in the year-long program are put into teams to lead various projects. Leadership Northshore Class of 2011-12 consists of five teams, each required to select and complete a community project. One team (consisting of Charlotte Collins, James Gilmore, Jr., Laurie Manley, Wimbai Mutonono, and Nancy Richardson), comprised of forward-thinking individuals, grandly named themselves the “Dream Team”. In trying to determine what their project would be, they struggled long and hard before visiting the newest park in Slidell – Camp Salmen Nature Park. Immediately the endless possibilities for what this park could become caught the Dream Team’s attention. In touring the park with Park Director Brett Henry, St. Tammany Parish Environmental Specialist for Conservation
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and Education, Dream Team members were immediately captivated by the only remaining building in the Camp which is of major historical and architectural significance, the Salmen Lodge. Letting their imaginations run wild with thoughts of the lodge being used as a trading post between the early settlers and natives, they could only imagine what stories that old cottage could tell. If only walls could talk! However, the task of raising the $750,000 needed to restore this old “lady” to her former glory seemed daunting for the short time allotted. The team members realized they had to narrow down the possibilities and focus on just one realistic project. Attached to the fence surrounding this incredible piece of history, is a single typed page in a simple plastic sleeve that told the historical significance of this edifice. This just seemed too inconspicuous to them! Their group project was decided – memorialize the lodge with a beautiful bronze plaque of enduring quality for visitors to the Nature Park to read about this grand old lady’s proud heritage. Once the lodge has been refurbished, through fundraising campaigns by Camp Salmen, the plaque may be attached to the building itself. The new bronze plaque is to be unveiled to the public at Camp Salmen’s Spring Fling sometime in April or May, 2012. In addition to designing and installing a monument telling the history of the lodge, the Dream Team’s goals were also to establish a long-lasting relationship with “Friends of Camp Salmen” (a group of folks committed
to making the park the best it can be), and assist in preserving and growing the park to increase the number of visitors. As with all important projects, their plan to accomplish these goals required financing. Since the Park’s history began with the Salmen Brick Company, the team is raising funds through the sale of engraved bricks which will be used in the park. The bricks may even be used for the proposed amphitheater which will sit adjacent to the Lodge on the banks of Bayou Liberty.
Salmen Lodge July 1964
“One thing I recognize as critical in the establishment of a new park, especially one with such historic and natural potential, “ says Park Director Brett Henry, “is a voice and advocate that can effectively communicate Camp Salmen’s value with the local community and stakeholders. I believe that with Leadership Northshore’s Dream Team, I’ve found that voice. Their continued partnership will be essential in the continued growth and development of Camp Salmen Nature Park and I look forward to personally working together on many more new and exciting projects in the future.” Everyone is encouraged to take a short ride to see and appreciate this beautiful and historic landscape. Camp Salmen Nature Park is open to the public free of charge Tuesday Sunday year round.
Salmen Lodge As it appears today
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A hundred years from now, Camp Salmen will still be a tourist destination for outdoor enthusiasts, local riders passing through on The Trace, and those who appreciate the beauty of the bayou.
Imagine your grandchildren visiting the park - not only for its beauty, but also to look for the brick with your family’s name engraved on it! They will thank you for helping to preserve and protect the history of this incredible place for them and many generations to follow! And the Dream Team thanks you now.
To be a part of the history of Camp Salmen by purchasing an engraved brick for $100, please contact Nancy Richardson at (985) 768-0442. Your $100 donation also enrolls you as a member of Friends of Camp Salmen. Leadership Northshore is a 501c3 organization. (Tax ID # 36-4612732.) Donations are tax-deductible. In-kind donations are also welcome.
For more information on Camp Salmen, visit:
www.CampSalmenNaturePark.org
For more information on Leadership Northshore, visit: www.LeadershipNorthshore.com
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The Food Spy of Slidell
Food Spy o f
S l i d e l l
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R
ecently, I took a scenic drive down Chef Menteur, past the beautifully rebuilt camps of the Rigolets, to just across the highway from Treasure Island subdivision. I was on one of my incognito, super-secret Spy missions. My destination? A “gotta try it” place on scenic Lake Catherine, Bayou Bar & Grill (20824 Chef Menteur Hwy) Arriving there, I was home, back at the camp, out with the family - all at the same time. It’s a true “celebrate life” kinda place. I had never met a soul in the place, but if I lived a life prior to this one, I am sure I knew ALL of the folks there that were eating, drinking, enjoying the juke box and just hanging out.
You HAVE to try their alligator appetizer! It comes fried or blackened, with a homemade remoulade sauce that is Slap Yo’ Mama good! I suggest you order it blackened. It’s not only tender, but very flavorful – delicious. Guarantee you, I’ll get the alligator every time I visit. While all of this was very good, to be a “you gotta try this place”, it’s about the overall experience. You can take a walk outside on the back deck, greet the shrimping boats as they dock against the wharf, and feel the simple goodness of knowing you are where you belong, among God’s grand tapestry. It truly is a break from anything complicated or busy. The Grill has plenty of room to dance, mingle, play pool, and a few other family atmosphere treats you can enjoy. And, if you do try any or all of these simple fun things to do, I bet you’ll join me in being a regular!
I tried the grilled fish, the steak, the gumbo, the baked potato, and yeah, the Alligator Bites.
Vicky Magas INSURANCE AGENCY HOME
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WORKER’S COMP
FLOOD
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2208 SECOND ST, OLDE TOWNE CORNER OF SECOND AND COUSIN
985-646-1006 504-450-1680
Bayou Bar & Grill has several special nights… Red Beans and Rice Mondays Kids Eat Free Tuesdays BOGO (buy one, get one) Drinks for Ladies Wednesdays Steak Night Thursdays Cajun/Creole Specials Fridays
Go check out this getaway treat. And, tell them the Food Spy rated them
Lagniappe: Y’ever eat Jalapeño Poppers? Wow, simple, fast, and real tasty! Get some fresh jalapeño peppers, cut them down the middle, not in half, just to see inside. Then, clean out the seeds to the extent you want it mild (the more seeds left, the hotter the pepper/popper). I suggest 10 individual seeds is plenty hot enough. Insert a strip of plain cream cheese and wrap them in bacon. Put them in a toaster oven at 350 degrees for around 25 minutes. You can thank me later. Diet tip: Think of bread, rice and pasta as fillers, not food. There is definitely something to less sugar yielding a better diet. And consider this: When we eat, we are storing food for the rest of the day – so night time meals should be much smaller than breakfast!
Reader input: YOU can take part in this article if you’d like! Send us YOUR discoveries, YOUR questions, YOUR memories!
Until next time, remember - You Are What You Eat!
YAWYE!!
v i c k y @ v i c k y m a g a s i n s a g c y. c o m Over 50 years Experience, Integrity & Family Protection
The Food Spy of Slidell FoodSpyOfSlidell@SlidellMag.com
It’s Native Subterranean Termite Time Y’all
A
By: Carol Ruiz – Blue Star Pest Control
s I sit here writing this article, it is the day after Mardi Gras 2012. No more parades, shiny throws, or impromptu parties enjoying the delicacies of the season. Local news will report this year’s success by the amount of garbage picked up. (I think king cake and po-boy sales should replace those statistics.) It’s Lent season so some of us will spend the coming weeks reflecting – and trying to eat less. We push back from the table of plenty and concentrate more on helping others in need. I’m a pest control specialist so this makes me think of Native Subterranean Termites and their natural habits of breaking down cellulose (wood). These tiny creatures NEVER stop eating. They never take a break to reflect on life or assist a fellow colony to find some good food sources. They just do what they do 365 days a year and 24/7 – they EAT. Then, about this time every year, they take flight from the ground to start new colonies. We’ve already had a few Native Sub colonies swarming in the city and activity will increase as the weather warms. For those of us in the industry, we know that this swarming phenomenon is harmless, but we appreciate that it can be a frightening experience. These termites live underground (sub = under & terrain = ground). When the colony has matured, some termites naturally surface and relocate.
For these delicate yet destructive insects, exposing themselves to the elements is very dangerous and many will perish. Since they can’t tell the difference between tree roots or the 2x4’s that make up our homes, it is imperative that we know what Native Subterranean Termites look like, their habits, and how to deter them from our property. Native Subterranean Termite swarmers are black with long white wings. The soldiers’ heads are rectangular-squarish shaped. These termites swarm during the day, usually in March. It is not always easy to find termites, since activity can be hidden by many elements - wallboards, vinyl siding, wallpaper or wooden trim. Evidence of an infestation might include mud tubes, damaged wood, swarmers or simply the presence of their wings. Large numbers of swarmers inside your home is usually a good indication of an active infestation. If swarmers are noticed outside, be on alert, they are in your area. Always get three estimates on any work to be performed, make sure that one of the estimates is from a national company, as they are usually more structured in their pricing methodology. Visit us at www.BlueStarBugs.com and look for great information on: “Before you hire a Pest Control Operator”.
These tips below should be your yearly routine: 1. Regularly walk your entire home and make sure the soil level is at least 3 - 5 inches below the top of your slab or foundation wall. 2. Clear away any stored wood piles or vegetation that blocks your view of the slab. 3. Repair all leaky pipes, gutters or faucets immediately. 4. When WOOD touches GROUND – Termites may be FOUND. So diligently check these areas throughout the year.
Blue Star Pest Control and Pest Solutions
www.BlueStarBugs.com
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Amanda Hover of Champagn e Jewelers enjoys some champagne of her own at the Mona Lisa and Moonpie Parade Carol Wolfram of the Times Picayune shows her bo-bo – a burnt hand while cooking for Rotary Club‛s booth in the Gumbo Cookoff
Wow! That‛s heavy! During her interview with them, firemen from Station #17 fit Kendra with an oxygen tank
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rt on First ntiques and A A of f af st The zany Cookoff at the Gumbo Thanks for a fantastic stor y,Frank! Kendra gives the big guy so me love at the ph oto shoot