Slidell Magazine - 65th Edition by Slidell Magazine

THE OFFICIAL MAGAZINE OF SLIDELL

Vol. 65 December 2015

WE KEEP IT FRESH

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Editor’s Letter

Kendra Maness, Editor/Publisher, Slidell Magazine

do it? How many authors do you know? I’m a publisher, and I don’t know any. For over four years, John Case has entertained me and the Slidell Magazine readers with his monthly stories. For just about the same amount of time, I’ve BEGGED John to publish this collection. It took a long time to make it happen, but HE FINALLY DID IT! Maybe he just wanted to stop my nagging!

The picture above is of John Case, The Storyteller. It’s my favorite photo of him. Not because of the way he looks, or the setting, and not even because I snapped the picture. It’s my favorite because of the name we labeled the image in our computer files, “Official Author’s Photo”.

Publishing a book is not easy, as we found out. There are lots of logistics and moving parts, far beyond telling the tales. Probably the hardest part for John was overcoming the self doubt that all artists seem to have when they have a spotlight on their work. The hardest part for me was convincing him that the book would be a success.

RITAGE

At some time or another, everybody thinks they are going to write a book. Whether it be stories they’ve heard or told, an advice book, an autobiography, or a children’s story. I’ve heard it dozens of times, and have even had the thought myself. But, how many people really

PO Box 4147 • Slidell, LA 70459

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

Devin Reeson - Graphic Designer Graphics@SlidellMag.com

Illustrations by: Zac McGovern www.HalMundane.com Contributing Writers EFOP, Charlotte Lowry Collins The Storyteller, John Case 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 Making Cents of Your Money, Mike Rich MikeRich@MyPontchartrain.com Go Beyond, Rose Marie Sand Rose@RoseMarieSand.com Donna Bush Donna.Bush@yahoo.com

KEITH DELLSPERGER Born in New Orleans and raised in Metairie, Keith Dellsperger has been a resident of Slidell for 11 years now, and loves his “small town”. He’s always loved to draw, so at age 12, his mother enrolled him in the David School of Art, as Keith says, “to keep me out of trouble.” This foundation led him to take art classes all 4 years of High School at East Jefferson High. After graduation, he attended Delgado College for Commercial Arts with a minor in fine arts.

PARK,

FOOD John considers himself a “writer”, although he’s far too humble to admit that he is a GREAT writer. With the release of his first book, it’s official John is an author. And I will say what he never will - John is a GREAT author.

Cover Artist

The first shipment of books arrived and John stood outside of his car, loading box after box into the back of mine. Within minutes, a crowd had gathered around us, cash and checks in hand, vying for position to get the first copies of his book and his signature. It makes me giggle now as I remember that day. I love being right. Congratulations my wonderful Storyteller.

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His first job was with a photo processing laboratory where he restored old photographs with airbrushing and photographic techniques. During this time, he also pursued his fine arts career. Due to the demands of a growing family, he chose a trade to pay bills, always knowing that one day he would return to his art. After 28 years of storing his brushes and pens, he returned to his art career in 2007. Lucky for us, he’s never looked back! He refreshed his skills and technique at New Orleans Academy of Fine Arts and through workshops. Keith says, “I hope the public appreciates my art because I love doing it. It took such a long time to come full circle. Slidell has been great, I love living here!”

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DECEMBER 2015

Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” People Sponsored by

Captain Jim Lamarque The spirit of Christmas is the spirit of love and of generosity and of goodness. It illuminates the picture window of the soul, and we look out upon the world’s busy life and become more interested in people than in things.

by Charlotte Lowry Collins

~ Thomas S. Monson

Jim Calvin Lamarque would agree with those of you who say Santa knows whether you’ve been bad or good. He described their family tradition for us, “As a child, all the relatives would come to our house or my grandfather’s in the same block. My parents, John Sr. and Joey Carr, always had a big Christmas planned for their three boys. I remember the year I got a live monkey that I named Cookie. He used to reach out of his cage to untie my aunt’s bows on her shoes. It was their ritual. She would tie them back, and Cookie would start all over,” he laughed. “We always had family over for a big lunch on Sundays, but on Christmas it was even bigger. John Jr. is the oldest, and Jeff is the youngest, but we all shared the same initials, JCL.”

After his kidnapping and release from 35 days of captivity in Columbia, Jim likes to say that Santa brought him purpose. Of course, every day of freedom is like a holiday. If you are lucky enough to visit his home and business, you will see what I mean. I arrived on the first cool day of Fall, and the smell of the lake greeted me as I opened my car door. Jim’s directions were easy, look for the three-tiered flagpole with three American flags. From the outside, his home looked like a standard home, except for the fact that it sits snugged up to his docks, facing the Rigolets Pass, known as ‘The Pass’. I stood in the warm sun and breathed in the panorama. Of course, I couldn’t help but notice that he was an LSU fan, as the storage building on his dock was painted purple and gold. Both his

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charter boat and his truck sport a Phil Galatas painting of the “Eye of the Tiger” next to his Circle J Charters logo. Because Captain Jim was just getting back from a fishing tour, he was still upstairs, but he left the door open for me. I was greeted by Jake, his Golden Retriever, who led me in. Jake is the closest member of Jim’s family, his constant companion. He goes EVERYWHERE with Jim, including all of his fishing trips, and is the mascot for Circle J Charters, occupying a prominent space on the insignia which adorns Jim’s truck and boat. My first step in the door was on the LSU themed tiles. Looking around, as my eyes adjusted from the intense sunlight, I discovered that his was anything but a standard home. All of the massive vertical support posts were hand painted, each with a unique lighthouse design, mainly from the Outer Banks. The interior was decorated with “Sportsman’s Paradise” memorabilia, and everywhere I looked were binoculars, fish, ducks, boats, and lighthouses. Clearly, the coast is this man’s life. Family photos and articles hung proudly alongside these items. As he came down the stairs in one yellow and one purple clog, I confirmed that LSU sports are also a major part of Jim’s life. While showing me around, the captain relayed that he and a friend, David Folse, built this house after Katrina brought 14.5 feet of water and a tornado, which wiped out his big house from this same location. Once we sat down and started talking, Jim revealed, “I loved the year I was Head Chef at the Mallard Manor duck lodge in Mississippi, and the year I spent Hurricane Katrina on the 65’ Hatteras I captained. For Katrina, we were at a hole in Mississippi on the Tchoutacabouffa River with a circle of boats. We lashed 150 boats together in order to save them.” Jim has lived on waterways around the world. “I’ve lived on the water in Honduras, Costa Rica and St. Thomas, and loved it. But this is home, no doubt about that! I remember those trips when Onesime Faciane would take some of his ‘old’ friends and me, a young boy of 15, fishing on the Joe Jack, his 83 foot converted Air-Sea Rescue ship, and we would go out to the barrier islands, Chandeleur Islands. I learned a lot about history listening to Dr. Folse, Buddy Howze, and Peggy O’Neil talk while they fished.” Jim chuckled as he remembered, “They told wonderful stories about

Huey Long and other colorful characters from this state. But I also loved hanging out at his restaurant, the White Kitchen, and seeing most of Slidell in there. A boy could learn a lot listening there too!” Then he grinned and his blue eyes sparkled as he relayed, “I was fortunate to live in the same block as my Grandmother, Olive Carr, and Grandfather, AE Carr Sr., who was then Vice-President of the Bank of Slidell, and we would walk to his bank. I grew up when Slidell only held about 6,000 people. Our city more than doubled in the next decade.” Jim brightened again as he explained, “I’m glad my brothers, nieces, nephews, and their children are still here. I’m lucky to be with so much family, and to have been here for my nephew when he was critically ill. I got to spend a lot of time with him throughout the process. Even through a lifetime of illness, he managed to live joyfully, caring about his family, friends, and caregivers. My nephew faced every obstacle with dignity and grace. He grew into such a brave young man and is truly my hero.” The Lamarques were a happy, close family, and still are to this day. They also shared family activities with the scouting community, and were very gregarious. Jim remembered fondly that in 1955 when he turned ten, his mother was named Woman of the Year, the same year he received Cub Scout of the Year. “This was life in small town Slidell. My dad was a boilermaker for a shipyard in New Orleans, travelling often to repair ships out of town. He was also Slidell’s first walking mailman. We all walked everywhere, to the

Jim, with Jake as always, works with the Wildlife & Fisheries Dept to teach children the art of fishing

Jitney Jungle, Sarraille’s, Western Auto, Giordano’s, Buckley’s, and McDaniel’s, where I got my very first suit. They always had cookies for me at McDaniel’s General Store. I remember when First Baptist Church was across from Carolla’s Grocery, which is now KY’s. I would slip out of church with my stomach growling, in search of cheese, and my Mom knew exactly where to find me. Slidell has seen a lot of changes. All the old family stores are gone now, after the box stores and malls moved in. But now, everyone wants to revive it. I think that our area is a great place for young people, and there are a lot of opportunities for them. When we would come back from a trip to New Orleans on Highway 11, we always knew we were home, even if we were asleep. As we hit the bridge, the temperature dropped and the air smelled like pine. There’s just no place like it.” “Back then, we were allowed to play in the streets until late at night in the summer,” he said. He added, “But when the 10:10 train blew its whistle at night, you’d better be home. I learned that the hard way, but it took more than once!” “Everybody knew each other back in those days, and parents looked out for each other’s kids.” He looks at me and smiles, “Your sister, Brenda, and I went to Senior Prom together. My Aunt Evella Carr held Girl Scout meetings at your old home on Old Spanish Trail when you were just a baby.” I remembered with a pang of guilt trying to follow him and Brenda around, being the tag-along little sister. But they did such cool things! Sorry, Brenda! Jim’s day begins with the 4:30am news. Always aware of wind directions, tides, and weather in general, Jim plans his day of 7

showing customers the perfect spot for the particular day. Any day on the water is a great day to Jim.

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Jim received his Captain’s license in 1981. The testing is challenging and is given through the US Coast Guard. Captains are required to know in-depth about all of the buoys, lights, signals, vessel permissions, operations, weather and water patterns, and safety procedures. The tests are given according to the amount of tonage you will be operating. Jim received a 150-ton Masters license. (For all of us landlubbers, that’s a BIG boat!) “I usually ran about 50-60 tons, like a 65-foot Hatteras and Vikings up to 70-foot. I used to make deliveries for the Hatteras Yacht Company.” It all sounded ideal, but I had a feeling some of the charter captain’s adventures must have been treacherous. When I asked if this was true, Jim’s expression grew serious. He nodded and paused before letting loose the story that many of us Slidellians followed anxiously, some 22 years ago. “On February 6, 1993, I was kidnapped in Venezuela by a drug cartel. I was bringing four other Slidellians, Wayne Ciko, Bob Weiss, Kirk Pichon, and Joe Ponson on a fishing trip there. We were just ending a perfect time. The plane was landing to bring us home and we were loading up. Five armed men swarmed us with guns and grenades, and started shooting automatic weapons in the air. We were all put on the plane, but there was too much weight. They made my buddies back out of the plane so they could commandeer it. They pointed a gun muzzle in my face and forced me to stay, along with the camp owner and the pilot.” Jim has a difficult time speaking about his kidnapping even now, but with urging, he continued, “After they took us, we landed in a jungle where they had stashed barrels of fuel. It was an outpost with heavy communications. One of Pablo Escobar’s outposts. It was all very well-planned out.” What Jim did not know until later, was that this was the fifth plane that had been taken in only 6 months from that area. “All of the others were tourists. They didn’t kidnap them, they just took the plane so they could run drugs or weapons. We had no idea the danger, we had no warning. I felt terrible for all of the guys. I’m the captain, so I figured if anyone was going to be on that plane, it should be me.” After refueling the plane, the kidnappers forced the pilot to fly all of them to another location, where they landed in a dirtfield and walked them into the jungle. “At dark, they moved us to a river and put us in a boat and we went up the river to stay the night. The next morning, we moved to another camp.” This began a 35-day stay in the jungle, where Jim subsisting mainly on popcorn, rice and fish. In total, the kidnappers moved them 10 times, blind-folding the captives and putting them in the bottom of the boat, sometimes covering them with tarps. “For about two weeks, I didn’t know why they were holding us. They took a camp radio and were talking to the other camp owner for ransom money. I figured that’s what it was.” The gunmen would tell Jim, ‘You get this, (rubbing their fingers together as a sign of money) you go home. You don’t get this, you don’t go home.’

“It seemed like an eternity, and we knew our kidnappers were growing tired of feeding us. I’m sure it seemed like an eternity for my family and friends, who were trying desperately to raise the ransom money.” The kidnapping made international news, and brought the Slidell community even closer to the well-known and loved Lamarque family. It was a harrowing time for Jim, but he never doubted that his close-knit family was doing everything they could to bring hime home safely. “Thanks to them, a $150,000 ransom was posted, which secured my release.” “After I came back on March 12, I wanted to do something for others. So I started speaking at schools about drugs and the reality no one thinks about. The late Gerry Hinton who was then State Senator asked me to speak to the Senate and House of Representatives. He warned me that they probably would not be able to sit and listen, as they are distracted by legislative matters coming and going from their desks. But while I spoke about my experience with drug dealers, you could have heard a pin drop,” he said. So, since this is almost Christmas, let’s get back to when Captain Jim met Santa. Jim let out a deep laugh, releasing the tension, and for a moment, I felt like I was seeing Santa before my eyes. Here is his account, “On a cold, crisp night, Santa came to visit. Most people don’t know that Santa has a globe that glows when there is big trouble. He always watches, and sends wishes that way. That is how Santa found me and knew I needed something to take my mind off the ordeal.” Jim continues his Christmas story, “He asked me to take him fishing. Bet you didn’t know Santa loves speckled trout and redfish! After we both relaxed to the sound of water lapping at our boat, and the sun warming our backs, he got an idea. To my surprise, Santa asked me if I would consider being his helper. Of course I said yes! This was just what I needed, and gave me something to look forward to. So I got a magic spell from the elves, and I become Santa for a day, while Santa takes care of the toy making. All the conversations with the kids are magically absorbed by Santa, while he continues to work. He listens, and he also helps me answer them. I can remember all that is said, but it’s like a dream. I put on a fake beard, but when Santa turned me into his helper, the beard became real that day.” Now the Captain reached up and stroked his long, white beard again. “Finally, Santa asked me to grow this beard year round, and I have a feeling he helped me grow such a full one.” He laughed heartily again and remembered, “When those kids yanked on it, you should have seen their eyes grow wide! Did you know Santa will actually feel that?” Jim has played Santa at locations throughout Slidell, including Florida Avenue Elementary and Griffith Park for Christmas Under the Stars. The experience has been cathartic. “It is so much fun for me that I offered to help every year. There are those kids that don’t want anything for themselves, but ask simply to help get their parents back together. I remember a deaf child that I promised I would learn how to use sign language with my hands the next year, and I kept my promise! I’m always a little sad when Christmas is over, as I get attached to the kids.” 9

As we soaked in the warm, salty air from the lake, I mentioned the sighting of a manatee in Bayou Liberty. Jim looked out toward the Pass and thought back again. “You know, I used to swim in the lake and see Manatees, we called them sea cows. Over the years, progress and filling in land for development changes things. Once it’s gone, it takes a lot of intervention to bring balance back to things after all this progress. Mississippi has so much agriculture that helps them to keep ducks all year round like corn, and soybean fields. We don’t have the habitat for quail any more. Slidell has lost so much of our wetlands, I can see it every year. It has come back a little since Katrina, but we have a long way to go. You have to keep on your toes, since things change so much. The deep holes silt in, and huge masses of our grasses are missing. The Western part of the state is doing diversions, but I don’t know what it will take here. Our marshes are still good and healthy in spite of the missing land,” he reassured me. I asked the Captain if he had a bucket list, and if you know Jim, you may know what his response was.

and I’m glad to see our lake coming back. It’s good and salty again by the Rigolets.” With that, the phone rang again. Of course, we had been frequently interrupted throughout our visit by urgent calls from fishermen trying to find the best spot in a hurry. Jim would ask what they saw around them, and talk them to the right area. They even called back to report how many of each species they caught. That’s better than any tracker apparatus ever invented! I felt fortunate to grab this time with him, as he has bookings for the next eleven days straight. As Jim’s fishing buddies showed up for advice, I knew it was time for me to leave this idyllic piece of paradise on the Rigolets for another piece of paradise at my home on the bayou. Jake saw me out and followed me to my car, watching as I waved goodbye. “Personally, I really want to start a Circle J trip early in Canada and follow the ducks all the way down to Louisiana. I would get outfitters in each place and hunt my way back with Jake in the truck.” Jim looked off toward the Pass and said, “I have a great life here. I love being with people,

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Storyteller The Best Christmas Present Ever My generation was the last one to suffer the pains of polio on a widespread basis in this country. There were two boys in my class that had polio, but it did not leave them severely handicapped. They contracted the disease before the vaccine was available. I remember the vaccine, and I remember the day that I was taken to get it. It was fun. Unlike all the other vaccines that required shots, this vaccine was administered on a sugar cube. I must have been nine or ten years old, and my grandparents took me to get it. They were in their 80s at the time and I remember the newspaper taking a picture of them getting theirs. My grandmother was a diabetic and she took hers on a piece of bread. This happened about the year that Tim Verges was born. His father, Waylon, worked for a large construction company, Brown and Root. He, his wife, Edna, and the children traveled with him all over the world, and it was said he made “big money”.

that it was a school day, and the principal would call her and remind her to bring the kids. It didn’t matter to us. As I said, she was a sweet lady and we liked her. Well, about that time, Waylon took a job in Venezuela. He referred to it as a three-year hitch and he promised his family that, after this one, they would not move again. With their small son, off they went. They were there about a year when Tim got sick, very sick. The doctors there could not make a definite diagnosis, and the company physicians advised them that they should bring the child back to the United States for treatment. Brown and Root sent their company plane. Edna was a sweet, nice lady, but she in some ways had some mental disabilities. Not severe disabilities, but noticeable. She had a hard time remembering things, like time and dates. Her older children were always late for school, but the officials knew the problem and overlooked it. They even helped her. At times, she would forget

After being admitted to Ochsner Hospital in New Orleans, it took less than a day for a confirmation. Tim had polio. How could this be? Had the vaccine failed? Was it a bad batch? When the authorities looked into it, they could not find that Timothy had ever received the preventative. Edna could not remember. She thought so, but was not sure.

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I remember that all the churches had special services praying for the life of this child. It must have worked, because he lived, but he would be crippled in his right leg. As he grew older, he would be fitted annually and sometimes twice a year with a larger brace and longer crutches. I remember how proud I was when I was a kid and needed bigger pants. He had the same pride in his brace and crutches. Other than this handicap, he was a normal, brighter-than-average kid. He never complained about his handicap, and his attitude made him a favorite with everyone. I was never a competitive athlete, but Jimmy Townsend was. I played front yard football on some afternoons with him and others and, when they chose teams, I was always the last one picked. Our fan base was young Tim Verges. He would stand on the side and watch every play. He cheered for everyone, but somehow I think he related to me. Maybe he realized that, athletically, I was handicapped too. I remember one day actually catching a pass and rolling to the ground just at his feet. I heard him cheer as if I had scored a touchdown.

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In those days, if you played competitive football, or any other sport for that matter, your development was limited to what you learned on the practice field. There were no weight rooms, trainers, or fancy gym equipment. At least, there was not any at our school. You went to practice, and then you forgot about it until the next day, and you practiced again. Jimmy wanted to be better than that. He was willing to do whatever it took to make him the best. In a comic book, he saw an advertisement for a Charles Atlas Dynamic Tension Training Course. He bought the course, and, as best I remember, it had some equipment that came with it. I do not remember if this was part of the equipment that came with the Charles Atlas order, but he had a spring tension device that you could work out most any muscle group. You could change the tension by adding more springs. This was his favorite piece of equipment. He also changed his diet. He ate three raw eggs every day, and other things that I don’t remember. Whatever he did, he had the ability to stick to it and it paid off. When fall football season rolled around, Jimmy was a sophomore. The previous year he had played, and played well, but as a backup receiver. This year, he was twenty pounds heavier and it was all muscle. He was switched to tight end. In a few days, he was

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practicing both ways, offense and defense. On defense he was a linebacker. The coaches knew they had a star. In high school, being kind and caring is not an attribute common to males, it is more of a female thing. But Jimmy was different. He took Timothy under his wing. Every day, he made sure that Tim got to practice, because he knew Tim enjoyed watching the kids that could do things he could not. Jimmy even arranged for Timothy to go on some game trips with the team. He was sort of the team mascot, but Jimmy made sure it was not a demeaning experience. After the season was over, Jimmy got a car. Not a good one, but a car. He worked on it more than he drove it, and I helped him. One Saturday afternoon, we were cleaning the carburetor, and we saw Timothy coming toward us on his crutches. Jimmy watched him as he hobbled down the sidewalk. Jimmy wiped the grease from his hands as Timothy came closer. Then he turned to me. I will never forget it. Almost under his breath, he said, “I am tired of this kid having to live like that.” “Tim, come with me.” With that said, Tim’s smile could be seen from one hundred feet away. The three of us went into a converted garage that served as Jimmy’s training room. “Timmy, are you willing to work hard and see if we can get rid of those crutches?” “I can’t do that. The doctors say I will never be able to walk without the crutches and a brace.” “Are you willing to try?” “I guess so.”

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Jimmy had Timothy lie on a pad on the floor of the converted garage. He tied the spring tension device to a rope and tied the end of the rope to a hook on the wall behind Tim’s head. He removed the brace. He then put Tim’s foot in the handle of the spring and told him to push. Tim tried. He could not make it move but about a half-inch. Jimmy encouraged him to keep trying.

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I was the first to notice that tears were beginning to run down Tim’s face. I signaled to Jimmy.

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“Jimmy, I can’t,” Tim said. It hurts. I will never be able to use that leg.”

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Jimmy disconnected the spring. “Do you want to try again?”

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In thirty seconds, Tim reappeared. “Let’s try again.”

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Somehow, that minute, I knew something good was going to happen. Jimmy got a piece of paper and wrote out a workout schedule for Tim. He also made Tim promise that he would not tell his parents what we were doing. He set goals that he expected Tim to reach.

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It was February. Tim’s schedule concluded with, “Walk on Christmas day.”

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“No.” By this time, Tim was putting the brace back on his leg.

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Every other day, Tim would come and work with Jimmy and, sometimes, I would assist. He also gave Tim two raw eggs and

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The progress was slow, but Tim never once missed a workout. There were times when we were discouraged, but we never saw that in Tim. He felt he was making progress, but if he was, it was very little. Jimmy refused to give up, and felt, if nothing else, we were at least giving the kid some attention he well deserved. I remember that October evening. It was Halloween. We had skipped the workout that day because Tim was going trick or treating with his family. Jimmy and I were in his workout room watching T.V. Then we heard a knock on the door.

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It was Tim. “I had rather work out than go trick or treating.” That evening, Tim made two steps without a crutch or brace. As they say in football, the momentum changed. Our efforts doubled, but Tim’s must have tripled. We planned Christmas Day carefully. We rehearsed it. It was like a scripted play. Finally the day came, Christmas Day. Jimmy and I showed up at Tim’s house at ten in the morning. His parents were certainly surprised to see us, but graciously invited us in. Mr. Verges said, “What brings you boys by?” “We wanted to see your Christmas present.” The Verges family looked surprised. Jimmy said, “Tim, hand us your crutches and take off your brace.” The expression on his parents’ face seemed to accuse us of being cruel. They had no idea what to expect. Tim unbuckled his brace, both straps, then he handed us his crutches - one to me and one to Jimmy. He took his first step, then his second and, with the third step, his mother rushed toward him as if to break his fall. Jimmy stepped between them. “Let him do it.” Tim walked all the way across the room and fell into the arms of each greeting family member. There was not a dry eye in the house. I still sometimes cry when I think about it. Jimmy went on to college, and became a physical therapist. This was when the profession was not a household word. He developed many techniques that are used today and published many articles. My favorite is “Tim Can Walk.” Jimmy passed away two years ago with cancer.

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Tim would always be limited in what that leg would do, but he seldom ever used the crutch or brace again. Eventually, he went to medical school and did a residency in Psychiatry. He specialized in sports psychology and is on retainer for several professional sports and major college teams. If a star NFL, MBA or MLB player’s performance suddenly drops and there is no physical reason, it is a good chance they will see Tim. I have never given or received a better Christmas present. That was fifty-three years ago. Merry Christmas to all of you.

 John Case

December 2015

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Go Beyond Story by Rose Marie Sand

For Christmas shopping , nothing beats your own personal store – a well stocked gift drawer.

And nothing makes more sense to me to stock that drawer, or closet, or box, with things I’ve picked up in my travels. I’ve got a wine topper from Sonoma, a scarf from Santa Fe, a couple of silver chains from Puerto Vallarta, and a tie from an art gallery in Philadelphia, safely tucked away till Christmas week. Notice something – these are all small items that easily tucked into my carry-on. Jewelry is perhaps my favorite thing to buy, and no woman on my list doesn’t feel the same way about receiving a piece of jewelry.

For larger items than I can’t easily cart home, shipping something I’ve hand picked from an art gallery more than makes up for the costs. Perhaps the hardest thing about early Christmas shopping is to keep from giving the item as soon as I get home. But although I whine and complain about Christmas decorations in stores before Halloween, I don’t feel the same way about shopping during the year while traveling. Traditionally, I’ve been one of those people who wait to shop until the second week or so of December. I hate malls, and crowded stores, and waiting forever in a check-out line, so I’m not above Amazon Prime shopping, or even gift cards for the teens on my list.

I must say honestly, there’s no “thing” that is more likely to bring a smile to the teens on my list as the ability to pick out their own present with a gift card. Here’s my favorite tip of all – collect maps from everywhere you travel and use them for wrapping presents! Voila! A cool and appropriate way to explain where the gift was purchased. This hint is a lot better than using newspaper comic pages for wrapping gifts like I once did when I ran out of paper. I’ve always found gift shopping for guys a bit intimidating; most men already have an electric screwdriver. Best idea I’ve come up with so far is Imported Beer and cool tech stuff I find in airports.

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Deservedly so, airport gift shops get a bad rap (no pun intended), but I’ve found some incredible gifts while waiting for my next flight. While it’s common knowledge that airport shops tend to jack up prices on items, that’s not always the case. Some areas, like Portland, Oregon, forbid shops to charge more for goods and services. In addition, some states, like Oregon, have no sales tax. If you’re thinking of shopping at the airport, compare prices online and check tax laws before you travel. True, you can’t return the gift as easily as if it came from a big box store, but returning gifts isn’t the point, is it?

The City of Slidell presents the 28th Annual

Christmas UNDER THE STARS

It’s about hand selecting something that makes someone smile and feel loved. I feel a lot of love for my loved ones when I’m miles away from them. Making lists of upcoming birthdays and Christmas gifts, those who have been nice, not naughty, gets me out of my head in a cramped plane seat. Skymall used to be a cool way to browse unusual items during a runway delay. Alas, the funky company went out of business, probably because shoppers like me only used the magazine for diversion. Yet there are other online businesses that offer similar tech-smart gifts that are but a click away. Speaking of clicks – I’ve found one way to use travel time to great advantage – Photoshop. You’re going to be taking pictures of your travel companions anyway, right? Instead of uploading to Facebook, import them into Photoshop, add an interesting filter. A gift of a photo memory is always appreciated. Tucked safely in my gift closet currently are several items I got in a museum gift shop in Santa Fe. Care to take a peak inside? Okay, first of all, it’s not really a box, but my cedar chest. I’ve always found this the best place to store treasures. An added bonus is that I get to relive my travel memories when I’m going through the box. If a gift goes right into my cedar chest when I’m unpacking, I’m less likely to give it to the intended recipient right after a trip. Here are a few things stashed away for thoughtful giving: - A journal from Philadelphia Museum -Thin silver chains from Mexico - Colorful sunglass straps - Exotic teas - Several silky scarves - Wine toppers - Beachy bracelets - Collapsible sun hat - Coasters - Solar powered phone charger - Pretty dish towels - Luggage tags If anyone on my gift list is reading this, stake your claim before December 25th. The next time you have that awkward moment when a friend or loved one shows up with a Christmas gift and you’re left offering a hug, visit your well-stocked gift closet. It truly is the thought that counts, especially when that thought happens when I’m having a great time traveling during the year.

“Peace Dove” by Eric B., STARC Artist

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story and photos by Donna Bush

In last month’s story, I had just wrapped on a day at the studio for filming of NCIS: New Orleans. Fast forward to October 2014 when I was lucky enough to be invited back for an “on location” shoot in the French Market near the US Mint for the episode “Chasing Ghosts.” And this time, I can bring my camera and take photos! I’m a bit more at ease for this trip, as I have a better idea of what to expect. I run into folks I met in August and to my surprise, they remembered and welcomed me! There is a strict “no camera” policy. One of the logistics crew tells me I can’t take pictures. When he recognizes me, he says with a grin, “Oh, it’s you! You’re ok!” and gives me a hug.

YES!! WOOHOO! The scene includes a Thanksgiving parade with two floats, local Cohen and College Prep marching band in the French Market and a pumpkin festival on the grounds of the U.S. Mint. Also in this episode is a chase scene as stuntman Michael “Crazy Boy” Seal attempts to elude the police. Highly skilled drivers with excellent skills operate the cars. Tourists stop in awe, staring as the faded maroon Cadillac careens down Decatur and sharply turns on to Barracks Street, tires screaming and narrowly missing parked cars. Cameras

shoot from various angles, mounted in the chase car, the police cars, and with cameramen riding with the stunt drivers. Amazing! When the driver is stopped by the parade barricades with no place to go, he leaps out of the car and makes a run for it, heading into a nearby building and up to the roof to try to escape. As he climbs the

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fire-escape ladder chased by local police, he misses his footing and falls to his death on the streets below... Michael “Crazy Boy,” lives in Chamale in Slidell with his wife and son. With a background of mixed martial arts (MMA) fighting all over the world, Mike is perfect as an agile stuntman. He got his big break in the movies while living in an MMA gym in Albuquerque. His strength and conditioning coach was renting a place to big-time casting director, Shari Rhodes. She was casting a Steven Seagal film and needed guys that looked like gang bangers but weren’t. The coach sent Mike and another fighter. Mike’s good looks got him noticed by the director who handed him a script. Mike, who had never acted before, was hesitant to read for the cameras. The director convinced him to give it a try and he was cast in the strong supporting role of ‘Jack’ in Urban Justice. Even though he started as an actor, he always leaned more towards stunt roles. Why stunts? “As an actor, everyone wants to pick apart every expression, every word you say, your intonation, the way you walk... As a stuntman, you jump out of a 4-story building on fire and no one ever comes over to say ‘Hey! You didn’t really convince me that you were on fire when you jumped out of that 4th story window.’” His training as an MMA fighter helped him push through difficult times while filming when he broke several ribs and continued shooting until the project was completed. Mike got his extensive driver training with CDL and became proficient as an 18-wheeler driver. He also specializes in motorcycles, 4-wheelers, fast cars, and is a “wheelman”.

TV TID-BIT:

A “wheelman” is a specialized driver who can drive a 4-wheel vehicle on 2 wheels

Mike has been a stuntman in numerous movies and several episodes of NCIS: New Orleans, with his character never surviving till the end of the show. He stays in shape running 3-5 miles daily, sometime carrying 36 pounds of body armor, plus teaching kickboxing/ fighting at Rich Celmentis’ Gladiator School in Slidell when his schedule permits. Mike says, “I lived in chaos my whole life! Acting is the meat and potatoes. The dessert is my non-profit, House of Survivors, LLC providing humanitarian aid to kids in South Sudan and the Ukraine.” Slidell and the film industry are fortunate to have someone like Mike!

Tourists are frequently included as extras during filming – either catching beads or milling about at the festival. As soon as I realized this, I mosey up to the crewman giving assignments and timidly ask if I can be included? “Sure, stand over here.” YAY!!! This could be my big break! I can call all of my friends and tell them to watch for me on the hit TV show! WOW! Take after take, I stand in line waiting for a roasted turkey leg that is real but I can’t eat. Each time the faded maroon Cadillac screams down Decatur, I make, what I think, is appropriate expressions of fear and awe. But alas, I did not make the final cut, ending up on the cutting room floor. I never in a million years thought I would want to be on a TV show or in a movie. I’ve come a long way, baby.

Life of a stuntman... A dangerous car chase, an escape, a fall, and his TV character’s death

1st AD, Eric Hays, gets involved in the tourist logistics, dancing with the local school band, encouraging them to get engaged, play it up and dance. He encourages the extras and the bystanders to participate, shout, “Throw me something Mister!”

TV TID-BIT:

Almost every episode of NCIS: New Orleans includes some local musician, whether they are integral to the plot or just adding to the flavor and realism of shooting in the Big Easy.

A local school band isn’t the only New Orleans music used in the show. Holy Cross High graduate, Kyle Lamy, grew up in Marrero and works as NOLA Music Supervisor and Live Music Mixer for the show. He works closely with the Director and Producer to find the best music mix for each episode from concept to post-production. Some episodes, such as the Season 2 Premier were scripted to have Dr. John appear; but with other episodes, Kyle is able to suggest local musicians, many of whom are known only to local viewers, such as trombonist Delfeayo Marsalis, Khris Royal and Dark Matter, violin and guitar players Tanya & Dorise, and Jon Cleary and the Absolute Monster Gentlemen. Kyle and partner, Robert Bigelow, owner of RedLion Sound, LLC have perfected a hybrid technique of ambient mik-ing that blends together pre-record, pantomime and live playback giving the most realistic sound and appearance. Both Kyle and Robert worked on the hit HBO show Treme where this technique was similarly utilized. Another of Kyle’s job duties is to travel around each

shooting area and record local sounds, such as the Steamboat Natchez calliope, the clip-clop of carriage horseshoes on the streets, people and nature sounds. Kyle tells me, “We were filming in Audubon Park when the cicadas started humming. There’s no filtering out that noise no matter what technique you employ! You just roll with it and include ‘em.” Since cicadas are only found on our side of the country, Kyle had to explain the noisy creatures to Los Angeles!

TV TID-BIT:

How to get perfect music recordings on TV shows, as told by the pros: 1. Arrange for the musician to arrive on set 1 hour earlier than the crew. 2. Place isolated microphones on instruments and rig a 5.0 surround sound boom mic about 40 feet in front and 10 feet above the band to record the realistic sound as it bounces off the walls. 3. Musician(s) play as sound is recorded but not filmed. This is known as a pre-record or music only take. 4. Crew comes on set. 5. In most situations the prerecord sound track is played back through earwigs (in-ear monitoring devices) and speakers, so that the musicians are hearing what they previously played, enabling them to pantomime and dance along with the crowd.

The NCIS: New Orleans crew on location in the French Market While on set I meet and chat with New Orleanian, Skip Bolen, the official CBS NCIS: New Orleans photographer. The career of a TV show photographer is way more involved than I ever thought. For instance, think of all of the photographs in your average episode. There are driver’s licenses, military IDs, crime scene shots, autopsy, and evidence photos. But wait, there’s more. Every time the camera pans across the room of someone’s home where family portraits are seen, these are shot by the still photographer.

TV TID-BIT:

If an actor picks up a newspaper or magazine in a scene with a photograph pertaining to the crime, it’s shot and staged by a still photographer

He’s even shot surveillance video for the show. And of course, he shoots the publicity shots that you see in various newspapers, magazines and websites. His job is to get great shots no matter what the conditions; low-light, rain scenes, smoky scenes and to do it unobtrusively without disturbing any part of the filming. His cameras are in special cases, called Jacobson Sound Blimps to silence any camera noise from the highly sensitive microphones. Since I’m a photographer, I have to ask about camera gear. Per Skip, “A couple years ago, I was on location on TNT’s Dallas and we were outside on a railway depot in the dead of night - there was a crane several blocks away with a light, and close by, there was a 1x1 (12x12 inch) LED Litepanel - together this was all the light for an entire area with a dozen or so bad guys with weapons with an actor negotiating a deal - they were pushing the Arri Alexa television camera into uncharted ISO territories; pushing it to

6. In post-processing, the isolated mics are lowered or dropped to allow hearing of the dialogue. The 5.0 boom mic can be brought up to give a more ambient sound paired with the dialogue.

Skip Bolen, NCIS: New Orleans’ still photographer shoots the “crime scene”, then the evidence shots which may be used in the episode

the limits while filming. I figured if I were to shoot heavy and knowing what moments to shoot, I was bound to get a couple good images - and I did.” With that experience, Skip went home, sold some of his stock in Apple, and bough the latest Canon cameras. Now, he says, “I can pretty much capture anything.”

on the show longer, her hairstyle changes, she begins to evolve, becomes a bit sassy and more comfortable with New Orleans life. Margeaux Fox is the Hair Department Head and hairdresser for Zoe McLellan and Rob Kervkovich, aka Sebastian Lund, forensic specialist.

Today, I met a variety of local folks making their living through Hollywood South in Louisiana. Paul, a local gaffer, is responsible for lighting; an extremely challenging task with the uneven light on a bright sunny day and shadows cast by the skyline of multiple heights of buildings. The Director of Photography instructs the gaffer on what he is looking for in the scene. Then a method is devised to make it happen, which could involve filters or shades. During the lunch break, I chat with Theresa Fleming, “Mama T,” a West Bank hair stylist, who now only works in the film industry. She was Scott Bakula’s personal hair stylist for Season 1, having worked with him on a previous movie. She invited me to come into the hair/makeup trailer where I meet all of the hair stylists and make-up artists. I meet CCH Pounder, aka Dr. Loretta Wade, and loan her my reading glasses so she can review today’s script. Lucas Black, who portrays Christopher LaSalle, comes in for his turn. He’s a true Alabama boy, born in Decatur and of course, “Roll Tide” is painted on his mirror! Did you realize that hair stylists help to set the image and personality of a character? For example, McLellan’s character, Brody, started off a bit hesitant and unsure. As she’s

With fifteen million viewers each week, the team takes their work very seriously, often working 18 hour days on the side of a road or in a swamp. There’s an obvious camaraderie between the team, the crew, and the cast. They really are like family - a happy family that has each others’ back.

Zoe McLellan, aka Brody, with Margeaux Fox, Hair Dept. Head Margeaux comes from a Lafayette family of doctors and lawyers, but she’s always loved styling hair. She grew up doing her friends’ hair and working in a salon. Her older sister, Monique, a doctor, encouraged her to follow her passion, and helped smooth the way with their dad. Her father supported her desire and her move to Los Angeles to attend Vidal Sassoon Beauty School. After graduation, she served her apprenticeship with a salon in L.A., whose main pursuit was fashion and print. Eventually, she made her way to commercials and then into the film industry, often hired as the Hair Department Head. She’s always loved the development of the character using hair and makeup to tell the story. She’s involved from script concept to the final scene, reading each phase of the script, the writer’s notes on hair, make-up and meeting with department heads to decide the best possible way to bring the characters to life.

TV TID-BIT:

Actress CCH Pounder, who plays Dr. Loretta Wade, gets her hair done by Mama T

She shares with me the development of Shalita Grant, who plays the character Sonja Percy. “We started Shalita with a Caucasian weave in Season 1, as she was a kick-butt undercover ATF agent. With Season 2, and her move to a job on Pride’s team, she sports a more naturally curly, softened look.” I can see how she progresses from undercover agent to team member.

Each hairdresser and makeup artist meticulously follows the Naval guidelines for hair, facial hair, sideburns, tattoos, etc. They are proud of the work they produce and want it to be a compliment to all service personnel everywhere.

Mike Paloma and partner, Annabelle Macneal, with Last Looks in Metairie, provide hair products, make-up, expendables and prosthetics (special effects) for the show. The props and make-up departments will often create their own blood, depending on the look they want to achieve.

TV TID-BIT:

Expendables are sponges, brushes, etc – all the things that must be replaced every show.

Prosthetics, or special effects, are alcoholactivated palettes, dried blood, dirt effects, makeup to cover tattoos, painted on wounds, etc. I asked how Last Looks got its name. Mike says, “‘Last Looks’ is a term used in the TV and film industry. The phrase ‘Last Looks’ is called after the 1st AD calls ‘Rolling, Rolling, Rolling’, before ‘Action’ is called. It is meant to call in hair/make-up to give a final touch-up to actors before a scene is filmed.”

TV TID-BIT:

Did you know that blood in a scene is handled differently depending on where it is? Blood on the skin is part of make-up’s job. If it’s on clothing, it is handled by wardrobe, and if it’s on the ground, it’s a job for the prop department. I’m going to ask you to fast-forward once more to November 2015 and my big surprise. On November 5, 2015, I delivered the current issue of Slidell Magazine on location in Federal City in Algiers. I arrive at base camp and, along with delivering magazines,

LOL! I feel like I’m an undercover agent on assignment. HaHa! Maybe I am! Monday – 6am wakeup, 7am on the road with a minimum 3 different looks, posing as a schoolteacher. 8:30am at base camp in Algiers. Do you know what will happen next?? Yes! I’m going to be an extra on NCIS: New Orleans, Season 2, Episode 11, ‘Blue Christmas’ airing December 15. So do you know what it’s like to be an extra on a TV show? I didn’t, but I’m going to tell you and help you out with tips if you want to be one.

I deliver a surgical cap, courtesy of Slidell business Scrub Stop, to CCH Pounder, aka Dr. Loretta Wade. She remembers me from my previous visit a year ago and absolutely loves the cap! Filming is taking place at the 108-year old home of Colonel Chris and Evelyn Schlafer. I hop off the base camp shuttle on set to get a big hug from Eric Hays and hand him a copy of the magazine. I enjoy watching the filming of an upcoming episode. As I leave, I remind Eric of my latest request. I want to be an extra - UNCUT. His response: “Monday. Call John White.”

First, there will be a casting call, asking for specific ages, nationalities, sometimes hair color, height and weight, etc. Five years ago, you had to register a profile with each different casting agency. Now, it is much easier. There’s a central casting call website, MyCastingFile.com, where you create your profile. Each time you log in, you will see all of the casting calls offered in the locations you requested. All you need to do is mark yourself available for the ones you are interested in and fit the requirements. You’ll be notified if you are selected. A pop-up window opens with more information when you select a call. You’ll receive specific information on wardrobe and any unique requirements. Not knowing what I was supposed to do, I called John White, who met me at my car and graciously walked me over to the check in table, introducing me to Christina.

Director James Whitmore, Jr, in Thanksgiving mode, sporting a turkey hat that the crew had made for him and wearing it proudly! “This is Donna Bush. She’s a friend of Eric’s and she will play a schoolteacher today.” Christina gives me the paperwork to fill out and offers assistance if I have any questions. Typical job-type info – name, address, social security number, LA driver’s license, withholding, etc. For the tax break using local residents, they need a copy of your driver’s license or passport or voter’s registration card. Next, I visit the wardrobe table. The moment of truth – am I dressed appropriately or do I head back to my car for all the other clothes that I brought? Yay! I am perfect, fantastic! I laugh and share that this is my first time and I had no idea what to expect. I grab some water and sit to observe all of the other extras. One common theme amongst them – they are either retirees or college students. What a great way to fund your college studies. There’s lots of time waiting around when students can study or do homework. Or amuse themselves, making money and new friends in their retirement years. I see ‘Mama T’, Miss Theresa Fleming, my beautiful hairdresser friend who helped me out so much on my visit last year. We hug and catch up. She’s married now since last April and still helps out part-time on NCIS: New Orleans along with other projects.

Slidell Magazine writer and photographer, Donna Bush, is an extra, playing the part of a teacher in an NCIS: New Orleans episode to air December 15, 2015

After wardrobe, I head to the make-up and hair area to see if I need any adjustments. Hailey gives me a bit of eye shadow, eyeliner, eyebrow and blush. Then Mama T smooths

TV TID-BIT:

To be an extra: Don’t wear logos, branding, images or artwork! Big no-no. Also, guys, if you are supposed to play a high school student, don’t show up with a full beard! Women – don’t wear too much makeup! my hair as we joke about the Louisiana humidity with natural curly hair. I find a seat next to Gentilly native, Beverly Morgan, who has been an extra for five years since she retired from her Textron career as a cost analyst. Both she and her husband have appeared as extras in numerous TV shows and movies. She’s been on several NCIS: New Orleans episodes and appeared as a judge on Season 2, Episode 8, when the Director, Edward Ornelas, specifically picked her for the part. Coincidentally, Beverly and her husband played onlookers in the stunt scene when Michael “Crazy Boy” fell to his death in ‘Chasing Ghosts.’ She gives me tips on applying to be an extra. After about an hour, we are shuttled to the set where filming will take place. As the crew wraps on other takes, I notice ‘Video Village’ being set up at the end of the vacant room where we are waiting. I see Marta, the Script Supervisor, walk into the room and I head over to say hello. She thanks me for the kind words in the November article in Slidell Magazine. I confide that I am here to be an extra today and hopefully won’t be cut like I was for the Thanksgiving episode. She offers advice: “Walk towards the camera. If you see a star, try to be in the same scene.” Wink, wink. Got it! As I start to walk away, Eric calls my name and hands me an NCIS: New Orleans bag of goodies. I thank him and tell him, “Don’t cut me!”

TV TID-BIT:

Video Village: The area in which viewing monitors are placed for the director and other production personnel. Referred to by this name because of the propensity to fill with people, chairs, and overall “too many cooks in the kitchen.”

I hurry back to where John White is talking to my group of backgrounders. He describes the scene we will shoot. We will be upstairs in classrooms with one teacher for approximately 10 students. When the fire alarm sounds, students and teachers will leave rooms and head for exits. A couple of students will collide and fall to the floor, crowding the hallway as others hurry to leave. As the teacher, I will open the door, usher out two students, then leave myself, followed by the others. In our scene, Zoe McLellan, aka ‘Meridith Brody,’ and Shalita Grant, aka ‘Sonja Percy,’ are also in the building, running toward the exit. I meet the double for Zoe, Vanessa Motta, who’s been in stunts for 10 years and doubled for Zoe in two other episodes. There’s a definite resemblance!

TV TID-BIT:

Backgrounders is the term used to describe the extras that are seen in the background of your favorite movie or TV show. They don’t have voice lines and mostly look like a blur in the scene but they add to the reality of the scene.

I also meet stuntman Preston Schrag, who will play one of the colliding students crashing to the floor in their haste to leave the building. He confesses that, when he first started in the industry, he would never buy groceries, but instead eat all three meals on set and stuff his backpack with food for later. Smart kid! There are several takes. I ask “Are you bruised and sore?” He shakes his head, “Nope. I’ve got padding. I’m good.” The crew is extremely safety conscious. After every rehearsal and every take, there’s a

Stuntman Preston Schrag “falls” as he plays an escaping student from the school where Donna was an extra, playing his teacher. shout out, “Everyone okay?” We are reminded each take, “Safety first. If you don’t feel safe, don’t do it.” It’s wonderful to see how much the cast and crew care about safety! While another scene is shooting with Brody and Percy, I walk across the hall to meet a fellow “teacher”, Marisa Herrin, a semi-retired Environmental Engineer who’s enjoying her retired freedom as an extra. This is her eighth extra assignment on NCIS: NO. Even Marisa’s dog has appeared in the movies. Her doberman, Bacchus, was cast as a dog extra that goes wild in the upcoming sci-fi movie, Night of the Wild, filmed in Slidell. We start filming after a delicious lunch. The cameras are set up at one end of the second floor hallway. I’m instructed by John White to walk in the direction of the cameras. Yay!!! We shoot about 3-4 times and the cameras are moved to the other end of the hallway. I see Eric and ask, “Which direction should I walk this time?” He says, “Walk in the direction of the cameras and duck in this room.” This room is where ‘Video Village’ is set up. Cool! Sounds and looks promising. Stay tuned December 15 at 8pm to see if I make the cut! The one constant and consistent theme throughout everyone I’ve interview or talked with is this --- hands-down, NCIS: New Orleans is the best place to work. Whether you are an extra, part of the cast, or part of the crew, it’s a true family. They work long hours and pay very close attention to the minutest of details, but at the end of the day, they love every minute of it; what they do and whom they do it with. They take extreme pride in the show they produce. It was an honor to be part of such a great group! 33

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Recently, a spur of the moment, super cheap, mini-vacation was offered to me and my family. The location was in the Mississippi countryside at a peaceful cabin on Black Creek, owned by my friend and fellow Slidell Magazine writer, John Case, “The Storyteller”. John was loaning the cabin to Kendra, our Editor. Being the kind man he is, he encouraged her to invite MANY other people and their families to this THREE bedroom house in the woods. Most of them I did not know. Now, I’m not very good at math; but I have five people in my family - all of which, when put in a confined area together,

Cabin Comradery could possibly cause bloodshed. There are three rooms. Each with one bed. I believe one room had two twin beds… Same difference in this situation. How would this work? A better question is, would we even GET the choice of a room with all these other people on the email invitation list? I imagined 50 strangers with sleeping bags on the floor in the cabin’s living room, witnessing me hit my husband in the middle of the night, trying to get him to take a breath during a loud sleep apnea episode. Or listening to us as he asks me a question after putting the super thick night guard in my mouth. No way was I taking my bra off, and I can’t sleep with it on, so I was definitely

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going to have to fight to the DEATH for a bedroom. I believe this is why John, being the SMART man he is, decided to take his mini-vacay somewhere else. So, the plan in the email was this: whoever of these bazillion people wanted to come on this now-questionable get-away, could show up whenever they wanted, come and go as they pleased, and crash in whatever space they could find. If I was in college, I would EAT THIS UP. But, I’m not. I resigned myself to the fact that this was going to be a TOTAL DISASTER, but one that I was apparently going to watch unfold anyway. GOD HELP US.

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We picked a comfortable 2pm arrival on Saturday with no sleeping bags and little food… but plenty of stuffed animals and hot wheels cars for people to trip on. (Might as well make it MORE interesting.) We also decided to bring our calmest, smallest dog, Mr. Z, because he would be least likely to get on peoples’ nerves. A very sweet Chihuahua. No WAY there would be a problem with him. We also had an ice chest of beer. Worst case scenario, I would drink a lot of beer very quickly and let my husband, Brian, worry about the details while I floated down the creek or passed out behind a hay bale. My anxiety grew thinking about these things, and continued to grow as my mind made up even crazier scenarios… All of a sudden, the people I envisioned at the cabin were super-important, rich, beautiful, perfect in every way and watching my boys fight over something stupid with each other… questioning my parenting abilities when I yell, smack them across the head and make them hold hands for 30 minutes. I see my daughter dancing on top of a hay bale with a pair of sharp scissors (something about hay bales), yelling my deepest darkest secrets, while my husband, all of a sudden dressed in a clown suit, is juggling fire sticks that ultimately burn the whole cabin down! Yeah. WHY are we doing this again? Halfway to the cabin, I impulsively pulled over on the side of the interstate to grab a beer before continuing on to our ultimate fate. My husband just looked at me while I frantically opened this beer, asking him to drive. I also wanted to ask him if he packed a clown suit, just in case, but I kept it to myself. As we finally pulled up to the cabin, I only saw three cars. Hmm, we must be early. One of them was the Slidell Magazine car. Oh good, Kendra is here. We know her. We walked in, preparing to make a bee-line to Kendra, but were greeted by a very friendly man, Bernie. Strangely, he was the only one there, which quickly made him, in my mind, a very SUSPISIOUS man. Is he even supposed to be here? Did he kill everyone, hiding them in a hay bale? I followed him to the back deck which was, literally, like 80 feet in the air, above some big rocks that sat on the side of the creek. I looked down for bodies. No bodies.

Bernie was saying something, but quickly became the Charlie Brown teacher as I imagined one of my kids falling off this manmade death trap. And if THAT didn’t happen, then the HUGE spider with fangs, hanging on the eaves behind us, sporting a pair of shades and some kneehigh socks, was gonna do the job. All of a sudden, I was the main character in one of the “Final Destination” movies, trying to figure out how it was all going to end. Luckily, Bernie snapped me out of it when he started talking military, which always brings me back to my “tough self”, and gets me out of my head. I decided he was a keeper. Looking down at the creek, I noticed a man peacefully fishing, obviously enjoying some quiet time to himself. Because we were five miles in the air, I didn’t recognize him right away. It was Chuck. Nice guy. Dawn, his better half, a Facebook friend who I had hung out with once before, joined him minutes later. Cool chick. Ok, maybe this won’t be so bad. It made sense that he would be enjoying the peace and quiet, because they also had three kids there. How perfect would it be if our kids and their kids got along? …A thought that left my mind just as fast as it came while watching my kids run out into the water, splashing right in front of Chuck’s fishing pole. “Sorry!” I continued to say, as he moved down the creek, my kids following and splashing in front of him. He just kept kindly waving up to me like it was no big deal. If that wasn’t bad enough, Mr. Z kept following our kids in the water, getting swept away with the current. Chuck just kept grabbing him before he would float past, putting him back on land. Over. And over. And over… So much for his moment, but thank God he is a patient man. My anxiety started to creep back again wondering what other parenting fails were going to be exposed. This had me wanting to tackle the huge spider so I could use his web for a zip line to get down off of “Mt. Deck boards” quickly, averting any further crisis. I didn’t though. I walked instead. Good call.

Upon my arrival at the creek, I learned that my innocent little Mr. Z wasn’t so innocent after all. He was frantically attempting to mount the two huge dogs owned by Dawn and Chuck. He seemed particularly interested in their MALE lab mix, Solo, who kept trying to get away. But Mr. Z was relentless! “Sorry!” I continued to say, as I would grab him, setting him away from the other two. Over. And over. And over... Brian and Bernie were still on the deck, chatting away, unaffected by all of the commotion. Chuck had long given up on fishing, but seemed happy to just be there. And Dawn was sitting in the sand by the water, calm as could be. It just made me look even crazier. I decided I would try this strange approach to handling life, letting everything just play out, controlling my thoughts instead of trying to control the situation. It really is a much nicer lens to see life through. The beer helped some, I’m sure. Before, when it sounded like my kids were loudly yelling nonsense, I now realized they were just enjoying themselves. Either that, or they calmed down because I did. All 6 kids began playing the same games together… fighting invisible Pokémon, making scepters out of the blue clay so 37

they could rule the land… Dawn and I were so happy that our kids were being weird TOGETHER. We talked about having no clue where they got that weirdness from (as we looked for strange faces within pieces of driftwood). Her big dogs learned that, if they walked into the deeper part of the creek, Mr. Z would just float away from them. And Mr. Z learned that he would always be caught by Chuck. Ahhhh… Everything was working itself out without me interfering. I decided I would just blend in with the scenery and enjoy it all. This is about the time that the Dog Police, I mean Kendra, arrived with her dog. Back to my math...that makes 6 adults, 6 kids and 6 dogs (the neighbor’s dogs had joined our pack by this time) in ONE cabin. “Leslie, your dog is floating away! OMG! Your dog is trying to hump my dog! Are the dogs fighting?! Get your pervy dog! Whose dog poop is this?...” Have a seat Kendra… you can borrow my lens. 38

So, there we sat. Watching the raw, unfiltered beauty of life. It’s not an easy thing to do for some of us, but I hope the more we try and see through that lens, the easier it will become. It is nice to have moments with beautiful scenery and great people to help us along. Supper time came. Brian and I had already claimed our bedroom at this point, which just happened to be the one with a deep closet area filled with spare pillows, a perfect space for our kids to sleep in. After tucking the kids into their closet, the adults decided to wrap the day up with a raunchy game of “Cards Against Humanity”. You know you have made some good friends when you have to Google inappropriate phrases from the game together because no one knows what they mean - yet, once they find out, still stick around to keep playing for two more hours. The game eventually fizzled out when our laughs did, and we found ourselves on separate walks around the property. At the end of my walk with Brian, we found a hay bale. I SWEAR.

When we finally made our way to the long-awaited bed, in the room that we didn’t have to hurt anyone to get, we found all three of our kids laying in our bed, fast asleep. Too tired to care, we both crawled into the pillow closet, which now seemed WAY smaller than before, but hey, at least I could take my bra off and no one would be witness to me hitting my husband in my sleep. In the end, when I think about it, I don’t know what my “ideal expectations” of this adventure were supposed to be, but I definitely wouldn’t change a thing. I think we all learned something at that cabin. No matter how much I worry, plan (or don’t plan), life is going to happen. It’s much easier and enjoyable to go into it with an open mind, and it helps when there are people around you that truly get that. Everyone you meet plays a part in your life, and you in theirs. Don’t miss your part in the script by trying to write it yourself. Sometimes it just is what it is. The stream will take you where it shall, you just have to jump in and let go.

By John N. Felsher

Santa Comes to Town

Cajun Style!

Bathed in the glow of a roaring fire, children warmed themselves near its flames as they roasted hot dogs, toasted marshmallows or s’mores. Some looked up between the branches of stately live oaks festooned with Spanish moss reflecting the dance of the flames to watch the stars for any sign of an airborne visitor on this cold December evening. However, no visitor came from the sky with his familiar sleigh and eight magical flying reindeer, plus another one with a bright red nose. Sleighs glide across snow, a substance often lacking in South Louisiana even on the coldest days. In Bayou Country, water creates the best transportation routes. Looking up the bayou, the children could see a faint glow. Soon, the sound of jazz, Christmas carols and other music began to reverberate through the ancient trees. As the distant light grew closer and brighter, the children of all ages grew more excited. Then, the first of a procession of boats rounded a bend in the bayou and there he stood in all his red and white bearded glory on the deck. Santa had arrived bearing gifts for the youngest revelers, although he had to leave his sleigh and reindeer behind. In a land including more than 40 percent of the wetlands in the contiguous United States, Ol’ St. Nick found a way to deliver his goodies to youngsters, and not so young ones. Santa was on the Bayou!

“Santa on the Bayou is a chance for Santa to visit the bayou area in the style in which he visits on water,” explained Charlotte Lowry Collins, my fellow Slidell Magazine writer. Charlotte lives in a Bayou Liberty home dating to 1789, long before Slidell or even the state of Louisiana existed. “Santa can’t come on a sleigh because there’s no snow, but he loves the water. He also loves eating Louisiana seafood and visiting the houses on the bayou. He gives Rudolph the night off and comes to the children along Bayou Liberty by boat.”

turn around to head back to St. Genevieve’s Catholic Church.

Scheduled for December 12 this year, Santa on the Bayou combines Christmas and a Mardi Gras atmosphere complete with a parade of floats that actually float. Free and open to anyone who wants to participate, interested Nauti People just need to bring a boat of any kind to join the flotilla. People who want to make the voyage along the bayou needed to show up on the lakeside of the Bayou Liberty Bridge at St. Genevieve Catholic Church before dusk on the designated evening. Sometimes, people who don’t own boats can jump on another craft with someone else. “We welcome any boaters who would like to join us,” Charlotte advised. “It starts at the church with a traditional blessing of the fleet by the priest. That’s an important aspect of the tradition. People light bonfires in their front yards. Here, the front of the house faces the bayou, not the road. The older homes always faced the water because those were the transportation highways long ago.” After everyone arrives at the bridge, the priest of St. Genevieve Catholic Church blesses the fleet, an old South Louisiana tradition to ensure a good harvest of fish, crabs, shrimp or whatever else they plan to catch. In this case, it’s to keep people safe so they will each enjoy a great time on the water. Sometimes, the priest even goes in one of the boats with the rest of the crew. People who wish to participate on shore build bonfires on their property as a signal for Santa to stop. After the blessing, the fleet heads up the bayou looking for bonfires. When Santa spots a fire, the entire procession stops for a visit. With no real hard schedule and just fun on the agenda, the visit might take a few minutes or quite a long time. That usually depends upon how many children wait to see Santa and the quality of the hospitality offered by the host of the house.

“At lot of the people dress up like elves,” advised Pena, who lives in a house built on the bayou in 1797. “We have music playing on the boats and we sing Christmas carols. People in the area who don’t actually live on the water often go to a neighbor’s house who is on the bayou. Every time we stop at a house, we’re always graciously received. Some people serve us gumbo and potato salad. The trip varies every year, depending upon how many stops we make and how long we stay at each stop. If someone has a lot of kids at the house, we stay until Santa sees every one of them. At some stops, we stay quite a while.” “It’s amazing how the parade looks coming down the bayou,” Charlotte commented. “People can see the brilliant lights reflecting on the water, hear the music and see Santa on the boat. Santa sees those bonfires and knows he’s welcome to stop. While Santa passes out treats to the children, the adults take care of Santa’s helpers with food and refreshments.” Santa on the Bayou began in the 1980s. On that first Santa on the Bayou event nearly 30 years ago, only six boats participated, but everyone enjoyed a great time. They decided to do it again the following year. Each year since then, the parade grew increasingly larger and more memorable. “I heard of some similar events, but there was nothing on Bayou Liberty back then, so we just decided to do one here,” recalled Diane Pena, who ran Santa on the Bayou for many years. “We stopped at every house on the bayou that had a fire blazing. Santa got off at each stop and gave each child a great big peppermint stick. Children who didn’t live on the bayou could come to the church at the bridge to see Santa and get candy. Some people brought bags of gifts for Santa to give to children at their houses. We’d stop at the house and Santa would give out those gifts to those boys and girls.”

The parade voyages along the bayou, rain or shine, in all kinds of weather to deliver its Christmas cheer. In some years, bitter cold caused ice to form along the bayou shorelines, but a little cold never stopped the big guy from the North Pole. However, Santa nearly fell into the bayou one year as his foot slipped while getting onto the boat. Some people claimed they saw the jolly old elf enjoying generous amounts of eggnog throughout the evening. Another year, the fleet needed to get past the closed Bayou Liberty Bridge. Parade organizers make prior arrangements to open the bridge at a certain time. Unfortunately, the bridge tender only allowed half of the boats to transit through the bridge before leaving. “When the bridge closed, some of the guys in the boats jumped on the bridge, figured out how to operate the machinery and opened the bridge themselves to let all the boats

In true South Louisiana fashion, many people on the boats don crazy costumes and decorate each craft in various wild themes. Some boats carry generators to power extra lights or so they can blast music as the flotilla slowly makes its way along the bayou channel. The procession travels as far as the bayou will let them. Then, they 41

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go through,” recalled an anonymous source. “Then, they closed the bridge span again and went about their business. By the time the sheriff’s deputies started asking questions about the bridge, nobody knew anything.” Now in her 70s, Pena decided to pass the boat wheel to someone else. Fortunately, the Bayou Liberty Association accepted that captaincy to continue the tradition. People do not need to belong to the association to participate, but many people who start as non-members eventually become members. “A few years ago, I decided to turn it over to someone else as I got older,” Pena admitted. “It was a lot of fun all those years. We always had a good time. We had no schedule and no rules. It was just a wonderful time. I’m glad to see some of those little kids who were getting candy from Santa years ago are now running their own boats and bringing their children to see Santa. I’m really glad they are carrying on with this tradition.” The event ran every year for almost three decades and counting. The parade continued even in 2005 -- just four months after Hurricane Katrina devastated the area and destroyed many boats. In December 2005, Santa on the Bayou, albeit a scaled-down version of it, still made its way along Bayou Liberty to bring a bit of cheer to a shattered area. “After Katrina, we all wanted to keep that tradition happening,” recalled Collins, a member of the event committee for the Bayou Liberty Association. “It’s just too unique and fun. After Katrina, many people no longer had boats, but we held the 2005 Santa on the Bayou with what boats we had because it was so important to keep that tradition alive. We’ve been struggling since Katrina to get Santa on the Bayou back to its former glory.” Almost everyone who lives on the Bayou Liberty shoreline participates either on shore or in a boat. Some people schedule their office Christmas parties for Santa on the Bayou night. Noted Chefs John Folse and John Besh traditionally prepare fabulous dishes for their houseguests and boat visitors to enjoy. Famed New Orleans jazz pianist Ronnie Kole frequently entertains people by playing music. Even Santa has been spotted tickling the ivories to play a jazz tune or two with a very distinctive New Orleans flavor and showing little children how to play piano on occasion.

“We have been to almost every home on the bayou at some point in time,” revealed Charlotte, wife of a retired musician herself. “Different people up and down the bayou hosted Santa at times. Sometimes, we’ll stop at a house that has a bunch of musicians in the house and we sing songs. The food is always incredible. A lot of people go all out to put on a good spread. Chef John Besh invites all of his chefs and usually prepares some food with a theme. It might be Cuban, Vietnamese or some other kind of food. The music goes along with whatever the theme is that year.” Santa on the Bayou never happens in the same way twice. Each year, the boats pull up sporting various decorations and crewed by elaborately costumed sailors. Depending upon the weather and other factors, the parade might include more or fewer boat than the previous year. Some people go home rather quickly and depart immediately after the last stop. Others party all night. “Each year is very unique, but it’s always incredible and memorable old-fashioned traditional South Louisiana family fun,” Charlotte said. “For me, I love watching the kids. They get so excited interacting with Santa. It’s such a different environment than just going to see Santa in the mall or something. The kids get on Santa’s lap and have a great time. Sometimes, they give Santa food and he gives them gifts. We all have a great time, but I think Santa has the best time of everyone.”

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A Bit of History: The Bayou Liberty community long predates Slidell

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As early as 1700, 18 years before a tiny cluster of log huts called New Orleans started in a swamp along the Mississippi River, a priest became one of the first Europeans to visit what became St. Tammany Parish. Father DuRu, a Jesuit missionary who sailed with Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville on his second voyage to the Louisiana Colony he founded, walked overland from Bay St. Louis to cross Pearl River and visit Indian villages along the bayous on the northern shore of Lake Pontchartrain. In the 1780s, Esteban Rodríguez Miró, governor of the Spanish colony of Louisiana, awarded vast land grants north of Lake Pontchartrain to settlers. After the French Revolution erupted near the end of the 18th century, members of the Cousin Family arrived in what was named Bonfouca, after an Indian chief who lived in the area. They settled on extensive land grants stretching all the way to present-day Mandeville. In 1852, Antole Cousin built a brick church for her family on the banks of Bayou Liberty decades before Slidell existed. The family named it for St. Genevieve in honor of Antole’s mother. Two years later, she built a rectory about 50 feet from the brick chapel on the bayou to give visiting priests a place to stay as they made their rounds through the parish. The historic church remains a very active place of worship as well as the centerpiece of the community existing along Bayou Liberty today.

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by Corey Hogue

Is it December already? My how the time flies when we have all these wonderful sports to enjoy. Basketball, baseball, and football, the athletic entertainment trinity, are all either winding down or in full swing. College football, sadly, is one of the sports winding down. The regular season may be over for teams like LSU and Tulane but we have two very important phases left in the schedule: playoffs and awards. And no individual award is more prestigious and more coveted than the Heisman Trophy. You know, that huge trophy of a guy that looks like he stopped running long enough to give you a high five.

(Ooooooo). More on that later. The one Heisman Trophy winner from LSU was all the way back in 1959, when a multithreat athlete by the name of Billy Cannon won College Football’s revered trophy. Football was very different in that time, where the national champion was voted on by a polling system and many players played both offense and defense. Billy, for example, would run the ball, catch a pass, throw the ball, return punts and kickoffs, punt the ball away, and even kick extra points. Not many know this but he was also part of the famed Chinese Bandits defense. The same night he had his famous Halloween Run, a punt return for a touchdown against undefeated Ole Miss in 1959, he helped stuff Ole Miss at the goal line to preserve LSU’s win over the Rebels. Truly, he did it all. In 1959 he earned almost every award a college football player can get, including the Heisman. In fact, his is the only one made of silver. He went on to have a very productive professional career,

The Heisman Trophy and LSU haven’t always been close friends. Only one has ever been given to an LSU player; and the last time LSU was in the running was 2011, when Tryann Matheiu was still on the team. Despite this GLARING oversight, there have been some very interesting winners. And of course, there is the infamous curse

but that is not where his Heisman story ends. One of the most interesting rumors I remember hearing is how in 1986, while in serious financial trouble, Billy sold his trophy to friend Tom Moran, owner of TJ Ribs, a famous restaurant in Baton Rouge. To this day, the trophy is proudly displayed in the restaurant and he gets to eat there for free. I repeat - free. Ribs. If I would have known that, I would have sold MY Heisman Trophy to Commander’s Palace...ok so maybe my First Place social studies fair ribbon... ok, so maybe I only have a 3rd place in a fund raising baking raffle but still I WOULD HAVE SOLD IT!! Fast forward to today, LSU might be bringing home another after waiting for 56 years. Leonard Fournette has been running wild and might be able to win the Heisman votes he needs. If he does, he would have some seriously famous company. Many running backs have been selected to receive the

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prestigious reward. Unfortunately, for the past few seasons, voters have been high on running quarterbacks. In fact, eight out of the past nine winners of the man-with-the-hand trophy have been quarterbacks with some serious athletic running ability. Here’s a cool Saints fact: The non-QB player that won the trophy in that time span was none other than Mark Ingram. Speaking of the NFL, a number of Heisman winners have had successful professional careers. Doak Walker, Paul Hornung, Roger Staubach, O.J. Simpson, Tony Dorsett, Earl Campbell, Marcus Allen and Barry Sanders are all in the Pro Football Hall of Fame and have received the honor of the Heisman. Honorable mention goes to Charles Woodson, who is still playing in the NFL and will likely see the Hall of Fame some day after he retires. Of course, when considering the Heisman winners, you must also consider Reggie Bush and O.J.Simpson. For very different reasons. Reggie Bush is infamous due to his involvement with gifts from a sports agent while he was in school. The NCAA is very strict about college athletes receiving any sort of gift while still in school and the organization struck his records from the record book - including his Heisman win. O.J. Simpson, however, is infamous for the murder trial of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ronald Goldman.

After he was acquitted, O.J. was involved in an armed robbery in a hotel. This earned him a prison sentence he is serving to this day. The Heisman is the measure of a college football player’s performance on the field, but that doesn’t mean those players don’t have demons. Some say the Heisman Trophy is a demon in itself, casting a curse on those who win it. (Oooooo!) The story is that whoever wins the Heisman Trophy either loses their postseason game, has a bad professional career, or both. There is no empirical or statistical evidence to support this claim, however there have been a few times it has proven true. Without going back too far, consider the past 15 winners: • In the past 15 years, eight players have gone on to lose their bowl games or championship games. • Six of the 15 winners have either had disappointing professional careers or didn’t make it to the NFL at all • The nine other players are still in the NFL and have the potential to prove the curse wrong. However, at least two of those players (Sam Bradford, Robert Griffin III) are close to playing their way out of the NFL.

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Still, the curse can hardly be considered truth. It all comes down to who plays the best, not how many awards a player gets. The Heisman Trophy is a famed and coveted award. Given by the Heisman Trust, the award “annually recognizes the outstanding college football player whose performance best exhibits the pursuit of excellence with integrity.” The players who strive for this award work hard to put themselves in the position to win it. Our own Leonard Fournette is one such player who has not held back his desire for the trophy. Barring a “curse”, whoever wins it will have a bright future ahead of them. In reality, rarely is it just one person who puts their team in a position to win and be outstanding. Leonard can’t run without a good offensive line. Roger Staubach had to have receivers to throw to. And Charles Woodson had to have a great defensive team around him to make the plays he did at Michigan. Don’t misunderstand me, I think the trophy is a great honor. And those who recognize their teams, their coaches, and everyone else around them know that the Heisman is so much more than a popularity contest. Now, if I can only work on that free rib deal... Hey, TJ Ribs - I gotta have something you can display in your restaurant!

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Television in the 1960’s Channel 4 WWL Channel 6 WDSU Channel 8 WVUE

When I think back about watching television in the early 60s, I start to laugh out loud. Not so much because of the slapstick comedy-sitcoms that were airing at that time, but more of what we had to endure just to watch television. First, the television itself. We never called it a TV. That came about years later. It was nothing more than a monstrous looking square box full of resistors, capacitors, and tubes. Unlike today, we could not hang it on the wall because it was a couple feet

At the Dunaway house, we had two styles of televisions during the 60s: A small table top, and a ferocious console which displayed every family member’s photo for the past 100 years sitting on top. I'm not sure which was the ugliest - the television or the aluminum frames that held the family treasures. Note what the inside of a 1960s television looked like.

thick and weighed a ton. So we put it on a turn table. The table in itself was as ugly as the television. Today’s kids wouldn’t have the foggiest idea what a turn table looked like. I hated the damn thing because, every time I got comfortable, Mom or Dad would ask me to turn the television a little. That kind of stuff went on all night long. Now, I want to talk about the worst television experiences in the history of television. That would

be the aerial antenna and those ridiculous rabbit ears. I’m not sure which one I hated the most. In my house, I was the official antenna technician, a job that was often held by the lowest-ranking family member, which was me. This job required that you understood which way was south, north, etc. We only had three channels 4, 6, and 8. It seemed like no matter which channel we watched, it was always snowing. You older folks know what kind of snow I’m referring to, don’t you?

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more bad words. By the time the smoke cleared and it was safe for me to go back in the living room, the funeral was over. My dad told me if I ever took the remote out of the room again, the next funeral we watched would be mine. Like everything else that went wrong at 307 Robert Street, it was my fault. The next time we got a remote, it was wireless. And guess who forever lost it? Payback was hell. Lucy and Ethel know exactly what to do in order to get a clear reception. Been there, done that. The foil on the antenna speaks for itself. If we wanted to watch Channel 4, I would have to go outside in rain, sleet or snow and turn the antenna due south towards New Orleans. Channel 6 needed a southwest direction and channel 8 was a southeast direction. How would you like to be the one twisting a metal antenna in the middle of a lighting storm? I did it many times. Because of the location of our television antenna, it really took three people to adjust the picture. As I twisted the antenna, someone would stand by the television and shout to someone else standing by the back door, who would then shout to me when we had clear reception. Looking back, it was hilarious to say the least. Then we had to deal with those useless and worthless rabbit ears. Whoever invented those should be persecuted. First of all, in order for them to work, you often had to wrap an entire roll of aluminum foil around the ears. If that didn’t work, you would then have to get creative. I once rolled out an eight-foot piece of foil and tied an aluminum pie pan to the end of it, then stretched it to the ceiling just to get clear reception. It was a hideous sight, but it worked. Sometime in the 1960s, we got our first color television. It was a beauty. It came with our first wired remote control. We were so excited. No more getting up to change the channel. However, the good ole remote turned out to be the number one cause of arguments and fights throughout the house. At least we didn’t have to worry about losing it. The only problem was the wire was too short to reach all areas of the living room. So, one day I decided to add some footage to it. It was around Thanksgiving 1963, and we were all watching President Kennedy’s funeral and I had the remote. It was one of those rare times when the entire family sat down together and watched television without any commotion. I needed to got to the bathroom but I didn’t want to lose control of the remote. So I brought it with me - all 40 feet of it. I wasn’t in there one minute when I heard something fall in the living room. It was followed by a whole lot of bad words. Sure enough, my dad tripped over the remote wire, causing the television to spin around on that raggedy turn table and subsequently knocking over a lamp. Needless to say, he yanked the remote wire out of the television, all along assaulting it with

For years, the only station in New Orleans was WDSU Channel 6. Since they were the only station in town, WDSU secured a strong bond with their viewers. However, the Jesuits of Loyola University, who had pioneered radio broadcasting in Louisiana as WWL Radio for many years, wanted to try and break that bond. On September 7, 1957, WWL had its first broadcast. Shortly afterwards came WVUE. ROMPER ROOM - DO BEES AND DON’T BEES If you were a little boy or girl back in the 1960s, you must have fallen in love with Miss Ginny and Miss Linda. Romper Room School House was a favorite for local preschoolers. It aired on television every morning. Miss Ginny (Virginia Carino) hosted the show at the beginning and later came Miss Linda (Linda Mintz). Miss Ginny started her career in New Orleans and was Romper Room’s teacher for nearly 10 years. She would welcome preschool aged kids to the studio for games, exercise, and lessons in anything from math and reading to table manners. Miss Ginny was most noted for teaching the children the ‘Do Bees’ and ‘Don’t Bees’. Do Be good boys and good girls for your parents - that was just one example she taught. She often used a large bumblebee hand puppet as a teaching aid. Each show began with the Jack-in-the-box theme of Pop Goes the Weasel.

Did Miss Linda ever see you in the mirror ? I waited three years and she never saw me.

My favorite Romper Room teacher was Miss Linda. Did miss Linda ever see you in the mirror? Remember how each Romper Room ended? “Romper bomper, stomper boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me do. Magic mirror tell me today, did my friends at home have fun at play?” She would call out the names of children she saw in ‘Television Land’ who had mailed in their names and were part of her home audience. UNCLE HENRY - POPEYE AND PALS Uncle Henry was every kids’ uncle. He will always be remembered for the Popeye and Pals television show. On the show, he often allowed the kids to introduce cartoon segments featuring Popeye the Sailor Man. The cartoon was one of my favorites. The story was about several interesting characters. Popeye himself was basically an odd-shaped fellow with funny arms and legs. Even though he could throw a good punch, he often got beat up - until he discovered that eating spinach gives

Mrs. Ginny teaching her guests the difference between “do bees” and “don’t bees”. 47

Uncle Henry, on the set of Popeye and Pals, poses before a huge cake of Popeye.

him super strength. Popeye’s girlfriend, Olive Oyl was often a target for Brutus’ affection. That never sat well with Popeye. Nearly every show, Brutus would beat up on Popeye until he was able to open a can of spinach. This prompted the song, “I’m strong to the finish because I eat my spinach - I’m Popeye the sailor man. Toot-toot!” Another Popeye saying was, “That’s all I can stands -I can’t stands no more!” He always said this just before he fought Brutus. Popeye had two other sayings that I distinctly remember... “Well, blow me down” and, of course, “shiver me timbers!”

would update his audience on the progress of his experiment. Years ago, my mom worked with a woman who was rather short and heavy. Out of thousands of women, she was chosen for Morgus’ newest experiment - the shrinking machine. We all sat around the television and watched Morgus put her in this shrinking capsule. Sure enough, after 30 seconds, she stepped out - slim and trim as a two by four. A few days later, my mom told me that several women had called the television station and begged to get in Morgus’ shrinking machine.

My favorite character was Wimpy, the local moocher. Wimpy loved hamburgers and always tried to trick people into buying him burgers. His favorite saying was, “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.” I watched so many of Uncle Henry’s shows that I was able to write this segment by memory. No research was required.

Morgus was said to have decended from a long line of scientists dating back to Morgus the First, who was the architect of the first pyramid in Egypt.

MORGUS THE MAGNIFICENT

I can assure you that every Saturday night at 10:30 I was in front of the television watching Morgus the Magnificent. Morgus was as much New Orleans as Mardi Gras. He was a mad scientist with crazed eyes, crooked teeth, unkempt hair, and always wore a filthy lab coat with a bloody hand print on the back. He also had an unusually large ego and a very sinister laugh. Morgus would come on intermittently during the Saturday late night horror shows. Most of the years on the show he was with his faithful, gullible, incompetent and clumsy lab assistant, Chopsley, who was always the guinea pig for his experiments. Morgus always told Choplsley not to worry, that he wouldn’t feel a thing. It was often said that many kids came home early from dates just to watch Morgus. I was too young for dates, but I never missed his show. Throughout the movie, the frazzled Morgus

Morgus mastered calculus at 5 years of age, and his mother and father (both scientists) sent him to Vasco Da Gama Medical School (the finest in the Caribbean), where he graduated with honors. He was reported to have an IQ in the 300’s. At an early age, he claimed to have read most of Plato’s dialogues. His inventions were numerous: The Morguaasal Perpetual Cardiomachine, guaranteed to make you live 200 years. The Morgusso Incizomachine, designed to make the scalpel a thing of the past. The Morgusotronic Electro-Celestial Inner-Communicator, which he developed back in the 60s, turned out to be the cell phone. Morgus even claimed it was he who invented the internet, not Al Gore. He also claimed it was he who discovered the speed of dark. He authored several books, including Molecules I Have Known and New Hope for the Dead. His name, Momus Alexander Morgus -Momus, for the god of ridicule; and Morgus, a combination of morgue and disgusting. Morgus was always upset that there was never a city landmark named after him. He wanted the 17th Street Canal renamed the Morgus Canal. Even though it was only a drainage canal, he said it carried the sweat of his labors. One of my favorite memories of Morgus was the weather forecast. Every weekday, just before the news, Morgus would consult his Morgusso Electromagnetic Weather Prognosticator, a clunky machine that rocked, smoked, made strange noises, and had a slot machine arm in the middle. Morgus would pull the arm and a voice would give the forecast. He was forever at conflict with the weather bureau and often ridiculed them by calling them a bunch of clowns. Did you ever wonder why Chopsley’s face was always covered and the poor man never talked? Well, the answer shouldn’t surprise you. Chopsley and Morgus went to medical school together and it was there that Morgus learned how to perform face transplants. Chopsley made a grave mistake in allowing Morgus to perform a face transplant on him. All went well until Chopsley laughed before his face was healed. The end result was horrifying. From that day on, Chopsley had to wear a full head mask at all times. Morgus had another assistant that I thought was pretty cool. His name was Eric, the talking skull. Apparently, when Eric died, Morgus preserved his brain and somehow re-attached it to his skull. Outside the la-bor-a-tree (as Morgus pronounced it), Morgus’ real-life name is Sid Noel. When not hidden under his face mask, Chopsley’s real-life name was Tommy George. In real-life, Tommy was a motorcycle police officer for the St. Bernard Sheriff ’s Office. Final note : Thank God for Cable Television!!

Two of the biggest stars of 1960s New Orleans television: Dr. Momus Alexander Morgus and his trusted sidekick Chopsley.

Resources and credits: Wikipedia, Images of America-New Orleans Television by Matt Rose, The Times Picayune, Tommy Dunaway, Zelda Winkler, and Elena Watson.

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