56th edition - March 2015

THE OFFICIAL MAGAZINE OF SLIDELL

magazine Vol 56 March 2015

St. Patrick’s Day Parade Olde Towne WE KEEP IT FRESH

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An annual two day event benefiting Easter Seals Louisiana and STARC

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P.O. Box 5519 • Slidell, LA 70469 • USA • 504-524-5716 • Fax 985-643-4859 www.JazzOnTheBayou.com • email: JazzOnTheBayou@aol.com

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Editor’s Letter The Slidell Magazine Family is growing!

John N. Felsher

Zac McGovern

A native of Louisiana, John N. Felsher grew up exploring the waters near Slidell and graduated from Slidell High in 1978.

He’s a professional freelance writer and photographer with more than 2,100 articles in more than 135 magazines to his credit. He also co-hosts a weekly live outdoors radio show and a weekly syndicated show that goes to multiple stations. Contact him through his website at www.JohnNFelsher.com.

From Zac: Born in New Orleans and raised in Slidell, I have always had a love for cartoons and comics. I did editorial cartoons during my time at LSU, where I graduated with a degree in Literature. At Northshore High School, I doodled in every single margin of every single note. This is how I learned how to draw, along with Mrs. Nelle Landry’s art class, perhaps the most important class I’ve ever taken. I now live in Slidell with the love of my life and our little girl. Life is good. I’m glad to see Slidell growing and thrilled to be a part of Slidell Magazine.

Writer/Photographer: “Nauti People”

Illustrator

This month, we begin two new features for our readers: Turn to our beloved Crimi-Mommly Insane story by Leslie Gates and you’ll get your first glimpse of the amazing talents of Zac McGovern! Notice the detail of each creation as it follows our storyline, and enjoy the wit and perspective through Zac’s comical, artistic renderings. It doesn’t stop there! We also introduce “Zac McGovern Presents,” a monthly cartoon feature, created exclusively for Slidell Magazine. We look forward to the animated eye-candy Zac has in store for us each month!

Next up is John Felsher, a long-time friend and contributing writer/photographer for Slidell Magazine. You’ve enjoyed many of John’s stories in our pages. John is a Sportman’s Paradise lover and afficianado, and brings us a unique twist on anything and everything that has to do with the waterways in our area in his monthly feature, “Nauti People”. (Get it?) He’s always on the hunt for a good story about the people, places and things that make living in the sopping wet South such a treat. He’s looking for ideas!

Send yours to: Editor@Slidellmag.com and I’ll pass them along!

Kendra Maness Editor/Publisher

PO Box 4147 • Slidell, LA 70459

www.SlidellMag.com • 985-789-0687 Kendra Maness - Editor/Publisher Editor@SlidellMag.com

Brian Friel - Graphic Designer

RTISE ADVE US! WITH

Graphics@SlidellMag.com

Illustrations by: Zac McGovern www.HalMundane.com Contributing Writers Donna Bush EFOP, Charlotte Lowry Collins The Storyteller, John Case Slidellicacies, John Maracich III Jockularity, Corey Hogue Pet Points, Jeff Perret, DVM Crimmi-Mommly Insane, Leslie Gates Nauti People, John Felsher www.JohnNFelsher.com Once Upon A Time...In Slidell, Ronnie Dunaway Ronnie@WhoDatShoppe.org Tempting the Palette, Lori Gomez www.LoriGomezArt.com Making Cents of Your Money, Mike Rich MikeRich@mypontchartrain.com Go Beyond, Rose Marie Sand Rose@RoseMarieSand.com

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MARCH 2015

Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” People Sponsored by

Detective Daniel Seuzeneau

by Charlotte Lowry Collins

In case you haven’t noticed, I thrive on the stories from every one of my EFOPs. My first interview with each of them is when I get to hear what is in their heart of hearts, what made them who they are, and what they hope to do with the rest of their lives.

This story is one that I think we all need to hear. You will get a glimpse into the life of a police officer, the emotions and the insights.

As an educator, I am constantly reminded of what a difference teachers make every day in someone’s son’s or daughter’s lives, and how under-appreciated they are in our

“To insure the adoration of a theorem for any length of time, faith is not enough, a police force is needed as well.” ~ Albert Camus society. That experience made me acutely aware of how much more difficult another profession would be; one that literally protects our entire society from turmoil.

Since I began writing these features, I have wanted to tell the experience from one of Slidell’s finest, our police officers. Listening to the recent news about random acts of violence against officers on duty - the very people that are serving and protecting you and me - I felt even more urgency to find the right voice. I started inquiring from sheriffs, police officers and friends for a lead. I waited months until finally I found the right one.

Up drives Dan Seuzeneau in his black Tahoe, that looks for all the world like a pumped up, muscle bound hearse. He is young, handsome, suave, intelligent, and most of all, has a heart of gold. Detective Dan holds a Bachelor’s degree in Business from Louisiana Tech University, is a state accredited law enforcement officer, a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division, a former commissioned task force member with the FBI, a Hostage/Crisis Negotiator for the Slidell Police Department’s S.W.A.T. Team, and is currently their Public Information Officer.

Who better to tell us about this profession and why someone would choose to put their lives in danger to help people they don’t even

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know? Oh, then I have to also add that he was the 2013 Slidell Police Officer of the Year and a 2013 graduate of Leadership Northshore, which is where I first met him.

Normally, I interview my extraordinary people in their homes, where I can get the full picture, see their environment, and what it reveals about what’s important enough to display on their walls and tables. But Dan brought his personality with him. Forget what you may have in your mind’s eye. I put my hand out to greet him, but he flashed that great big smile of his and hugged me in a big bear hug. Detective Dan has a heart of gold plus the courage of a lion, and the brains to match. Slidell’s finest!

Dan began his studies right here in Slidell at Lake Castle, graduated from Slidell High School, then received a scholarship and graduated from Louisiana Tech University as a Marketing major. He was your typical college student, having fun and totally active with his fraternity, Delta Chi. As he sat down, Dan set two cell phones face up in front of him and apologized for having to monitor them. They were quite active during the entire interview. But Dan kept his cool and a poker face, no matter the number of interruptions. After reading his resume, I had to ask the question you are probably wondering, whether becoming a law enforcement officer was always his dream. Dan looked very pensive, put his hands together and measured his words as he explained, “As a kid, I was always around law enforcement, but I never said, ‘I want to be a cop.’ My family tried to steer me away from that profession, and I just didn’t picture it as my career. I did volunteer as a Reserve Officer, but that just was for fun.”

Now he looked up at me and smiled quickly.

“After graduation, I applied for a sales job with Cingular, and really enjoyed it. I think my mom was happy to see me put my Business degree to use. I applied for the Executive Team Leader of Assets Management for Target, and was accepted for the position.

For training, I had to move out of state for the first time, to Houston. It was actually more like home than North Louisiana, where I went to college. Then I had a chance to transfer with Target for a position in Covington, and I was so glad to come back.” He cut his eyes over at me and said slyly, “We are unique here, you know?” Then he looked up at the ceiling as if reliving those years. “The job introduced me to the world of investigations and research. I investigated internal and external fraud and theft.” He had the perfect mix of business and law, and his family was proud.

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Suddenly Dan’s tone changed, and he smiled at the ceiling, “I remember the day I read an article in the paper about the Slidell Police looking for applicants for Reserve Officers.

I researched, and saw that I would receive the same training as a Police Officer, but that it would be night classes only, and spread over a longer period of time. I figured I could have my cake and eat it too. “ So where did this passion for law enforcement come from? It all began with Albert Pilie, an NOPD officer and Dan’s grandfather, or “Pap-Pap.” “He retired when I was young, but continued to work in law enforcement as a security officer for the Federal Court House in New Orleans under the U.S. Marshals. I went with him at times, and he was my legacy.”

Dan’s tone was somber. “He passed away when I was in 8th grade, but his legacy lives on through me.” Just as quickly, Dan’s smile returned as he announced, “Pap-Pap was a huge influence on my life.”

As he returned to his own career story, Dan’s smile remained. “So I had what I thought was the best of both worlds. By day, I was in the ‘real world’, and at night I got to play.

Who wouldn’t want to ride in a police car and play cops? Then Rob Callahan, I’m sure you remember him, approached me to see if I would be interested in becoming a full-time officer for the city of Slidell, my hometown. I was afraid it would be a big cut in pay, plus I was worried about my family’s concerns.

It would be a roller coaster of emotions for them. And, they would be worried for me.”

“Unfortunately, Rob passed away in 2006.

Several officers took Rob’s encouragement to join the police force, as there is not much turn over on the force. There is more demand than openings since it is such a stable job.

Lay-offs are rare, unlike most jobs today.”

He was very emphatic as he said, “I just love working for the Slidell Police Department. We are very blessed here because we really do have the support of the citizens. Unfortunately not every police force can say that.”

Once again, he got that far away look, and put his hands together as he relived the decision process. “I didn’t talk to anybody about this, and I weighed it for months. My taste for the profession came as a Reserve Officer, and it was a great experience.” His voice was filled with passion as he reiterated, “I loved it. They were a very supportive group, like a brotherhood. I loved that aspect of my fraternity in college, but this was so much more. Everybody had each other’s back.”

“So, in May of 2007, I just made the decision. Target was an awesome, awesome

experience, and they were big on leadership and professional development, but so is the Police Department. I sat my family down and told them. Mom was the most concerned.

But I explained, ‘It’s what I want to do and nothing’s going to change my mind’. It has been the best decision I have ever made up to this point in my life, and I have no regrets. None whatsoever.” He paused in his energetic speech as he recalled, “Mom made me promise not to change myself.”

I can only say that I clearly could see the kid that was Dan, Pap-Pap’s grandson. He kept his promises to his momma, and still, he manages to be there for each of us.

Now his smile got wider as he announced, “I got accepted for the PD, and I had to tell my family.” Again he was solemn as he tried to explain their reaction. “They weren’t happy, as they had seen the strain on my grandfather. My parents had helped me get my education in business, and didn’t want me to leave the private sector. Grandma said ‘it could change who you are.’”

I asked what that meant, and Dan paused and finally looked up at me before stating, “You become somewhat cynical. You see so much.”

Now Dan got a very serious look and explained, “Police, military personnel, EMT’s, firemen, we all see things the human mind is not wired to see. Most people go an entire lifetime without experiencing any of this. I’ve seen fatalities, suicides, homicides, child abuse, even animal abuse.” He looked up at me quickly and added, “I’m a huge animal lover. I’ve seen all walks of life, both good and bad. But the good part is that I get to see the positive as well.” He smiled at me with a grin that lights the room, and said, “It is always nice to see a citizen come out of the woodwork to be a hero. You would be amazed at the amount of people that, without

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it. Police Officers would love to be able to go their entire career without pulling out their gun. Even the guys who have been in combat overseas. Nobody wants to have to pull their gun out and use it. And that’s a fact,” Dan nods emphatically.

thinking twice, stop to help someone they don’t know. Whether they stop for someone in need of help, or to become a witness and help us catch the bad guys. Plus, I get thanked all the time, and that’s what makes it all feel worthwhile. The heartfelt thanks mean everything.” Dan looked up and flashed that big smile again. “It’s a big ray of hope in the middle of all of this.”

So what is it that Detective Dan loves about his job? “I get to see and do things most people never get to experience, both bad and good. It is something I couldn’t experience anywhere else. Plus there’s lots of action, adrenaline, even the occasional high-speed chase.” His eyes were sparkling.

Now there was a long pause before he gave his overview of the profession, “Most of the time when the police are called, it’s not a good thing.” He shook his head. “It means there is a disruption in society. Social norms are not what they are supposed to be.”

That made me pause to ponder. But I was hesitant to say anything, and just let him finish his description of life on the force.

After a moment he looked at me and tried to describe a police officer’s point of view.

“You have to realize that you might be calling me for help with the worst thing that ever happened in your life. But compared to what we may have seen, the situation seems very manageable. Plus we have to keep our cool.

That’s what may make us seem callous.”

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Unprompted, Detective Dan looked earnestly at me and announced, “The stereotyping is one of the worst parts of this profession. You have to stay calm, calculated, and objective, but others see it as being something else. One major stereotype is that we are testosterone driven, macho men. We have to be strong and sometimes use force, but when we do, the crime requires

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He thought a moment, and shook his head before continuing. “If you lose the trust of the people who you are sworn to serve and protect, it makes the job so much harder.

Think about it, everybody hates you, won’t help, so then the police quit trying to gain their respect. It’s a big spiral. There are bad doctors, lawyers, teachers, priests, bad individuals in all professions. We are all just people, like everyone else.” Then he raised his eyes and looked at me as he said slowly for impact, “The difference in law enforcement is that you are in a position of trust, and if you do something wrong, it gets the attention of everyone. If a Target employee gets drunk and in a fight, nothing much happens to them. But if a Police Officer does the same, he loses his job, his friends, and gets labeled as ‘an angry cop.’ We are held to a higher standard, on and off the job, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.“ Again, I had to pause and ponder. You have to respect the position that puts a police officer in.

“Then Kevin Folse became the Public Information Officer after Rob died, and I knew Kevin would be retiring soon. So I told him that I was interested in filling his position after he left. Kevin obviously told Randy Smith (Slidell Police Chief).” Dan instantaneously smiled and said, “You know, Randy is a great person to work for. So, one day Randy called me in and asked if I wanted to be the spokesperson for the Police Department.” Dan’s smile broadened, as he said emphatically, “I said yes, and he said congratulations, and that was it.”

“Under Randy’s leadership, I was encouraged to run with fresh ideas. He gave me the green light to begin our FaceBook page, create a Smart Phone App, and other social media.

For example, yesterday I posted ‘Burglar falls asleep on the job.’ Now Dan laughs out loud. “We found him on the sofa in the house he was robbing.” Dan took my phone and added the app for me. He beamed, “Now you can be my eyes and ears, get alerts, parade updates, and crime statistics. You know, crime is at a ten-year low in Slidell after Randy took office.” He sat up straighter when he said, “He and I are a great team, and people sense it. I think our FaceBook page shows the greater impact we have on the community. We are not there to just put people in jail. We are there to help others when they are in need of help. We are here to serve our community, not just to protect it.”

Detective Dan shows me on my phone, and scrolls to the photos that citizens posted of two officers in the pouring rain, trying to save a dog locked in a car. Another was of the officers holding the baby they saved with a big thank you. There was another photo of kids smiling up at them during a school presentation. It was definitely a feel-good moment for me, and by the proud look on Dan’s face, it was for him too.

I asked him one of his fondest moments, and he thought before he answered. “I remember stopping to help an elderly lady at a gas station with two flat tires on the front of her car from hitting a curb. She was absolutely distraught.” Dan flashed that smile of his as he recalled, “I remember her telling me I was a Godsend, that she needed to get to a doctor’s office, and she was crying. I put her in my car, and took her to the doctor’s office. Later, she wrote a letter to Freddy Drennan, who was then Chief of Police, and that’s when I found out the details. Little did I know that her husband had just died, and she had recently found out she had cancer.

Her husband was the only person she knew to call in this situation, but I was there to help. That made me proud to be a Police Officer, and confirmed that I had made the right decision.”

I asked him the last question on my list what were his worst moments? The answer took no time at all. Dan clasped his hands, looked down at them, and said gravely, “When you have to go tell a family member that a loved one has died. First you see the incident, then you have to see the after-effect. When they open the door, they look at you and ask if everything’s alright. Then you see the recognition, and their face changes and their body droops instantly. Life changes that quickly. Not only do you

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see the tragedy itself, but the lasting effect on the family.

Then, somehow you have to go home to your loved ones, sit down for the meal they fixed and try to act normal. If their day was difficult, you have to be empathetic, make conversation, or help with homework, when all you want to do is decompress and be alone. If your day was so bad that you have to take time out to process the day, then you may face a barrage of questions, loved ones may take it personally, or they may get defensive. This may have been the very day I promised to take them to dinner. Then you have your extended family feeling neglected as well.”

Now Dan gets a gleam in his eye and a different kind of smile than I had seen before. “I can tell you that an officer can’t be successful at his job without support. It requires a very understanding spouse and family. I am happy to say that I have a great support base. For some, it may be a dog, which is always intuitively understanding, and knows just what to do. But ironically, my fiancé was a victim of a very violent crime and was saved by a Police Officer, so she is understanding and gets the effect of trauma on a person. I hate those days when I am distant because I know that is not fair to her. The balance between profession and home life is hard to achieve sometimes.” He shakes his head and asks rhetorically, “How do you turn off the work switch after dealing with a traumatic crime scene?

Rachel will occasionally ask me during dinner or a movie if we can turn off my phones and be in this moment, not thinking about work.”

I ask if his job description literally requires him to be on 24/7. “My position requires me to have my phone on at all times.” Then he beams at me again with a mischievous look and says, “Cruises are our favorite vacations. Think about it. Your cell phone won’t work out on the ocean, there is no news streaming. It is a true time to relax and have no worries. I have to get out of the country to truly ‘get away.’ We try to do this once or twice a year to reconnect.

Even after my workday is over, I still go to Homeowner’s Associations, handle any press calls, and yes, monitor FaceBook. We don’t even think about scheduling time off during hurricane season. If a big one were to hit, that is when the entire force has to send our families away and be on duty 24/7 until normalcy is restored.”

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During the period of this hour and a half interview, Dan received voice messages, emails, missed calls, plus FaceBook questions and text messages. In spite of all that may have been going on behind the scenes, I was relatively unaware, so thorough was his composure. He laughed humbly, “As a Police Officer, you are never off.”

“Looking forward, this May, I will be starting a new life as a married man. Rachel and I have discussed the possibility of adding kids to the mix. On the professional end, I want to continue to grow in my career. Hopefully, Randy and I will continue to build the new momentum we have started.

I had to ask if we might be voting for him for Police Chief one day. Dan just smiled, laughed, and said, “You never know.”

Thank you to Dan, and all of our boys in blue, for giving so much to our community. You truly are Slidell’s finest.

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3-7PM

Artist SPOTLIGHT

10AM - 5PM • MONDAY - FRIDAY

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Come in to sign up for our monthly drawings!

Bead Society of Slidell

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The Bead Society has dozens of pieces of jewelry and artwork for sale at the mARTketplace and invites you to shop, enjoy, and marvel at the beauty of these one-of-a-kind treasures!

The Bead Society of Slidell holds monthly meetings and workshops at the Chamber mARTketplace on the first Saturday of each month. Meeting times are 11:30-12:30, with an exciting beading project immediately following 12:30-2:30. VISITORS AND NEW MEMBERS ARE ENCOURAGED!

The Bead Society of Slidell is a social group to learn new techniques and ideas of beading.

Beading is an art form where you attach beads to one another by stringing them together to make jewelry, adorn crafts or clothing, create sculptures or wall hangings, and countless other creative and beautiful applications.

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APRIL 30

THURSDAY

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March

SUN

Doubt...a parable Slidell Little Theatre • 2pm

30

Ambassador Meeting Joe’s Italian Restaurant • NOON

Chamber ONE • 8AM Group 1 - Speckled T’s Group 2 - Summerfield

Main Street Art Beat Chamber mARTketPlace 5 - 7pm

Chamber ONE • 8AM Group 1 - Speckled T’s Group 2 - Summerfield

TUE

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Chamber ONE • 8AM Group 1 - Speckled T’s Group 2 - Summerfield

Dine & Discover “Assessing, Managing & Mitigating Obstacles to Success” Chamber • 11:30AM - 1PM

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day

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WED

April

EYP After Hours Social Texas Roadhouse 5-7PM

APRIL FOOLS DAY

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Chamber Luncheon “Places That Were” Feat. Slidell Magazine’s Storyteller, John Case Trinity’s Banquet Hall 11:30am-1pm RESV. REQ’D

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Veteran’s Benefit Seminar Park Provence • 2-4PM

4

THU

Chamber 101 “What the Chamber can do for YOU” Chamber • 9-10AM

Business After Hours ChamberONE at Chamber • 5 - 7pm

Chamber ONE • 11:30AM Group 3 - Fox’s Pizza

Communications Committee Chamber • 8:30AM Chamber ONE • 11:30AM Group 3 - Fox’s Pizza

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Business After Hours Boys & Girls Club Possum Hollow Park • 5-7pm

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Chamber ONE • 11:30AM Group 3 - Fox’s Pizza

Communications Committee Chamber • 8:30AM

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MANDEVILLE, LA Walkers: Raise $100 or more, get a free t-shirt!

Saturday March 21, 2015 • 9am

Education Committee Chamber Boardroom 8:30AM

MON

For more info, prizes and sponsorships:

Miss Nelson is Missing Slidell Little Theatre • 2pm

Bunny & Friends Harbor Center • 2-4PM

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Jazz on the Bayou Chateau Kole 3 - 7PM Bayou Jam Michael Baptiste & Real Soul Heritage Park • 5:30PM

St. Patrick’s Day Parade Olde Towne • 1PM

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Doubt...a parable Slidell Little Theatre • 2pm

Bubbly on the Bayou to benefit Rainbow Child Care Patton’s • 11AM - 2PM

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Doubt...a parable Slidell Little Theatre • 2pm

Beethoven & Blue Jeans Concert Slidell Auditorium • 2:PM

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Look for the RED Fleur de Lis For more info: 643-5678

Chamber Events!

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BOAT-N-FISHING SHOW HARBOR CENTER FRI - SUN

SMH Lunch & Learn Brain Injury Awareness Founder’s Bldg • 11:30AM

Guided Canoe Tours Bayou Cane, Lacombe • 9AM Admission: $10/ kids $5

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join the chamber team or form your own team!

Going to the Chapel • Cutting Edge Theater • 8pm

Carey Street Crawl Olde Towne 5 - 10pm

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Abita Springs Town Garage Sale 8AM - 5PM Guided Canoe Tours Bayou Cane, Lacombe • 9AM Admission: $10/ kids $5

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Jazz on the Bayou Chateau Kole 3 - 7PM

Fountainbleau Park • 9AM

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Doubt...a parable • Slidell Little Theatre • 8pm

Ruthless • Cutting Edge Theater • 8pm

Public Policy Committee Chamber • 8AM

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Doubt...a parable • Slidell Little Theatre • 8pm

Chamber Breakfast LA Economic Development Pinewood • 8AM

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SAT ARTS EVENING OLDE TOWNE 5 - 9PM

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Ruthless • Cutting Edge Theater • 8pm

Carey Street Crawl Olde Towne 5 - 10pm

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Storyteller For the Ladies

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he stories I tell are not always true. There, I have said it. You have asked me a thousand times and I have refused to tell. I have the right to keep a secret don’t I? Now with that said, all of my stories are true. Are you confused?

Well, all of them are based on a framework of truth. I often have to change the facts a little to fit a confined number of words or change a name or location to keep me on the far side of litigation, but my stories are almost all original and always have, to a large degree, a factual basis. My historical stories are as factual as I can get them.

There is not a week that goes by that I don’t get a call from someone that has a story that they think I should write. Of course I am interested in new material, and besides I love to hear a good story told. Invariably, when they spin their story, it is about their grandma or their grandpa; and after twenty minutes of listening, I have neither been moved by its direction nor seen any images that I can convert into words.

people in a ten mile radius of where I sit that could tell a better story. Does that mean I am going to stop? No. Does it mean that you should not start? Of course not, but that is not where this story is going.

When this happens, I use this occasion to give advice. What is the advice I give them? I tell them it is a beautiful story, and should and could be told only by them. You may think I am being condescending, but I am usually serious. And guess what? Several people have taken my advice and thanked me for putting them on the right track to a literary hobby.

I tell them that there is always someone that can do a better job than they or I can, but it does not mean that we should stop doing it. I have been told that my stories are enjoyed. I appreciate that, but I know there are countless

I tell you these self-secrets to let you know that my storytelling method is usually a story that has a rough take-off, but a slow and smooth landing. I shake things up in the beginning and I try to bring it together in a nice sweet package in the end. I try to look at situations that are not necessarily pleasant and have the reader finish with - if not a smile - a feeling of some contentment.

I recently had an opportunity to experience such a story rather than write it. I want to share that with you.

I am a sucker for helpless people. A person can be helpless for a number of reasons. The reason could be medical, it could be self-induced, but it could be that they have befallen a set of sad and defiling circumstances. Victims of this sort are usually children, the elderly, the homeless, or the abused. All of these types of victims are

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helpless and there are various organizations that help each.

This true story has to do with my opportunity to help women of domestic abuse. You see, they may be helpless, and that is bad, but they should not be hopeless. If we can give them hope, they have the potential to overcome, and so this story begins...

Many years ago, we rented a section of our office to an organization that catered to “abused and battered women”.

I will have to say, the organization was a little clannish, as it had to keep a low profile and operate beneath the spotlight as to protect the victims it serviced. There was no sign on the door or other indication as to the purpose of the organization.

February 27 - March 14

There was a sign on our door, as we are an insurance agency.

We posted an emergency number that happened to be our regular office number that just rang at our house after hours.

Remember, this was in the time before cell phones.

Imagine if you will, answering the phone at two in the morning and all you can hear are hysterical sobs. There is no meaning in what is being said and you are confused as to why you would get this call in the middle of the night in the first place.

I did not work for the abused women’s organization. They only rented from us. I did not have their client’s files. I did not know the caller or their circumstances. For some reason they had gotten my number by mistake. I suppose, on one of their visits, they had remembered the simple number of our agency, 643-1234, and assumed if needed, we could help.

I could not send the police. I am sure they thought I would, as they thought I was familiar with their case. I am sure they thought that an officer would knock on the door any minute and save them; but in short, they had called the wrong number. A number that could offer no assistance.

Going Going to to the the Chapel Chapel

The Musical April 3 - 18

I never forgot the pain I heard on that telephone, so many years ago. Then, this past August, I received another call for help – this time, asking if I would participate in a fundraiser for Safe Harbor. Safe Harbor is a very organized and effective facility for the domestically abused. I knew something of their effectiveness and, without a great deal of thought, I agreed to participate.

The experience was life changing. I sat down and remembered what I had forgotten, or what I had refused to remember, that happened so many years before. Now, let me say this, I personally did not come from a family where abuse was present. I say that, but truthfully, I can only speak of my immediate family. I have learned that you never know what goes on next door.

I wanted to raise money for this organization and they gave me a tool to do so. I will not go into the details of how it worked, but it was a proven method, and it did work. I should say that I was just one of six that participated, and we formed a sort of brotherhood amongst ourselves.

In addition to fundraising activities, I decided to use whatever talent I might have to promote and bring attention to this cause.

I decided to tell stories. Yes, tell stories. I wish they were fiction but they were not. They were true stories.

I told about the poor, and I mean financially poor, lady who helped my mother on wash day, some sixty years ago.

Her husband was a drunk who beat her often and severely.

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Mediation

I remember the damage it did to me. That damage was planting in my mind the false assumptions I had about abusers. From an early age, I thought that only drunk, poor people beat their wives.

Then I told my audience what I learned in college. I told them about the beautiful, wealthy co-ed whose boyfriend blackened her eye on more than one occasion. I don’t know what happened to her, but today he is a prominent physician. I left them with the thought - do you suppose he is still abusing?

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I told my audience about a coworker who, along with her husband, were high income people. He drove her to work and picked her up every payday so that he could get her paycheck and keep her dependent on him.

I learned so much from these presentations. I learned so much from my audience. I leaned that the statistics are not far off. For every ten ladies that were present, more than one has been or will be, at some point in time, physically, mentally or sexually abused by a dominant male.

I watched my audience carefully. I could spot the abused. If they stared at me, I would likely find out after the meeting, or in a later phone call, that they had been a victim. If they refused to look at me, the same would hold true.

I suppose I became an Ann Landers to some of them, and their secrets are safe with me, but it reinforced the fact that I was doing something worthwhile. I was doing something more than just writing down a few partially truthful words for someone’s entertainment - words that could be printed in a magazine and thrown away or forgotten.

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I am proud of what our group did. We raised over $100,000. I am more excited about what we can do in the future. Each of us was touched and inspired, and each of us will continue to be an advocate for this cause. I thank Safe Harbor for helping me add another healthy growth ring in my maturing years.

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This story is for you, Safe Harbor. And for the Ladies.

 John Case March 2015

HOURS: Mon-Fri 9-6 Saturday 9-5 Sunday 11-4

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March L&L Brain Injury SLIDELL GUIDE 021915.pdf

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Southeast Louisiana National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters

Worth the Trip!

Story and Photos by Donna Bush

Who’s tired of winter? Who’s tired of rain?

Punxsutawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter! But, here in South Louisiana we count on T-Boy, the nutria at the Audubon Zoo, who forecasted an early spring. Whether you believe in Phil or T-Boy or neither, I’m going to share an outdoor tip that won’t have you freezing or feeling like a duck - and it’s free and easy. Let’s make the most of what is offered right in our own backyard at the Bayou Lacombe Centre, headquarters for Southeast Louisiana National Wildlife Refuges!

The headquarters are located on a 110-acre tract with an interesting history, dating back before the colonial era. The then-youngest federal judge in the country owned the land in 1935. He and his family began the landscaping that you see today. In 1946, former Louisiana Governor, Richard Leche, purchased the property. A lover of camellias, he and his family added many beautiful varieties to the gardens. By 1950, a commercial operation called “Bayou Gardens” was operated on the twenty-five acre property. Visitors came from all over to view the lush flowering shrubs and trees, known for the extensive amount of camellias and azaleas.

Prior to US Fish and Wildlife Services (USF&WS), the property was purchased 16by the Holy Redeemer religious order in 56th Edition.indd 16

1956. During their ownership, it grew to its current size of 110 acres. Outer buildings were erected. Small residences for housing, classrooms, a chapel, an administration building and cafeteria were added.

linking our connection with the land to the past.

The “Then and Now” exhibit demonstrates what has happened to various species over the years.

In 1997, the Conservation Fund purchased the land and buildings. Through them, US Fish and Wildlife Services purchased it in 1998, performing major renovations to create their Administration offices and open the refuge visitor center in January of 2009.

Be sure to check out the theatre with a narration by Teddy Roosevelt on the origins of Delta and Breton Wildlife Refuges. One of the highlights in the Visitor Center is a helicopter flyover exhibit of the Southeast Wildlife Refuges, showing the “pilot’s view” of aerial footage of the chosen refuge.

Today the Bayou Lacombe Centre offers visitors, young and old, a wealth of activities.

The grounds and administration offices are open Monday – Friday, from 7:30am - 4pm.

The visitor center is open from 9am - 4pm, Thursday through Saturday. It is filled with wildlife dioramas and interpretive panels depicting the eight refuges managed by the Southeast Louisiana Refuge region.

These refuges include Atchafalaya, Bayou Sauvage, Bayou Teche, Big Branch, Bogue Chitto, Breton, Delta, and Mandalay National Wildlife Refuges - all located within a short drive or boat ride. New exhibits are being added all the time, with an extensive life-size waterfowl display slotted for later this year, housing 40 life-like waterfowl replicas, with twenty pairs of male and female. There is a rustic swamp cabin with hands-on exhibits

Per David Stoughton, Supervisory Park Ranger, “There are a number of free educational activities available for teachers, parents and scout leaders. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Park Rangers can provide facilitated programs on Coastal Wetland Habitat, Endangered Species, and “Creature Features”, programs with live animals.” You can call the Refuge any weekday to inquire about availability. In addition, there is a self-guided junior ranger program and wildlife scavenger hunt available for children at the Visitor Center. A guardian must accompany children. The self-paced program can take anywhere from 90 minutes to 4 hours, depending on the number of activities chosen. When the booklet is completed, a Junior Ranger badge and certificate is awarded.

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The Visitor Center houses a bookstore operated by the Friends of Louisiana Wildlife Refuges, a volunteer non-profit organization that aids USF&WS employees with promoting educational and environmental projects. The group initiates monthly work/play days to accomplish projects around the grounds.

Typically they start at 9am, work till noon, have lunch (provided by The Friends organization) and then play, which usually involves a scenic paddle on Bayou Lacombe.

Each year in mid-February, the Centre hosts the Bayou Gardens Camellia Open House, presented in partnership with the Northshore Camellia Society and the Camellia Club of New Orleans. Visitors can meander the spectacular grounds on their own, exploring the many trails throughout the property or join a free guided walking tour that will highlight the over 400 varieties of camellias that grow here. See the trail map or pick one up at the Visitor’s Center. Representatives from both clubs are on hand to provide tips on how to identify the different varieties of camellias, along with answering questions about cultivation and growing techniques.

The open house runs from 9am - 3pm.

A guided canoe program, “Paddling Thru Time: People & Louisiana’s Wetlands” takes place on Lacombe’s scenic Cane Bayou February through May. The tour examines how humans have interacted with and changed the land over time. Reservations are required and a nominal fee is involved.

Atchafalaya NWR, Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, and the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers co-sponsor Step Outside Day to promote youth outdoor education and stewardship. The USF&WS and The Friends group hosts pontoon boat tours, paddling, birdhouse building and other environmental education activities.

Friends’ members staff an outreach and education booth with refuge information and

hands on learning activities at the “Earth Day Festival” held annually at Audubon Zoo. Earth Fest volunteers are admitted free to the zoo.

Each spring, the Bayou Teche Bear Festival takes place in Franklin, LA to help educate local citizens about the plight of the Louisiana Black Bear, which is listed as “threatened” under the Endangered Species Act. The festival offers great music and food along with youth and adult educational opportunities.

The first Saturday in June is the Annual Youth Fishing Event at the Pearl River Turnaround on the Bogue Chitto NWR for children aged 4 – 12, teaching them the skills and fun of fishing. For a nominal registration fee, each participant is provided a fishing rod and reel, tackle, bait, T-shirt and lunch.

Prizes are awarded for longest fish overall, longest catfish, longest bream and smallest fish caught. This event is extremely popular and fills up quickly. Limited to 175 children, registration begins in April. An adult must accompany children. USF&WS agents stock the pond with fish and are on hand to assist new fisher persons with rigging tackle, casting and catching fish. Check the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service website for more information.

Every year, USF&WS, in association with The Friends group and the Lake Pontchartrain Basin Foundation, work to clean up waterways

and beaches around The Basin, which consists of Lake Pontchartrain, along with the wetlands, marshes, bayous and streams that provide habitat for numerous species of fish, mammals, birds, reptiles and plants.

Volunteers on the north shore clean litter from Bayou Lacombe and the lakefront of Big Branch by foot and by canoe/kayak.

Each October during National Wildlife Week, The Centre, in partnership with The Friends group, hosts “Wild Things.” This family oriented event includes the Youth Wildlife Art Show with over 300 entries from local schools, canoe and pontoon boat tours, wildflower walks, over 40 guest exhibitors, live animals, hayrides, kids activity tent, casting pond, bird-house building, food and live music. All exhibits are educationally minded and kid friendly. Admission, parking, tours and music are all free. Food and drink sales by The Friends group helps to raise money for support of conservation projects and educational activities on the refuges.

Each December Santa and Mrs. Claus visit The Refuge Visitor Center for story time, cookies and free photos with Santa.

Friends Members are invited on various “Friends Members Only” tours during the year offering an inside look and behind the scenes view of refuge resources. To become a Friends member fill out a membership application at www.flwr.org.

So, let’s forget the cold, rainy days of winter and look forward to basking in the sunshine of spring by taking a trip to view the luscious grounds of Bayou Lacombe Centre, located just north of Highway 190 at 61389 Hwy 434, Lacombe, LA. The camellias and azaleas are usually in peak bloom from December thru April. Don’t forget to check out other programs offered throughout the year at a refuge nearby.

Call 985-882-2000 or visit these websites for more information: www.fws.gov/southeastlouisiana and www.flwr.org 17

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TEMPTING THE

Palette Story and Art

by Lori Gomez

I recently started a new Cultural Economy and Arts Advocacy group. Besides working on the creation of a weekend-long Music Festival to take place in Slidell in 2016, one of our goals this year is to educate charities and organizations on ways to work with artists. Artists are asked throughout the year to donate their time and artwork to multiple organizations, and most of the artists I know are very happy to help..

As an artist, I donate to 15 - 20 charities and organizations every year. It’s wonderful that my work has the ability to help these groups. However, it can be a financial burden on my business. This is a problem that not only artists go through, but also restaurant owners, if organizations want food donations.

Publications are also inundated with requests for free advertising. The organizations depend on these kinds of donations in order to survive. But, if you’re not careful, your business can truly suffer.

While I cannot speak for restaurant owners or publishers, I can speak of my experiences as an artist. The time I spend working on donations means less time to work on projects for me to sell and earn a living. Not only do I lose my time, but also my supplies and inventory. So how can an artist continue to help these groups and not take such a large loss each year? There are several ways that everyone can help each other. Here are a few tips to help organizations understand the process of aquiring works from local artists for a fundraiser:

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The first thing, and it is often overlooked, is that the artist and the organization should have a clear contract as to what each side

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needs and expects. This will protect the artists as well as the organization.

Many groups don’t offer the artist anything.

Depending on what an artist gives to a group, there are several options for the organization to give back to the artist. If an artist donates an original piece of art, it’s more valuable than a print. An original piece of art valued at $50.00 or more may require the organization to offer the artist 50% of the sale price. This way the artist doesn’t lose and is reimbursed for their time and supplies.

Let’s say an organization is hosting a big event and are in need of more expensive art. Depending on how expensive, they may want to offer the artist a percentage of the sale and give them two tickets to the event.

Some will offer one ticket - which is useless to most artists because, not only have they given the group a piece of expensive art, but now they have to purchase a ticket for their spouse to attend with them. It may not seem like a big deal but it adds up when you give to multiple events throughout the year.

For a lesser expensive piece of art, the organization may want to offer the artist a choice of a percentage of the sale or two tickets.

One thing that organizations like to tell artists is that they will get free publicity for their donation. This should be an assumption, honestly. Artists’ businesses depend on it.

When an organization is doing publicity for their charity and showing an artist’s work, make sure to say the artist’s name that created the work, not just “a local artist”. That is one of my personal pet peeves.

The purpose of these suggestions is to give groups an idea of what artists face on a daily basis and to give options on what to offer artists for their efforts. I promise you that when you make an artist feel valued and appreciated, they will generally go beyond what you ask of them.

Another thing that artists encounter is when a festival need a poster. (And there are TONS of festivals in Southern Louisiana.)

Sometimes the organizers expect the artist to donate the original painting. Again, this hurts the artist because of the loss of their time and the expense of supplies.

Festival organizers should have a clear contract in hand when they approach an artist for a poster.

If the festival organizers wish to have the original, again, the artist should be offered something for their efforts. Keep in mind, the artist’s poster is going to bring attention to the festival, as well as the festival will bring attention to the artist. Even still, if an original is requested, there should be some monetary amout offered. A minimum $300 or more depending on the level of artist you are working with. Some festivals auction off the original and give the proceeds to the artist, while the organizations receives proceeds from the sale of the prints. This is a good compromise. Organizations may also want to offer the artist the first 10 prints, as another way for the artist to earn some money.

An alternative, if an organization cannot afford the original, is to pay for a giclee print. This is a print of the origianl on canvas. It can be raffled or retained by the organization.

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If the organization is going to sell prints of the poster, they should also offer the artist a booth at the event. This way, the artist will be available to sign the posters and possibly sell some of their other work.

Cabbage Stir-Fry

Oriental Ramen Cole Slaw

1 lb. cabbage, shredded

3 (3 oz) packages of beef flavored ramen noodles

In the end, we all need to work together.

There will always be art students and some novice artists that will be willing to donate for free. But, keep in mind that professional artists do not get a weekly pay check. We are never sure from week to week how much money, if any, we will bring in. For this reason, many professional artists work a second job to make ends meet. Some people ask why would anyone choose this line of work? I would tell them that I didn’t choose it, it chose me. As an artist, I feel like I contribute greatly to my community. If you took a moment to think about it, could you imagine a world without artists? I definitely could not. I may not be saving the world, but I do bring some beauty to it.

4 tsp. teriyaki sauce

As St. Patrick’s Day quickly approaches, we’re all about to be inundated with cabbage.

I thought I would give you a couple of recipes to help you use it up. The first recipe I acquired many years ago. I like it because it’s different than the traditional smothered cabbage with potatoes and ham. While I still enjoy that, it’s nice to have some other options.

5. Add sesame oil.

1/2 lb. bacon, cooked and diced 1 small onion diced 1 cup apple juice, reduced to ½ cup 1 tsp. white pepper 1 1/2 tbsp. sesame oil 5 green onions, chopped Creole seasoning to taste Salt and pepper 1. Cook bacon till crisp.

2. Add cabbage, green onions and onion.

Stir to coat vegetables in the bacon grease.

3. Add all the other ingredients, except the sesame oil, salt and pepper.

4. Stir well, cover, reduce heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes.

6. Cook, covered, another 10 minutes.

7. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!

This next recipe I tasted at Mayor Drennan’s Wild Game Cook-Off last year. I loved it. It’s a great alternative to traditional cole slaw.

NHC Economic Impact 8x5.1 022015 Slidell Magazine.pdf

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2 (8 1/2 ounce) packages of broccoli cole slaw mix. The only place I could find this was at Walmart.

1 pack of cabbage cole slaw mix or ½ cabbage shredded.

1 cup toasted slivered almonds. (I found these in the salad section of Walmart. I actually got ranch flavored and they were great.)

1 cup sunflower seeds 1/2 bunch green onions, chopped 1/2 cup sugar 3/4 cup vegetable oil 1/3 cup white vinegar 1. Before opening noodles, crush them into 1/2 inch pieces. Open packages and set flavor packages aside for dressing.

2. Place noodles in the bottom of a large bowl.

3. Add broccoli slaw, cabbage, almonds, sunflower seeds and green onions.

4. In a separate bowl, combine sugar, oil, vinegar and the 3 flavor packages from the noodles. Pour over slaw and serve.

www.LoriGomezArt.com

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Of Your Money

By Mike Rich

Pontchartrain Investment Management

Five questions you must ask yourself (and answer) before you retire.

One of my favorite clients retired earlier this year. After a long and successful career in a technical field, she is now enjoying life as a wife and artist. She and her husband started working with me several years ago, and one of the first things we did was get down to business about when they wanted to retire and how much money they would need to do it. Fortunately, they had been great savers, so the decision was easy for her, at least when it came to money.

What wasn’t quite as easy was what she would do with all of her free time, and that worried her some. However, it appears that she (and her husband) are doing quite fine with ways to occupy their time, thank you.

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As their financial advisor, I’m proud to have had a role in my clients’ successful step-off into retirement. Helping nice people get to that point in good financial shape is one of the most satisfying things I do. Our work together is not over, of course. My job now is to make sure they STAY retired.

One of the most important things my clients and I did during our planning was answer five questions. This told us a lot about their retirement preparedness, and gave us the confidence to know we were on the right track. You might want to ask these questions of yourself: Do I have enough money to retire?

Pretty basic, right? The answer is different for just about everyone. However, it comes down to deciding what type of retirement lifestyle you want, and then figuring out if your savings and income will support it.

The important thing is to not guess. When you get down to the basics, the calculation is not complicated and I have a nifty set of software that does a great job of it, especially when it comes to stress-testing your plan.

Call me and we’ll do the math.

When should I claim Social Security to get the benefit that works best for me?

You might not know this, but there are hundreds of ways to calculate your Social Security benefit, and, depending on how one chooses, it can mean a lot of money. If you don’t have a way to crunch the Social Security numbers yourself – and even if you have already made up your mind to claim your benefit early – it’s probably worth your time to meet with me to look at alternatives.

If I need someone to take care of me when I’m old because I can’t do it myself, who will it be, how much will it cost, and how will I pay for it? If you read my articles regularly, you might be thinking right now...

Here he goes again, ranting about the

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cost of long term care. Doesn’t he ever get tired of this?

No, I don’t. Seven out of ten people older than 65 in this country are going to need some type of long term care before they die.1 It’s not a myth, it’s math, you can’t argue with it, and I think it’s the second-biggest challenge facing baby boomers (you can read about the first-biggest next).

Does it mean that most of us will end up in a nursing home?

No. However, a lot of us might end up needing assisted living care, or someone helping at home, or several days a week at an Alzheimer’s or memory care facility so our spouses can get a break. Wherever it is, it’s going to cost.

My clients who just retired have long term care insurance, so they’ve taken care of this. What about you? If you can’t find someone to care for you for free, who is going to write checks that could be $3,000, $4,000, $5,000 a month, or more? If your answer is “I’d rather not think about it”, maybe you should, so call me for a free, no-obligation appointment.

What is my plan if I run out of money before I run out of time? Yep, this is it. The Big One. Baby boomer challenge Numero Uno. If you don’t have a plan for making at least some of your money last all the way through your retirement, you are skating on thin ice. Maybe your plan is to rely on Social Security, a pension, an annuity payout, or spending down your assets. Fine, but don’t guess. Leaving this one to chance can be dangerous to your retirement health. Let’s meet, run the numbers, and test your strategy.

Do I really want to retire? My client-turned-artist fretted a bit about how she would occupy her time after working at a full-time job for more than 30 years. What you do with your time, how you maintain the social network that a job provides, and how you replace the value that productive work gives to your life are legitimate and important issues that you must address.

As for me, I don’t want to retire. I like to work, I don’t have an interesting hobby, Mary doesn’t want me bugging her at home, and, frankly, I want to help as many people as I can, and that’s going to take some time. But, that’s me. What about you? Do you want to retire someday and in a way that you don’t have to worry about money? Do you want to spend the rest of your days doing fun things, rather than pinching pennies? Do you want the security of knowing that you have enough money to retire, a way to pay for the potentially devastating cost of your long term care, and an income that will never run out? I can’t guarantee it will happen because most of the work is up to you. However, I can help you with my five questions and, if you don’t like the answers, maybe figure out a way to fix things.

A successful step into retirement doesn’t happen by accident.

Call me, and let’s get some answers.

Charmaine Seymour | Mortgage Loan Originator | 985.781.3114

Mike Rich

Pontchartrain Investment Management

985-605-5066

Probability of needing LTC: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services National Clearinghouse for Long Term Care Information, 10/22/08

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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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r th 2 it f th s li s s s N n th th e f ti T

From Pier to Paradise

Leadership Northshore’s “Geaux Fish” project Art direction, story and photos by Kim Bergeron

The morning sun danced across the undulating waters of Lake Pontchartrain, creating the illusion of an endless sea of diamonds. A cool, soft breeze provided a stark contrast to the hot, stacked chunks of broken cement that dened the water’s edge. Every now and then, a pelican or seagull would drift by, swooping down and gliding for a while, just inches above the water, then back up into the sky and onward to destinations unknown.

And there we were, like ve little ducklings following Papa Duck, toting cane poles that bounced up and down, almost synchronized, with every step we took. We were armed with several buckets of bait, shing line, hooks, red and white shing bobs and high expectations.

Though my brothers never stated such, I knew they often secretly bet on whether or not my clumsiness would get the better of me and I’d take a little tumble on the jagged rocky shore, bringing home an unwelcomed souvenir of a skinned elbow or knee. They would periodically up the ante by taunting me, waving a line with a freshly hooked worm near my face, almost certainly ensuring that I would become the 22 56th Edition.indd 22

morning’s entertainment in my efforts to escape their silly games. Trying my best to appear undaunted, I opted for bait shrimp, as did my sister, so as to avoid having to hook the slimy worms or crunchy crickets on our lines. My brothers may have caught more sh, but we cringed less. And that was just ne by us.

We had no cell phones, no radios, no distractions other than the three musketeers’ mischievous antics, the melodic sounds of gentle waves splashing upon the shore and the occasional caws from the ying passersby. One could say it was Mother Nature’s symphony, the most perfect of settings.

Once settled in our places, we stood patiently, immersed in quiet conversations with Dad while keeping a close eye on the oating red and white spheres. Now and then, the distinctive plop and submersion of a bob would signal a nibble and the opportunity to successfully snag a catch.

Back then, we thought that these adventures were meant to provide my mother a much needed break and my father an opportunity to share one of his passions with his children. It wasn’t until years later that we realized that they were so much more.

When my father passed, the church was lled to capacity with over 800 family members, friends and colleagues. During the service, my siblings and I each took a few moments to share some of our favorite memories. Though my brothers had not discussed what they would say prior to the service, all three of them spoke of the same treasured times, the days spent shing with Dad. It was a moment of epiphany as each of us realized that the banks of the lake or the trips in the boat were so much more than a means to catch sh. These were classrooms, and our Dad was the teacher, sharing pearls of wisdom that would remain with us for a lifetime. And every now and then, the teacher became the student, learning as much as he taught by seeing life through the eyes of his children.

Some 40 years have passed since those childhood days, and the city of Slidell has grown immensely, including a massive, post-apocalyptic transformation in the wake of 2005’s Hurricane Katrina. Though we cannot forget its devastation, we can celebrate some of the blessings that evolved from its curse.

Among the ner of the post-Katrina treasures has been the conversion of the

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remains of the toppled twin span slabs into the St. Tammany Fishing Pier. In June of 2012, the grand opening of “The Pier” (as it’s known by locals) brought with it quite a few festivities. It was an event symbolic of the area’s rebirth, of progress, of “can-do” spirit. However, that celebration was short lived, when Hurricane Isaac blew through seven years to the day after Katrina, causing signicant damage to the newly opened structure, resulting in a shutdown.

Now, if we Louisianians have learned nothing else in our lifetimes, we’ve learned this much: anything worth having is worth the hard work it requires to make it happen, even if such results in duplicated efforts following a setback. And so for a second time, in January of 2014, the re-opening of The Pier was celebrated.

When setting foot onto The Pier for the rst time, I was hit with a massive, soothing wave, not of the waters of Lake Pontchartrain, but of the precious memories of my childhood, spent right here along these very same banks with my family. I closed my eyes and took in the moment, breathing deeply and allowing myself to be transported. In an instant, this became my great escape, my solitude, my impromptu vacation.

As in those days of my youth, gone were the distractions, the demands, the electronic balls and chains. It was like rediscovering paradise, right in my own backyard. And it was good.

Soon after, I returned to The Pier with my young granddaughters, and as we strolled along its wooden planks, it was the perfect opportunity to share with them the stories of my childhood days spent on the banks of this lake. Of course, their favorite part of the story was the thought of me dodging wormbaited lines as my brothers laughed.

We watched as father and son walked hand in hand down the pier, with poles and bait in tow, and I found myself wondering if the senior of the two would use his time to teach, much as my father had done. A bit farther along the pier were a mother and her daughter, the younger of the two wincing and scrunching her little nose as her mother baited her hook.

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Beneath the shade of one of the pier’s pavilions sat a senior couple, side by side, with shing poles wedged between their knees and a small ice chest on the ground beside them. They were deep in conversation without speaking a single word, the kind of conversation that comes from a lifetime of shared moments and connectivity, and they were creating yet another for the pages of memories stored within their minds. When they noticed my granddaughters watching closely as the couple cast and reeled in their lines, they motioned for the girls to come over, asking if they’d like to give it a try. The girls’ eyes lit up, and they nodded, each trying her luck with a few casts, reeled in far too quickly to actually snag a nibble. But in those moments, it was all about the experience, not the catch.

There were many more people gathered on The Pier that day, some shing, others just taking in the scenery. Some basked in the warmth of the winter sunshine. Others opted instead to sit on benches in the shade.

Those who had successfully reeled in the catch of the day took advantage of the sh cleaning stations in the pavilions’ corners.

In the year since its reopening, many a sh has been caught, many a memory created, and many a sunrise and sunset celebrated, with so many more still to come. Yet, surprisingly, and for reasons unknown, quite a few local residents and visitors have yet to discover this homegrown, backyard utopia.

Leadership Northshore’s Team Geaux Fish hopes to change that with its 2015 project.

The group includes Shelta J. Collins, Director of Open Arms Child Development Center; Gay DiGiovanni, retired budget analyst from DiGiovanni and Associates and USDA; Slidell Police Lieutenant Nicky Mistretta; First NBC Bank Vice President of Commercial Lending Joseph Montlepre; Slidell Memorial Hospital Foundation Executive Director Laurie Panzeca; and Jacqueline Wall, a Management Program Analyst at National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

The team chose this project because many of its members also have fond recollections of family shing outings and bonding time, traditions that some have carried over into adulthood. They are excited by the possibilities of guiding others to discover The Pier, to create similar experiences with their families and friends while learning more about this hidden treasure within Sportsman’s Paradise.

Armed with enthusiasm and a multitude of great ideas, the group reached out to

St. Tammany Parish President Pat Brister, Director of Culture, Recreation and Tourism Wensel Conroy and Pier Director Lisa Maddox, to express the interest in taking on The Pier as their Leadership project. They were delighted with the approval of their request. The team was advised of the unique history of The Pier and its metamorphosis from fallen slab to shing fab.

When Katrina left the span of I-10 in a state of disrepair, then-Parish President Kevin Davis worked to secure a half-mile section

Among the ner of the post-Katrina treasures has been the conversion of the remains of the toppled twin span slabs into the St. Tammany Fishing Pier. of the damaged structure with the vision of converting it into a shing pier. The Parish worked with the Louisiana Department of Transportation and Development and the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries toward bringing the plan through to fruition. After funding was secured through local, state and federal sources, the 650 foot pier became the rst public shing pier in the region since the 1960s.

The Parish is now moving toward Phase II of the project, which will entail renovation of the half-mile concrete portion of the Twin Span with the addition of lights, railings, more sh cleaning stations and restrooms, with a long term goal of adding night shing and possibly summer shing camp for children to its offerings.

For its part in the St. Tammany Fishing Pier’s continuing development, Team

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Geaux Fish has a four part strategy that includes beautication, marketing, education and fundraising.

Plans for the beautication efforts include the addition of three 12’ by 20’ pavilions with handicapped-accessible concrete pads, three benches and simple but hardy landscaping, all of which will help create a park-like setting at the entrance to The Pier. The anticipated costs include $8,500 per pavilion and $550 per bench, with a total project cost of $45,000.

The team has partnered with Marsh and Bayou Magazine to assist in the marketing efforts, and will be featured in a booth at the 4th Annual Boat-N-Fishing Show, to be held at the Northshore Harbor Center, March 20 through 22. Additional, ongoing publicity will include coverage provided

by Slidell Magazine, local newspapers, social media, brochures and posters, outreach to local schools and enhancement of The Pier’s website. Team Geaux Fish is also planning to host a Family Fun Run and Fishing Rodeo on The Pier, with details currently in the works. The goal is to increase awareness of The Pier and to grow annual attendance from the current 22,000 visitors per year to over 35,000.

New educational features will include ten strategically placed, permanent signs

designed to help visitors identify sh and wildlife and to learn shing techniques and the history of The Pier. Also planned is an instructional, educational video, with a goal of making The Pier a destination for school eld trips.

The fourth component is fundraising to make the project possible. The team will work to secure funds via private and corporate donations and grant applications, and with assistance of government agencies and charitable foundations.

As Team Geaux Fish moves forward, they are seeking volunteers to assist with the landscaping and the forthcoming events, as well as contributions toward the cause, all of which will be coordinated in cooperation with the St. Tammany Parish Department of Culture, Recreation and Tourism. Project donations can be sent to Leadership Northshore Geaux Fish c/o DiGiovanni and Associates, CPA’s 1290 7th Street, Slidell LA 70458, or by contacting Lt. Nicky Mistretta at (985)774-6886 or namistretta@yahoo.com.

Each of the team members recognizes The Pier for the gem that it is and its potential of being so much more. They are honored to be part of the efforts with “Project Geaux Fish @ The Pier: making memories, one cast at a time.”

St. Tammany Fishing Pier At a Glance 54001 E. Howze Beach Road near Slidell, (East side of I-10, exit 261) Phone 985.649.1922 Website www.sttammanyshingpier.com Hours of Operation Hours are seasonal. Please check website or call to conrm.

Winter 6 a.m. to 5 p.m. (beginning Nov. 2) Summer 6 a.m. to 8 p.m.

Fall 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. (beginning Sept. 1) Admission 12 and over: $3 shing or $1 sightseeing Under 12: Free shing and sightseeing Fishing Licenses Required by all who are shing Available by phone, 1-888-765-2602, via www.wlf.louisiana.gov/licenses/shing or at several local bait shops and stores

24 56th Edition.indd 24

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2/24/2015 4:57:28 PM

By John N. Felsher

Sponsored by

Are you a “nauti” person? Do you think nauti thoughts? Have you done nauti things? If so, I want to hear about it so I can tell everyone else your story!

(Cue the boatswain’s whistle.) Now hear this!

This is your Column Captain speaking. From now on, this column will focus on all things nautical - meaning in, on, under or about water – so take your minds out of the gutter!

(Unless the gutter is full of water.) Inspired

by Bill and Laura Borchert, two prominent nauti Northshore people, we’ll highlight Slidellians who love the water, work on the water, play on the water and anything else connected to water.

So much life and culture in Slidell revolves around water. Ride in any direction and you’ll see we’re surrounded by lakes, rivers, swamps, marshes and bayous. Under our feet, artesian springs bubble up, one of the reasons so many people moved to this side of Lake Pontchartrain in the first place. We used to call it “rotten egg” water because of the sulfur smell. I remember people coming to Slidell with vehicles full of empty containers to take home all that good water they could carry.

With so much water around, we should find endless nauti ideas to explore. For instance,

have you ever competed in the Bayou Liberty Pirogue Races? Did you turn the big crank to open the old wooden Bayou Liberty Bridge?

Are you a commercial fisherman making a living off the natural bounty of the area?

Are you a shrimp boat captain? Are you a riverboat pilot? Did you work as a lock or bridge tender? Do you race powerboats?

Did you invent something nautical? Do you build homemade boats? Did you sail around the world? What about just great memories from family times on the Gulf or the lake, or Pontchartrain Beach?

Of course, I can’t be everywhere at once and I tend to miss things as I grow older, so I need some help. I need to hear a lot of good ideas from you so I can feature them in future Nauti People columns. So let’s hear it. What’s your nauti story or the nauti story of someone you know?

Here’s mine: I come from a long line of nauti people. My dad, Hank Felsher, served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and the Korean War. After, he worked in the shipping industry until his death in 1995. His father served aboard a battleship during World War I. My great grandfather captained ships hauling cargo all over the Gulf of Mexico from about 1880 to the 1930’s. His father ran the

Union Navy blockade to bring supplies to the Confederacy during the Civil War. Growing up with a pedigree like that in a land so blessed with water, I naturally gravitated toward the abundant lakes and streams of the Sportsman’s Paradise while growing up in Slidell (Slidell High Class of 1978). Dad wanted to explore every bayou in Louisiana and we notched quite a few, at least in the southeastern part of the state.

Dad always tried to turn our trips into bigger adventures, even if we just went down the road to look for frogs in a ditch. He called every place “out in the middle of nowhere.”

Sometimes, we truly were “out in the middle of nowhere” in some vast coastal marsh or endless cypress swamp. Perhaps, we just visited a park lagoon. Any little bayou or woodlot with more than two trees was always dubbed “out in the middle of nowhere.”

I could tell many nauti tales about my Dad, but I’ll share just one at this time. While boaters today commonly see alligators in Louisiana wetlands, we didn’t see many large reptiles in the 1960’s. I remember seeing my first alligator on a fishing trip with my Dad, two older brothers and cousin.

We motored through black water lapping

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against cypress trees festooned with Spanish moss “out in the middle of nowhere.”

To a single-digit midget like me, such a place loomed with constant danger and mystery. Always the prankster, Dad fed upon that anxiety. He told tall tales of giant alligators devouring human trespassers daring to enter their forbidding wilderness as we explored this vast swamp. Of course, he said no human had ever passed this way and lived to tell about it. We believed him.

Full of teen-aged bravado, my cousin and brothers tried to outboast each other in their faux fearlessness. They joked that these to date never-before-seen alligators would surely fear them more as they jostled to see who would take the honor of first diving into the water with a knife clenched in his teeth to fight the toothy beast just like Tarzan -- should an alligator so foolishly appear! Of course, such youthful bravado makes interesting, if academic, conversation – until slapped abruptly by the truth!

As we rounded a bend, we saw our first alligator ever, an eight-footer sunning itself on a nearby log. Dad pulled out his knife and offered it to my brothers and cousin. “There he is. Who’s going first?” he asked, finding no takers.

A few years after the alligator incident, I wrote an article about fishing and asked my mother to drive me to the local newspaper, The Daily Times, on a rainy Saturday in March.

I showed the hand-written article to the managing editor who said he needed someone to write columns about hunting, fishing, boating and other outdoors topics.

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A 16-year-old junior in high school, I said I didn’t think I could afford to pay him every week for that privilege. The editor laughed and said I had it wrong. He would pay me to go fishing and write about it! I wrote a column called Felsher’s Fishin’ for three years until I went away to the University of Southwestern Louisiana, now called University of Louisiana at Lafayette.

I worked my way through school as the Lafayette Daily Advertiser outdoors editor until I graduated in 1984 with a commission in the Air Force. I served Uncle Sam for 12 years before returning to Louisiana in 1996. After leaving the Air Force, I served as the outdoors editor for the Hammond Daily Star and then the Lake Charles American Press until Hurricane Rita destroyed my home in 2005 and forced me to evacuate to Arkansas.

Since returning home from overseas in 1996, I concentrated on a freelance writing career. Since that time, I’ve sold nearly 2,200 magazine articles to more than 137 periodicals, not counting thousands of newspaper and internet articles. You can see samples of my work at www.JohnNFelsher.com or simply do an Internet search for my name.

Now, I want to hear your nauti story. While I might be the captain of our nautical word adventures, this former military man understands the chain of command and protocol.

Therefore, funnel all your ideas through the admiral, Kendra Maness, Editor and Publisher of Slidell Magazine. She’ll give me my sailing orders for future columns.

If you have an idea for a future Nauti People column, please contact Kendra at 985-789-0687 or editor@slidellmag.com.

Of course, some help with photos couldn’t hurt either.

So, are you ready to get nauti?

56th Edition.indd 27

27 2/24/2015 4:57:29 PM

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by Corey Hogue

the Super Bowl is over, the Saints were definitely not the ones to raise the Lombardi (you can’t see it, but I am wearing my sad face...WHY DREW WHY?!?!?), and it’s officially the “dead time” for many football fans. But, if you think football is gone for the whole spring and summer, then you haven’t truly seen the offseason in the NFL. Sure, once upon a time this time of year meant that football season might have been over for almost every football fan. But now, with the ability to get news by just about everything that plugs into the wall (and some things that don’t even need to be), the NFL has upped their game (pun intended) and the offseason is abundant and is at our fingertips. And the NFL knows it. They want you interested, want you scouring ESPN, The Advocate, The Times Picayune, and Jockularity (*waves* Hi!) for all of your sports needs. They recognize the ability to have football permeate your every-season, and they want to carpe the diem. Now there is more breaking news and analysis than ever

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before. We now know there is so much that happens after the season that, in fact, there is no offseason in the NFL for coaches, players, and the people who employ them. There is a timeline that happens from the moment the last whistle is blown to the moment the first one is blown. And it just so happens to be one of my favorite aspects of football. So sit tight, buckle up, grab some popcorn, and get ready to get excited for the offseason!

Before I even begin, understand that this whole process is cyclical and constant.

And overlapping. And stressful. It can be really hard on these guys, but that is what they get paid the big bucks for. After the last play is made on the regular season, owners decide what to do with the front office guys, the front office guys decide what they are going to do about coaches and players, and the coaches and players pray they are going to be around next season. There are many things that happen but, arguably, the first definitive sign of the offseason is Black Monday (not to be confused with Black Friday/

Cyber Monday that comes in November.)

Black Monday is the day following the final Sunday of the NFL season where coaches or front office personnel are fired or resign.

They don’t call it Black Monday for nothin, amIright? Thankfully, Saints fans didn’t have to worry about a coaching changeover because good ole’ Payton is here to stay for awhile. After the exodus of a coach and/or a general manager, a search begins for the next John Madden, Tony Dungy, or Sean Payton on the coaching side (or, if a team is looking for its next head-of-office, the next Mickey Loomis on the general manager side).

This can take time because coaches and coordinators on teams that are in a playoff situation can’t interview for or accept other jobs while in the playoffs.

After a team has its coach, they do small things, like hire the coordinators, scouting

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directors, things like that. Then there is the first chance for NFL teams to get a look at college seniors at an event appropriately named the Senior Bowl. This week-long event of workouts and practices culminates in a game between the “East” and the “West”. Then, of course, there is the drama and suspense of the playoffs. But don’t think players like Jimmy Graham, who are out of the playoffs, had to sit on the couch and endure it all. The Pro Bowl, which was in Arizona this year, pits the best players from the AFC and NFC who are not in the Super Bowl against each other. Exciting combinations like Drew Brees and Jordy Nelson allow us to see our “dream team” scenarios play out. Then, of course, there is the Super Bowl. The Big Game. The one for the Lombardi Trophy. This year, the Patriots escaped with a win just in the nick of time and Brady finally got his fourth ring.

A lot of the players in this game are playing for glory, history, and their next paycheck. If they are lucky, they may have the chance to command some serious money on the open market. Which brings me to the next, and very risky, step in offseason...Free Agency and the NFL Draft.

The next part of the offseason begins with something most players hate the most: franchising players. It can get complicated with the different designations but, for the most part, this means that for one player on almost every team, they will be guaranteed a one-year contract that equals the average of the top five salaries at that players position.

Jimmy Graham and Drew Brees have both been the victim of such a tag. Fortunately for them, the tag evolved into a lucrative contract, but not all players are so lucky. (Yeah, so unlucky to receive millions of dollars for the one year they have to stick it out on the team they played for last year. Sounds REALLY inconvenient). After that, the next part of the process begins with the NFL Scouting Combine, the “meat market” of the football world. College prospects have the chance to improve their draft stock by competing in a series of drills, workouts, mental tests, and interviews. It’s pretty straightforward: The guys who shine usually get drafted pretty high and the guys who don’t tend to fall a bit. The combine is not the only place guys have a chance to impress teams, though. Many prospects have workouts at their schools to give some teams an extra

56th Edition.indd 29

it is. After this three day event, there are workouts for the rookies with their new teams before the summer begins. Finally, after a summer full of training camp practices, the circle finally comes back around with the preseason, which leads to the first kickoff of the regular season. Phew! Where did the summer go!?

look. But really, after the combine, it’s a lot of schmoozing. These players eat out, a lot, when they go to meet with teams. And they talk big. But this part of the offseason has become such a big show.

Speaking of a big show, free agency starts in March. This is the chance for all of the NFL veterans to find their next paycheck.

Whether that is Joe Schmo that needs a new team or some big-time name that is looking for the big bucks. For example, last year we picked up Jairus Byrd for big time money while we let Malcolm Jenkins walk to the Eagles. This is where fans get a really good look at the decision-making process for teams. Last year, we let Darren Sproles walk, and that was really upsetting. But it was because we were looking at a guy like Brandin Cooks to take his spot. It can get really exciting...well, as much as can be exciting without actually throwing the football.

At the end of March, you have the Annual Meeting for the NFL owners. They talk about things like rule changes and such. Ho-hum.

Things slow down a bit, some deadlines come around, until finally we get to the “Super Bowl” of the NFL Offseason: The NFL Draft. This year it is in Chicago. There is so much hope for NFL hopefuls and so much speculation and rumor that leads up to the commissioner walking across the stage.

This is where I started loving the offseason.

So much can happen! This team is trading with that team and that team is trading up, only to trade down to pick up more picks and pick up the swift-footed wide receiver with a bad attitude problem. Of course, this is also the subject of my very first Jockularity, so you know how near and dear to my heart

The offseason is chock-a-block full of business and action. From finding out who is playing for whom, to deciding who is going to direct those players, to who is going to pay those players, the circus that is the offseason never sleeps. If you get into it, you could argue that more happens during the offseason than the onseason. And for the guys that work so hard at this time of year, the start of the season only switches the gears, never giving them a chance to rest.

This year, there is a new event to squeeze into the equation. For the first time, the NFL is instituting a veterans combine. This event, that takes place this month, gives the guys who aren’t the belles of the ball a chance to show they still have something left in the tank. And the addition of this event really encapsulates the whole spirit of the offseason. It’s a chance for a hopeful future, something exciting for the fans, and a chance for the NFL to make a few more bucks. But the addition of events will come and go, and we’ll stay tuned no matter what. In the end, we love it, because it beats having a world (or a few months) without football.

Don’t pack away the chicken wings and team-themed plates so soon...there is still plenty to cheer for with your favorite team in the coming months.

29 2/24/2015 4:57:34 PM

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Do you ever have one of “those days” as a parent?

PLEASE tell me you do.

It goes kinda like this…

You wake up. LATE. The kids are still asleep, the bus is long gone, and you have MAYBE fifteen minutes to make sure they are decent looking, fed, and to the school before the bell rings. Your heart is racing and y ou want to scream at them, even though you know it’s your own fault.

As you are running out the door with cereal baggies in hand, they ask, “Do I have a snack?” I don’t know!

DO YOU?!

You run back in, grab something from the dwindling snack supply and get it to them in the car in 10.5 seconds. In the meantime , the dog has gotten out.

You wait for his five minute urinating escapade and then throw him in the car with you.

“You were supposed to go over my spelling words for my test again this morning.” Of course I was. You have your child pull out the spelling list and giv e it to

their little sister to read off, so you can drive. But she decides to read it in a silly voice causing a fight between the two. Before you reach back to grab the paper from her, you go to set your coffee down and spill it on your shirt, reminding you that you didn’t have time to put a bra on. You DEFINITELY have to make the car line now! Can’t get out like this!

It stretches so far back that you feel completely defeated. You want to blame every car in front of you but then realize, hey, they are probably feeling the same thing. Maybe? The parents in the cars on the other side of the line are passing you with smiles on their faces because they made it before the bell.

You are envious.

The dog jumps in your lap, so you move him to the passenger seat, but not without spilling the rest of your coffee because it doesn’t quite fit into the cup holder. Do ANY coffee cups fit into the stupid cup holder?

One minute left! The kids are still fighting, you are hoping something doesn’t fall out of the car w hen they get out or that the dog doesn’t jump. You have created this horrible scenario in y our head and are already blaming yourself for every part of it.

You’re almost to the school! Glancing at the clock, you notice you have three minutes till the bell. Sitting up, tall and proud, wearing your coffee-stained, slightly torn, Supermom cape, you think to yourself… damn I’m good.

You’re almost there!

Then, suddenly, all of your progress comes to a complete halt because of three little words.

THE CAR LINE.

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The anxiety builds. Will we make it? You want to let them out bef ore reaching the 3 allotted spaces , but you CAN’T. You will get in trouble, they will get in trouble, and you will be teaching them to break the rules… Oh, but it’s soooo tempting.

FINALLY, rolling into the numbered space, you calm yourself enough to tell them to hav e a good day , but notice one of your children looks sick. Feeling his

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warm head, you tell him to stay, hold the dog as your other child opens the door, and yell “RUN LIKE THE WIND!” As you drive off, looking in the rear view, you see the teacher scolding her not to run, making you want to just take your cape and toss it out the window.

Everything gets quiet. You wonder if your kids think the worst of you. Telling yourself, they will remember THESE mornings and nothing else.

The teachers look at you in all your glory. No makeup, bed head, fuzzy Sesame Street slippers, and the flashing light coffee stain pointing to the fact that you are not wearing a bra.

So put your bra on (or not), spread your arms out to the side, let y our cape open up wide, and FLY! (Just make sure no one is watching because you might look a little crazy.)

As you stand there, looking frazzled, trying to deal with your special needs child who turns into the hulk without his meds, you just want to cry, and blame yourself for all of that too.

And when you see that person throwing theirs down and giving up... Pick it up for them, smile, and let them know that they are not alone.

TOTAL DEFEAT.

You get home, get your sick child some medicine, sad that he’s sick, but ha ppy that he won’t be failing his spelling test, pour another cup of cof fee and hope that the day gets better and you can redeem yourself.

WHY do these days happen? WHAT is it supposed to teach our children? Or teach us?

As you sit down, you get a text. It’s the teacher of your child who actually made the bus that morning.

Oh, sweet Jesus, this is never good.

Third, we all have bad days.

“He said he forgot to take his medicine and is having a REALLY BAD morning.”

You hop back in the car with medicine and Capri sun in hand.

Driving to the school, you’re not even thinking about your appearance. After all, y ou’re just gonna hop out and hop back in.

Oh nooooo, NOT TODAY! You WILL be walking the medicine TO his room ACROSS the school, past many people, where three teachers are waiting f or an impromptu conference.

56th Edition.indd 31

Well, first, don’t push snooze.

Second, don’t judge people by their appearance.

Are we supposed to crawl back in bed and wish the day away? No. Do we want to? Yes. Is it ok if we crawl back in bed for a little while? God, I hope so.

Yes, I chose to push snooze. There is a consequence to every action we make.

I also chose to have children, and EVERYTHING that comes along with that.

And NOW, I am choosing to deal with it the best way I know. To put my tattered cape back on, do the best I can, and help others not feel alone on their crappy days.

It’s all a choice.

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Remains of the Day I’ve used this space before to write about the decision-making process leading up to the euthanasia of a beloved pet. But it’s since occurred to me that what happens after an animal has been “put to sleep,” while admittedly not a glamorous topic, is nonetheless worth talking about. After the final goodbyes have been said and the family leaves, where do the remains of euthanized pets go, and what happens to them along the way?

The veterinarian’s first priority, after the final injection has been administered, is to confirm death, listening for a heartbeat with a stethoscope. Then there’s usually a short final visit, the family or pet owners sharing a few last minutes with their loved one (and often sharing hugs with the vet and staff).

Some euthanasias are unattended, the order having been given over the phone, or the owner just preferring not to witness the final moments.

Ideally, decisions for the sequence of events that happens next will have taken place before the euthanasia procedure. While many owners have specific intentions for the care of the body, some don’t know what to ask, or what options they even have. There

are typically three basic choices: taking the body home for burial; group or mass cremation; and private cremation.

For home burial, we prepare the body and help the owner load it into the car. Part of the preparation is removing any medical equipment, such as IV catheters, oxygen lines, EKG leads, etc. Many clinics have cardboard coffins for transport.

Sometimes, our technicians might draw a flower or bouquet on the casket, sign it with a good-bye message, or simply write the pet’s name with a flourish.

pet is especially large. Wild animals have been known to dig up shallow graves. And in some areas or subdivisions, home burial is not permitted. Despite all the challenges of an at-home burial, some pet owners wouldn’t have it any other way.

I understand the desire to take a deceased pet home, but like so many other things in life, reality rarely mirrors expectation. Home burial has a few drawbacks. It’s never pleasant to handle the remains of a pet, now literally dead weight. The job would be unpleasant for anyone, but the emotional and physical toll of burying a loved pet is too much for some people. Burial can be logistically difficult if the ground is hard or wet, or if the

Pet cremations are handled with dignity and compassion. It’s not an industry that tolerates slacking, rude jokes, or poor customer service. I’ve heard horror stories of lost remains (the industry term, taken from the human side, is ‘cremains,’ as in cremated remains, which strikes me as a bit trite and cutesy, but that’s just me), or of the wrong pet being returned to a distraught owner; but these are exceedingly rare exceptions.

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me)

I’ve never been involved in such a disastrous situation.

That’s partly because we make it a point to pay very close attention to detail at my office in these matters. It’s also because we are blessed in Slidell to have an excellent local pet crematorium. Unforgettable Pets is Slidell-owned, Slidell-operated. They’re one of the first two facilities in the country to be certified by the International Association of Pet Cemeteries and Crematoriums. This distinction means that they’ve met a rigorous set of criteria, and they operate by a strict set of standards. The great majority of their business comes through veterinary offices, but they do offer their services to the general public in cases where pets pass away at home.

There are essentially no mortuaries, morgues or coroners for pets; pet embalming and funerals are very rare. So why the disparity between how my pet is handled and how I’ll be handled when I die? Finances play a big role. People love their pets, but a pet funeral is a rare, even newsworthy event, while a human funeral is as commonplace as a wedding. People will often spend thousands to keep pets alive, but after they’re gone, it’s usually a quick and relatively inexpensive resolution.

Private (individual) cremations are labor-intensive and require accurate record-keeping to return ashes efficiently and avoid one of a veterinarian’s worst nightmares: misplaced ashes, or even worse, the group cremation of a pet whose owners had requested a private cremation. The paper trail and customized nature of a private cremation makes it a somewhat pricey option; most run anywhere from $150 to $300, depending on the size of the pet. Individual pets’ ashes are returned, usually to the veterinary hospital, in a simple metal urn so that the pet’s owner can keep them that way indefinitely, or remove them to be spread or buried.

Group cremations, when the pet owner doesn’t opt to have the ashes returned, are done en masse, meaning that several animals are cremated together at a time. At Unforgettable Pets, these group ashes aren’t just thrown out, but are spread on a privately-owned piece of property in nearby Mississippi. The entire process, for private or mass cremation, usually takes just one to three days.

None of this is pretty or pleasant. Most of us have an innate distaste for death in any form as it represents something we can’t quite get our heads around. But even though everything I’ve described may seem mechanical or detached or disrespectful or callous, veterinarians and veterinary technicians are some of the most caring professionals around. We do it to help people and to help pets; but it takes its toll on us. In almost 25 years of practice, I’ve performed well over 1000, and maybe over 2000 euthanasias. Compassion fatigue is common; we usually hide the details, only offering them up if asked.

Not every euthanasia affects us deeply (it couldn’t, or we wouldn’t be able to function) but we are moved each time we have to perform this service. We don’t take lightly our responsibility to the family who brought us an awkward puppy or kitten 15 years prior, and now returns when the years have taken their toll. It’s a difficult decision, but a necessary one, never taken lightly, and hopefully always made with the best interests of patient and owner in mind.

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33 56th Edition.indd 33

2/24/2015 4:57:41 PM

Go Beyond In a continuing quest to develop comfort in uncomfortable situations, I recently faced another one of those moments that make me realize that perhaps the best thing I’ve got going for me is the willingness to make a fool out of myself.

You see, although I prescribe to the adage that one should “dance like there’s nobody watching,” it’s kind of different when you realize there’s over 15,000 people watching and you’re supposed to perform a two minute synchronized dance routine with about fifty other fifty-plus-year olds – complete with hip hop moves and booty shaking – with cameras and a jumbo-tron and lots of screaming going on.

Yes, I was definitely going beyond my comfort zone last month when I took up my friend

Luzette Pecoraro’s challenge to join in a Pelican’s Senior Dance Clinic and perform at half time at a Pelican’s home game.

We had two Saturday afternoon rehearsals at Elmood Fitness Club, and one chance to practice on the court of the Smoothie King Center before the game.

In the seconds before the second quarter ended, we lined up in the tunnel – that nowoman’s land that leads to the Pelican’s basketball court – and all I could think, to keep from freaking out, was... in less than five minutes this will all be over. I promised myself I’d never put myself in this position again.

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waited in varying degrees of excitement. We had practiced our routine together enough times to know it backwards and forwards, but who knew what would happen when the moment of truth arrived?

One of my fall-backs, when I’m in the public eye, is nearsightedness. You know they say you should imagine your audience naked so you won’t get nervous? Well, I think a naked audience would make me even more nervous; but, without my glasses, the audience is a nice soft blur and I can pretend there’s really no one there.

In a snaking line in the front and back of me, dancing newbies and seasoned troupers

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I took a deep breath, called upon the spirits of my dancing role models, and kept my head down waiting for the cue that would send me dancing.

Ah, my dancing role models – those people in my life that have made me think I have more rhythm than God really gave me.

First and foremost is my mom, Julia DiGiovanni.

This 88 year old can put any one on the dance floor to shame. Mom always says even if you’re down, all you have to do is feel the music and your mood is lifted. She and I once took ballroom dancing lessons together, and she was more beautiful than any other dancer on the floor. So, I thought about her spirit as we awaited our musical cue.

My niece, Tammy Rumore Fielder, is my next role model, and she stood right on side of me during the Pelican’s Dance Clinic.

Tammy used to be on the stylish Chalmette High School Charmer’s Dance Team, and she coached me through moves that were way beyond my limited booty-shaking ability.

The woman can move, I tell you.

But my all-time favorite role models of precision dance team movements are that group of ordinary men doing extra-ordinary moves who call themselves the 610 Stompers. If anyone, anywhere, ever exemplified the freedom to perform a crowd-pleasing dance routine, it’s the Stompers. I have admired them since they made their debut at the Buddy D parade, and it was their no-holds barred attitude that kept me on the Pelican team.

Because, believe me, it took a lot of gumption to go through with it.

First time I considered chickening out, I mean sitting it out, was the night before our first rehearsal when I got a text that my friend, Suzanne, couldn’t go because she’d hurt her knee. She urged me to find someone else to fill her spot – so I called Tammy (who is a few years younger than the age range of the team flyer specified, but we’re not telling).

Tammy and I caught up on family chit chat as we drove to Elmwood, and I almost forgot what we were going there for. That is, until we entered the room with mirrors and started chatting with the other men and women assembled.

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Suddenly, I began to think in terms of where to stand, how to remember steps, and I got so flustered I didn’t know my right from my left.

When the instructors called for us to line up, I followed Tammy to the front line, thinking that was a good thing because then I could see the instructor better without my glasses.

After they went over about five moves in a row – moves that were not repetitive, mind you, but EXTREMELY COMPLICATED (to me) – the instructor made five lines of ten dancers, and I suddenly realized that Tammy and I were in the front line of the pack. The Front Line! Whoa, I turned around and begged to switch places with people in the middle of the pack. Tammy assured me that we didn’t want to be in the middle – more people notice you in the middle, she said.

In no way did I believe that, but I realized I was beginning to whine a bit.

So, we go through those EXTREMELY COMPLICATED moves a few more times, added music, and I thought, maybe I can do this, when the instructor said, “Okay, now we’re going to learn the next steps.”

What? Next steps? We weren’t just going to repeat those steps several times until the music was over?

“Nanny, you’re complaining again,” Tammy said.

next rehearsal. I considered wearing a black wig for the performance so no one would know it was me. I apologized to the women who stood around me and told them, under no circumstances, to watch what I was doing because I’d throw them off.

I tried to remember the sequence of moves using mneumonic devices – Bend Down, Hitchhike, Grapevine, Turn – but not only was that not an acronym for anything, it took too long to think of while dancing.

And forget doing the hand/arm movments that went with each step. I figured if I could get the basic robotic movements down pat, the actual ability to look like I was dancing would flow.

“You’re in your head too much, Nanny,” Tammy said. “We got this.”

And bless her heart, she turned out to be the best coach I could have had. We started making up a story about the moves, so that my literal brain had something to follow until muscle memory kicked in (if ever.)

Grapevine became running away from an ex-boyfriend; the hitchhike move was telling him to take a leap. We had a whole story during one sequence about Forest Gump running to his wife Jenny that made no sense but helped me remember the moves.

Well, that went on for two hours. The leaders would add moves that challenged my limited capacity for retention. I can do a grapevine and box step. Did I really have to try to imitate a Michael Jackson move?

The Roger Rabbit? Really?

We learned a minute and twenty seconds of the two minute dance by the end of that first rehearsal. I thought I saw a ray of light…until the instructor dropped this bomb.

By the time we took our first break in rehearsal, I was defeated. I have no dance school background, and flunked out of basic country line dance exercise classes at the gym. I considered not coming back for the

I have a theory about dance moves and generations. No matter how good of a dancer you might be, your basic free styling moves originate in the era you learned to dance as a teenager. My sister will always look like she’s doing the twist, my Mom will always be jitterbugging, and my moves will always consist of arm waving hippie stuff. It’s just how it is.

“

Nobody cares if you can’t dance well.

Just get up and dance.

Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion.

Martha Graham

“

on

But, in this case, it was hard to deny. From the moment we lined up in formation on the court, the roar of the crowd unmistakably let me know that there was life beyond the perimeter of my vision.

“Next week, we’ll learn the Hip Hop part.”

Hip hop is in no way going to look natural to someone like me, and that’s that.

Best I could hope for is to be aiming in the same general direction as the rest of the group.

My cheerleader, Tammy, kept saying, “You got this, Nanny,” when so obviously I didn’t. Every time I thought I did, my eyes would fall on someone who missed a step and I’d be lost.

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By the next weekend I’d managed to get sinusitis, and went to rehearsal fully fortified with all the pharmaceuticals that the local clinic could prescribe.

I learned the final forty seconds of hip hop madness, and was barely breathing by the end of the rehearsal. The Pelicans sent us an email with the leaders showing the dance so we could go over it at home. And go over it I did, over and over and over again, making the same mistakes in the same places each time. Augh!

On the day of the performance, I stuffed my pockets with my inhaler, throat lozenges and Kleenex. We got to the Center early, and had time to line up and practice on the court before the players warmed up.

And you know what? I managed to get through the on-court rehearsal pretty well. Oh, I messed up a couple of times, but I didn’t freeze like in my nightmares. I began to wonder if maybe I could get through the whole thing without going in the opposite direction even one time.

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We were shepherded to a meeting room, where Tammy organized an impromptu rehearsal. For the first time, I found myself enjoying the camaraderie and getting to know some of the other women. One of them is a 74 year old cutie named JoAnne, who embodied the spirit of this Senior Dance Team. She had on gold-sequined shoes and was light from within, and reminded me of my mom.

We danced, talked and laughed away the time until that moment when we were called to line up in the tunnel. Oh, well, I thought, even if I make a fool out of myself, I’ll have a story to tell.

We lined up on the court to thunderous applause and stood still as we waited for our music. I called upon the spirit of my mom, the Charmers and the 610 Stompers, and then proceeded to mess up the first combination. But, as I looked to my left and right and saw the other ladies dancing their little senior hearts out, I laughed out loud at myself.

Everybody was having the time of their lives – the dancers and the crowd. It wasn’t the nice soft blur of nearsightedness that got me through, but more of a series of rapid fire moments that were beyond reality.

Tammy flinging her long hair. JoAnne stepping like a Rockette. A flash of myself on the JumboTron. Big smiles from everyone in my focus. The dreaded hip hop moves and then it was all over.

10

Although I can’t say I was comfortable in the uncomfortable situation of dancing on the team, I found out that making a few missteps wasn’t such a big deal after all.

When you give yourself permission to just dance, it’s like everyone is dancing with you.

And that’s a pretty comfortable place to be.

H 36 56th Edition.indd 36

2/24/2015 4:57:44 PM

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and a top recommendation of the owner, is the Turkey Melt. It’s turkey, swiss, lettuce, tomato, avocado and a chipotle mayo on jalapeno bread.

You can order turkey, ham, tuna, chicken and steak on what is definitely a candidate for Best Sandwich in Slidell. Definitely add a cup of soup. We tried the roasted vegetable and shrimp and corn bisque.

Tucked away behind the Front Street Starbucks, Counter Culture is a hidden spot, inconspicuous and perhaps, by many, overlooked. Don’t make that mistake. It’s easily one of the best lunches in Slidell.

When owner Scott Pugh discovered the original Counter Culture in Shreveport, he thought it’s varied mix of frozen yogurt, sandwiches, soups and salads would be of interest to diners in his hometown.

According to Scott, one of the motivating factors was his desire to bring a fresh, healthy menu as an alternative to the fast food that dominates the area.

We tried the ham and cheese first. Served on french bread, it was very good. If you like a basic ham sandwich, this one will do just fine.

The standout sandwiches at Counter Culture are their “hot melts.” My favorite,

If you can fit it, you should try the yogurt.

Counter Culture’s signature dessert is “The Humphrey.” It’s your choice of yogurt with fruit, granola and honey.

Take advantage of the drive-thru and treat your family to a very logical alternative to typical fast food. Open 7 days a week.

Formerly a PJ’s Coffee shop, it’s a comfortable atmosphere. Hanging on the walls are the works of local artists. You can catch live music Thursday nights too.

Most of Counter Culture’s branding focuses on their yogurt, which is a disservice to their sandwiches. Theirs are some of the best in town. Someone in Shreveport obviously took some time to develop these taste combinations and it shows.

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Our Founding Businesses LET’S GO SHOPPING 60’s - 70’s STYLE Prelude: Back in my childhood days, there weren’t any giant shopping centers and malls like we have today. We did have a few strip malls, but nothing like we have today. Box stores like Target, Toy’s R Us, and Best Buy were just a dream. Some fifty years later, I would learn that those dreams were really nightmares, meaning simpler shopping is gone forever. Come to think of it, why would we even need a Best Buy in 1960’s? About the only electronics that were available were the radio, black and white TV, and the all-popular record player. Stores back in the day were not diversified as they are today. For the most part, they were specialized stores. For example, if we needed shoes, we would go to a shoe store. That would

likely be Buckley’s Shoe Store or Giordano’s Shoe Store. If we ever needed our shoes repaired or shined, we would go to see the Sole Saver, aka Naulty’s Shoe Repair Shop. If we needed nails, hammers, plumbing supplies, lumber, and any other hardware supplies, we would go see Mr. Shine or Mrs. Ferrara at Mire’s Hardware.

a great conversation at the dinner table? Tell a story of what it was like to do business with a full-service, old-fashioned, filling station. All of these places I just mentioned are considered to be specialty stores and they ain’t here no more, except for Naulty’s and Rice’s - they’re the lone survivors.

When our TV acted up, we would bring it to Mr. Stanley or he would come to the house with a suitcase of tubes, resistors, and capacitors and fix it. If we needed medicine, we would go to G&W Drugs or Cusimano’s Drug Store (and at some point you went to K&B). If we needed gas, we went to a full service gas station. For me, I would go see Mrs. Rice. You know what would make

Instead, we can go to one store and get a TV, shoes, clothes, any type of appliance known to man, medicine, hardware, new eye glasses, get your taxes done, get your hair done, buy gas, do your banking, get your garden supplies, get your weekly groceries, buy tires for your car, and in some cases, even see a nurse. At the rate things are changing, I wonder in the near

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future if we will be able to buy a new car, plan our funeral, and go to church at Wal-mart. Don’t laugh, you know darn well it’s coming. I can see the sign now: Welcome to Wal-mart: Save Money - Live Better - Save Your Soul - Die Cheaper.

The Shoe Mafia Enough of that, let’s go shoe shopping in downtown Slidell. It was a summer day in the late 60’s or early 70’s. I was considered a young teenager by most. A young man by my account. I was just 15-16 years old and I was beginning to take notice of my appearance. I wanted at least one nice pair of shoes, a pair of nice pants, a cool shirt, a bottle of High Karate, and wear long hair (which never happened). I wanted to look sharp when I went to the movies, in case I got lucky. (“Lucky” meaning going with a girl instead of my little brother.) My favorite place to go for my shoes would be Giordano’s or Buckley’s.

These two shoe stores and Naulty’s were one big family. For lack of better terms, they were the Mafia of the shoe business in Slidell. So, no matter where I bought my shoes, it was kept in the family. I mostly preferred Giordano’s for a few reasons. Mr. Nunzio was pretty cool and his son Bobby was a close friend. Not to mention they had the best dress shoes in town. However, I bought my tennis shoes from Mr. Buckley. He was the king of Ked’s.

During this time, several different types of shoes were in style. The Penny Loafer was my choice.

Others were the Monk strapped shoe, which had a buckle on one side of the shoe. The suede shoe was worn by a lot of older men. The two-tone shoe was popular, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in them. When it came to tennis shoes, I was a Ked kid. Black high tops, for sure. I think Keds had slip-ons but they were mostly worn by hippies and old folks who couldn’t reach their feet, kind of like I am today.

It was one of those occasions where my mom allowed me to go alone to get a pair of dress shoes. My mom, like all moms, had pet peeves.

One of them was that we take a bath, put on clean clothes, and you damn sure better not leave the house with holes in your socks. I don’t know about the rest of you in my generation, but holes in my socks were a constant thing. I don’t know what she was thinking because most of my jeans had holes in the knees as well. I had more patches on my jeans than I had on my bike tires. Besides, in the 60’s and 70’s, that was a fashion statement.

Anyway, I cleaned myself up and went to see Mr. Nunzio. I walked in and told him I wanted a pair of burgundy Penny Loafers. Just as I sat down to try on my new shoes, good ole mom walked in. I knew it was too good to be true. She was happy with the shoes I had picked out, but that changed when Mr. Nunzio took my shoes off. Not only did I have a big hole in one sock, they were mismatched as well. Both were black,

56th Edition.indd 39

but noticeably different styled socks. She had that look on her face - all of us Dunaway kids knew that was not good.

When I got home, she raised all sorts of hell, mainly because the bottoms of my feet weren’t that clean either. So I told her that if Sandy and Patty (my two sisters) knew how to mop a little better, my feet wouldn’t be dirty.

I wish I would have kept my mouth shut. Everyday for a month, Mom made me sweep and mop the house - whether it needed it or not. To this day, I still have holes in my socks, but no more patches on my jeans. Things are looking up these days.

Mire’s Hardware There is nothing like an old-fashioned hardware store and Slidell was blessed to have one of the very best for many, many years. I’m talking about one of my favorite stores, Mire’s Hardware Store. Mire’s originally opened in 1916 but I’m going to talk about it from a 1968 point of view.

The store itself is almost as old as Slidell and, for the most part, it still looks the same today.

I mean this in a good way. Even today, Mire’s architecture is perfect for Olde Towne. Thank God its appearance is much like it was in the early 1900’s. I have a lot of great memories of this place, so I’m going to start with the two people who I remember the most. I don’t think there was a hardware question in the world that Mr. Mire (Mr. Shine) could not answer. There was nothing in that store that he couldn’t explain to you. I know first-hand because I put him to the test one day. I brought him a sketch of a gocart I wanted to build. I had four wheels off of an old lawn mower and a seat from an old boat, but that’s all I had. So I went to see Mr. Mire for some pointers.

I showed him the sketch and, without hesitation, he said, “We can do this. I got everything you need.” Not only did he gather up all the parts, he also threaded the rods that would become the axles. You can try all you want but you won’t get this kind of service at today’s home centers.

Now let me introduce you to Mrs. Ferrara. She was working at Mire’s for as along as I can remember. As soon as you walked in the door, you would likely find Mrs. Ferrara sitting on her throne - a big wooden chair that was mounted on a large wooden platform. She perched herself up there like she was the Queen of England. In the back of the store, there was a wall full of cabinets with hundreds of small drawers. Mrs. Ferrara knew what was in each drawer. She also had a wealth of knowledge and could tell you how to fix anything. Now, unlike the hardware

stores today, you could walk in Mire’s and buy a handful of American-made nails and screws from a bucket, instead of a plastic boxful made in China. Loose nails were measured by the term “penny”. You would tell Mrs. Ferrara you needed a half-pound of 3 penny or 8 penny nails. Go to Lowes and ask for a penny nail and they will look at you like you are crazy.

Mire’s also had the best ice cream and candy in town. My favorite ice cream was a push up. I’ll tell you something that will be hard for you to believe, but I swear it is the truth. Mire’s sold coin suckers. You could buy a sucker similar to a tootsie roll pop, but square instead of round.

It actually had real coins in the sucker. It cost a nickel and you could win coins ranging from a nickel to a quarter. Only in the 60’s would you find such a candy.

Nettie’s Corner The year was 1969-1970. I just got my driver’s license and I was ready to rumble.

My dad gave me $300 to buy a car so I could get back and forth to work. Remember, this was the decade that produced such icons as the Dodge Roadrunner, the GTO, and many more popular muscle cars. What did I buy? A 1969 red VW Beetle. I loved it. He hated it. Not that I didn’t try getting a muscle car, but my dad wouldn’t even consider it.

The only thing I didn’t like in 1969 was my pay.

Even though I was very grateful for the money my dad gave me, I still had to pay the car note. ($80 per month. Can you believe that?) I also had to maintain the car and buy gas. That was hard to do on a $200 monthly pay check. Once I got on the official payroll at the market, all my entitlements as a Dunaway kid ceased. I was officially, financially, on my own. After paying the car note, insurance, and other expenses, I never had enough money for gas. That brings me to my third business in this series - please meet Mrs. Nettie Rice, owner of Rice’s Service Station. Mrs. Nettie was a woman of kindness, strong work ethic, and determination. When her husband died, she was left to raise four children and a service station to operate. Even though her two sons were instrumental in helping run the 39 2/24/2015 4:57:51 PM

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business, Mrs. Nettie carried most of the burden. She had a lot to worry about, but she never let it take her down. Just about when things were going as well as expected, the state decided to widen Fremaux Ave. When they did this, she lost her gas pumps and most of her parking. Most people thought that would be the end of an era. Instead of being upset and angry, she shrugged her shoulders and said she will do just fine fixing flats and selling brake stickers. When construction started on the highway, Mrs. Nettie would cook hot meals and feed some of the highway workers. Not just one day, but EVERYDAY, and that offer went for anyone who walked in hungry. She actually ran a free soup kitchen just inside the service bay. If all this wasn’t enough to do, she also rode a school bus as an aid and donated her pay to her church. Oh no, it doesn’t stop there. Every Sunday morning she would go to the nursing home and take as many residents as she could get into her car and bring them to church. At the end of the day, Mrs. Nettie went home and took care of two friends who no longer could take care of themselves. All of this and she NEVER missed a day of work.

I don’t know what I would have done without her. She knew who I was because her son, Wayne, and I went to school together.

This made it a little easier for me to ask for a small line of credit.

Gas was around 30¢ per gallon and it cost about $6 to fill up. Of course, she gave me the line of credit and I was able to keep gas in the car without me having to beg for money.

Mrs. Nettie’s personality and great service made Rice’s one of Slidell’s most popular gas stations in town. She would pump your gas and clean your windshield, front and back. She would check your oil and your tires. If you needed oil, no need to worry, because she would do that too. She loved talking to her customers while she serviced their cars. I remember one day, it was raining hard and I was running on fumes and prayers. I really believed the wind pushed me the last few feet. I quickly got out and asked Mrs. Nettie to wait for it to stop raining. Before I knew it, she had put on a yellow rain coat with a matching hat and was pumping my gas. Mrs. Rice was always a busy woman. In between pullup customers, tires were repaired, spark plugs were changed, oil was changed, and other minor auto maintenance took place in the bay. As the years passed, full-service filling stations faded away to self-service convienence stores. At least one thing has never changed. Every time I passed Rice’s station during the 60’s and 70’s, I would blow my horn at Mrs. Nettie. Mrs. Nettie died August 29, 1991. Today, Mrs. Nettie’s son Kenny runs the business as Rice’s Inspection Station. Some 45 years later, when I pass the station, I blow my horn at Kenny in memory of his mom. And her generosity lives on. When Kenny travels to the Cajun country, he brings me back Cajun food. Rice’s Service Station is located at the corner of Third St. and Fremaux Ave. That corner will always be remembered as “Nettie’s Corner.”

Thanks to Slidell Museum, GOSH, my friends: Bonnie Vanney, Adrian Innerarity. Thanks to Kenny Rice for pictures. A special thanks to Kay Warden, who was Mrs. Nettie’s neighbor for many years. Some of this content came from an article she wrote years ago.

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