Slidell Magazine - 93rd Edition by Slidell Magazine

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Editor’s Letter

Kendra Maness

Editor/Publisher Slidell Magazine

As we enter into a new phase of Slidell leadership, I look back on this cover and smile. I’ve had the honor and privilege to work with each person pictured on this cover, and I’m grateful to have gotten to know them. Even more so, I am grateful for their service to our beloved Slidell. Five of the eight community leaders you see in this picture have moved forward to other positions or retirement, but their impact on our city, and on my life, cannot be overstated.

The picture above is the cover of the very first Slidell Magazine, published in June 2010. (Originally, I had cumbersomely named my new publication Northshore’s Slidell Guide Magazine.) At that time, I had a vision to start a fun, informative, and inspiring community magazine that highlighted the talents of our local visual and literary artists. I wanted the first cover to set my publication apart from the rest, to make a statement, to get attention. What better way to achieve that than to picture the 8 people that, in my opinion, best defined Slidell. Each of these local leaders stood for a separate, integral facet of our community: Education, government leadership, employment, faith and charity, medical excellence, business commerce, youth and sports, and public safety.

PO Box 4147 • Slidell, LA 70459

www.slidellmag.com 985-789-0687

Kendra Maness, Editor/Publisher Editor@slidellmag.com

Within the last two years, we have voted in a new Sheriff, after 19 years under the leadership of Jack Strain. We also voted in a new Slidell Police Chief to replace Randy Smith as he entered into his new role. Within the next few months, we will greet a new mayor and many new city council members who are tasked with leading our city to even greater things. We will meet the new CEO of SMH/Ochsner who will have very large shoes to fill to continue the excellence in leadership of our local healthcare system. We will have a new Chamber of Commerce CEO who will be challenged to effectively represent all of the businesses in East St. Tammany Parish. Indeed, Slidell leadership is changing and, honestly, I have trepidation. But it’s only because I’m comfortable. A little bit of discomfort is natural as we all adjust to our new community leaders. I’m excited for the opportunity to meet and befriend so many new faces. I’m even more excited about the growth that can come from change. Thank you to Mayor Freddy Drennan, our former city council members, Bill Davis, and Dawn Sharpe for your friendship and leadership. You will all be missed. From Spanky, thank you. Hugs.

Devin Reeson - Graphic Designer Graphics@slidellmag.com CONTRIBUTING WRITERS EFOP, Kathleen DesHotel The Storyteller, John Case Pet Points, Jeff Perret, DVM This Month in History, Dawn Rivera Cajun Commissary,Storm Series: Part 6 of 12, Donna Bush Crimmi-Mommly Insane, Leslie Gates Leadership Northshore, Kendra Maness Focus on Faith, Rev. W.C. Paysse Legal-Ease, Ronda M. Gabb Making Cents of Your Money, Mike Rich Camellia City Kids Fest, Alex Carollo The Purse, Rose Marie Sand

Cover: “Heads or Tails” by Mary Christopher

Cover Artist mary christopher Mary Christopher is an artist and retired art teacher. She received a Bachelor of Art Education from Oklahoma State University in 1977 and later earned a Masters in Management and Supervision from Central Michigan University. Christopher has worked in a variety of fields and positions including social work, volunteer management, marketing, business development and advertising, while raising three sons with her husband Joe. After decades of not picking up a paint brush, she made the decision to go back to Plan A, and was hired on as the art teacher at Cypress Cove Elementary where she rekindled and explored her first love, art. She worked at Cypress Cove Elementary for 10 years until her retirement in 2016. As a member of the Slidell Art League, Christopher was inspired to compete in artist of the month competitions, which she credits for developing her drive and skill as a born again artist. She was selected as the art league’s Master Artist of the Year in 2010, the same year she was chosen as the Cypress Cove Elementary Teacher of the Year. She has participated in and won awards in many local art competitions, and enjoys working in oil, acrylic, stained glass and clay. Organizations and awards Ms. Christopher has been affiliated with over the years include the Slidell Commission on the Arts, Leadership Northshore: Community Steward Award, Mental Health Association: Volunteer of the Year, Slidell Art League: SAL for Teens Chair, the Slidell Planning and Zoning Board, the Slidell Junior Auxiliary, American Association of University Women, American Heart Association, and the Slidell Symphony Society. She was selected as the Educator of Distinction at Cypress Cove Elementary 2012/2013.

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APRIL 2018

Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” People

Gary Gilmore by Kathleen DesHotel

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. ~ Albert Einstein

hen the term “Jack of all trades” comes up, Gary Gilmore comes to mind for most who know him. Although the term usually includes “and a master of none,” this is not the case for Gary. He has been employed in several areas of construction, worked as a burger flipper, a pizza boy, a cable guy, a grass cutter, a landscaper and more. He also worked on a big boat offshore and on a little boat as a shrimper. Gary explains, “I have walked away from more jobs than most people ever had; yet, I have never been fired. It didn’t matter the job, I always gave 100% until I was done. I couldn’t let a job define me. I am not just one thing!” Now in what he describes as a dream job, he is a boat captain for Cajun Encounters. “I love my home and love sharing it. I meet new people every day from everywhere!” he explains. Being a child of Slidell along Indian Village Road, life has been all about the waterways.

“When my dad got in the boat, I got in the boat.” His dad was a welder. When he was laid off a job, the family survived by fishing and selling the catfish they caught. “Times were tough, and the people were tough. Yet, I learned that if I wanted something I had to learn to create it or do it myself.” He gained a commitment to do well and to survive during a struggle. This came with a certain false bravado which can affect a young guy to feel like a grown man. Consequently, by the time Gary was 19, he was married and already had two children. Not surprisingly, the marriage ended badly. His wife left with their two children. Gary had no idea where they were. This led to what he describes as a “dark period” in his life where he turned to alcohol. "Many people worried about me, but I told them, 'I am a man. I can handle it.'" After five years, he discovered the location of his children, Ashley and Logan, and it took another two years to get to see them, seven years of darkness.

He drove 1900 miles to Ohio in order to reestablish a relationship with them after such a long absence. “Foolishly, I ran from an unhappy childhood into an equally unhappy marriage. The greatest part of that marriage was getting two beautiful children. After I lost contact with my kids, I was in a very bad place for a long time. I made a lot of excuses and repeatedly asked, ‘Why me?’ but I was a ‘man’ who hid how devastated I was. The absence of my children in my daily life made days unbearable. Without them to anchor me, I was lost. My children were my reason to get up and try; without them I lost all reason,” he shared. Eventually, he tenaciously worked to have them all be part of each other’s lives. Meeting Ashley Needom opened another positive avenue to brighten his path. “She knows me better than anyone, and she accepts me for who I am,” he explained. “I stopped drinking because I wanted to be a better person for everyone who mattered to me.”

Ashley describes Gary, “He has a great personality and is great to be around. He is fun-loving, loyal, sometimes crazy, but overall caring and giving. Gary is a wonderful father and husband. He always makes sure he is there for us. I was attracted to him because of how deeply he loves. He’s come far. When we first met, he was struggling for a footing in life. I saw something good and was attracted. In the beginning our road was bumpy, but our deep love supported us.” He returns the compliments in bragging about his wife and telling the story of their wedding. “We were on a vacation with my kids in Pigeon Forge, TN and we came upon a drive-thru marriage center.” It was advertised as a fast and fun way to get married and provide a unique experience. Ashley said, “Oh look, there’s one of those wedding places that we saw the last time we came here,” and she asked him if he wanted to get married. The rest is history! Once they exchanged their vows, they went to have their wedding picture taken dressed up in Western attire. “July 28, 2006, was a happy day for us. We are a little crazy and a little wonderful. That’s how we roll. I had everyone I loved with me. Ashley accepted my kids, and I loved them all,” Gary reminisces. The two have one son together. Trenton is an amazing 12 year old who participates

L-r: The Gilmore family: Gary, sons Trenton and Logan, wife Ashley Needom Gilmore, and daughter Ashley in gymnastics, acting, art, and building things with both his grandfathers. With Gary’s dad, Trenton recently took a road trip to Gulfport, MS to show the vehicle made of many parts of junked cars and formed into one new vehicle. Gary collected the parts, and his dad put them together to create a Rat Rod for the Atomic Blast show, all so Trenton could see how to make something out of nothing while spending as little as possible. With Trenton’s other grandfather, artist Martin Needom, Thursdays after school and all day in the summer is always a

magical day for the pair. Martin and Susan Needom are both artists and retired teachers. Hence, Trenton spends the first part of the day doing academic studies with Susan and the second part of the day making creations. Gary praises them with appreciation for all that they have shared with his son, “They are wonderful people.” Recently Trenton became a fan of the program “Forged in Steel” on the History Channel. He proposed making such blades with his grandpa. Not willing to work with actual metal, instead they collaborated to create a wooden sword. Gary said, “It was so fantastic, I couldn’t believe the two had actually made it.” His father-in-law praises Gary, “He’s a great father and husband who is an intelligent, talented, hard worker and problem solver. His interests are broad, from the swamp to performances on the SLT stage. He appreciates art, music, theater, and building a truck on a chassis he’s assembling.” Susan Needom adds that he is perceptive of other’s feelings. She adds, “He, Ashley, and Trenton are all personable and easily make friends. All three of them are great storytellers.”

Gary (and friend) for his role in “Avenue Q” at Slidell Little Theatre

Gary received the Ginny Award for best supporting actor in a musical

Gary’s family is his motivation in life. Because of his son he tried out for a part 7

On a tour, alligators respond to calls and approach the boat for passengers to watch.

Gary's dream job - boat captain and tour guide where he communes with nature.

in a play at Slidell Little Theatre, having never acted before. “We want our son to go places. He has acted, done art, and taken gymnastics. He even got a first place award on the rings." When his dad asked if he was anxious to share the news with his classmates, Trenton said that he would keep that to himself because his classmates made fun of him for the things he does, and they call him a sissy for acting on stage.

“I have struggled most of my life. Everyone has a story. Some are good, some bad. My past is a dismal story, but now at 41, I am in a good place. August made fifteen years sober for me. I have a wonderful wife, terrific children, and three beautiful granddaughters. I like to contribute to my family and my community and am pretty thrilled to be on the SLT board where I can have a voice,” he explained.

Gary thought the matter over and decided to prove that he could act on stage too. So, he tried out for a part. “I didn’t get it because I was terrible,” he laughed. Undaunted, he tried out for another part in “Avenue Q,” a play that challenged the actors to perform with puppets. He got the part! Then he landed the big part of Dave Fox in “Good Ole Fashioned Redneck Country Christmas” and won a Ginny Award as Best Supporting Actor in a Musical for his work. “I was amazed and thought that I had proven a point to Trenton’s classmates. The only reason I did this was because of that kid.”

“On top of all that, I love my job.” He met the owner of Cajun Encounters, Jeff Rogers who was a friend of his, and Rogers invited him to work as a boat captain taking people on tours. Anyone who has been on a tour with him has met alligators that answer his call. He knows their personalities and tells stories about them. He also greets a gigantic pig that he named Princess. When he calls her, she grunts and snorts as she and her piglets hustle out of the swamp to respond to his chatter. He shares knowledge of the river, swamp, animals, trees, and vegetation with his passengers.

A wild pig that Gary named Princess comes running to shore when he calls her name.

For Gary, the experience is less like work and more like communing with nature. He does the work systematically while feeling the environment. “Even as a kid, I’d shut my mind down and only allow in the birds, water bugs, fish bubbles, and the breeze in the trees on shore,” he reminisced. “I can remember riding my bike as a kid with my fishing pole across my handlebars. This is my home, and I love sharing it. People respond. I’ve always found if I’m nice to people, surprisingly, most are nice right back,” he says. Gary Gilmore struggles to describe himself and, at first, laughs and says that he is tall, dark, and handsome. Then he reconsiders and compares himself to a burnt marshmallow, “I’m dark and gnarled on the outside but mushy and delightful on the inside. Actually, I am at a stage in life where anyone can love me or dislike me. I’m not letting it affect me because I have a bright future with a wonderful family.”

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LT. RAY DUPUY MEMORIAL LIBRARY

LEADERSHIP LEADERSHIP NORTHSHORE NORTHSHORE Established Established in in 1990

T .

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LA T. RAY DUPUY R Y DUPUY

E M O R MEMO IR I A A L L I BL RARY

E A M MB E M B EE RS M E TM R S

TAMIE MICHAEL DR. RAPHAEL DR. RAPHAEL MARTIN BELL TILLMAN TILLMAN

ROBERTA REV. JOHN ROBERTA CARROW JACKSON RAYMOND CARROW JACKSON

TN E A M MT ENTO RS O R S The M Lt. RayE Dupuy Memorial Library isY a SW Senior Spring Fling Celebration, Slidell BILL SHIPLEY SANDY SWARTZ SAND ARTZ project created by members of the 2018 Jazz and Blues Festival and the Camellia class of Leadership Northshore. Now City Kids Fun Fest, to name only a few. in its twenty-seventh year, Leadership The Lt. Ray Dupuy Memorial Library Northshore is an innovative program team is comprised of five dedicated designed to prepare individuals and members, each bringing a different emerging leaders for leadership set of skills and life experiences to the positions in local government, business, completion and success of the project: and community affairs. Leadership • Michael Bell, owner of Menu Surgeon Northshore is directed by a Board of Marketing Company Trustees of community leaders. The purpose of the program is to provide a forum for and increase the awareness of potential leaders by giving them an intense course which encompasses a broad scope of community concerns while providing leadership and effective communication skills.

Community projects are an essential part of the Leadership Northshore curriculum. Each year, the class is divided into small project teams. Each group is responsible for finding a community need or cause and addressing those issues with a project. Former Leadership projects include the Camellia City Bark Park dog park, Pelicans on Parade public art project, Heritage Park playground, Slidell Movie Nights, Bring it Home Northshore, the 10

L I B R A R Y

REV. JOHN RAYMOND

• Tamie Martin, who is employed with St. Tammany Parish Library at the South Branch location on Pontchartrain Drive in Slidell • Rev. John Raymond, Pastor of New Horizon Church and General Manager of The Bridge Radio • Dr. Raphael Tillman, a Supervisor of Administration at the St. Tammany Parish School Board

• Roberta Carrow Jackson of the St. Tammany Tourist & Convention Commission The idea for this project came about easily, through a conversation Tamie had with police officers Kevin Swann and Rocky McLellan, who work details at the southside library branch every afternoon.

WEBSITE DIDN’T ? D E N N A L P S A O G

“The officers work details here, so you get to talk with them. I told Kevin Swann that I was doing Leadership this year and I knew that he had gone through the program. I found out that he was actually on the board of directors. He and Rocky said, ‘We have a great Leadership project for you guys to consider.’”

this is going to be great!!!

Roberta explains the project details, “We want to install a lending library at the Slidell City Jail for people who are there temporarily and for the Department of Corrections offenders who are stationed in Slidell longer term. They haven’t had a library of any type, so our goal was to put together a space which included the shelving as well. About 700 books, with the goal to collect 1000. We will go through them and sort them to insure that we don’t have any duplicates, to make sure the books are in good shape, and to make sure that the reading material is appropriate for offenders to read.” Books can include fiction, non-fiction, educational materials, books that will help offenders obtain their GEDs, law materials, religious texts, philosophy books and more. Roberta says, "We hope to have a broad spectrum of reading materials, whether it's something just to pass the time, or an offender wants to work on really rehabilitating their life." As a member of the schoolboard administration, Raphael says, “From the start, this project was right up my alley because it’s education. Our team is all about educating those who were not educated previously, to get them to the point that they can do something positive while incarcerated and after they get out." Raphael continues, "I spoke to librarians, and the administrative staff at the school board who oversee the libraries, and got their feedback. We got two pallets of books from them because they were all duplicates. I didn’t expect that!" Tamie notes, "During the Leadership program, we visited other jails that had similar programs. But there was a real need for one in Slidell. We're not asking for money, just books. We even have the Shop Department of Northshore High School who are going to build the shelves for free." The area in the jail that will become the library is an office that is currently being used as a storage house. Once cleaned out, the shop students at Northshore High School will build the book shelves

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to the specifications that the Leadership Team has provided. "Once it is built, we will have one of the offenders trained to manage the library," Tamie explains. "Some offenders can go in and choose the materials that they want themselves; but the offender in charge will be trained so he can go into the library and retrieve the books that are requested from a list." According to the Slidell Police Department, there are 10 Department of Corrections offenders housed at the jail fulltime, and an average of about 20 arrests a day coming through their facility. Tamie says, "Those people are there for 24-48 hours, waiting for bail or a transfer. So there are different needs. There’s a need for that person who just wants a crossword puzzle, or a Bible to read today, and then there’s the person who has the time to read all of John Grisham’s works."

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As a pastor, John Raymond brings a unique perspective to the team project, "Churches are a place where people can donate books, either through the congregations or dropped off from the public. The pastors of the local churches all feel that this is a great project. Two of the things in life that really determine how far you will go are character and communication. If you have bad character, but you have good communication skills, that can only lead you so far. Conversely, if you have good character and bad communication, you’re still limited. If we can help get the right kind of reading material into the hands of the people that are in this temporary place, where they can develop their communication skills and build their character at the same time, we think that ultimately, we can help change some lives. That’s what we really want to help do." Mike Bell has headed up the project's marketing since its inception. "I’ve been hitting hard on Facebook, trying to get donations, then I’ll go personally pick them up. I’ve also concentrated on informing people about the program and where they can donate." In addition, Mike posts pictures of the books that are being donating to help give the public ideas of the types of materials that the library needs. The team attends every local event and visits every group possible, spreading the word about their project and collecting donated books. One of the requirements of a Leadership project is to have a transition plan. This enables the project work to continue even after the teams have graduated. Tamie notes that, once an offender is trained to run the jail library, the library can be sustained in-house and through continued donations. "There are ethics laws on how we [the public library and public school

systems] can dispose of books because there are tax payer dollars at stake. In order to keep the books fresh, one of the ways that the public libraries can dispose of books is to give them to the jail facilities." Mike says, "If this project is successful, we hope to establish a library at the Pearl River Jail as well. Once we have two libraries established, we can start transferring books back and forth between the two." Even after the transition period and graduation, the team vows to stay dedicated to the project. Roberta says, "Once the library is installed, we’re hoping that the next phase of this project is going to be offenders that have children reading from books and making a recordings to give to their children." The Leadership library project is named for Lt. Ray Dupuy, who passed away last year. Ray worked with the Slidell Police Department and also graduated from Leadership Northshore three years ago. Although his project team formed the very successful Camellia City Kids Fun Fest, his original project idea for his group was a library in the Slidell Jail. Michael says, "It makes us all feel good that we can name this library in Lt. Dupuy's memory, especially once we found out that he wanted to have one at the jail."

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The group pointed out that, in addition to memorializing Lt. Dupuy, there are many positive things that can come from the library. In addition to education and learning, the library offers behavior control and peaceful past times for the offenders. It's a win-win for everyone. As our interview ended, Tamie quotes a country singer, "The only thing that's going to save the human race is the human race." Indeed! Donated books can be dropped off at the St. Tammany Parish Library, Pontchartrain Drive branch. Hours are Mon-Thurs: 9am-8pm and Fri-Sat: 9-5

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Storyteller POW Lillian thought it might be the thing she needed to do. She had not had any desire to see anyone or do anything since the telegram arrived. She wanted to vent her anger but, so far, the only recipient of her wrath was her father. She had moved back home a few days after she got the telegram. Her mom had passed away the year before, so she thought moving home was the right thing to do. That was six months ago. She read the telegram again, as she had at least a dozen times a day since it arrived.

on her body due to her weight loss. She had no appetite. She didn’t put on any makeup or fix her face, as she called it. Why should she? She had no one to look good for. She just wanted to be there when they arrived.

Her only regret was that the POWs arriving would be German, not Japanese. The Japanese were the guilty ones, the ones who had torpedoed her husband’s ship. Come to think of it, she had friends whose husbands had been killed by the Nazis. She would hate them all.

The crowd that lined up on Union Street was three deep. Even the Christmas parades in the heart of town had not drawn this large a crowd. She could not get as close as she wished. Sounds of disapproval could be heard a half-mile away, as the trucks rolled into town. They were riding on the beds of military trucks, with as many guards as there were prisoners. Each prisoner wore a shirt printed with three letters, POW.

The POWs were to arrive that afternoon. The barracks had been built on Union Street, and the POWs were being sent from Camp Shelby. Only a few people wanted them in the community, since they were viewed to be Nazi butchers. There was

Somehow, she hoped her grief would cast a spell on each and every one of them. Maybe a tree would fall on them or a horse would kick one to death. Maybe her presence would at least make them uncomfortable.

an argument for their presence, however; there was a shortage of men. Most of the local men were overseas. Her man was dead. The farmers needed laborers. The sawmills needed lumberjacks. She dressed in something other than her house clothes for the first time since she had been informed of her husband’s death. Her dress hung loosely

She was disappointed. They looked just like the people that lived around her. She had so much hoped

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they would carry some distinguishing feature, like the Japanese. She could certainly hate the Japanese, they looked different; but these people, they looked normal. Her demeanor changed from contempt to something less when one of the prisoners smiled down at her. Blond hair and shiny white teeth made him stand out from all the other captives she could see on the truck. She felt his eyes focus on her as the truck took a right turn to enter the compound. Something about him she would tolerate, but she could still hate the others. ********** The war had generated a demand for crops that did not correlate to the manpower available to produce them. There were no ablebodied men in the county. They were in, or would be in, such places as Burma, Iwo Jima, North Africa, and Tarawa. The shortage of manpower was a hinderance to the war effort. The Geneva Convention allowed POWs to be employed, but not in an effort that would directly benefit the Allies. Agriculture was deemed eligible employment.

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Her father asked her to help fill out the paperwork to requisition a POW field hand. She did, and she accompanied her father to the camp where they met the lieutenant in charge. He told them he would bring up several of the POWs for them to interview. There was a translator present.

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The third person interviewed was the blond, shiny-toothed German she had seen on the truck a few days before. He stood out from the rest, but he made her feel uncomfortable. It was as if he could see right through her. Even with those misgivings, she couldn’t deny an attraction to him.

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“Dad, I think we should try this one.” “What’s his name?” her father asked. The translator spoke up. “Reinhardt Hessing, Sir.” Her father replied, “Have him at my place in the morning, 6am.” ********** The lieutenant gave them a pamphlet with English words and their German translations. That night, Lillian and her father stayed up late learning the words and phrases they thought would be necessary to gainfully employ the POW. When daylight came and Mr. Hamilton went outside, Reinhardt was waiting on the porch. Mr. Hamilton was proud to address him with “guten morgen,” the “good morning” greeting he had learned the night before. Reinhardt answered with almost no accent, “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton, and how are you today?” “You speak English?” “Yes, Sir. I was in school in England prior to 1939, before I was called home.” “Gee, Lillian will be surprised.” “Lillian? Who is Lillian?” “That is my daughter. You met her yesterday.” ********** Mr. Hamilton explained to Reinhardt that the military had agreed to buy all the cotton he could raise. In fact, they insisted that he plant all 310 acres in cotton, but he could not do that; he had to have some land for hay and corn to feed the livestock. He explained

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that it was April 1st and the crops, especially the cotton, should be in the ground by April 15th. That did not give them much time. They could break the ground with a disc and tractor if they could get a special allotment to buy gasoline. They were promised it would be available, but the government did not always come through on such promises. After all, there was a war going on. After the land was broken with the disc, it had to be plowed with mules. Mr. Hamilton had four mules. Could Reinhardt plow a mule? If he could not, he would have to learn. Mr. Hamilton could probably get Levi to help if his arthritis was not too bad. Levi had worked for Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Hamilton’s father for fifty years. He still lived on the place but was eighty-one years old. Mr. Hamilton, himself, would plow the third mule; and, as bad as he hated to have to ask her, Lillian would have to plow the fourth.

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Lillian had never plowed before, but she was good with animals. She still had her saddle horse, Juice, who followed her like a pet dog. She had not ridden him lately because her grief and reclusiveness had consumed her. Still, she managed to make a trip to Juice’s stall every day for a treat of an extra ear of corn or a few sugar cubes. That is where she had her first conversation with Reinhardt.

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Careful not to infringe on her territory, he said, “I like horses too. In England, I worked on an estate where the owner liked to fox hunt. I took care of his horses. I miss them.”

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As expected, after two days with the tractor, there would be no more gasoline for three days. This made the April 15th deadline almost impossible. Finally, the gasoline arrived, the disc work was finished, and the four began to plow. Lillian and Reinhardt plowed with equal degrees of inefficiency. Their work was flawed with crooked rows, inconsistent depth, and improper banking; but Reinhardt worked hard. If Lillian’s plow got caught under a root and she lacked the strength to free it, he would rush to her aid. Other than that, there was little conversation between them. ********** Mr. Hamilton took his hat off and wiped the perspiration from his almost-bald head. It was the 8th of April. Maybe missing the deadline by two or three days would not be the end of the world? It would have to do, because he saw no way to finish in time. He needed more people efficiently plowing, but he had no one else capable of the task and no more mules even if he’d had the warm bodies to guide them. Could they work longer hours? That afternoon, he drove Reinhardt back to the camp, where he asked for permission to have him work longer hours. He was told that ten hours was all that was allowed under the Convention, unless the prisoner had no objection. Knowing the prisoners were being paid a small stipend, the lieutenant suggested that more money might entice Reinhardt to work longer hours. As the negotiations proceeded, Reinhardt’s meager wages would be raised 50%. Mr. Hamilton did not know that Reinhardt would have worked the extra hours for nothing. There was only one other requirement of the employment agreement. Reinhardt would have to stay with the Hamiltons, and only report back to the camp on weekends. The security gate would not be manned that late at night. Mr. Hamilton suggested that there was a place in the barn that could be converted into comfortable quarters. **********

As the deadline approached, Lillian was no longer able to make her visits to the stable to give Juice his treats. She was too busy following the mule. Jealous, Juice would watch for any opportunity to burst onto the plowed field and attempt to disrupt Lillian’s plowing. Finally, he had to be confined to a pen surrounded by barbed wire.

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They did not make the deadline, but they were close. By midafternoon on April 21st, the crops were planted. To celebrate, Lillian decided to ride Juice. It would be the first time he had been saddled in eight months. When she bridled him and went to put the saddle blanket on, she noticed a cut in his rear left flank. She could not believe she had not seen it. It was a serious cut and must have been caused by the barbed wire. It appeared to be infected too. She decided not to saddle him that day. The next day, the cut was more infected; the next, even worse.

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Lillian knew that the local veterinarian had been drafted into the Army. There was one vet who covered four counties, but he would not come to treat a saddle horse; only work horses, mules, and cattle, stock that could aid the war effort. She realized that Juice’s days might be limited. Mr. Hamilton and she agreed if he was not better by the following day, it would be time to put him down. Juice was like a member of the family, and Mr. Hamilton dreaded the thought of having to pull the trigger. He turned to Reinhardt, dismissing the employment restriction that a POW was never to have access to firearms. Even knowing that, Mr. Hamilton trusted Reinhardt. He would ask him to put Juice out of his misery. The next morning, Lillian went to the stable. As she had feared, Juice was even weaker. He was lying down, she could tell that his fever was higher, and his gums were almost white. She knew it was time. When she turned and stood up, her father was behind her, holding the pistol.

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“Go inside, sweetheart. I will get Reinhardt,” he said. “No, I want to be with Juice to the end. We have been together since I was eight years old.” In few minutes, Mr. Hamilton reappeared with Reinhardt. He extended the pistol to Reinhardt, but Reinhardt refused to take it. Instead, he walked to Juice and rubbed him with long solid strokes. All the time, he was inspecting the cut. “I can save this animal,” he said. “Get me some sulfur, lime, and motor oil. But first, get me some warm water.” Reinhardt bathed the cut, which was deeper and more putrid inside than he had realized. He began to have his doubts, but did not let on to Lillian. After he had finished cleansing and packing the cut, he made sure that Juice had access to water, hay, and oats. He then said, “Morgen ist auch noch ein Tag.”

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Realizing they did not understand, he repeated, “Tomorrow is another day.” ********** It was a slow recovery, but Juice did get well. Reinhardt had certainly climbed a step in the eyes of the Hamilton family. Lillian, especially, realized that she had no more hate for him, and less hate for the other German POWs she saw from time to time. You could say there was a certain unspoken friendship between her and Reinhardt, but still she kept her distance. He, too, did not pursue what would have been an improper, if not potentially dangerous, relationship. 19

One afternoon, on a cool but comfortable day in early October, she sat on the front porch swing. He came, sat on the porch not far from the swing, and started the conversation. “I gather, your husband has been killed in the war? Am I correct?” “Yes, in the Pacific. I don’t know the details. To my knowledge, his body was not recovered. I don’t know much about it.” “That’s the toughest part, isn’t it?” “What is the toughest part?” “Not recovering the body.” “Yes.” There was a pause that seemed very awkward. Finally, he said, “I know. The building my wife and son were in was obliterated by a fire bomb. No remains of anyone were found.” For the first time, she felt guilty for believing that only Americans could feel the pain of loss. Germany was a land of husbands, wives, sons, and daughters. Certainly, they loved each other. Why had she been so selfish? ********** That was only the first personal conversation they had. There would be many more, but they were never lovers. She would not let them be. After

all, she still grieved, and he was still the enemy. The war ended. The day he left was a sad time. She cried, and gave him a big hug, almost a passionate one. She assumed that he was on his way home to Germany. That was not the case. Nine months later, they got their first letter from him. He was in England, where the POWs had been forced to go to help clean up the damage that had occurred during the war. Subsequent letters revealed that he did not get home until late 1946. There were sporadic letters between them over the years that followed. In 1954, she wrote to inform Reinhardt that her husband’s body had been repatriated and that they had held a big funeral. He answered, telling her that he was pleased to know that she had found closure. He wrote that he too had found closure, but he did not elaborate. ********** In 1970, after not having heard from Reinhardt in several years, she got a phone call. He was working for Volkswagen in Germany and was scheduled to meet with Volkswagens of America in New Orleans. He was en route to Memphis and wanted to visit. He would be there in two hours. There was no time to go to the beauty salon or buy a new dress. She would have to make well enough do. Looking in the mirror, she wanted

to think she did not look bad. After all, she was 49 years old. She comforted herself, knowing he was about the same age. There had been a few men in her life, but she had never been able to move beyond the shadows of her husband; and next to him, in her heart, Reinhardt. Just as he had healed Juice, he had helped heal her, though she had never told him or admitted it to herself. Today she would. ********** Slowly, the car wound its way up the drive. She stood on the porch, the same porch with the swing where he had told her about his wife and child. The anticipation of his arrival was the most exciting thing she had experienced in years. The car came to a stop and the driver’s side door opened. He emerged. Yes, those same good looks and those shiny teeth. Then the passenger door opened, and an equally beautiful blonde woman emerged. Next, the rear door opened, and a teenager stepped forth. Reinhardt walked to Lillian and hugged her. “Lillian, I want you to meet my wife, Helga. I also want you to meet my daughter. Her name is Lillian.”

John S. Case April 2018

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Of Your Money

By Mike Rich, CFP®

Pontchartrain Investment Management

Financial planning: It’s worth your time. During Mardi Gras week this past February, Mary and I travelled to Disney World with our daughter Betsy and her family. Here’s a picture of us with that mouse guy they have over there. We had a great time during our vacation. The weather was perfect, the crowds were not too bad, and the entire Disney experience – friendly employees, impeccably clean grounds, fun attractions, and interesting people-watching – was marvelous. Hands down, the most awesome time we had was during the Avatar Flight of Passage in Pandora at Disney’s Animal Kingdom. To borrow a phrase from my granddaughters, OMG! To call it a “ride” is the understatement of the century, so I’ll say simply that the experience was about four minutes of wonder, terror, smells, sounds, speed, exhilaration, 3-D artistry times ten, and, and…well, I’ve run out of superlatives to explain it. Just so you know, my wife Mary kept her eyes closed during most of it. Poor thing. Some heavy stuff was laid down on us, and she missed it.

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Months before we travelled to Disney for our vacation, Betsy had obtained FastPasses for Avatar. Those are the special tickets that let you bypass the long waiting lines. Thank goodness we had them! When we arrived at the attraction at our reserved time, the wait was approximately four hours long. Yes, you read that right. Four hours. One-half of a typical workday. For us, however, it took only about 15 minutes to get in. It was like scoring backstage passes to see Justin Timberlake, Drew Brees, and the Pope, and getting free beer, all at one time. After our Avatar experience, and as I was trying to get my blood pressure back down to heart attack level, I started thinking about that four-hour line. How many people, I thought, would spend four hours with an advisor to work on a plan for long-term financial security? Yes, it’s kind of a strange thought to have at Disney World, but I think it’s the reality of our American culture. Many of us probably spend more time planning our vacations, choosing which new car to buy, watching reality shows on TV, eating

dinner out, and, yes, standing in line for four hours for a four-minute ride on an amusement park attraction, than we spend working on what is arguably one of the most important things we could possibly do – making a plan to work towards financial security. Don’t be one of those people! I’ll admit: when I work with clients who are serious about working toward financial security, it takes some time. It’s not unusual for us to have three or four ninety-minute meetings, or more. However, the results, I think, are worth it. Some of my clients have told me that, with a sound financial plan in place, life seems to get a whole lot easier. So, if you decide to meet with me and spend some of your time to get financially healthy, here are a few things we might do: 1. WE’LL TALK ABOUT YOUR DESIRED RETIREMENT INCOME. Even if the big day is many years off, I can help you with some ballpark numbers. When we have that number, we can come up with a realistic strategy to help you get there.

2. WE WILL THINK ABOUT HOW TO DEAL WITH BAD THINGS WHEN THEY HAPPEN. If you have a spouse or children at home, you need life insurance, and as much as you can get. If your family depends on your salary, you need disability insurance to make sure your income continues if you can’t work. Make sure these things are in place so an unexpected event doesn’t destroy your money life. The same thing goes for your car and home insurance. 3. IF YOU HAVE KIDS, WE WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO PAY FOR THEIR EDUCATION. Our trip to Disney World set us back a few thousand dollars, but it’s nothing compared to the cost of college tuition and fees. Even with TOPS, scholarships, and financial aid, parents are shelling out a lot of money. Saving money for college is easy to figure out, but the secret is in starting early. I can help you with your plan.

Unless you and your bank account are ready and willing to shell out $3,000$6,000 a month or more for someone to take care of you if you can’t do it yourself, you must have a strategy for protecting your money. My guess is that you’d rather spend your money on something fun. In my opinion, this is going to be THE ISSUE for baby boomers. About 70% of us are going to need some type of long term care.1 Seven out of ten people, and you are likely to be one of them. Call me now, make an appointment, and let me help you figure out what might work for you. Although I think my office is a pretty cool place, a trip over here for a meeting with me to start working on your financial plan probably won’t be as much fun as a Disney World vacation. However, my guess is that there aren’t many experiences around that would be much fun at all if you don’t have enough money. So, why not set aside some time to meet with me and take charge of your financial future? Call me.

4. IF YOU ARE IN YOUR 50s OR 60s, WE WILL DEVISE A STRATEGY TO HELP YOU PAY FOR LONG TERM CARE EXPENSES.

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ting t fi e Ben

g Camellia City n i tt ng

Kids FunCamellia Fest

i fi t e t n fi e e B n Be

In Memo ry of Lt. Ray D upuy

KidsCamelliaFunC Kids Fun F

Saturday, April 28, 2018

g n i t n t i t fi t eB neB enefi

Heritage Park • 10am - 6pm

www.CamelliaCityKidsFunFest.com

Saturday, April 28, 2018 * Heritage Park The third annual Camellia City Kids Fun Fest, one of the largest children’s festivals on the northshore, will take place on Saturday, April 28, from 10am - 6pm in Slidell’s Heritage Park. Admission is $5 per person and all activities are included. Proceeds benefit Riley’s Bikes, a local charity that provides customized bikes for children with special needs.

Mart Supercenter where Dupuy worked security detail, to decal stickers on the rear windows of vehicles. A lot was lost that night in September, but Ray’s legacy of community service lives on in his family, friends and coworkers.

Camellia City

Kids Fun Fest

team mates and a founding member of 28, 2018 about the festival. “He wasApril passionate kids, the community and this event. We are honored to continue to work with his wife Connie and his son Ray, and we want to continue to honor Ray and his legacy.”

10 am-6 pm * $5 Admission (includes all activities) Inflatables * Games * Pony Rides * Petting Zoo * Entertainment “Ray really kids. He and his Lucky Ducky Duck Race * Food & enjoyed Drinks & Crafts * Arts

Leadership Northshore team wanted to do “Ray always had a smile on his face and Singing Showdown registration at 11am, competition at 12pm a children’s festival that was affordable, was always willing to help,” reminisces Military Appreciation - Show ID receive free This year’s Kids Fest will be a bittersweet that and way large families2like oursfood could tickets! Jeannie Vicari, also a Leadership alum event, as it is being held in memory of Lt. Ray Dupuy, who was one of the founding members of the festival. On September 20, 2017, Lt. Dupuy, a Shift Supervisor in the Patrol Division of the Slidell Police Department, died tragically in a motorcycle accident. As news spread throughout the community, Slidell was in mourning. Memorials popped up all over town, from the Wal-

attend,” said Ray’s wife, Connie Dupuy. his Leadership team and their project and I enjoyed volunteering each year. We loved seeing the families in Heritage Park and all the kids having fun. We were all about the kids.”

loved Danny“Ray Boudreaux

“Ray was irreplaceable and imperative to the success of the Camellia City Kids Fun Fest,” remembers Kelly Burdett, one of Dupuy’s Leadership Northshore

and founding member of the fest. “Boy do I miss him. We were such a great team.” “Kids Fest” by John , STAR One of the highlights of this year’s event C Artis will be the Lucky Ducky Duck Race, presented by the Rotary Club of Slidell. Tickets for this fun-raising duck race will be sold at the festival for $10 each or 3 tickets for $25. The numbers on the tickets coincide with the numbers on

4 pm • Win $500 and other Great Prizes! • Benefitts Riley’s Bikes & Rotary charities

Cam

Kids K

the rubber duckies. The ducks will be placed in Bayou Bonfouca and will be pushed by a fire hose along the water course. The first duck to cross the finish line wins its ticket owner $500. Other prizes will also be awarded and you need not be present to win. The Lucky Ducky Duck race begins at 4pm so be sure to be there to cheer on your ducks!

Money raised will benefit Riley’s Bikes and other Rotary charities. The Rotary Club of Slidell is a member of Rotary International. Rotary International is a nonprofit worldwide organization that brings together 1.2 million neighbors, friends, and community leaders to create positive, lasting change in their community and around the world. Rotary has been the leading force in nearly eradicating Polio around the globe. If you would like to purchase tickets in advance, please call Barbara at 985-290-6939 to find out other places they will be available.

In addition to the rubber duck race, there will inflatables, games, arts and crafts, a petting zoo and live music and entertainment, including the the inaugural Singing Showdown competition. Kids ages 5-18 can compete in a vocal showdown.

The best singer, decided by a panel of judges, will receive a special award and bragging rights. Registration begins at 11am, near the amphitheater stage and the competition begins at 12 noon.

“Over the last two years, it has been a privilege to work with kids and provide them an opportunity to perform at Kids Fest,” said Dan Crowley, new Kids Fest board member, who has provided sound and entertainment for the festival since the first year. “I’m excited this year about the first Singing Showdown competition which will allow kids the chance to perform and show their talents to the community.”

This year, the Camellia City Kids Fun Fest has partnered with Bring it Home Northshore to honor our military heroes and their families. Active or retired military personnel who present a valid military ID will receive two free food tickets to enjoy at the festival. The Camellia City Kids Fun Fest began as a Leadership Northshore 2016 event. Over the past two years, the festival has raised over $30,000 for Children’s Wish Foundation and Riley’s Bikes.

This year’s event is presented by the Camellia City Kids Fun Fest board - Kelly Burdett, Alex Carollo, Dan Crowley, Ray Dupuy III, Eva Moore, Jeannie Vicari and Kevin Walcott - with support from the Northshore Community Foundation. “The Camellia City Kids Fest meant a lot to my dad and my family,” said Ray Dupuy III, who took his father’s place on the board. “I want to continue my dad’s legacy of service to our community. I was glad to be able to volunteer at the first two festivals and am happy to continue his hard work and efforts in bringing this event to our community.” For more information, please visit:

www.CamelliaCityKidsFunFest.com or email:

camelliacitykidsfunfest@gmail.com You can also follow the Camellia City Kids Fun Fest on Facebook.

Rubber Duck Race • Inﬂatables • Games • Arts & Crafts • Petting Zoo Live Music & Entertainment • Singing Showdown Competition •& More!

The

Purse Short story fiction by Rose Marie Sand

“Stop! Thief! Please stop!” I yelled and ran towards a blur of legs and arms and the dangling green velvet bag. I ran around one corner, then the next, among shoppers at the Spring Arts Evening in Olde Towne. In a sad trance, I retraced my steps in the crispy, spring air to the front of “Acilie’s Treasures” and plopped on a small patio chair near the steps, taking stock of my losses. Thankfully, my cell phone and wallet were tucked into the pockets of my jacket, my keys were in my back jean pocket and my new glasses were firmly on top of my head. I had scarcely begun my stroll around Olde Towne. This event was one I looked forward to all year – a night to browse local artists' booths, and rummaging through vintage stores for little gifts for my girlfriends and nieces back home. That thought brought about a crushing sense of loss, as I realized just which purse I had been carelessly carrying on my shoulder. THE purse. Grandma’s purse. 26

The handbag was something of a lucky charm, a comfort on days like today, when I felt alone. The purse was too small to actually carry the modern day necessities like wallet, keys, and cell phone. I kept a small pack of tissue, just like she did, chewing gum, and some “mad money” in the purse, and stashed everything else in my pockets. I could hear her voice clearly, “In my day, a lady always had enough money for a dime phone call and cab fare home.” At least I didn’t need a cab, my little blue Beetle was parked near Front Street. The slouchy little bag - green velvet with white beading along the seams - still smelled of old coins and Grandma’s favorite candy, Choward’s Violet mints. I still loved those square lavender candies, tightly wrapped up in purple foil paper. They were hard to find these days – most people think they taste a bit like soap. To me, they taste like Grandma’s home. Now the purse was gone to me, probably forever. All those comforting aromas and memories – how I wish I

wouldn’t have brought it tonight! I’d been meaning to tack sew the little rip in the handle’s seam; would that have made a difference? The thief would probably dump the purse somewhere, I thought, once he realized it held no real monetary value. I considered walking around the corner again, looking in trashcans. But I just didn’t have the heart to face disappointment and half-empty food containers. The door suddenly opened to the shop with the sound of dainty wind chimes. I looked up and noticed a kind face looking down at me. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “Come on inside, my dear,” she said. “Let’s get you some sweet tea.” Once inside, Miss Acilie placed a dimpled pink Depression glass goblet in my shaky hands, and I smelled pungent tea and strawberries. Sweet tea, like Grandma used to make. “Magic, isn’t it?” Miss Acilie said. “The way smells can comfort and take you back to a place in time…” she mused as she watched me inhale deeply.

She offered me a tissue and I heard myself explaining about my Grandma’s purse, and how it had been stolen. “When I was a little girl in Arkansas, I remember Grandma’s eyes lighting up, the same color as the green velvet, whenever she’d use that purse. She said her ‘beau’ told her she was always smiling when she went out with her ‘fancy’ purse,” I told her. “Isn’t ‘beau’ a cool word for a boyfriend? It’s a shame it’s gone out of style.” “Well, my dear, you’ll find everything comes back in style sooner or later! Why don’t you look around the shop? Perhaps we can’t replace the one that was taken, but you might be surprised at the new old treasures you’ll discover.” The museum-like quiet of the shop was broken only by the soft shuffle of Miss Acilie’s skirt as she puttered around. My hands were free to touch and linger and I soon was lost in another time and place. When you discover a treasure for the first time at a vintage store, you’re sharing a history with someone you’ll never meet, someone who knows the secret treasure in your hands. In that moment, you give a new life to something once precious to someone. I hoped someone walking in the streets of Olde Towne would pick up my Grandma’s purse and have such a fate. The deeper I floated into the small rooms and alcoves of the shop, the more transported I felt. I thought of how each item may have given the former owner a laugh or cry. I thought of the women who dressed up for a night out and chose the perfect handbag for their outfit. Women’s purses hold their secrets, like a photo locket, that can only be gleaned from looking inside. A dark blue satin clutch caught my eye, and I opened the rhinestone clasp and touched the satin lining. As my fingers brushed inside, I found an old, torn matchbook. I traced the words “Club Chez, New Orleans” printed in black on the faded gold top. Immediately, the muted sound of soft laughter, the tinkle of ice in a highball glass, and the smell of cigarettes engulfed my senses. I could feel a tight, narrow satin belt across my waist, and a mind-numbing mixture of fear and apprehension. I saw a white-gloved hand reach inside a hidden envelope in the purse to claim a small white pill, bring it up to tight lips and swallow it with a gulp of brown liquid. I pulled myself to the present and with a soft click, 27

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I closed the purse and set it back down. Strange, I thought, how vivid the image had been. And disconcerting – women’s purses really do hold secrets, I thought. “Now, this is getting a bit spooky,” I whispered to no one. I left the room to look for Mrs. Acilie, and found her helping a customer at a costume jewelry counter near the entrance. Our eyes met, and she nodded imperceptibly. I decided to stay close to the door, in the biggest room that must have originally been the parlor. If another uncomfortable wave of whateverwas-happening hit, I could be out the door and into the night as quick as the thief who stole my memories. I noticed a small leather change purse, the kind women used to keep to hold coins inside a larger handbag.

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“Oh, my!” I exclaimed under my breath. I’d bought one just like this in my gap year travels in Mexico – turquoise leather with an intricate gold design stamped on top,

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I remembered Grandma and Grandpa slipped a crisp hundred-dollar bill in my backpack the day I left with my girlfriend, LaVerne – how naive and brave we were!

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That was 20 years ago, right before I moved to Baton Rouge and started LSU. I stroked the soft, well-worn leather and remembered tucking mine in the pocket in a sloppy green backpack. That backpack had tons of zippers and I lived out of it that summer, quickly learning new methods of personal maintenance. You really can get by without makeup and dental floss for a few months.

I held the coin purse to my nose, and the smell of leather brought back the hands of a street vendor - a young man, lean hands with knots of veins and sinew. “Zippers are so cool, aren’t they?” he’d said, fingering my backpack when I lingered over the change purse at his table. LaVerne saw him unzip the pocket with Grandma’s “mad money.” But he didn’t know that LaVerne had a canister of pepper spray in her hand for just such occasions. We laughed all the way to Juarez, and treated ourselves to Cuervo and the best guacamole I’ve ever had. I ventured into the next little room displaying more hats and purses, and those little fur capes that were so in fashion pre-Peta. A large-brimmed straw hat, next to a boxy straw purse, caught my eye. My Auntie Pauline used to have a matching set just like that! The hat fit me perfectly and I held the purse in my hand and admired my reflection, feeling

like a little girl playing dress up in my auntie’s closet. Like a faded picture, the reflection held stories just out of focus. I straightened the grosgrain black ribbon encircling the brim and reached out to touch the vintage dresses on a nearby rack. The clasp of the straw bag was “genuine gold tone and genuine leatherette.” A mirrored compact smelled of powder and there was a lipstick smudge in the plaid lining. I heard Auntie Pauline’s bright voice whisper in my ear, “Someday, my love, you’ll be quite a looker.” She smiled, a deep cherry-red lipsticked smile and patted my shoulder. Or at least, it seemed she did. “Hello again, my dear,” Mrs. Acilie said, right at my shoulder. “That looks lovely on you.” “Oh, my!” I replied. “I’m having such feelings of deja vu among your displays.” “That’s what happens when people are intuitive enough to feel the memories among these treasures,” she replied. “Come over here, and set a spell.”

She offered me another glass of tea and a light-as-air sugar cookie. I was bathed in happiness.

brown eyes and the fashionable way she wore her bobbed hair that was so familiar.

“You know, women are generally quite private about the contents of their handbags,” she began.

An hour after I’d walked in, I realized the artists would soon be packing up outside at Arts Evening. As I took my leave, my thoughts were no longer hazy, nor my heart heavy with loss. I purchased the little change purse from Mexico; it fit my jean pocket like a glove.

“Yes! It’s like an invasion of privacy to look into someone’s purse!” I replied. “But aren’t they just wonderful, useful things to own,” she laughed. “I have so many purses and I love to see a young woman enjoy them.” I found myself telling her the story of the day my Grandmother gave me the fancy green velvet purse. It was the day after Grandpa died. “Your Grandpa always said when I selected this purse, he knew we were going to have great fun,” Grandma had told me. “He thought I was the bee’s knees, you know!” Mrs. Acilie laughed. “Yes, I thought I was the cat’s pajamas, myself!” We traded stories of days-gone-by, and I learned Mrs. Acilie had her own secrets she was aching to share. There was something about her big

“Goodnight, dear,” Miss Acilie said as I took my leave. “Here’s a little something for your new purse.” She placed a violet pack of mints in my hand, and closed it tightly. “Come visit me again sometime.” I didn’t expect to find magic when I set out for Arts Evening that night. Maybe there was something in the air, maybe something in the tea. I smiled broadly, knowing I surely would be back to Acilie’s Treasures soon. I walked slowly, looking past shoppers and twinkling lights. A flash of green velvet, hanging on an old-fashioned lamppost, and a soft, intimate laugh, was just around the corner.

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THIS MONTH APRIL April! This is the month that you are thankful to live in the South. The month that everyone craves playing hooky! While other people are still shoveling snow and doubting if the sun will ever show again, we are putting jackets in Cedar trunks, playing at parks, and planting all kinds of stuff in the yard. The great weather, Azaleas and Wisteria blooming everywhere, and festivals! Festivals and more festivals make getting any work done nearly impossible. Another reason I love April is for the most absurd and ridiculous holiday, April Fool's Day. No one is certain how April Fool’s really started but some speculate it dates back to 1582. France had switched from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar in 1563, almost twenty years earlier. News traveled slowly so people who hadn’t heard or failed to recognize that the start of the new year had moved to January 1 became the butt of jokes. * (History.com)

SIDE NOTE Do you know why we say the butt of a joke? Butts were archery targets erected permanently in or near a village or town for archery practice, required by law by Edward III in 1363. A butt is therefore a target, so the butt of a joke is the target of a joke. The French word for 'target' or 'goal' is 'le but.”

ZODIAC SIGNS ARIES March 21 - April 19

Strengths: Courageous, conﬁdent, optimistic, honest, passionate Weaknesses: Impatient, moody, short-tempered, impulsive, aggressive

TAURUS April 20 – May 20

Strengths: Reliable, patient, practical, devoted, responsible, stable Weaknesses: Stubborn, possessive, uncompromising

BIRTHSTONE Diamonds symbolize purity, eternal love, and faith. The stone was believed to increase happiness and ﬁnancial prosperity. This gem has been identiﬁed as the “stone of immortality,” which may have been the cause for the celebrated saying “diamonds are forever.”

FLOWERS The Daisy symbolizes innocence, stability, sympathy and cheerfulness. It is believed that the name Daisy came from the phrase "day's eye" because of how the ﬂower opens when the sun comes up and closes at night when the sun is down. The Sweet Pea symbolizes blissful pleasure and is used by many gardeners just for the scent it gives off in their garden because of its sweet fragrance.

IN HISTORY

Story by Dawn Rivera

Graphics by Devin Reeson

FESTIVALS

NOTABLE HISTORY

Did I mention festivals? The food, drinks, music, dancing, family fun, people watching, art, crafts, maybe a little sunburn and straw hats...

April 15, 1907 Largest Manufacturing Center in

the Parish of St. Tammany – real estate shows marked advancement – population will soon reach 2,500. (The Times-Democrat Newspaper, New Orleans)

Camellia City Kids Fun Fest Louisiana Railroad Days Festival French Quarter Festival Ponchatoula Strawberry Festival

April 4, 1914

Downtown Lake Charles Crawﬁsh Festival Franklin Parish Catﬁsh Festival Baton Rouge Blues Festival Louisiana International Film Festival & Mentorship Program

April 28, 1917 A boiler explodes in the Mackle

Pine Products Company blowing it through the roof. Mr. Dubuisson, who was scalded on the arms by steam, speculated something was wrong with the safety valve. Mr. Worley was blown some feet away but wasn’t injured. (The St. Tammany Farmer)

Bayou Teche Black Bear Festival Lecompte Pie Festival The Italian Festival Festival International De Louisiane 15th Annual Hospice Foundation of the South Crawﬁsh Cookoff New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival

FAMOUS PRANKS 1957 The BBC reports that Swiss farmers are having a record breaking spaghetti crop and show footage of people harvesting noodles from trees.

1962 Swedish Television brings in a technical expert that claims by stretching a nylon stocking over the screen, it will convert the television from black and white to color.

1985 Sports Illustrated tricks many of its readers when it runs an article about a rookie pitcher named Sidd Finch who can throw a fastball over 168 miles per hour.

1996 Taco Bell fools people when it announces that

Philadelphia’s Liberty Bell is being purchased and renamed the Taco Liberty Bell.

1998 Burger King advertises a “Left-Handed Whopper.” 2008 BBC is at it again, announcing that they have captured ﬂying penguins

2011 (My favorite) Google announces “Gmail Motion”- a new

technology that uses hand gestures to compose an email. There is a commercial/video that you should see!

Fire Company No. 1 is chartered. The ﬁrst Fire Chief of record was Isadore Levy who served from an unspeciﬁed date through 1930.

April, 1977

New Orleans Magazine runs an extensive article about the real estate boom of the 70’s and why St. Tammany Parish became home to so many New Orleanians.

April 11, 1983 The Pearl River rises nearly 22 feet

above ﬂood stage, turning highways and streets into streams of alligator and snake infested waters. At least 3,500 people are evacuated.

HOLIDAYS National Humor Month International Guitar Month Keep America Beautiful Month Lawn and Garden Month National Kite Month National Poetry Month National Pecan Month

CAJUN COMMISSARY- STORY & PHOTOS BY DONNA BUSH

Editor's Note: This month, we continue our 12-part series covering the amazing work being done by Louisiana heroes in the aftermath of the 2017 hurricanes and natural disasters. Slidell Magazine's award-winning writer and photographer, Donna Bush, has spent months travelling with multiple Louisiana-based organizations and volunteers, documenting their missions in the affected areas and those whose lives they've impacted. We share an unfortunate kinship with these survivors. We know all too well that disaster recovery is a slow and painful process. We are proud to showcase the volunteer efforts of our fellow Louisianians.

This is installment 6 in our 12-part series about Louisiana heroes helping others, our mid-way point. Christmas is behind us. We’ve been looking forward to Spring and now we are enjoying beautiful weather with festivals kicking off every weekend. But ,for those affected by Hurricanes Harvey and Maria, what are they enjoying? What are they looking forward to? The day I’m writing this, it has been 197 days since Hurricane Harvey made landfall in Texas with devastating flooding; and 171 days since Hurricane Maria swept across Puerto Rico, leaving a path of destruction in her wake. We are in “The Dead Zone” of disaster relief. Donor fatigue is a real thing. Donors still have compassion for those needing help, but they are overwhelmed and empty. In this month’s edition of our continuing series, I will highlight a group of ladies known as The Cajun Commissary, an L3C (low-profit limited liability company). Their mission: “We see a need, we meet a need.” Sounds simple, but it is so much more! Where many of the other Cajun groups are

about brute force and manpower, Cajun Commissary brings a softer side to those in need. They bring compassion, caring, tears and prayers. Like most of our Cajun heroes, this group formed with the massive 2016 Baton Rouge flooding, but moved leaps and bounds beyond that to assist our neighbors. Tiffany Theriot, founder of The Cajun Commissary has as much energy as the infamous Energizer Bunny. I met up with Tiffany and members of her team in Houston, in the wake of immense Hurricane Harvey flooding. They had left behind their families in the Baton Rouge area to lend a helping hand to Texans desperately in need. They were running Operation Ironing Board Brigade, where they would set up an ironing board and hang clothes from it. The idea being that those who needed clothes could take them and those who had extra clothes could leave them. Operation Baby Doll gifted children who had lost their baby dolls due to the flooding with replacement dolls. Young children

A CONTINUING COVERAGE SERIES FROM DONNA BUSH PART 6 OF 12 certainly can’t comprehend why Mom would throw away their baby dolls after flood waters covered them. Operation Cookbook replaced watersoaked cookbooks with favorites from around the nation. Operation Restoring Hope made sure that flood-affected children had a little something special under their tree at Christmas. Operation Christmas Lady in Rockport, Texas was a highlight in Tiffany’s memories. They learned of a 95-year-old veteran who was living in one house with his daughters and grandchildren because all had lost their homes. His wife had recently passed before Hurricane Harvey hit. She was widely known around Rockport as the ‘Christmas Lady,’ due to the amazing Christmas decorations that she put up each year. The lights would illuminate the entire street. Traffic would be restricted for several blocks to allow families to make their way to the home, where children could sit on Santa’s lap to reveal their Christmas wishes, receive a cup of cocoa, and often a small gift. Tiffany shared, “It was easy to see the loss of this tradition reinforced the loss of this veteran’s wife.” She took to social media asking for donations. They received over $1000 in decorations and money which they used to adorn the yard, hanging lights in every tree still standing. It was a touching way to bring a little bit of normalcy back to the community.

Tyson Chicken saved the day in Rockport by sending a 53’ trailer, full of cooked chicken, cheese, tortillas and bread for the community. Later, as power was restored to the area, they sent refrigerated trucks of food for the residents. Kinetic Movement Center, a dance studio in Rockport, garnered eight to eleven-yearold dance students to assist with moving Cajun Commissary’s base camp of supplies to a new location. Per Tiffany, “These girls worked harder than any men!” Even though operations were still ongoing in Texas, Tiffany felt led to take a mission to Puerto Rico. Her first mission was recon. Get in. See the status. What was needed most? Where could they be of

best assistance? The most critical need was clean water. She watched residents drinking from dirty streams. Tiffany and her team searched for water for themselves for four days. Water was so scarce that, instead of handing out bottles of water, they handed out cups of water! In fact, she ended up in a hospital severely dehydrated with borderline sepsis. One of Tiffany’s contacts from Texas was instrumental in saving lives in Puerto Rico. She met the owner of Clearbrook.net water filtration company in Rockport after Harvey. Like Tiffany, he also traveled to Puerto Rico where they once again crossed paths. He showed her a new water filtration bucket that he was using for his team’s camp. She was fascinated. He gave her three to demo. A few days later, they ran into each other and he asked, “How are things going? Do you need anything?” Tiffany was honest and told him, “Yes. I need you to give me 500 of those water filtration buckets.” Stunned, he replied, “Are you serious?” Tiffany, “Yes! I am! Polite would have been to ask for 100, but God told me to ask for 500.” He said, “Yes!” Cajun Commissary oversaw distribution, where their highlight was providing a nursing home with a filtration system. Until they received the system, they were rationed two gallons of water per day for residents! 35

Each bucket filters 6000 gallons of water before requiring a new filter. Previously, locals would have to drive daily to acquire water for drinking and cooking, impacting how much rebuilding they could accomplish. Power still has not been restored to much of the island. While there may be power to homes and businesses along the main highways, less than a block away, there is no power, and in many cases, no power poles. Without power to the pumping stations, there will continue to be a water crisis! Sometimes, we take all that we have for granted. Can you imagine having to drive many miles each day to get clean, safe drinking water. I know some of us did this after Katrina, but how many of us were still doing it 200 days later? Now on their third Puerto Rican mission, Cajun Commissary continues to bring healing to the area. Along with the water filtration systems, they are delivering solar lights to those still without electricity. Negotiations are ongoing with both the water filtration company and solar light companies to allow residents to purchase these items at cost.

They will establish barracks at the restaurant, El Taino, where they can rebuild the restaurant, cook for locals and establish a drinking water station. Of course, being Cajuns, they’ve created their own cuisine, ‘CajunRican,’ a fusion of Cajun and Puerto Rican! Plans include sprucing up a grove of fruit trees behind the restaurant, hoping to reestablish their fruit bearing. Puerto Rico is so much more difficult to restore. In Texas, eighteen wheelers arrived all day long, full of supplies. Not so in Puerto Rico. Everything must be flown in or shipped, both of which are extremely expensive.

Their latest mission is a partnership with veterans helping to rebuild restaurants. Headquartered in Lares, on the western side of the island, they will assist an elderly woman who supported herself by running a small organic soup stand down the road from her house. The roof was destroyed. The team will replace the roof allowing her to reopen her business.

As the days grow longer and the temperatures warmer, Cajun Commissary continues their mission to bring help, love and compassion to those in need. They bring water, after all WATER EQUALS LIFE! And they bring hope! Even though it has been over half a year since Maria brought her devastation, Cajun Commissary lets Puerto Rico know they have not been forgotten. Donations for Cajun Commissary may be made via Walmart eGift cards or PayPal by entering their email: CajunCommissary@gmail.com as the designee.

Life is about the ride, not the destination!

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“Your Estate Matters” By Ronda M. Gabb, NP, JD, RFC

LOUISIANA FORCED HEIRSHIP OK everyone, if you are not from Louisiana or if you have not lived here for a very long time, you may want to sit down before you read this. Louisiana is a Civilian Law jurisdiction, not Common Law like the other 49 states. Our laws stem from the Code Napoleon, yep, that Napoleon—Mr. Bonaparte himself. So here we go… In Louisiana, if you have children under the age of 24, or children of any age with special needs, our law will “force” you to leave them an inheritance. Hence, the term “Forced Heirship.” Your special needs grandchildren can also be your forced heirs if your child, who is their parent, has predeceased you. This is why planning for families with special needs children (and grandchildren) in Louisiana is such a meticulous process. So, if you have forced heirs and a Last Will and Testament (“Will”) that leaves your spouse (or anyone other than the forced heirs) everything in full ownership, you have now left your loved ones in a real mess! And shame on the Louisiana attorney that drafted that Will (if they were aware of the forced heirs).

Legal-ease free to leave your spouse the other 75%, called the “disposable portion.” Well, by now I have probably made you very nervous. Relax! With a properly drafted Will, you will never notice the difference. An experienced estate planning attorney will assure that your Will not only comports with Louisiana’s unique laws but will also allow the surviving spouse to retain 100% complete control and authority over all the assets. Additionally, if any of your forced heirs have special needs, we will draft a special needs trust for them to assure that any Medicaid benefits are not adversely affected.

FREE SEMINAR: ABLE IN APRIL Thursday, April 19, 2018 • 10:30 – 11:30am PLANNING FOR LOVED ONES WITH SPECIAL NEEDS USING ABLE ACCOUNTS What is an ABLE 529A Account? Why should I have one? Am I eligible? How much money can I put in it? How can I spend that money? Can I set up more than one account? Is it offered here in Louisiana?

It is very common for folks who move to Louisiana with Wills (or even Living Trusts) from another state that leave each other everything, as that was a valid option when drafted in their former domicile. However, I have never seen a Will or Trust that was drafted outside of Louisiana that properly complies with our forced heirship issues.

How is the money in my ABLE account invested, and can that be changed when my investment goals change?

The amount you are forced to leave your forced heirs— called their “legitime” (or “forced portion”)— can never be more than 50% of your estate, so you are always free to leave your spouse a minimum of the remaining 50%. The minimum amount of legitime is 25%, or an intestate child’s share, whichever is less. What we mean by an “intestate” share is an equal amount based upon the number of children you have. For example, if you had 10 children and only one is a forced heir, then the legitime would be 10%, not 25%, as that amount would be less. Therefore, if the legitime/forced portion was only 25%, you are

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

s I walk around Our Lady of Lourdes parish grounds and drive through Slidell, my mind is taken to “April past.” It is as if I am in a dream of fond memories. The month of April brings memories of vivid Springs past. I recall as a seminarian at St. Joseph Seminary in Covington, Louisiana during this time of the year, the azaleas around the Abbey lakes always reminded me of giant Easter eggs with their full pink blooms. Prior to my appointment as Pastor of Our Lady of Lourdes a little over two and a half years ago, when I was assigned to Washington, D.C., I lived not far from the cherry blossoms, greeting me with a parade of pink delicate blooms of exquisite beauty and inspiration. Truly, April is the vestibule to the coming summer and is filled with the flare of the Easter season with its pleasant, soft rain showers, fanciful blooming flowers, shrubs and trees and, of course, Easter lilies! The butterflies adorn the skies and the birds sing a symphony that only heaven can interpret. The beauty of the natural world bursts into our everyday and it is good. As a parish family, Our Lady of Lourdes Church is occupied with the rebirth of Catechumens in the baptismal waters and the Alleluias of worship. The Easter season invites all to a relationship with Jesus our Lord and Savior. It is a perfect time to focus on the spiritual because all of nature reflects the presence of the divine in the world with its natural beauty.

Picnics, family gatherings, Sunday dinners, Church fellowships, to name a few, remind us of the joy of life and treasure we all have in one another as unique, unrepeatable persons. We all share life, love and faith in our own particular ways and journey towards the divine one, being led by the spirit of peace and gentleness. It is no coincidence the various journeys we take in life because, unbeknown to us, the hand of Almighty God is always and gently shepherding us towards a life of eternal happiness. So, admire the beauty of the azaleas or the song of the sparrows or the blooming shrubs and trees and see the majesty of the Easter lily. It is no coincidence. It is God speaking to our hearts and lifting our souls towards a world where the Divine Presence dwells in all fullness. And yes, we are invited to participate in the parade of nature and the saints. For St. Paul tells us, “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it entered the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love him.” - 1 Cor. 2:9 Easter Blessings,

Reverend W.C. Paysse Pastor

OUR LADY OF LOURDES INTERESTING INVITES SUNDAY, APRIL 8 Divine Mercy Sunday

Confession: 1-2:30pm, Church Rosary with Chaplet of Divine Mercy, 2pm Mass: 3pm (All are invited)

SATURDAY, APRIL 14 Our Lady of Lourdes Parish School Dinner Theatre

7pm (contact school for more details, 985-643-3230)

SUNDAY, APRIL 22 Appreciation Pot Luck Luncheon for Mr. Steve Nichols Retirement

Follows 10:30 am Mass at the Gym (All are invited)

If you are looking for a Spiritual Home, come and visit Our Lady of Lourdes. Call Father Paysse at 643-4137.

Our Lady of Lourdes

BAYOU BASH May 4: 5-10pm / May 5: 10am - 10pm / May 6: 11am - 10pm FREE ADMISSION

FRIDAY MAY 4 MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT 6PM: The River City Hit Squad Band

SATURDAY MAY 5

SUNDAY MAY 6

9AM: Henry J. Calamari Race 10AM: Award Ceremony 11AM: Dance Project Performance 12PM: Cornhole Comp. begins 12-4PM: OLL students & Religious Ed class performances 4PM: Les Bon Amis Cajun Band Dancers

12-2PM: OLL students & Religious Ed class performances 4PM: Cornhole Finals

MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT 6PM: At Fault

MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT 6PM: Super Charger Band

RIDE PASSES

$75 in advance • $85 at the fair / (51” & under) $65 in advance • $75 at the fair RIDE SESSION PASSES AVAILABLE FOR EACH DAY $35 (4-5 HOURS EACH)

THE 38TH ANNUAL HENRY J. CALAMARI MEMORIAL 2 MILE RUN/WALK SATURDAY MAY 5, 2018: 9AM

Register by April 10, 3pm = $15. After April 10 = $20 (includes race & t-shirt) Check-In Table/Race Day Late Registration: Opens 8am Race forms may be picked up at the OLL School office at 345 Westchester Blvd., Slidell, LA 70458 For more info, contact Henry P. Calamari at 985-707-8905 or calamarihenry@gmail.com

Crimi-Mommly INSANE s

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“SOME THINGS YA CAN’T MAKE-UP” Of all the things I share here, this little secret is probably one of the most embarrassing… I don’t know how to put on makeup. Reaching the age of laugh lines, dark circles, and thinning eyebrows, I have recently forced myself to learn how. All I have every really needed was face lotion, powder, mascara, and tinted Chapstick, even for a night out. Well, I haven’t gotten out much in the last few years, and the last few years have obviously taken a toll on me. Snuck up quick. My mom and older sister never taught me much about makeup because, as a tomboy, I wasn’t interested. The only time I touched their makeup was when I ran out of crayons and needed to color my coloring books. My

TV idol, Punky Brewster, and later, Blossom, carried “unique” like nobody’s business. Clothes, bedrooms, makeup… colorful. I wanted to be like them. When I was in junior high, a neighbor got me one of those huge makeup boxes from Maison Blanche, for Christmas. As a young artist in the making, I was so excited at the many choices in this foot-long color palette that I couldn’t contain myself. I saw no difference between colors on paper and colors on my face. It’s all color, right? And who doesn’t love color? To appear as unique on the outside as I was on the inside, I used the eyeshadow to create little rainbows from the bottom of my eyebrows to the base of my eyelid. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. I had

NO IDEA what I was doing, or how much I would be tormented during the day. Puberty is hard enough, but puberty with rainbows sitting brightly over your eyes, makes for a very long day in the 7th grade. I didn’t wear makeup again until high school, and still, barely any. Moving on. My husband received an invitation in the mail to an ’88 West Point graduates party at the Governor’s Mansion. The Governor is also an ’88 West Point grad. Knowing this would be a good opportunity to be forced out of the house for a fun, interesting evening, I agreed to go. It would also be a good time to play around with some new makeup techniques, so I thought. For tried and true makeup application advice, I figured I would skip the typical

ways, since I never learned them anyway, and start this learning process through makeup hack videos. A bunch of young model-types applying layers of products to their faces, words flashing underneath, in convenient fast mode, set to music. Looked easy enough. 30 years of advice on painting my face in just a few minutes? That’s my kind of learnin’! Who likes to drag this sort of thing out anyway? My anxiety gets the best of me in social situations, but I usually just push through it, letting my sense of humor calm me. But having to find ways to cover my new jacked up facial imperfections was never part of the plan. Leaving room for any mistakes, I started getting ready for this party an hour earlier than usual. Makes sense. All those years of cluelessness, shoved into ONE HOUR, right before meeting the Governor. To save money, I pretty much turned to the hacks FOR makeup hacks, the cheapest possible way to use the makeup you already have, along with staple items sitting around the house. Thank God my friend left her makeup bag in my bathroom, so I had a little more to work with. Bonus, she had the contouring stuff, which I really thought would make all the difference. Starting with my familiar face cream, I moved on to the primer that was luckily in my friend’s bag. It was yellowish, whatever THAT is supposed to do, other than what it did… made me look yellow. Not really knowing if the base or contouring came next, I went with the base from her bag. Of course, my friend is two shades darker than me, even in winter. I could tell that my neck was whiter than my face, so I used my fingers to spread the makeup

down my neck. Looked good enough in my four-bulb bathroom lighting… on its last bulb. Now was time for the confusing part. Contouring. It looks silly to me on the videos. I mean, am I trying to be ME, or a zebra? All I knew was that the girls in the video didn’t look like zoo animals in the end, so I just went with it, figuring it would work itself out in the next 45 minutes. The darker part of the contouring, under my cheek bones, was VERY dark. Using common sense, I realized I hadn’t let the lotion and base dry, which made it stick to my face, looking like I had a pigmentation problem. This happened in all the other places too. Like, the sides of my nose, making my obviously broken bone from years ago, more obviously broken. The lighter contouring was next. It made me feel a little better, that is, until I used my friends blush brush to smooth it all in. I only know it was a blush brush because I now had a pigmentation disease AND a sunburn. Hoping some light-colored powder would pull this disaster all together, I quickly realized I had none. My daughter, who I have wisely chosen not to school on makeup application, dropped it awhile back. It cracked, breaking all over the floor, and was swept up into the trash. BUT, I still had the trusty, two-shades-darker, friend bag. My only hope at this point. With half of my hour allotment gone, my husband peaks his head around the corner of the bathroom door. “You almost ready?” I slammed it in his face. “Noooo! Sweet Jesus, NOOOOOO!” Trying to pull myself together with some deep breathing, I notice a red, patch-like rash forming on my cheeks and chin. Redder

than my artificial sunburn, that is. I have NO IDEA what to do about this. I felt like a dog searching for his buried treat, as I desperately dug thru the friend bag for something to help. CONCEALER! YESSSS! We’re about to conceal some shit! Squirting the concealer into my hand like Neosporin on a knife gash, I rubbed it EVERYWHERE! Left no spot un-rubbed! The end results? A corpse. BUT, there was still some bronzer to be had. Bronzing the be-Jesus out of my face like an artist splattering paint on a canvas, I quickly felt… like… I was back in 7th grade. This work of art, was anything BUT. Even Punky and Blossom couldn’t look past this, as strange as they were. Bitches. I knew they couldn’t hang with this type of unique. Following my gut, I put the hair dryer to my face, feeling it would just blow into place. NOPE. Good try though. I decided to go with my regular brownishpink eyeshadow at this point, nothin’ fancy. It didn’t make a difference. KNOCK KNOCK! "We have to leave in 15 minutes!” Two fist punches back at the door. BOOM BOOM! "BACK AWAY FROM THE DOOR IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU!” Followed with the faint sound of fear and regret. No turning back now. In that moment, I remembered that I would be coming face to face with the Governor of Louisiana very soon. Reaching for my mascara, dipping it deep into the tube, I saw, as I had for weeks, that it was dry. I knew this! But, I also

remembered the life hack makeup video said to add rubbing alcohol to it. With minutes to spare, I add the rubbing alcohol, shake, and apply the mascara. I apparently didn’t shake it long enough. The alcohol dripped into my eyeball causing me to let out a blood curdling scream. “You all right in there?” Face down, I charge out of the bathroom with lip liner and lipstick in hand. “Let’s go, we are going to be late,” I say, face down, heading straight outside and into the passenger seat.

I looked gothic, with my black lipstick and rubbing alcohol induced pink eye, resembling someone that had been beaten in the face with a mesh bag of charcoal, chalk, and Alabama red mud, with vertical dark brown finger streaks down my neck.

Flipping the mirror down and turning on some lights, I literally had no idea who this freakshow was looking back at me. Vaguely remembering the lip hack, I lined my lips, then drew 3 vertical lines on the top and bottom, quickly realizing I grabbed the BLACK eyeliner. Next step said to add dark lipstick to the edges and light gloss in the middle, or was it the other way around? It didn’t really matter at this point.

glance at the beauty I had so desperately created. What I thought looked so bad before, was now a monstrosity.

Rainbow eyeshadow had NOTHING on this! I just grabbed an old tee shirt out the back and wiped it all away the best I could, along with my tears. Because of this ungodly start to what was supposed to be a good night, I headed straight to a table at the party where men in suits were pouring Old Fashioned cocktails. I drank one quicker than I should have, then, two or three more through the course of the night, while avoiding any mirrors. They didn’t taste very strong, but, ohhh, THEY WERE. After asking the Governor for a Cuban cigar, which I smoked in front of his wife while talking to her about religion, group art, and most likely, makeup, my husband took me home. No amount of concealer can cover that up, and I’m good with it. He hasn’t taken me out since. There really is no moral to this story. But, I hope it makes your day as bright as rainbow eyeshadow.

STAY UNIQUE!

In that mirror, pausing from all my panic, I stopped myself to take a long, hard

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