40th Edition - November 2013

THE OFFICIAL MAGAZINE OF SLIDELL “Don’t let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as Camelot.”

magazin magazine Vol 40 November 2013

The Day America Changed Forever 50 Years Ago WE KEEP IT FRESH

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Today is my birthday Well, not TODAY, the day you are reading this…I mean MY today, October 22, the day I am writing this.

In celebration, this week I was treated to lunch, invited to a concert, attended a play, and received over 200 birthday wishes via facebook.

For those of us who don’t have large families or a spouse, and suffer a bit from loneliness on birthdays and holidays, facebook is a lifesaver. Maybe I’m shallow, or maybe too sentimental, but I love the facebook family I have and the attention they showed me on my special day.

I got well wishes from best friends, long distance relatives, grammar school friends I haven’t seen in 30 years, people I’ve met only once, and people I’ve never met before. I don’t even know how I got to be facebook friends with some of them, but I’m sure glad that I am. Today, these friends and strangers took the time to send a note to say they were thinking of me. It was a simple gesture for them – but it meant the whole wide world to me. I tried to show my appreciation by answering each message individually – and I think I just about got them all.

I’m not the most avid facebook user, but the accessibility in communication it offers is amazing. Facebook allows us to document our daily lives, almost like a diary. It freezes moments in time.

Everyone laments about the “useless” information that clogs the news feed on facebook. But, what is considered useless information? Useless to whom?

Sure, the pictures of Aunt Martha’s overweight cat or a post saying what you ate for dinner isn’t going to change my life, but there’s a bigger meaning behind these messages.

Think about when you catch up with an old friend, or you visit with a relative that you only see at weddings and funerals, or you see a co-worker once a year at the annual work party.

There’s that cordial, almost businesslike, obligatory conversation. “How’s the…(fill in the blank here)…spouse… k i d s … g r a ndkids…job…weather… government..” etc. You’re not actually having a conversation. You’re giving a biographical update.

It’s the useless conversation that takes two people from being acquaintances, to being friends. By sharing bits and pieces of your world with someone, you are giving them access to your daily life, thus allowing them to become part of it. The interesting, the mundane, the unspectacular, the amazing and the unpretty – it’s all part of LIFE. Through facebook, we can share our successes with others, and receive congratulations and acknowledgement in return. (Where else are accomplishments so heralded without it being considered boasting?) We can get support when we are troubled, prayers when we are sick, condolences when we suffer a loss, advice when we are searching, motivation when we feel uninspired.

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Kendra Maness - Editor/Publisher Editor@SlidellMag.com Alan Lossett - Graphic Design Lee Kreil - Staff Writer Niki Bech - Accounts Manager Contributing Writers: Donna Bush EFOP, Nancy Richardson Sli-Ku, Lee Kreil The Storyteller, John Case Jockularity, Corey Hogue Pet Points, Jeff Perret, DVM 20/20, John Maracich, III Lori Gomez Mike Rich John N. Felsher Rose Marie Sand

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Slidell Magazine now available at all Slidell

and

And once a year, we get birthday wishes from people we know, and those we may have never met, to make us feel special and loved.

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ef o

Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” Person of the Month

by Nancy Richardson Sponsored by:

November 2013

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At his beautifully restored, sprawling home in old Slidell, in the cool shade of a giant, old live oak tree dripping with Spanish moss, most likely sitting on his charming wrap around porch either waving to his neighbors or reading, resides a living piece of local, as well as national, history. This November, as we remember the 50th anniversary of the death of President John F. Kennedy, we are proud to introduce to you Judge Louis P. Trent. Judge Trent visited with us and shared his memories of his very good friend, Jim Garrison, who readers may remember played a major role not only in New Orleans political history but also in the aftermath of the Kennedy assassination and the subsequent trial of Clay Shaw. We’ll tell you some of his memories of the battle for integration in the schools. Louis Trent also played an interesting role in fighting WWII, serving in the Office of Strategic Services in a very covert “black op”.

Judge Louis P. Trent

In 1943, at the age of seventeen, young Louis quit high school to join the Navy, where he served his country for three years in WWII. Assigned to the Office of Strategic Services, he attended radio school, learned infiltration techniques, as well as other highly secret skills. (They even had code names, it was that secret.) Ordered to North Africa, he was instructed to wear civilian clothes, and from there participated in a very covert operation that, to this day, he isn’t sure what it was all about. Incidentally, after the war, young Mr. Trent was offered a job working for the CIA in Washington, DC. “I often wonder how differently my life would have been had I taken that path instead of returning to New Orleans to go to law school and serve on the bench,” muses retired Judge Trent.

Before returning to New Orleans, Louis finished his high school credits in Michigan

and went to Tulane Law School where he graduated in 1953. From there, his career has included serving as appointed Assistant District Attorney, Assistant City Attorney (his principal duty was prosecuting beverage outlet violations) and he was elected to Traffic Court. Before his retirement in 1990, Judge Trent had also served as Judge Ad Hoc in Civil District Court, Criminal District Court, Juvenile Court, Municipal Court and First City Court. Judge Trent was recently recognized at a Louisiana Bar Association presentation recognizing judges who had served as practicing attorneys for 40, 50 and 60 years. He was one of only ten other judges present at the ceremony being honored for 60 years of service.

Besides his love of the law, Louis Trent’s other love was his wife, Lillian, to whom he was married for 52 years. Lillian Cohen Trent, lawyer, dancer, fighter for women’s

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rights, Desire Street bar owner and operator, supporter of Jewish causes, was indeed Louis’s first and only true love. “You should be doing this article on Lillian,” jokes the Judge, “as she would have made for a much more interesting story.”

“Lillian’s step father was a Navy man who transferred his family from Philadelphia to New Orleans. I was in school, living in a Quonset hut. My roommate was a crippled guy named Jimmy Turner whose wife was selling coffee door to door. She introduced Lillian to me. Lillian intrigued me as she had been married to a weight lifter in Philadelphia, had a daughter with him, and ran a bar on Desire Street in the projects of New Orleans.” After nine years of knowing each other, they were married, with Louis adopting Lillian’s then five year old daughter, Vicki, and raising her as his own. They never had more children.

Louis says, ”I love my grandkids, David and Jessica, unconditionally! Those 52 years of marriage to Lillian were the best 52 years of my life!”

Judge Louis Trent and District Attorney Jim Garrison with friends Chief Randy Smith, in my opinion, is in favor of the rehabilitation of prisoners. I’ve also felt very fortunate to have chosen Slidell for the interesting culture, amazing food, well-kept parks and friendly neighbors.” He and Lillian particularly enjoyed their frequent visits with their next door neighbors, Rhonda and Lee Kuhlmann. “They love to entertain, always deck out their home for the holidays, and throw great parties.” Louis, to this day, still enjoys a few “Toddies for the Body” with the Kuhlmann’s on a regular basis. Another family that adds to Louis’ love for his neighborhood is the Hinton family. He, quite often, enjoys visits from their grandchildren and treasures their company greatly. The Gayle’s, down the street, along with their wonderful children and adorable Labrador, also contribute to the charm of the Brugier community. The description of Louis’ admiration for his neighborhood wouldn’t be complete without the mention of his friend, Pink, and her colorfully painted home and beautiful garden. Louis would like to thank all of his other friends and acquaintances throughout Brugier, “You know who you are,” that have made his stay here so memorable and bring him joy every day. Judge Trent is also very thankful for his constant companion for the last five years, a beautiful, black toy poodle named LuLu.

Louis Trent as a very young Navy sailor during World War II “After our marriage, we first lived out in New Orleans East, but when our daughter wanted to go to school in New Orleans uptown, we bought a house near Newman School. We also bought another house in Miami Beach, and later, another in the French Quarter. We went back and forth for a number of years and finally moved to Slidell two years before Hurricane Katrina in 2005,” remembers the Judge. “We were very fortunate to have chosen Slidell when, after Hurricane Katrina, we renovated our circa 1906 home that I live in now.” The renovation of the Trent home was guided by several of his and his wife’s dear friends, namely Joan Hartman, Joan Nasser, and Leslie DiRosa. Louis goes on to say, “I’ve been very impressed by the city government, elected officials and the work ethic of the administration, particularly the work of the Slidell Police Department. My experiences have impressed me greatly. Police

The walls of Louis’ circa 1906 home in Olde Towne are covered with more than a half-century of beautiful memories 7

Don Organ was a friend of Louis’s and Jim’s who represented Jim in the trial for defamation of judges in a very messy case involving prostitution and other kinds of vices in the French Quarter.

Louis was asked by Jim to assist in his defense as co-counsel. The judges on the criminal court, that were allegedly defamed, voluntarily recused themselves, and a judge from Northern Louisiana was appointed by the Supreme Court. Garrison was ultimately found guilty of defamation. “Jim was very strongly against the immorality in the Quarter,” remembers the Judge. “Jim appealed the verdict, based on the First Amendment. Chief Justice Brennen, of the U.S. Supreme Court, later determined this to be a landmark case for the First Amendment, saying that individuals may make charges against public officials within their First Amendment right.” This case brought notoriety and power to Jim Garrison.

You can find Judge Trent and LuLu on their porch most afternoons, enjoying their neighbors and the beauty of Brugier Subdivision She was named by his wife, Lillian, and she’s been a faithful friend to both of them, and especially to Louis since his wife’s passing.

Lillian was Jewish and was very active in causes and fund raising.

She traveled to Israel several times. “One time I went with her.

We walked into a bar in Tel Aviv one evening and the piano player looked up and started playing ‘Way down yonder in New Orleans’ when he recognized Lillian, whom he had met on one of her previous visits. She had such a good effect on people,” says Judge Trent . “Another time Lillian went to Israel with my secretary. They went to a political meeting to discuss Israel’s future, hosted by Golda Meir, who was also the lead speaker. Lillian saw that there was an empty seat next to Ms. Meir and Lillian told my secretary that she was going to go sit next to her. My secretary said, ‘Oh no!

You can’t do that,’ but Lillian just went and sat by her anyway. That woman had moxy!” Lillian was also very active in NOW and other women’s causes.

Hanging on the wall in Judge Trent’s Slidell home are photos of his good friend Jim Garrison. “Jim was a very difficult kind of person,” says the Judge. “We all called Jim the Jolly Green Giant because he was 6 foot 7 inches tall.” Judge Trent recalls that Jim Garrison was not in very good health but he ran for District Attorney three times (Garrison won the first two elections, and lost on his third bid for District Attorney to Harry Connick, Sr). “Jim was really very shy but also very strong willed. He wanted to run for governor of Louisiana. He consulted his very dear friend, Dennis Barry, regarding his desire to run for governor. In fact, Jim, John Voltz and Don Organ were on their way to Baton Rouge to file for the governor’s race when they heard the news about President Kennedy’s assassination. Jim decided not to run for governor at that time.”

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Judge Trent remembers the sixties and the Civil Rights movement.

“It was a horrible environment with many terrible acts of violence and terror,” states the Judge, who saw it all. An advocate for civil and human rights, Judge Trent won all but two of 300+ Black precincts when he ran for Judge. Judge Trent sat on the traffic court and liked it because he could continue private practice. “When I wanted to go on vacation for a few days, I wanted my friend A. P. Tureaud, a black judge, to cover for me. But I couldn’t just ask him. Due to current laws at that time, I was forced to go through Mayor Moon Landreau to get the approval to appoint him. Now, the Doctrine of Separation of Powers prevents the need for such approval. I told Moon that I was going to appoint A.P. anyway, but Moon was in favor of the idea. That made A.P. the first Black judge in the state, since the Reconstruction Era, to be appointed to the bench. He never ran to my knowledge, and I’m still in touch with his daughter today,” says Judge Trent.

During the Civil Rights Movement, Judge Trent worked successfully with the Morial family, Ben Smith, Israel Augustine, (the first elected black judge in New Orleans) Bruce and Miriam Waltzer, Jack Nelson, Eddie Sapir and others in the community at the time.

“When I was invited to speak to the Citizen’s Counsel, a racist group in New Orleans, Lillian thought I shouldn’t because it would look like I was after their support. It was a rough time, racially, with school integration,” says the Judge. His friend Jim Garrison did go to speak to that racist group and told his friend Louis, ‘I’ll talk to anyone, and I’ll tell them I’m for integration.’

“A good friend of Lillian’s and mine was a brilliant lady named Dorothy Cowan. She, Helen Kohlman and Lillian were the top three students in their law school. These ladies were very instrumental in bringing Lady Bird Johnson and other speakers before various charitable and political organizations to New Orleans. One time they asked me to go to the airport to pick up, then Senator, Joe Biden, who is now our current Vice President.”

Dorothy Cowan was Judge J. Skelly Wright’s, chief secretary.

Judge Wright was the judge who decided segregation was unconstitutional. “Dorothy was from Pontchatoula. We called her Dupie,” says the Judge. She became his secretary in his court for a long time. Of Dorothy, Judge Trent laughs, “Here was a woman who had worked on the Federal Court, who went to work in my City Court!” At Judge Wright’s death, Lillian became the owner of his big antique roll top desk. She donated the desk to the Louisiana State Museum in New Orleans. Judge Trent also donated his O.S.S. Commemorative sleeve dagger to the National WWII Museum.

Regarding the Kennedy assassination, Judge Trent notes, “Lillian and I helped author and investigator Joan Mellen with her book Farewell to Justice. She worked on it for seven years. We introduced her to people she should be talking with,” says the Judge. “There was a lot of misinformation regarding the assassination. The biggest mistake Jim Garrison ever made was in trying French Quarter resident Clay Shaw. The jury stayed out only about an hour, finding Clay not guilty. I told Jim that he was on the wrong track with Clay Shaw. Author Joan Mellen felt that there WAS a conspiracy, and I just don’t see how Oswald could have handled that alone. It’s just hard to believe all of it. I don’t know if there was a mafia and/or Cuban connection. There just doesn’t seem to be enough evidence to make a decision either way. Also, I felt that the Warren Report was weak,” states the Judge.

Being of Mexican descent, Louis and Lillian liked to visit Mexico often, sometimes taking his grandkids, David and Jessica, there to fish. Louis’ great-grandfather was the governor of Baja, California “way back when”. On one trip with David and Jessica to Ensenada, they chartered a fishing expedition. The kids were about 13 and 15 at the time. Recalling that trip, the Judge says, “When we were about five miles out, the large boat started taking on water and began to sink.” When water started coming into the main cabin, he just thought it was the crew washing fish guts and blood off the boat. They were all really scared, ending up in the water for several hours. As there was a lot of blood in the water from the fish they were gutting on the deck, Jessica was worried about sharks, but saw none. Just about out of energy, they spotted a rescue boat coming toward them. In swimming to the rescue boat, Louis was able to help others. When they got back to their hotel, Lillian

had been wondering where they were. Jessie and David told their grandfather to watch the television, because the aftermath of their rescue was being shown. The next day, when they were in town, they bumped into another of the survivors and he asked Louis’ grandson, “So, how was it, son?” David replied, “Oh, I thought it was fun!”

Ever the story teller, Judge Trent tells why he had artist Kenny Bridges paint a flaming airplane on the base of his pelican statue that greets visitors to his beautiful home. “As we were returning from Split, Yugoslavia, headed back to Bari, Italy, we came across a plane that was coming down in flames in the Adriatic Sea. The pilot had parachuted out. Standing on the bow and watching, I said that I just gotta go get this guy. I was told that I can’t do that, but did it anyway. When I reached the pilot, I kept him up until the boat came to us. We got him on the boat, shivering and cold.” Louis Trent had saved his life!

In remembrance of the 50th anniversary of President Kennedy’s death, Slidell Magazine salutes one of our nation’s heroes, a great local statesman who dedicated his career and life to maintaining the integrity of our courts and fairness to all people. He and Lillian, together, made a great contribution to the quality of life for so many of us. Thank you Judge Louis Trent for making your home in Slidell and for being Slidell Magazine’s Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” Person of the Month for November 2013!

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Saints vs. Cowboys Home • 7:30pm Pontchartrain Film Festival Slidell Little Theatre pontchartrainfilmfestival.com

Veterans Day

Saints vs. 49ers Home • 3:25pm

Jewelry Sale Everything $5 SMH Atrium 7am – 4pm Storytime 0-2yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am Slidell Library

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Storytime 2-3yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am Teen Creative Ink: 4:30pm Herbal Harvest Tasting: 6pm Slidell Library

Chamber Annual Meeting Community Update Fremaux Project Speaker: Mayor Drennan Slidell Auditorium 11:30am-1:30pm

Storytime 0-2yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am Slidell Library

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Storytime 0-2yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am Slidell Library

Slidell Ladies For Liberty HAVE LUNCH WITH US! Texas Roadhouse 12-2pm

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Storytime 2-3yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am Slidell Library

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Christmas Gift Gala KC Hall, West Hall • 9am “The Rocky Horror Show” “The Rocky Horror Show” Cutting Edge Theater • 8pm Cutting Edge Theater • 8pm

9 8 EYP Luncheon Pink Rubber Boots “411 on the 911” Guest Speaker: Bill Davis, Fishing Rodeo Breakfast SMH CEO Heritage Park Guest Speaker: Randy Smith SMH Founders Building 10am-3pm LaRosetta’s • 8-9:30am 11:30-1pm Pontchartrain Film Festival Business After Hours Slidell Little Theatre Corporate Square pontchartrainfilmfestival.com Shopping Center • 5-7pm

Family Storytime All Ages 6:30pm Slidell Library

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Saints @ Atlanta Away • 7:25pm

Business After Hours East Meets West Louisiana Heart Hospital 5-7pm

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Nov. 15 & 16 Radio City Playhouse Also broadcasted WTSO 990am Slidell Little Theatre • 7pm

Wine & Dine with Hospice Fleur de Lis Center, Mandeville • 6-9pm

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Storytime 2-3yrs: 9:30am 3-5yrs: 10:30am 5yrs+: CRAFTS;3-5pm Slidell Library

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Grand Opening R&R Outdoors 3-5pm

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Jewelry Sale Everything $5 SMH Atrium 7am – 6pm

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Home is Where the Art Is Habitat for Humanity Harbor Center 7:30-11:30pm

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Hands on Art Activities For the whole family Slidell Library Anytime 2-4pm

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Slidell Art League Show & Art Market Slidell Cultural Center Show & Sale Run Thru 12/20

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THANKSGIVING Running to Feed the Hungry Registration 7:30am Slidell Airport

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Olde Towne Soda Shop Bake & Craft Sale 11am-4pm The Gifts of the Magi Slidell Little Theatre • 8pm

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Blue Days and Summer Rain Circa 1955 Have you ever sat on the porch of a rural home, far away from urban noise, moving very gently to and fro in a swing? Add to this a summer day, a hot summer day, and rain falling. Not the rain from an angry sky, no high wind gusts or lightening, just big drops of cold water falling hard from the sky. That is a summer rain.

felt like that obligation was a burden. There would be no children. She was gone.

She could not handle his days of depression.

He called them his “blue days” and besides, maybe a child would inherit his condition. He knew something was wrong. He had known it for a long time. Why was he different from the others? Why was he different from the way his brother had been and people like Zeno?

He knew that the summer rain was one of the few things that eased his pain. Pain that was not physical, but emotional. A rain like that made it bearable.

When the blue days were bad, he would go to bed, pull the sheets over his head and sleep.

Sometimes he would not get up for three or four days. He had been known to put his head in his pillow and sob. He did not like for her to know that.

He sat on the front porch and, in the pauses of the down pour, he could see across the field.

He could see all the way across his field and on to Zeno’s farm. Most of Zeno’s farm was on a series of hillsides. At the base of the hills was a stream. That was property line between him and Zeno.

He didn’t buy his land; he would have never done that. It was given to him by his father, just as his father’s father had given it to him.

He would be expected to give it to his son, but that would not happen.

Since he had no children he wondered what he would do with the farm when he got old.

He had an unwritten obligation to perpetuate family ownership of this piece of land and he

As he began to come out of this spell, he would have what he called a “slow day”. A slow day was the worst because he knew what would happen in the coming days. He would work, work until he was exhausted and then the cycle would repeat itself.

Often after one of his spells, he would work for four days - day and night without sleeping.

He was thankful for the tractor. An odd possession to be thankful for but he got it through a government program after the war. He could have gone to college on the GI bill or he could have taken advantage of other programs they offered. He chose the tractor and the soil conservation work tied to it.

The Department of Agriculture wanted to stop erosion, so he could hire out to terrace the hillsides to slow erosion and the government would pay him. He could do it in his spare time. To him, it was not work; he liked driving the tractor. He could day dream and think about pleasant things.

The tractor was a four cylinder Ford. It was grey with the engine compartment painted red. Being nearly ten years old, he kept it looking like new. It had headlights. That was good. When he was in a work cycle he could plow or bush hog all night.

When his folks died, he inherited the home place; four hundred acres, mostly rich bottom land. But with low land came flooding.

He always hoped the floods would come in the spring. If they did, he would have time to replant and have a successful crop. But if they came in July, the year was literally a washout. Maybe if he had some highland like Zeno it would be better.

The farm was his with no financial encumbrances. His brother was killed at Normandy. His parents had taken the money they received and paid off what little was owed. He had no choice, this place and farming would be his life’s work. The farm was his by his brother’s blood. The obligation was his for the same reason.

His brother was buried just a hundred yards from the back door and when he passed the grave, he often thought that if he had not been killed, things would be different. His brother was a good farmer and he enjoyed it. But not him. He could pretend to be a farmer and he was not bad at it, but he did not like it.

When he took over the farm, the spells came more often. She insisted that he see a doctor and eventually he went to Gulfport to the VA hospital. He read the report. It was not true what the doctor said but he did not correct him. The doctor said he was suffering from shell shock. There was no reason to contradict him, but if the truth be known, he had seen very little combat, When his brother was killed, he was removed from the combat zone, as he was the only surviving son.

He was ordered to have a series of shock treatments. He also knew he would not do that again. It hurt. It hurt so bad that he clenched his teeth so hard, he broke two of them, even with the protective plate in his mouth. Never again.

He was given partial disability for his military service and received $100 per month. Money was not an object or problem for him. Most

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years he made a few dollars on the farm, occasionally got a job with his tractor, and he just did not spend much. She had been thrifty also.

But this rain today, it came from a friendly sky. Big drops, drops as big as a dime. A few hit the railing on the porch and splattered on him. They were cold. How could water be so cold on a hot summer day?

He liked summer rains like this because it was a day like this that he had spent with her before the war. She had lived down the road and somehow it was just assumed that they would someday belong to each other. No commitments had been made but he had received his orders and would be leaving for basic training next week. She had stopped by under the pretense of saying goodbye. He was home alone when she arrived and would be for the rest of the week.

At first they sat on the porch just as he was doing now. The rain was just like it was now. Those were crazy times. They were times when the possibility that you would not come home made you throw caution to the wind. Soon they slipped off their clothes off, down to their underwear and ran in the rain. They played tag and catch me if you can until they were soaked, tired, and cold too.

Inside they dried off, lit the stove to dry her underwear and on that late afternoon, they became committed to each other. Each had never known another as they did that day. No words were said but both were sure that a future together was meant to be. She waited for him and after the war, they married. She loved him and he loved her.

When she left him, she told him that she still loved him. She said she was just not emotionally strong enough to survive his bad times. She did not move far, just to town about ten miles away. She checked on

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him from time to time and she never remarried. That was three years ago.

Zeno loved to farm. He too had inherited his father’s place but he was much younger. Even though he was young, he knew what he was doing. The rain did not stop him.

He could see Zeno on his tractor plowing. His watermelons had been harvested and he was turning under the ruin.

For a long time he thought about her. Then, as if in a trance, he stepped off the porch into the rain and started walking. Walking toward Zeno. Zeno spotted him coming and drove the tractor to the edge of the small stream. When he got to the stream, he did not slow down, he just walked through it as if it were dry land and stopped in front of Zeno.

He was quick and to the point because he knew what he had to say before he lost his courage.

“Zeno, you want to buy my farm? With your highland and my lowland, you would have the best place in the county.”

Zeno just glared at him for a moment not believing what he was hearing. He had always wanted that property, but knew it would never become available. He then answered.

“I can’t afford it.”

“Yes you can. I just want you to pay me $100 per month for as long as she or I live. If we die next year, you’ve made a good deal. If we live sixty more years, it’s still not a bad deal. I want to keep the house and ten acres.”

Zeno could not believe what he was hearing, but somehow he could tell that his neighbor was serious.

“I don’t see how I can turn down an offer like that. I will pick you up and we will go to the courthouse in the morning.”

The next afternoon, after he returned from the courthouse, he packed his clothes and nothing else.

He closed the door and drove to town.

Soon he got a job as a fireman. He lived at the fire station with free room and board and no one cared how much he slept. If there was a fire, and he was in one of his spells, the excitement and adrenalin gave him the energy to do his job and do it well. It was good for all concerned and his blue days became less frequent.

She noticed the change too and after a while, he began to spend more time at her place until finally, he spent most of the time he was not working there.

Later he got side jobs with an oil company. He would use his tractor to clear foundations for drilling platforms. This pay was real good and he was doing well.

Occasionally, she and he would go back to the home place and spend the weekend. It was like a get away, but he loved it now because he felt no responsibility. Sometimes they would walk down by the stream and fish and some days they would just sit on the porch.

One day while on the porch there was that special summer rain. They looked at each other, took each other’s hand, and without saying a word stepped off the porch into the cold, big rain drops.

John Case November 2013

15

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It’s turkey time, it’s turkey time. Actually, I’ve never understood why most people only cook turkey at Thanksgiving. I cook turkey about 8 times a year. Aside from the fact it’s delicious, it’s a great value. I always buy the biggest turkey I can (about 22 lbs.) in order to get as many meals out of it as possible. It generally goes something like this: the first meal is turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes and a vegetable. The next day is always turkey sandwiches (we never get tired of those). The rest of the meat is separated into Ziploc bags and put in the freezer. I always take this opportunity to make a good stock out of the bones for more options, like turkey and sausage gumbo or turkey and vegetable soup (a magic cure for cold season). The list could go on and on.

There are as many ways to cook turkey as there are different meals you can make with it. But this month, I want to share with you a discovery I made about a year ago that has changed the way I cook turkey. My family has become addicted to it and I’ve never looked back. So what do I do now that I haven’t done for the past 25 years?

I discovered brining. It makes the flavor go throughout the entire bird, all the way to the bone. It also makes it extremely juicy.

If you are unfamiliar with brining, it’s when you soak the turkey in water, vegetables and herbs over night. So this month, I want to share the process with you step by step,

Story and Art

by Lori Gomez

Palette

all the way through to making a great stock that you can keep in your freezer for future meals.

In the morning:

Turkey Brine

2. Dry with paper towels. Discard brine.

A large bucket big enough to completely submerge the bird

Baked Turkey

1 ½ gallons of water 1 ½ cups kosher salt 1 cup chopped onion 1 cup chopped celery 1 cup chopped carrots 2 tbsp. pepper corns 1 head of garlic 2 tbsp. poultry seasoning 4 bay leaves

1. Remove turkey from brine and rinse thoroughly.

1 stick softened butter 1 tbsp Tony’s or Zatarain’s ALSO: 1 tbsp. olive oil 1 tbsp. Tony’s or Zatarain’s 1. Mix butter and 1 tbsp seasoning 2. Lift skin on the breast and rub seasoned butter between the breast and skin

1. Boil water and salt just till salt is dissolved. Set aside to cool

3. Brush olive oil on the skin and season with additional 1 tbsp

2. Remove neck and liver from turkey. Put aside for gravy or stock.

4. Place foil on breast only

3. Clean turkey and set aside.

5. Bake at 450 degrees for 20 minutes

4. Put several cups of ice in the bucket along with all other ingredients, including cooled salted water.

6. Remove foil, lower oven to 350 degrees

5. Mix well, then add the turkey.

7. Baste turkey ever hour

6. Make sure the turkey is completely submerged.

8. Bake for 15 minutes per pound. Turkey should reach 165 degrees internally

7. Cover tightly with saran wrap and foil.

9. Enjoy!

8. Refrigerate overnight.

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Turkey Stock I generally don’t measure any of this but I can give you a guide. You can really use more or less of the ingredients you prefer. I keep a lot of fresh vegetables in my refrigerator at all times. For this, you will need a 16 - 20 quart pot. You can freeze the turkey bones and do this at a later time for convenience.

2 cups of celery (The top leafy part of the head too, so no waste) 1 bunch of green onions 1 bell pepper, any color 2 onions 1 cup carrots 1 head of garlic 2 bay leaves 2 tbsp. poultry seasoning 1 tsp peppercorns 2 tbsp of your favorite seasoning like Tony’s or Zatarain’s The bones of the turkey. (You can also do this with a couple of rotisserie chickens) 1. Rough cut all of your vegetables 2. Put everything into the pot

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3. Fill the pot with water 4. Simmer on low for at least 3 hours, preferably 5 or 6 hours 5. Let cool completely 6. Strain and discard bones and vegetables 7. Freeze in small containers or zip locks to use as needed

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One of the best things about having this stock in my freezer is that, when someone in the family starts feeling sick, I just pull out a couple of containers of it, along with a bag of the turkey or a couple of chicken breasts. In just a few minutes, I can throw everything in a pot along with some vegetables and have an amazing homemade turkey or chicken soup that’s sure to make anyone feel better. My kids call it “Magic Soup”.

I’d love to hear your feedback! Feel free to send your recipes and opinions to: LoriGomezArt@charter.net

Wishing you and your family a blessed Thanksgiving!

This unique rendition of the classic Mt. Olive Church is an acrylic painting that has been completely covered with colorful individual Mardi Gras beads. It is a time consuming and intricate art form, unique to Southern Louisiana. We chose to show this art from Lori’s collection to commemorate the Mt.Olive Feeding Ministry, who will provide free meals for over 200 needy people on Thanksgiving Day!

You can enjoy more of Lori’s art on facebook or by visiting:

www.LoriGomezArt.com

19

Making ₵ents

of your money

It’s retirement time.

Do you know where your money is ?

Do you remember the old public service announcements that ran on TV, right before the evening news? The ones that said, “It’s 10 o’clock. Do you know where your kids are?”

According to Wikipedia (it’s absolutely amazing what you can find on the Internet), the phrase originated in Buffalo, New York, at TV station WKBW. News director Irv Weinstein is said to have begun using

the phrase at the beginning of his career in the early 1960s, at the suggestion of a local viewer. It ended up spreading to many other stations around the country in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. WKBW ran the piece until 2003.

(Trivia note: in an episode of The Simpsons, Homer’s answer to the questions was, “I told you last night, NO!” I found that on the Internet, too.)

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by Mike Rich

I don’t recall if I ever actually saw or heard the announcement, but I do remember my high school days when my parents insisted that I call them if I was going to be out after 9 o’clock. That was in the late 60s, and the only mobile phones in existence were as big as microwave ovens and installed in limousines.

So, if I wasn’t at a friend’s house and could call from there, I had to find a pay phone to check in. It was a pain in the behind but, looking back, I know my folks made me call because they cared about me. Come to think of it, Mary and I insisted that our three kids call us when they were out late, too. I guess parenting hasn’t changed much over the years.

I thought about that TV phrase the other day after I wrapped up a meeting with a client.

Writing up my notes, it came to me that a good question to ask a new client might be “You know, someday it will be retirement time. Do you know where your money is?”

The answer to that question could open up an entire retirement Pandora’s box of stuff, and would probably lead to a bunch of other questions, as well. Really important ones.

So, let’s think about this for a minute. Do you have answers to the following “It’s retirement time” questions?

1.) It’s retirement time: Do you know

if you’ve saved enough money? If you can’t answer this question with some degree of confidence, get some help.

Please. You can find a lot of retirement calculators on the Internet, so that might be a good place to start. Even better, you can work with Andy, Chris, Steve, Robin, or me to crunch the numbers more accurately. We have a pretty cool retirement cash flow calculator that you can’t get on the Internet. It lets us do highlevel, 30,000 foot planning calculations, detail work, Social Security claiming strategies, stress tests for special spending situations, and a lot more. Don’t guess at this one. It is the lifeblood of your retirement plan, so call us now.

2.) It’s retirement time: Do you know how to turn years of saving into income that will last as long as you do?

It might sound obvious, but there is a world of difference between accumulating retirement money and spending it. In retirement, it’s all about three things: cash flow, cash flow, and cash flow.

The total amount of your assets actually matters less than the cash flow those assets can bring into your bank account, and for how long. If you want to figure out how to make that work, meet with us.

3.) It’s retirement time: Do you know how you will pay for your and your spouse’s medical needs and long term care? If you are a long-time reader of these articles, you know

the numbers by now. Medical costs for retirees are going through the roof. Seven out of ten people over the age of 65 are going to need long term care.1 That means you are likely to be one of them.

If you have to pay for it yourself, be prepared for a major shock to your checkbook. In Slidell today, the average nursing home room costs $57,000 a year. Assisted living is $36,000. In-home care is anywhere from $15 to $20 an hour. Those costs are dead-set on cleaning out your retirement account, and they’re growing every year. The fix is simple: let an insurance company pay for your care. It’s what they do, and you’ll end up using a lot less of your money than if you had to pay the bill yourself. Plus, by using a special type of insurance, you can cover the cost of long term care, or get a death benefit for your loved ones, or get your money back if you change your mind down the road.2 Talk about a win-win-win! If you want to learn more about this no-brainer part of retirement planning, call us.

4.) It’s retirement time: Do you know for sure that your money will go to the people you care about, instead of to someone else? It’s amazing to us here at Pontchartrain Investment Management how beneficiary designations on IRAs, 401(k)s, annuities, and life insurance policies can get so messed up, with money potentially going to the wrong people. What’s even more amazing is how many folks come through our door who don’t have wills, powers of attorneys, or living wills, or who have those documents, but haven’t had them reviewed in years.

Bad beneficiary designations and bad legal documents (or none at all) will likely lead to bad endings for your money. If you are uncertain about your own affairs, let us take a look.

Your answers to these questions are critical if you want to retire securely and comfortably. However, if you wait until retirement time to answer them, you’ve waited too long. The best time to start is long before your golden years, especially when it comes to investing money, building a nest egg, and making sure you have the right insurance in place.

Do you know where your retirement money is? To find out, call us for a complimentary appointment, and we’ll start looking.

985-605-5066

INVESTMENT MANAGEMENT

2242 Carey St. Olde Towne, Slidell, LA

1 Probability of needing LTC: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services National Clearinghouse for Long Term Care Information, 10/22/08 2 Benefits are based on the claims paying ability of the insurance company.

Securities and Advisory Services offered through LPL Financial, a Registered Investment Advisor, Member FINRA/SIPC. The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual.

21

The End of the Age of Innocence

by Lee Kreil

One week after the funeral of President John F. Kennedy, Jacqueline Kennedy met with Theodore H. White, a Kennedy confidant and Life magazine writer. In that meeting, Mrs. Kennedy mentioned that a song from the musical Camelot kept playing in her head. The song was a favorite of her deceased husband; a sad song that he often played in their bedroom. The song ended with the words, “Don’t let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment that was known as Camelot.”

In 1963 at 12:30 pm (CST) on Friday, the 22nd of November, our country and the world as we knew it was about to change forever. It was at this time 50 years ago, Dallas, Texas became the epicenter of an event that has continued to send ripples through time to this very day. The 35th President of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, was fatally shot. Our country lost its Commander in Chief that day; in a way too, it also lost its innocence.

22

Prior to the assassination, America was a different place. Conservatism and social conformity were the status quo as the decade of the 1950’s came to an end. Beginning in the early 1960’s, moderate liberalism, as well as the continuing trend toward materialism born of the post World War II generation, were the social norms. The tumultuous beginnings of the “radical” views of the 60’s – racial and sexual equality, anti-war beliefs and religious freedoms (just to name a few) – were beginning to alter the American conscience. The early winds of change that started blowing at the end of the 50’s were but a gentle breeze here and there. Hardly even felt, a newly achieved age of prosperity sheltered most Americans from its effects.

A burgeoning middle class with newfound “recreational time” plus advances in science and technology created a sense of contentment and that everything was the way it should be…or so most American’s thought. But a gust of wind so strong was about to blow across the landscape, shifting people and institutions right off their very foundations.

The historical and pop culture reference to “The Sixties” that most people are familiar with – the period that gave rise to the counter culture movement and hippies, social and sexual revolution, civil rights protests and riots, and anti-war demonstrations – refers more to the cultural era which is generally accepted by historians and academics as the period from 1963- 1974. The assassination of JFK in 1963… this singular moment in time…was the tipping point for change and caused an entire country to look upon itself and the world differently.

It is now 50 years later, with an opportunity to take a different look at the assassination of JFK. This look isn’t about if Lee Harvey Oswald acted as a “lone gunman” or whether or not there was a conspiracy by the government, organized crime, or big business to kill Kennedy. This look will focus on New Orleans and the role the city played; Lee Harvey Oswald’s history with the city; and the man responsible for the only trial ever to be brought to court for the assassination of JFK, New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison.

Marxism and politics, even joining a group called the Young People’s Socialist League.

Moving for the last time with his mother, 1956 would take Lee back to Fort Worth to try the 10th grade again, only to drop out and join the marines at the age of seventeen.

Lee Harvey Oswald was born in New Orleans on the 18th of October in 1939, just two months after his father passed away as a result of a heart attack. Raised by his mother, Marguerite Claverie Oswald, Lee was the youngest of three children having one older brother and an older half-brother. His father’s passing had a huge impact on the Oswald family and by the time Lee was 5 years old, he had moved more times and had lived in more homes in New Orleans (four of those being located in the area of the Upper 9th Ward) than years he had been alive.

After a brief move to the Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas area where he lived in at least two different houses, Lee’s mother brought the family back to Louisiana, settling this time on Vermont St. in Covington, where he first attended school at Covington Elementary. The return stay in Louisiana lasted less than a year before moving the family once again back to the Dallas/Fort Worth area, staying in Texas until mid-1952.

Having problems with truancy and fighting, Lee move three times around New York City from August 1952 through the end of 1953. The juvenile reformatory’s psychiatrist in New York determined that Lee had a “personality pattern disturbance with schizoid features and passiveaggressive tendencies” and recommended that Marguerite continue to have her son receive treatment within the reform system. In January 1954, Lee’s mother once again brought the two back to New Orleans where Lee was enrolled at Beauregard Junior High. He went on to completed the 8th and 9th grades but dropped out shortly after starting 10th grade, opting to work as a clerk and a messenger in New Orleans. It was during this time that Lee joined and served in the New Orleans’ Civil Air Patrol alongside David Ferrie, who would later be named a coconspirator along with Clay Shaw. It was also during this time that Lee became interested in

Conjecture would point out that the one constant in Lee’s life throughout all of the constant moving and change was New Orleans. His time in Texas was as close to a constant home as was his time in New Orleans, but time spent in Dallas and Fort Worth seemed to always end badly; and time spent in New York, emotionally worse. However, when things got bad, Lee’s mother always brought him back to the city of his birth where they always managed to regroup.

All of the following is well known and documented: Lee left the Marines after several incidents, demotions, and a stint in the brig; he defected to the Soviet Union but became disillusioned with the Communist way of life and in short wanted to return to America with his new wife and child to start anew; and then after returning as a repatriated citizen and moving back to Dallas/FW he quickly found trouble once again. The true reason why has been theorized by many, seemingly ignored by the Warren Commission Report as not wanting to stir up any connections to fuel the fire of a conspiracy, and even unknown to an aunt and uncle living in New Orleans at the time, or even his mother. Only Lee Harvey Oswald knows why he chose to move back to New Orleans for the final time, just seven months before the assassination.

Jim Garrison, the District Attorney for Orleans Parish from 1962-1973, made it his duty to find out the answer to why Oswald moved back to New Orleans. He also wanted to know what part, if any, New Orleans played in the assassination of JFK. What connections tied Oswald’s final return to his hometown to a larger conspiracy that might have been orchestrated right in the very heart of New Orleans? To Jim Garrison, there was no doubt of a connection. And he was going to prove it.

Born Earling Carothers Garrison on November 20th, 1921, his family moved to New Orleans when he was just a young child. His parents would soon divorce and he would be raised by his mother. After his military service in the U.S. National Guard during WWII, he attended and obtained his law degree from Tulane University in 1949. He worked for the Federal Bureau of Investigation until his return to active duty with the National Guard. He was working for a New Orleans law firm from 1954-1958 until he became an assistant district attorney. After an unsuccessful run for a criminal court judge seat, Garrison won his next run for public office by becoming the District Attorney in 1961, beating out the incumbent DA in a close five-man race.

It was around this time that he changed his first name and became known as “Jim” Garrison.

Jim quickly made a name for himself battling prostitution and corruption along Bourbon Street in what was dubbed his “Vice Raids.”

These raids in the French Quarter caught the eye of the national media at the time as Jim earned a reputation for cracking down on crime.

It has been suggested that his efforts were more symbolic than anything else, since few convictions came as a result. That being said, Jim was fearless when it came to going after corruption where he saw it. He indicted the incumbent DA whom he beat in his election bid, members of his own staff, local police and state parole board members, as well as local criminal court judges. In most cases, the charges were dropped or acquittals were handed out. It has been implied that, “He (Garrison) makes a lot of arrests without evidence,” and that his passion ruled his decisions.

Passion, patriotism, and his strong feelings for the President were driving forces behind his personal crusade for justice in the assassination.

In 1967, Jim Garrison announced that his office

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was conducting an investigation into the assassination of JFK…a bold move and one that captured the country’s attention. In March of 1967, a prominent New Orleans business man with civic ties to the city was arrested and charged with conspiring to assassinate President John F. Kennedy with the help of Lee Harvey Oswald and David Ferrie.

Oswald and Ferrie were both dead; Oswald had been murdered by Jack Ruby before he could go to trial and Ferrie was discovered dead soon after the announcement was made regarding the case. Garrison thought he could prove Shaw’s involvement even without these other two conspirators and witnesses.

In the case brought against Clay Shaw, Garrison said he was going to prove Oswald’s involvement in the conspiracy and that his time in New Orleans spent publicly campaigning as a Communist sympathizer and support for Cuba and the Soviet Union was a cover up to the real motive of working with entities to help overthrow Fidel Castro. Garrison also accused the CIA of a cover-up that was being operated out of their New Orleans area office. Garrison was also going to produce evidence that would connect Oswald, Shaw, Ferrie, and Guy Banister thus tying several government agencies, anti-Castro groups, and individuals with motives together and, by definition, prove a conspiracy took place.

Garrison would claim the motive for the assassination was anger over Kennedy’s attempt to obtain a peace settlement in Cuba and in Viet Nam. Bannister was a career FBI employee and private investigator in New Orleans where he was once the Assistant Superintendent of the New Orleans Police Department. He was an outspoken anti-communist and supported several anti-Castro groups in New Orleans as well. He worked with a local attorney to try to keep purported New Orleans Mafia boss Carlos Marcello from being deported. As a private detective, Banister had an office at 544 Camp Street, which is the address that is stamped on Oswald’s “Fair Play for Cuba” pamphlets.

He was an associate of David Ferrie who served alongside Oswald in the New Orleans Civil Air Patrol as mentioned earlier. All this could make Bannister the ring leader of Garrison’s alleged conspiracy plot or he could just simply be guilty of a lot of poor associations with several unreputable people.

During the trial which began in January of 1969, Garrison uncovered and presented evidence that Oswald did in fact associate with extreme right-winged anti-communists in the months leading up to the assassination. In the two years preparing for the case, Garrison’s office interviewed dozens of witnesses who could link the four main defendants to each other, the CIA, and a possible conspiracy. However, none of the witness produced by the DA’s office had either credibility or held up under cross examination by the Defense. It took less than an hour for the jury to come back with a not guilty verdict. At the time, Garrison’s case was alluded to as a wild goose chase by a man determined to find justice and evidence wherever he could. Only years later would evidence emerge that backed some of Garrison’s claims and bring legitimacy to several aspects of the case for conspiracy.

Garrison was unable to prove to jurors several key points; he relied too heavily on witness testimony, due to a lack of physical evidence.

Many of these witnesses were either discredited or failed under cross examination. How different would the case have gone if Garrison was able to use some of the newly discovered evidence that has surfaced over the years: A photograph of Ferrie and Oswald together?

Bannister’s proven connections to the other named conspirators? The acknowledgement by former CIA personnel that a cover-up took place regarding anti-Castro operations conducted out of the New Orleans?

This new physical evidence would have supported the accusations made by Garrison. At the time, the accusations were scoffed at and were dismissed or thrown out as hearsay. Now, after all these years, Garrison’s suppositions are accepted as fact.

This picture of Lee Harvey Oswald has been erroneously attributed to being taken behind the Magazine St. house.

It wasn’t. It was taken behind Oswald’s house in the Dallas suburb, right before he moved to N.O. around May 1963. He did have the rifle with him when he lived here for 4 months before moving back to Texas.

4907 Magazine Street today.

Lee and Marina Oswald lived on the right hand side of this double

New Orleans may one day give up her secrets… in another 50 years or so.

That being said, everyone named during the trial had motive and the means to conspire to assassinate the President of the United States.

Slidell was a great example and representation of some of these changes that were taking place during the cultural era of “The Sixties” sparked by the assassination. With the emergence of the U.S. space program and NASA facilities locating in and around the city during this period of time, the population of Slidell nearly tripled bringing a newfound prosperity to the city. A booming middle class that was balanced by a growth in social awareness by minorities and a call for equal rights for women positively

So what does that mean? I just means that Oswald, Shaw, Ferrie, and Bannister could have carried out the conspiracy but doesn’t mean that they actually did. What is known is that each member had ties to and connections with New Orleans during and in the years leading up to the assassination. The city bore witness, but to what? Did the city play a part in the events that led up to the assassination of JFK that forever changed our country and our innocence?

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A close up view of the transom above the front door of the Oswald’s former house in New Orleans

changed the landscape of Slidell at the time. The city was moving away from the status quo and toward a balance between conservatism and the liberal movement. The Kennedy assassination left its mark on Slidell too.

Slidell, deeply involved in the space race, with thousands of NASA employess and huge rocketbuilding facilities, owed much of its growth and prosperity to John Fitzgerald Kennedy. His loss, for Slidellians (as it was for all Americans) was hard felt and heart wrenching. It was the end of an era. The loss of a country’s innocence.

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It is a simple enough thing: a 3 to 6 foot piece of leather, nylon or rope. In a pinch, I’ve even used a bungee cord, which has caused a few stares as I enter my clinic (although it’s quite possible that my new goatee attracted the stares, and the bungee had nothing to do with it). But I digress.

The point is this: one humble item can have the power of life over death.

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Collapsed lungs, torn diaphragms, ruptured bladders, broken bones — just some of the possible outcomes of the 3 most feared letters in any veterinary hospital – HBC, or hit by car. (Actually, GDV are three terrifying letters as well, but we’ll save those for some other time. If you’re really curious, look it up.) Some of the injuries are dramatic and obvious, such as open fractures (what used to be called “compound” fractures, with broken bones protruding through the skin). Some are more subtle, sometimes taking hours or even days to become apparent.

But most of these injuries were preventable with just a bit of planning and common sense.

That item? A leash.

E v e r y d a y, v e t e r i n a r y hospitals receive thousands of trauma patients. For many of them, the lack of a simple leash led to injury. Some fell prey to the unlatched gate; some to the open door and an opportunistic dash for freedom; but for many, it is their owner’s naive belief that a master ’s voice holds more sway than the tasty squirrel across the road. In an instant, a well-intentioned walk turns to tragedy, amid the sounds of squealing tires and screaming brakes.

As doctors, when we are faced with a trauma victim, we have a unique opportunity. Many trauma patients were perfectly healthy prior to getting injured, and can get right back to their previously scheduled lives after we patch them up — if nothing too serious is going on. But separating the seriously injured from the merely bruised and beaten can involve a mountain of testing and anxious waiting. And avoidable expense.

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Not all accidents can be prevented, and most pet owners are responsible and have their pet’s safety topmost in their minds. There are still the lucky few out there who have managed to dodge the bullet, and still walk their dogs off-leash, or allow them to roam unfenced.

Luck tends to run out after a while, and I’m here to tell you the consequences can be deadly. Costly and heart-wrenching for you, deadly for your dog.

Oh, and by the way, in St. Tammany, parish-wide leash laws require that ALL pets, even cats, be restrained by a leash, fence, carrier, cage or house. If you own a pet, any pet, it’s illegal to allow it to roam free.

So, not only is it a really good, common sense idea to keep your pet on a leash, and not only might it save life and limb and wallet... like wearing your seat belt, it’s the law!

P.S.: PLEASE have your dog or cat leashed or in a carrier when you visit my office, or any other veterinarian’s office. Even if Foo-Foo is as well-behaved as you think (believe it or not, some owners actually over-estimate how well their pets behave), the other animals there may not be so obedient. You need to have full control in such an environment. We greatly appreciate your cooperation in this matter. And your pets will appreciate it too!

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GO BEYOND My Canyon Views Story & Photos by Rose Marie Sand

“For each man sees himself in the Grand Canyon, each one makes his own Canyon before he comes, each one brings and carries away his own Canyon.” – Carl Sandburg

E

Eleven years ago, I saw the Grand Canyon for the first time. My friend, Gay Chavez, and I secured a reservation to sleep at Phantom Ranch on the floor of the Canyon near the Colorado River, and had but to hike one vertical mile down the South Kaibab trail to get there.

When I first stood on the South Rim of the Canyon that October day in 2002, I could barely make out the ranch, a lush green spot nestled deep in what looked like the center of the earth.

My Canyon

On the descent, I carried a backpack full of trail mix and a heart full of excitement mingled with trepidation. I ran out of water, blew out one knee, and then the other, about two-thirds of the way down. Gay’s an intrepid hiker, and she ran ahead to the ranch to bring me back some water. I hobbled to the steak dinner at the Ranch’s canteen, listening to the hikers all around the table from all parts of the globe.

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And I knew the only way out would be of my own determination.

Two days later, I followed some advice from a seasoned hiker on the way up Bright Angel Trail – walk as many steps as you can, stop, turn around and see the view, and then do it again. You see, we hiked for nine hours through a hailstorm with our backs to the Canyon on the ascent. Once passing a half-way point called Indian Gardens, there are steep cliffs and agonizing switchbacks. A

hailstorm caught up with us but, with every rain soaked step, I knew I was that much closer to the moment I’d get off the trail, turn around to see that green spot, and say, “I did it!”

But I didn’t get that moment because rain and grey clouds obscured the expansive canyon view. Yet, nothing could erase the self-discovery, the feeling of accomplishment, and the color and splendor of my memories of the Canyon.

It’s hard to explain why it’s been so important to me, but for the last eleven years I’ve dreamed of standing on the rim again and looking down into the Canyon floor, with the knowledge that I once hiked into that upside down mountain and hiked back out.

The journey back

Eleven years later, Gay is now my friend AND my sister-in-law. Gay, my brother Joe, and I set out with a ten-day itinerary through Nevada, Arizona and Utah in September 2013.

Ace

One of the things I most enjoy on vacation is a combination of enough planning to get where I’m going safely, and plenty of time for spontaneity. So I planned a trip that included Las Vegas, Hoover Dam, the South Rim of the Canyon, Sedona, Jacob Lake, the North Rim, Zion National Park, then back to Las Vegas. I knew exactly what I’d bring to ‘My Canyon’ this time - a camera to record the moment when I‘d point to Phantom Ranch from the rim!

September 2013

Our first stop was the Golden Nugget Hotel on the old Vegas strip.

The lighted canopy over Fremont Street has a Bourbon Street-like feeling, complete with topless women, music and bright lights. I prefer our historical party district, but Vegas is like New Orleans in another way – it’s a country all to itself.

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Then we were on to Hoover Dam’s incredible engineering marvel.

When you go there, make sure to take in the tour of the inner workings of the dam and enjoy the art deco beauty around the Visitor’s Center. There is also a bypass bridge 1500 feet south of the dam with a pedestrian walkway – amazing views of an amazing feat.

Next was the small western town of Williams, Arizona and the Grand Canyon Railway Hotel. We spent one night in a spacious room in the charming lodge, enjoyed a buffet dinner and breakfast the next day and then boarded a luxurious rail car headed for the Canyon. The train ride is quite a lovely experience, with plush seating, snacks, and roving entertainers. My favorite was an authentically dressed Navajo singer who serenaded us with a Cajun French version of “Jambalaya” (‘jambalya, crawfish pie, file gumbo…’).

I once read a quote by Don Marquis that goes like this: “Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.” I speculate that all expectations, especially creative ones, are as illusive. The Canyon has an energy all its own, and proves that there’s beauty in the breakdown.

Are you wondering what that moment was like when Gay and I walked to the Rim of the Canyon again? For me, it was just about perfect. You see, it was raining. And there were grey clouds obscuring the view. And I laughed out loud at nature’s irony. The clouds shifted in the winds though, and I got my memorial picture and my moment of completion. And getting to do it with my dear friend Gay was perfect!

We were luckier than many of the visitors who joined us at Pima Point for the last smile of sunset embracing the Canyon walls.

A flash flood had occurred the day before we came, and many people traveled thousands of miles and might have only had one day on the rim. My Canyon was there for me, and I realized that the same forces of nature that carved the deep crevasse are still at work.

We had two days booked at Maswic Lodge, and we made the most of them. When you go to the South Rim, be sure to have a drink in the El Tovar Hotel’s veranda. Around the lodges on the South Rim is a path with a flat sidewalk teaming with a United Nations of vacationers. I saw a group of Buddhist monks, talked to visitors from France and Canada, heard lyrical languages and accented English. I chuckled to myself at a distinctly New Jersey conversation… “Just wait, Marvin. The fog will lift and den you can get yoor pitchers.” Another group speaking musical Spanish was headed by an elderly gentleman carrying an Arizona state flag as if he were leading a parade; and maybe he was.

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Walking along a path called the “Trail of Time”, I happened upon a young Park Ranger giving a talk on the geology of the Canyon near the Yavapai Geology Museum. She passed around rocks found at the bottom of the whole continent, older than dinosaurs and flowering plants. She explained that the river drops 8 – 10 feet per mile, carving the layers of both strong rocks and weaker ones that are prey to erosion.

“It’s like liquid sandpaper full of boulders bigger than your RV,” she grinned.

I was impressed by her knowledge but also by the way she made the information relevant to us.

“The iron in the water here will get in your blood, and will keep you returning,” she said. What a poetic explanation of the magnetic pull of the canyon!

We trained back from the South Rim to Williams, and then on to the North Rim through the artsy town of Sedona, Arizona. A Mexican restaurant called Oaxaca provided our lunch – which in my case was grilled Arizona cactus with Romesco sauce. One of those things you have to try once, and only once.

The next point on the journey was a lodge named Jacob Lake Inn not far from the North Rim of the Canyon. The four-hour drive from Sedona to Jacob Lake is chock with jaw-dropping scenic overlooks, and the Inn proved to be another one of those happy surprises you find while traveling.

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It’s rustic, but with a fine dining restaurant that rivals any big city establishment and a bakery with delectable pastries. Another surprise bonus is that the owner, John Rich, is a renowned collector and expert on hand woven Navajo rugs. I was thrilled to sit in on his lecture about the art form and especially touched when he explained the history of weaving and its intricacies.

Navajo weaving may be a lost art, he explained, as the language isn’t taught to young Navajos, and “you must think in Navajo to understand the patterns.”

John told us about the Navajo Code Talkers in World War II who were assigned to create a code that Japanese couldn’t break based on the Navajo language. The challenge for them was to find words for things that didn’t exist in Navajo – so code for a submarine cleverly became the Navajo words for “iron” and “turtle.” The code was never broken and is credited with saving many American lives. I purchased the book called “Navajo Weapons,” and learned about these brave people. Jacob Lake proved to be one of the surprising highlights of a trip full of both.

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With bags full of the bakery’s delicious cookies, we traveled the scenic forty-four mile highway to the North Rim, a distinctly different experience of the Grand Canyon. Less touristy, very remote, and about 1,200 feet higher than the South Rim,

the North Rim features a lodge that is an historic landmark.

We stayed in a log cabin near a half-mile trail to Bright Angel Point with views that are equally as stunning as in any other part of the park.

The next day started off with a cold drizzle, and Gay and I donned coats and scarves to view the Canyon from this vantage point.

We noticed a hiker toting a portable oxygen tank along the trail, stopped to chat and heard a most remarkable story.

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In the lodge, there’s a photo from the 1920’s of a boy perched atop Brighty, a burro made famous by children’s books and movies. Our trail companion was Martha Krueger, the daughter of the boy in the picture, Robert Wylie McKee. Martha shared the true story of Brighty and her father’s experiences as a child living and working at Wylie’s Way on the North Rim in the 1920’s. To my delight, she gifted me with a copy of her father’s memoir and even gave me a tee shirt printed with the photo of Brighty and her father – what a treasure!

Everywhere I went, I found quiet places with memorable views to write, dropping my “rose petals” as Marquis opined, and memorable people who provided the “echo” of the Canyon’s eternal language. Much of this column was written in a campground café, where a kind woman named Chaplain Rose served me the best coffee of my trip. Her card reads, “Never walk away from someone who deserves help; your hand is God’s hand for that person.”

From the North Rim, we drove back to Vegas through Zion National Park – another one of God’s masterpieces.

After the desert scenery and expanse, the Bellagio Hotel on the Las Vegas strip seemed like a mirage. But we lounged in luxury, took in a couple of shows, and even bet on the Saints game!

Winners all around!

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What I carried away

If you’ve read “Go Beyond” columns, you may realize that I can get all metaphysical about travel just while driving across the Mississippi River Bridge. But there’s something special about seeing the big sky desert crowned by mountains, or mountains inside the earth that expose a billion years of history, that gets into my blood and is part of my own canyon.

Perhaps I won’t hear the echo of a rose petal, but I believe it’s important to stand still and stare at stars and natural wonders of the earth.

It won’t fix the government shutdown. Or help you lose weight or even figure out your next move. But it’s important, because it does help you remember that in the big picture, you’re conversely infinitesimally small and a part of a vast universe.

You’re connected to every person who ever lived or will live – perhaps every breath you take has, at one time or another, been associated with another living organism.

Because just when you think you have it figured out, life changes.

So plan all you want, but leave room for the surprises; remember the beauty, not the disappointments. If the fog slows you down, it probably means there was someone you were meant to meet, or something you needed to do, and you might have rushed right past.

Know that God’s hand is always there, in the people you meet and the places you visit. Trust the process, even when you think there isn’t one. Even when clouds obscure your view. Because the colors are still there, and clouds always shift.

You bring your canyon with you… enjoy your view.

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L

Look! Up there! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a….pelican? At the beginning of the NBA regular season on October 29, we are finally getting our first glimpse of the shiny and new New Orleans Pelicans. Everyone is really excited about this new image for Louisiana professional basketball, and there is a lot to be excited about. Unfortunately, my excitement about the new image and hope for our new season is about where my enthusiasm with basketball ends. Sadly, this sport and I have had a tumultuous relationship, to say the least. I have made my valiant attempts on the court, and the ball just mocks me, as I am sure it purposely misses the hoop time after time. But, silly me I mean - determined me, I continue to try and make the effort. Or at least I used to, until I decided, at 15, that going through the motions just wasn’t enough for me anymore, and that the backboard really wasn’t going to help me out. As the years passed, I have begun to ask myself - what makes this sport so fascinating to other people? Where did it come from? And how come I can’t do a lay-up? Well, maybe that last question will never be answered truthfully (darn you shoelaces!) but I can certainly take a stab at some of the history of basketball and the thrill that surrounds it all.

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We have Dr. James Naismith to thank for the creation of basketball (well, maybe you have him to thank. I am on the fence with gratitude). A physical education professor and instructor in Massachusetts, Dr. Naismith wanted to keep his gym classes active during times that outside sports weren’t available, such as New England winters. After developing a basic set of rules, he nailed a peach basket onto an elevated track ten feet off the ground and lo and behold - basketball was born. Almost as soon as it was birthed, it evolved; most notably with the bottom of the peach basket being removed, thankfully, because who wants to get on a ladder and get a ball out of a basket for every goal? Soccer balls acted as the first basketballs and by the late 1950’s, Tony Hinkle introduced the orange balls that we see in the sport today.

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The history of the creation of basketball is interesting because every new innovation served a purpose. As the sport evolved, we saw dribbling become routine, because passing was the only original way to move the ball. And as manufactured balls became better quality, so did the ability to dribble.

Thank goodness. Think about a bunch of men or women on a court simply throwing a ball around and shooting. Where’s the thrill there, really? The exchange of the peach basket for a metal hoop with a net was made to help keep up the tempo of the game by allowing the ball to pass through without a need to poke it out with a dowel.

Even the backboard has an interesting story.

Backboards were developed to keep people watching from the track, where the basket was nailed to, from interfering with the play on the court. This indirectly invented the rebound.

Besides the literal history of basketball, there are some really interesting traditions in the sport. Take, for example, Taylor University. Every December the basketball team hosts what is known as the “Silent

Night Game”. The Taylor faithful dress up in a number of outlandish costumes, many of them Christmas related, and proceed to remain eerily silent until Taylor scores its 10th point, which is when they go completely crazy. At this point, they have so much pent up energy that they continue to ramp up the intensity until the game is pretty much decided. Then the Taylor fans begin swaying back and forth as they break out into a moving rendition of silent night.

Another interesting tradition involves John Brown University and their first game of every season. Fans show up with rolls of toilet paper and the “TP Game” commences after JBU scores their first goal. Then, the paper is thrown. The court is covered in toilet paper and the team draws a technical foul, every time. It is even known as the best technical foul in all of sports. I wouldn’t mind getting in on that action once in my lifetime. Call it a bucket list item.

While these fun facts and the history about basketball can be...uh...appreciated, I still have trouble getting interested in the sport, despite the fact that it has everything I love about sports. There are so many strategies that can be drawn up to exploit or avoid another team’s strengths or weaknesses, as well as highlight or hide a team’s own strengths and weaknesses.

There are the iconic players, such as Larry Bird, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Michael Jordan; and interesting rivalries, such as the Boston Celtics and the Los Angeles Lakers, or the Dallas Mavericks vs. the San Antonio Spurs. And the fan bases for these teams, college or professional, are some of the most dedicated and faithful fans in all of sports. Even the squeaking of the tennis shoes on the court makes your arm hairs stand up just a little. You would think, “What’s not to love?”

I guess when I really look at my own dislike for the sport, it boils down to my inability to play it.

But then, isn’t that what it always boils down to when we find we dislike something? When I was young, my parents bought me a basketball goal for Christmas. From that point onward, the

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sport and I never got along. I would throw the ball up, and watch it bounce off the rim and run away from me, laughing. It didn’t get better with friends. I would watch guys and girls pass the ball between their legs, throw up three-pointers, and play H-O-R-S-E like it was as easy as pie. But my skills just never developed. My dreams of becoming a basketball phenom fluttered away before they even had a chance to sprout. Probably a blessing in disguise at the time and something that, I assure you, I am well over.

But, at least I have gotten to the point that I can appreciate and respect the sport today.

It is a sport rich with tradition and history.

One of my favorite aspects of basketball is the sport’s inate ability to see where it can improve and find a way to get there.

The various rule and equipment changes have brought about a sport that is efficient and interesting. Basketball has some crazy traditions, like the “Silent Night Game”, that gives it such personality and uniqueness in a way most have never seen before. Despite my problems with my own skills, I have to admit that it is a pretty intense and admirable sport. I guess, at this point in my life, that I can put my differences behind me and give basketball a chance, now that I will be cheering on our new Pelicans as they seek to reinvent themselves in our beloved home town. I am determined to bring myself to a game this season and get everything out of it that I can. But don’t expect to see me throwing that half-court shot at halftime.

I’ll stick with staying up in the stands and blending into the crowd. Heck, maybe no one will even realize that they have a basketball spaz among them.

Corey Hogue November 2013

You can enjoy more of Corey Hogue’s insights on sports by visiting:

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Sli-Ku They can’t ALL be favorites…can they? Last month, I said October is one of my favorite months, knowing full well that November hosts Thanksgiving, MLB playoff baseball, and both college and pro football are well underway!

But after all these years, I just discovered that November is Banana Pudding Lovers Month…(my mouth just hit the floor typing that!)…how did I not know? MOM, how could you have not told me!? Hence forth, November gets top spot on my list; the acme of bliss that is banana pudding settles all debate. Do the math: November = Wonderful but November + Banana Pudding = Deliciously Awesome!! And for the record, in our family it’s called ‘Nanner Puddin’ and we only use ‘Niller Wafers in it, thank you! I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my distant relatives carved the first recipe on a cave wall.

Before I forget - “Dear Santa” letter time is here, so get those letters to Santa written and sent out before the 15th! Halloween has just ended and the big question is what to do with all those carved pumpkins? Well, November 1-3 is Pumpkin’ Chunkin’ Days and, while I’m not endorsing the flinging of pumpkins from a homemade contraption to see who can chunk them the furthest, I’m just saying it might be fun. Other fun might be found during Intimate Apparel Week November 4-8. I find it curious that this “observance” keeps increasing with frequency and occurs five other times during the year.

At this rate, Victoria won’t have too many secrets left!

November 3 is Cliché Day so try to work one of these figures of speech into the conversation. Common examples of these trite expressions are, “As old as the hills,” or “Scared half to death.” That one begs the question - what would happen if you got scared “half to death” twice?? Also this month is Plan Your Epitaph Day. Mine is done and, to the shock of no one who reads Sli-Ku, it is in haiku format. I want anyone standing over my final resting

34

place to walk away with a grin. November keeps up the “wit” theme as Abet and Aid Punsters Day also takes place. My Facebook page is ripe with puns on a regular basis but watch out on the 8th, as I might be “abetting” some of my friends’ pages with the sharing of puns! Hey, don’t blame me…I’m just celebrating a recognized national observance!!

November 16 is Pelican’s on Parade Olde Towne Flock Party! Mother Nature caused a delay to the original date of this event. She was making sure the weather would be a lot more enjoyable for everyone. Olde Towne will be abuzz so come out! Celebrate the Pelicans, meet the artists, and support Olde Towne businesses, sponsors, and Children’s Wish Endowment. It cannot be said enough how impactful this Leadership Northshore Project/CWE “Pelicans on Parade” has been to the City of Slidell, our local economy, and the children of St. Tammany Parish it benefits. Thanks to all involved and a “Thank you!” in advance to everyone who comes out to celebrate at the Flock Party.

This month is dedicated to giving thanks…Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Some of my fondest memories are from Thanksgivings past. I have seen many Thanksgivings and been fortunate to spend a lot with family. Back in the day, there would be as many as 30 family members at my grandmother’s house… those were the best. I have also spent this day without family but lucky to have close friends who made me a part of their family’s celebration. And because of work and distance I have even spent this day by myself. But I always gave thanks for what I did have. Some years I had to look hard while other years it was easy to see what I had to be thankful for. If one looks hard enough, there is always a silver lining to be found.

How do I thank thee?

You give me comfort and joy Oh, ‘Nanner Puddin’

Until next time…

Lee Kreil

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by John Maracich III

The Space Race Rocketed SLIDELL to be the Place We Know and Love Today!

Until JFK challenged the country to lead the way into space, Slidell was known primarily as a nice, rural community built around a creosote plant, lumber yard and brickmaker.

Most of us see the Slidell seal frequently on government vehicles, documents, etc.

But few of us probably notice the tiny spaceship orbiting underneath the word “EFFORT.”

That little shuttle represents how very important the space program has been to the development of this city and much of the Gulf South.

In the early 60’s, when the space race was just heating up, the New Orleans area was chosen to host several crucial components of NASA’s infrastructure. Stennis Space Center in Hancock, Mississippi was the first, testing rockets throughout the evolution of America’s manned spaceflight programs. We can still hear (and feel) these rocket tests in Slidell from time to time - a low frequency rumble that some mistake for a small earthquake.

A high tech, NASA computer complex was also developed on Gause Boulevard. Housing huge, room-sized supercomputers, the complex would service the Stennis facility as well as the Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans East. (Once used to build Higgins landing craft for WWII, as well as Sherman and Patton tanks for the Korean War, the Michoud Facility was converted to build the Saturn V rockets and external tanks for the Space Shuttle program.)

Today...

Slidell, because it housed the computer complex and was a convenient commute to the other facilities, saw its population explode from 14,000 to 30,000. At one point, the three NASA facilities employed 18,000 people - many of whom settled in Slidell. In less than a decade, Slidell was transformed from a rural town into a technological hub.

Many current and former Slidell residents remember with great fondness the economic boom that followed JFK’s famous words: “We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard!”

The space program is in a rebuilding period.

Since the Space Shuttle program was discontinued in 2011, the US has not put a manned vehicle into space. The impact on Slidell has been significant, only softened by the influx of businesses like Textron who have taken up some of the slack. But it’s almost certain Slidell will have its place in putting Americans in space once again when the time is right.

by Donna Bush

W

e arrived home around 11:30pm, after a long, tiring 9-hour drive. After unloading the bare necessities, we poured a well-deserved glass of wine and prepared to unwind on our screened in porch with our two cats. No birds stirred at this hour of the night.

The evening was completely quiet. Then we heard the noise. Mew, mew, soft and tiny sounding. My first thought was someone had kittens nearby in the short few days that we were gone. It was late and dark. The search would have to wait for the morning.

We slept a little late, and then began the chore of laundry and hosing off the muddy paddling gear. I’m inside starting another load of laundry, when my husband called my name and said, “Come see.” I walked outside and there in our chiminea, which sits next to our screened in porch, were 4 tiny kittens!

Of course, they were cute as can be, one tortoise shell, one mostly black, one orange striped and one gray striped. Well, we don’t have any outdoor cats and our indoor cats are most definitely spayed. Hmmm! Now, what to do? Who is Mom and where is she?

We had seen a very young tortoise shell calico in the neighborhood the last month or two. She would hang out under our shrubs, waiting for unsuspecting birds at our feeders.

I’m fairly certain she has caught a couple.

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Since most calicos are female and with one of the kittens also a calico, it seemed fairly good odds that she might be our little mother. We checked on the kittens. They were quietly sleeping. They stirred just a bit, enough for us to know they were old enough to have their eyes open, and back to sleep they went. Mom had taught them well. We put food and water in a protected area, where Mom could get it and still feel safe and close to her kittens. Since summer was in full swing, we were getting very hot days and rain showers. Concerned about the kittens in the hot sun, we moved our patio table closer to the chiminea, opened the large umbrella, providing some shade and cover from the rain for Mom and kids.

Knowing that their eyes were open helped us better estimate their age, probably 10-14 days old. Again the question, what to do?

I first contacted a friend who does a lot of volunteer animal rescue and transport work.

She recommended contacting Ponchartrain Humane Society, a local rescue group.

Unfortunately, being Saturday afternoon, I was getting a lot of after hour recordings.

Knowing that we were leaving town in 3 days for a long trip was putting extra pressure on finding a foster caregiver.

I reached out to the Internet, using Google to locate shelters and agencies that might lend a hand. I started calling every shelter

and adoption organization I could think of, leaving voice messages and sending emails, desperately looking for a home. I contacted ARNO – Animal Rescue New Orleans, St. Francis Animal Sanctuary and local SPCA’s, all to no avail. I then decided to try social media by posting on Facebook that we needed help finding a foster home for Mom and her kittens. I got a wonderful response about the Feral Cat Consortium of St. Tammany Parish. Enter Wendy and Lee to the rescue, our female knights in shining armor. Lee brought us a kennel trap, delivered to our door, complete with tips and instructions on use. We placed the unset trap with the food and water bowls just barely inside the entry. As Mom came inside to eat and drink, we would move the bowls closer to the back allowing her to come completely inside the trap to eat. We decided it was time to go for the gold. We set the trap and anxiously waited. We caught Mom quickly and painlessly for her. We called both Lee and Wendy. Lee generously came and picked up Mom and kittens and transported them to Wendy, who fostered them while we were gone. When old enough, all were given shots and neutered/spayed. Kittens were adopted and we found a home for Mom, where she is enjoying a big back yard and lots of toys, along with her stepsiblings of 3 dogs.

This story had a happy ending, but there are many unowned, uncared for animals in our parish. If you own an animal, please have it neutered or spayed. If you feed an animal, you ARE their owner, please spay or neuter. Per Wendy Guidry, of the Feral Cat Consortium, “Very cute, very happy, very adoptable animals are euthanized every day. The first step in becoming a No Kill shelter is to lower the euthanasia rates. This can only be done by having responsible owners and making it easy and affordable for owners to spay and neuter.” If you need assistance with feral cats in your neighborhood, see the links and contact information on the next page.

Most people adopt a puppy or a kitten. Unfortunately, not many people realize the responsibility and work involved in owning such a young animal. Having a new puppy or kitten is very similar to having a new baby at home. They eat, sleep, poop and play, in quick cycles. Frequently, they will want to play when you desire sleep, or poop when you are at work. Kittens might be a little easier as they quickly learn to use a litter box. Puppies are not quite as easy. Of course, you can kennel the puppy while you are gone. A friend of mine who’s an active, stay at home Mom with college age kids just recently brought home a puppy. She states, “My world revolves around the puppy. If I want to go to lunch with a friend or go for a hike, I have to schedule around the puppy’s routine.” The point is, with bringing home a new puppy or kitten comes a lot of responsibility that most new infant pet owners are not expecting. Hence a lot of young pets are returned when new owners realize how much work is involved in their care and upbringing.

Another more viable option for the pet owner is to look at slightly older to very mature pets. Many of these older animals are in a shelter due to the death or illness of their owner. Some end up in shelters when their owner is deployed. There are many benefits to considering an older animal. By bringing home an older animal, say two years old up to senior, you are bringing home an animal already potty trained, used to a routine and more settled, i.e. less juvenile delinquent. This pet is more likely to tolerate your work and sleep schedule, less likely to destroy your shoes or your sofa, and enjoy bonding with you on your own terms.

Senior animals offer many benefits and ask for so little in return. All they desire are the basic necessities of food and water, along with a little love and attention. In return, they will worship you and provide years of unconditional love.

Just as senior people provide untold wisdom and love, so do our four-legged friends. Please consider adopting an older animal with your next adoption.

Epilogue: Gail Sheffield was one of the early volunteers

at the Feral Cat Consortium. Sheffield, known as the “Cat Lady”, joined the organization shortly after it was formed in 2004 and provided much needed legal and administrative assistance. When Sheffield died last October after a sudden illness, she left $100,000 to the Consortium, once again providing much needed assistance.

CONTINUED ... NEXT PAGE ...

ADOPT ME! “DEAN” German Shepherd and Catahoula

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Male

www.PontchartrainHumaneSociety.org 39

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Feral Cat Consortium ...and the information you need Wendy Guidry & Joanie Diwi to do it!

(985) 373-5937 www.helpferals.org Founded in 2004 by two passionate animal lovers as a means to assist the rising number of feral cats in the St. Tammany Parish area. They are volunteer-based and run a program known as TNR - Trap, Neuter, and Return.

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City of Slidell Animal Control (985) 646-4267 www.slidell.la.us They offer a low cost spay program for Slidell residents. It is partnered with Pearl River County SPCA. Residents buy the coupon from Slidell Animal Control and take their pet to Pearl River County SPCA for the neuter/spay operation. The two also partner on an adoption program through Pet Smart that has about a 50% rate of adoption for cats. The Animal Assistance League of Slidell is a volunteer organization that assists the Slidell shelter in adoption. Animal Control must take animals brought in by Slidell residents, but they are not a No Kill shelter. There is a criterion, by which they decide which animals are adoptable. Not all animals are considered adoptable, and these are euthanized. If deemed adoptable, the animal will stay in the program until adopted.

Director Damian Anti says, “We have one dog that has been here for over 7 months. He will stay here until he is adopted.”

AUTO

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St. Tammany Parish Animal Control (985) 809-0183 www.stpgov.org Similar to Slidell Animal Control, they must take any animal that a resident of St. Tammany Parish brings them. They are not a No Kill shelter and unadopted animals are euthanized.

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Pontchartrain Humane Society (985) 699-9040 www.pontchartrainhumanesociety.org info@pontchartrainhumanesociety.org PHS is a volunteer run, federal and state non-profit corporation providing home foster care for surrendered and rescued animals along the Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama coastal region. They keep everyone regardless of size, age or breed. No discrimination.

No Kill. PHS is always looking for responsible owners, as well as temporary foster homes.

I want to save a dog! saveadog@pontchartrainhumanesociety.org I want to save a cat! saveacat@pontchartrainhumanesociety.org ARNO (Animal Rescue of New Orleans) (504) 571-1900 www.animalrescueneworleans.org A 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to aiding abandoned and homeless animals through education and support. ARNO runs a volunteer based No Kill shelter.

St Tammany Humane Society (985) 892-7387 www.sthumane.org St. Tammany Humane Society is a private, No Kill non-profit 501(c)(3) organization that provides spaying or neutering of feral cats for $37.00. Check their website fee schedule for additional services offered.

Southern Animal Foundation (504) 671-8235 www.southernanimalfoundation.org On Magazine Street in New Orleans, it offers a low-cost spay and neuter program that is open to everyone, regardless of geographic location or income. Call or see their website for more details.

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