Sure sign of spring
April 11, 2017
Sheriff: Woman missing in Lafourche
April 12, 2017
My first column appeared last week and nobody has yet thrown a rock through my window, so being an optimist, I’ll take that as a sign of acceptance. Follow me through the trials and tribulations of running for, winning and holding public office. Fly with me and my band to Washington D.C.; St. Louis, Missouri; El Paso, Texas; Plains, Georgia and Canada. I’ll introduce you to places with French names you might have never heard of where I played music, made political speeches, assessed homes or just broke bread with dear friends who are now departed – places like Tee Caillou (Chauvin), Vacherie (Gheens), Bayou Boeuf (Kramer), Kanale Arvey (Harvey Canal, now Larose), Dulac, Cocodrie, Cote Blanche (Cut Off), Kanale Yankee (Golden Meadow), Choupic, Chackbay and all the wonderful people who live in what I call my Southeast Louisiana Cajun Land.
For generations who don’t know me, or care, here’s a short biography. I was born in what was part of Golden Meadow. A new doctor, John Gravois presiding. Oh yes, my mother was there, too. Our area is now three city blocks north of the Town and is officially Galliano. Our address, until zip codes came along was R.F.D. Cut Off. I still live there, so I have lived in and can claim three towns as my birth place, which didn’t hurt when I ran for public office. The official date was August 4, 1929, two month before the Wall Street crash which brought on the Great Depression. It’s still not clear if I caused the depression or the depression caused me.
My father, Roosevelt (named after Teddy, not FDR) was a fisherman and my mother, Helen, (named after her grandmother, Helen Cox, (from the Luling area) was a housewife and a good shrimp picker. I have only one sibling, my sister Betty, who now lives in Lafayette and has three daughters, Vickie, Ann, and Amy. My grandparents were Eugene and Odile (Collins) Martin and Paul and Irma (Guidry) Callais. Being part of all those families caused Grandma Irma to veto many of my early courtships, claiming we were related. “But Gram”, I pleaded. “We’re only sixth cousins twice removed.” It didn’t matter. She was the family “Don” and her vetoes could not be over ridden.
In 1942, we moved to New Orleans where my dad worked at Higgins Industries building landing crafts during World War II. He left trawling during the 1938 shrimp strike that is depicted in Glen Pitre’s movie “$8.50”.
When the war ended, we moved back to Golden Meadow where I graduated from Golden Meadow High School in 1946. There were only 11 grades then and only 26 in my graduation class; only about 6 are still around.
My first job after graduation was in the oil fields working for Jimmie Wood, wildcatter. The local boys didn’t get the better jobs, so one day, when I was 17, after hauling pipes knee deep in mud, I came home and waiting with my dad was Edless Ledet of General Seafood, a Boston company having a base in Golden Meadow with boats named “40 Phantom No. 1, No. 2,” etc. An old friend, he offered me a job.
I left the $50 a week job for $25 a week, but oh joy … out of the mud into an office as an assistant bookkeeper to Garrison Autin. When General Seafood closed their base, I went to work for Golden Meadow Diesel, Joe Bagala, Harold Rome and Raymond LeLoupe, for $30 a week as a stock clerk.
In 1952, my best friend, Dick Guidry, now deceased, ran for State Representative and I played music and wrote campaign songs for him. He won by 17 votes and became and still is the youngest member ever elected to that body and he arranged for my last two jobs, Driver’s License Examiner for two years and Chief Deputy Assessor. That one lasted 47 years.
More next week, but now I drift off to sleep with music like Dobie Gray’s “Give me the Beach Boys and free my soul” or Crystal Gayle’s “Donuts make my brown eyes blue”. Sometimes the lyrics are hard to make out. BYE NOW!
