May/June 2012 Cover by Dr. Bob.

The first clues that Dr. Bob might have a northshore connection are warning signs featuring the Honey Island Swamp Monster (As Seen on TV) and the wild-eyed albino, Onion Head (Bonfouca Boogie Man), greeting visitors in the studio’s parking lot. So what exactly does an iconic “New Orleans” artist like Dr. Bob know about the mysterious waterways of Slidell? It turns out he knows quite a bit.

Born in Wichita, Kan., Dr. Bob is of Crow Indian, French and German descent. His dad was an engineer for aerospace manufacturing giant Boeing Co. The family was among the first wave of “come here” high-tech workers (“missile gypsies,” as Dr. Bob calls his family) who settled in the Slidell area after Boeing won the contract to build the first stage of NASA’s Saturn V moon rocket at the Michoud plant in New Orleans East.

Coming of age at the dawn of suburban development in St. Tammany meant endless adventure to Dr. Bob. “To a kid from Kansas, it was like being in Jurassic Park down here. Every where you turned, something moved, slithered, splashed, jumped or growled,” he remembers. “I started out discovering the secrets of the South, so to speak—all these opportunities to go fishing and hunting. Walking out your front door with a dip net and a flashlight or a frog gig made out of a nail and a broom handle—man, you could catch whatever you wanted to.”

Listen to Dr. Bob recounting his mischievous, if not misspent, youth spent in St. Tammany and it quickly becomes obvious that his time spent exploring the parish’s streams, woods and swamps has greatly shaped his art as much as his subsequent adventures later in life in New Orleans and throughout the South.

Dr. Bob poses with his wire sculpture of Tammanend.

Dr. Bob’s storytelling intersects modern pop culture and the places that “ain’t dere no more” when he explains why he thinks he knows what’s behind the recent sightings of the northshore panther. “We had a neighbor, Arthur Jones, who later on invented Nautilus fitness machines. He owned a snake farm by the old White Kitchen on the road to the Gulf Coast. [Reptile Jungle, where Highways 90 and 190 meet.] That’s where Jayne Mansfield was killed when her driver ran into the back of a truck. We were at Bosco’s Restaurant in Slidell when we heard that. They took her car to Eddie’s Esso in Slidell. I saw that,” he digresses, then gets back on track with the panther. “Mr. Jones kept wild animals and snakes in his home, too. He had a pair of breeding jaguarundis that he kept in a bathtub with a sliding glass door he kept jammed up with a broom handle so you couldn’t slide it.”

Intrigued about the northshore panther reports, Dr. Bob did some research. “The climate is just the same as in Central America, and they describe jaguarundis as cocoa-colored—and they are blackish-looking—and I’m getting tickled over all this.” He brought it up in a visit with his friend, musician Coco Robicheaux, who died last November. (Robicheaux became known nationwide in 2010 for performing a bit of voodoo on the HBO show Treme.) “He was raised in Slidell and his real name was Curtis Arceneaux. Curtis and I used to catch snakes and lizards to sell to Mr. Arthur to feed his snakes and reptiles and stuff. We’d get a dollar for a turtle. That’s big money in the ’60s. Before he died, Curtis and I got to talking about Arthur Jones, who moved from the middle of Slidell to Palm Lake subdivision. Did those cats get away from the old White Kitchen? Or in the move? Or when Camille passed Slidell? Somehow, people are seeing these things and I truly believe it could be those jaguarundis.”

Dr. Bob's northshore icons.

What about Onion Head, the Boogie Man of the Bonfouca? Turns out tales of the mythological monster were made up to scare the youth of Slidell, tales equally believed as tales of the Loup Garou are by the children of Acadiana.

To paraphrase Dr. Bob and make the tale fit for print in a family magazine, he says it all became too real one evening as he and a young lady were “necking” out by Bayou Pacquet. “We were in my daddy’s ’67 Impala and a pine cone fell and hit the roof. BAM! That was the end of that.” The girl (who will remain nameless) screamed, ‘Onion Head! Get the hell out!’ And when she screamed, you see three more cars’ lights pop on and everybody’s hauling ass out of Bayou Pacquet ’cause Onion Head’s coming.”

Dr. Bob’s Art

Dr. Bob is self-taught. The first piece of art that he made and sold was as much a product of the boredom he faced in an early stint as a forest ranger in northern Louisiana as any big creative urge. “There was nothing else to do with no cable and only two TV stations. The Album Hour out of Natchez was the first time anybody heard Lynyrd Skynyrd, so we’re out there turning the antenna up on the hill trying to tape it on a cassette player. We wanted some rock ‘n’ roll, living up in the boonies.”

Mr. Okra.

Going back to his days in the swamps, he carved an alligator. But it wasn’t just a wooden gator. It was a musical instrument. A “ga-tar.” “I can’t play, I can’t sing and I was told I couldn’t carry a tune in a No. 3 washtub, so I made a washtub base. I wanted the neckpiece to be like snakes.” With an alligator’s head carved into the end, he says, “I put the eyes and the teeth in it. It’s the ga-tar, boys! Play one string at a time.” When he unveiled it, he says, “Everyone laughed. It turned into my first piece of art and sold to a New York collector. Last time it changed hands was 15 years ago for $5,000, and it’s in a private collection in New Jersey now. ”

Dr. Bob has since carved two more of these alligators in a labor- and time-intensive process. It takes hours and hours of sanding, he says, and adds that, “Once I get through with the sanding, I do the steel wool and get that down to 0000, which is really fine. After getting the wax on, it’s like butter.” The carved gators serve as demonstration pieces at art shows, where Dr. Bob shows off their finish. “I like to take a rag and just throw it and it slides down the gator, it’s so slick. I take a lot of pride in making it. It’s dangerous. A piece can go wrong after you spent months on it, bust it all to hell.”

He uses real alligator teeth in the alligator and dog pieces. “I get the eyes from anywhere that deals with glass or marbles; the guys at Studio Inferno around the corner are good at keeping me supplied. I buy my alligator teeth by the pound. People ask how I get ’em. I say, ‘Very carefully.’”

Found objects are the basis for much of his art. In an ironic twist, the storm that nearly killed him has ensured a steady supply of discarded signs, lumber, doors and window frames to forage in the decimated areas around his studio. “After the hurricane, I scoured the neighborhoods for what little bit of old New Orleans was left.”

Many of the bottle caps that he uses to bejewel his creations come from the Abita Brewery. He also has a stash of Barq’s root beer bottle caps and wood from the old Barq’s crates with the slogan “Drink Barq’s—it’s good!” stenciled on the sides. Dr. Bob recalls the old Conti St. warehouse. “It smelled intoxicating; that raw sassafras and birch just permeated that building. To this day, you walk in there and it knocks you over.

“The things that mean the most to me are things that come to me by magic,” Dr. Bob says. He has two rescued Union Beer signs from one of New Orleans’ first commercial breweries that are waiting to become part of some artwork, and, he says, “One of the only Dr. Nut signs in existence. It was on the gable-end of a building.” Dr. Nut, a local soft drink that ceased existence in the 1970s, is etched in literary history as the favorite beverage of Ignatius Riley in Confederacy of Dunces. Dr. Bob has cut an alligator-shaped portion out of the sign and, after adding eyes and teeth, will incorporate it into a piece assembled in tribute to the character. “I was thinking, I’ve got Ignatius done, and I want to make up some Dr. Nut bottle caps if I can’t find them online. I have to get the right eyeball to put on him to keep an eye on Ignatius.”

Be Nice or Leave

Even Dr. Bob’s catch phrase, “Be Nice or Leave,” has a back-swamp back-story. It started when Dr. Bob and some of his fellow St. Paul’s students took to the river to do some fishing on a holiday.

“We’d get a six-pack of Dixie, a pack of Marlboros and go out and act like we’re 14-year-old men. I drew the short straw, so I had to go get the beer,” says Dr. Bob. A Pearl River dive bar behind the St. Joe brick works was where the underage artist-to-be entered to buy the day’s “refreshments.”

“It was called Working Man’s Paradise, owned by a man named Edgar Ducre; it was painted red with black and white dice on the building and spelled ‘paradise’ for ‘pair of dice.’ It just intrigued me.” The scene inside the bar made an even bigger impact on Dr. Bob. “The interior was painted this turquoise blue that makes you feel like you’re in Haiti or something. On one wall was this big painting of Edgar Ducre’s son who went to LSU. He’s in his uniform riding Mike the Tiger and throwing a football. It’s awesome; it’s painted really good.”

Then he says, “That’s where I saw ‘Be Nice or Leave.’ It was written with a Marks-A-Lot on a piece of a cardboard beer box. When I got my order and turned to leave, the back of the sign said, ‘There’s Nothing in the World Worth Getting Killed Over.’ It hit me that I didn’t belong there, that I could get killed.”

His Be Nice or Leave signs can be found hanging all over the city, and he’s constantly commissioned to make signs with a personalized spin on the phrase. He has his own versions on sale as well. Be Nasty and Stay, Shut Up and Fish and Shut up and Eat are variations, and he paints Be Nice or Be Bitten signs that he donates to local animal shelters for them to give to donors and people adopting pets.

Dr. Freakin’ Bob

How did Dr. Bob, a man of no obvious medical training, get the name Dr. Bob? He’ll be happy to tell you. It was at the birth of the S.O.B.—the son of Bob, his boy Isaac. “My nickname came when I was helping deliver him at Lakeside Women’s Hospital. Lamaze failed, and we had to do an emergency C-section. I was in the sterile field, so I assisted with it. The nurse, Margie Vanderbeck, who I went to school with, said ‘Well, doctor freakin’ Bob,’ and that was it.”

Dr. Bob participates in many charitable endeavors in the New Orleans area and Bay St. Louis, where the first gallery to carry his work is located, and in Memphis and Washington, D.C. When Mr. Okra, a beloved New Orleans’ roaming vegetable vendor, needed a new truck, neighbors and businessmen rallied to help, as Mr. Okra had become a necessity in Katrina-ravaged neighborhoods after so many local grocery stores had closed. Dr. Bob helped organize the benefit and provided the decorative painting for the new truck. “My piece-de-resistance,” he says.

His work is now found in many private collections and museums throughout the South. Dr. Bob is a regular participant in the Kentuck Festival of the Arts in Tuscaloosa, Ala. A piece was featured in the Smithsonian Magazine in 1999; the Smithsonian’s affiliate, the Memphis Rock ‘n’ Soul Museum, also includes one of his pieces in its collection.

“I did it! I used to tell my friends, ‘Screw you, I’m going to be in the Smithsonian, and then I’m going into the Louvre!’” he says, with only one more internationally-known institution to go.

Dr. Bob’s work can be found at drbobart.net.

The Southern Hotel soon after it was completed. Photo courtesy Rusty Burns.

The hotel was built in 1907 during the glory days of the “Ozone Belt,” when the area enjoyed immense popularity as a resort. The cool air flowing out of the piney woods was welcome in the days before air conditioning, and area waters, whether from springs or deep wells, were reputed to be medicinal. The Southern Hotel and others on the northshore thus attracted guests from all over the country.

Lisa Condrey Ward purchased the Southern Hotel along with her husband, Joseph, her brother Ricky Condrey and his wife, Gayle, in 2011. She is familiar with its history, noting, “It catered to northerners during the winter and New Orleanians during the summer.” They purchased the building last November, but it had been on her mind since she first saw it. “We moved here from New Orleans in 1999. I started talking about it, probably the day after we moved here, ‘Gosh, why hasn’t somebody turned that back into a hotel?’”

The Southern Hotel. Photo courtesy Rusty Burns.

Their plans are to renovate the mission-style, 34,000-square-foot building and open it as a boutique hotel. Ward has hired architect Peter Trapolin of New Orleans, a veteran of several successful historic hotel renovations.

While it’s still on the drawing board, Ward says, “It’s going to have 41 rooms and a restaurant on the New Hampshire corner. We’re looking for an exciting restaurateur to work with on the build-out.” She hopes her plans for the property spark as much interest in what the area has to offer today’s visitors as the elements did at the turn of the century. “I want people to come here and enjoy things like the bike path—we’re going to have bikes available and kayaks for the river.”

Renovations include facilities that Covington residents will be able to take advantage of as well as the hotel’s guests. “We’re going to have a ballroom and space for business meetings.” Ward notes the building is in the shape of a “u” that opens onto the alley that runs from New Hampshire to Vermont. “We’re going to close that in and have the ballroom and all those spaces spill out into a really beautiful courtyard. It will be a very nice party space. The hotel bar will be open to everyone, and that’s going to have access to the courtyard, too.”

Echoing Mayor Cooper’s optimism in the project’s role in the revitalization of downtown Covington, Ward says, “I think there’s going to be a renaissance. Covington is already a great little town. My personal vision is to expand the types and diversity of businesses into something similar to what Magazine Street has in New Orleans. If we put that together, get the movie theater open—and hopefully the hotel will be an ideal catalyst for that—it will become a really wonderful, pedestrian-friendly city that has a lot to offer.”

In 2011, we saw several major projects come to fruition, including the groundbreaking of the Associated Wholesale Grocers warehouse in Pearl River, a 720,000-square-foot facility that will bring 300 permanent jobs to our parish when it opens later this year. Indeed, economic data—which we track and publish quarterly in our Trends Report—show we have fared much better than the state and nation during the recent recession. While unemployment hit double-digits in many places, it remained at or near a healthy level here. Business startups continue apace, and the housing market is beginning to show signs of growth.

But we don’t rest on the successes of the past. At any given time, we have about 40 projects in progress, and some, such as AWG, take years to fulfill.

More than ever, we are focused on business retention. Keeping our economy healthy and our job growth steady involves more than just reaching out to new businesses and encouraging them to locate here, although that is vital to our mission. It also involves nurturing the businesses that are already here, helping them succeed by navigating state incentive programs, offering free educational opportunities and coordinating with municipal, parish and state officials as advocates for local businesses of all sizes.

Our biggest goal for this year is to expand St. Tammany’s inventory of certified sites, which are parcels of land that are ready for development. Louisiana Economic Development has already certified two such sites in St. Tammany, and two more are under review. Additionally, Cleco, which in 2010 launched its SmartSites program, is working to certify land at St. Joe Industrial Park in Pearl River. Sites successfully completing Cleco’s program will be promoted by Cleco nationwide as available, fully served and developable. We are also working with local landowners and developers to identify 100- to 250-acre tracts of land to keep the process virtually continual; our goal is to have six certified sites before year’s end.

While many of our efforts are behind the scenes, the impact can be seen everywhere in St. Tammany, from major construction projects to increased housing sales as new families move here to follow new jobs. Of course, nothing exists in a vacuum, and responsive local governments, comprehensive rezoning, low crime and quality education are all factors in our work—factors to which we contribute in a variety of ways.

Brenda Reine Bertus is the executive director of the St. Tammany Economic Development Foundation.

An author of four published books, Humberto’s first two books recount his outdoor adventures, while his most recent works have been directed at debunking, in his view, the myths surrounding the architects of the Cuban revolution. Over the years, both topics have landed him television appearances and public speaking engagements.

Humberto Fontova relaxes at home with his faithful companion, Hunter.

Humberto’s life spent embarking on hunting and fishing exploits culminated in two books, whose rather lengthy and quite descriptive titles are The Helldivers’ Rodeo: A Deadly, Extreme, Scuba-Diving, Spear Fishing Adventure Amid the Offshore Oil-Platforms in the Murky Waters of the Gulf of Mexico (published in 2001, and hereafter referred to as Helldivers) and The Hellpig Hunt: A Hunting Adventure in the Wild Wetlands at the Mouth of the Mississippi River by Middle-Aged Lunatics Who Refuse to Grow Up (published in 2003, and which we’ll call Hellpig).

Swamp Man

When Humberto was 11, the Fontova family settled on Neyrey Drive in Metairie, which was paradise for an adventurous kid. “From Causeway to Lake Villa to West Esplanade, that was our stomping grounds,” he recalls. In 1965, much of the area was undeveloped. “You had woods and pastures from West Esplanade to Lake Pontchartrain. I’d get on my bike with my Benjamin pump pellet gun and my fishing pole and a couple of buddies, and we’d spend the whole day along the lakefront, shooting rabbits, catching trout, crabbing—I look back on those years and, think, ‘Oh man!’”

Humberto remembers, “Technically, it was illegal to hunt back there. We’d do it with pellet guns, dodging the cops; the JPs would chase us into the briars—but they’d never chase us far. A couple of times we got caught, but it was just, ‘Y’all go home.’”

Humberto got older, but, as hinted to by the titles of his books, never outgrew being a kid on a bike with a pellet gun. He just became an older and even more passionate outdoorsman who hunts and fishes to this day with the same guys that accompanied him on his boyhood adventures. Responsibilities—they’re taken care of, but sometimes with the migratory schedules of waterfowl calling the shots, so to speak.

Humberto (Disco Che) and Shirley during the disco days.

A photo of Humberto and his wife, Shirley, taken during the height of the ’70s disco craze depicts a younger version of the couple. Because of his dress, hair, moustache and beard, he calls this depiction of himself “Disco Che,” a reference (but, we’ll learn, not a complimentary one) to Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara. Taken at Nicholls State, where Shirley was going to school, it was just a few months after they met during spring break in Panama City Beach.

“It turned out that we grew up about two miles from each other; I grew up on Neyrey and she grew up on Bissonet. I went to Rummel; she went to Grace King, which was right behind my house. Our paths had never crossed until we met at spring break. We met in April ’77 and were married on December 16 in ’78. I was in graduate school at Tulane at the time. The reason we got married that day was that duck season has a split in the middle, and it was the weekend of December 16. I’m fanatical about duck hunting and was probably more so at the time. Not only didn’t I want to miss a duck hunt, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get any of my groomsmen to come!”

Helldivers and Hellpig

After graduating from college, Humberto worked in sales and marketing for Dunn and Bradstreet. “With an international company like that,” he says, “every two years came the option to relocate, obviously with a promotion, but I kept turning them down. Shirley’s family was all here; my family was all here. Where else in the world can you be in your 40s or 50s sitting around a campfire with the guys you went to high school with who stood in your wedding?”

“Finally,” Humberto notes, “it came to a point where they said they weren’t going to have a New Orleans office anymore.”

Humberto had been writing a monthly feature for Louisiana Sportsman magazine detailing his hunting and fishing adventures. When his company closed its New Orleans location, Shirley, his wife said, “If we’re not going to move, plunge into your real vocation full-time.” Humberto decided to stick around and says, “I’ve never regretted it.”

The Helldivers are a group of guys, a dive club. Humberto was not a member of the club, but he was friends with some of its members and occasionally dove with them and some of the guys he tore around the wilds of Metairie with as a boy.

The Helldivers book came out with an unusual connection, a thread, so to speak, to Humberto’s disco days. “To dive in the summer off Louisiana, obviously you don’t need a wet suit to keep you warm; that’s not the issue. You need something to keep you from getting ripped to shreds on the barnacles. Cajun divers used what they called a ‘Cajun wet suit,’ which was blue jeans and a lumberjack shirt. Those were cotton and absorbed water. They were selling something in dive shops called a ‘dive suit.’ It wasn’t insulated; it was just polyester. As I was looking at these suits and the price tag on them, I said, ‘I’ve got some of this material at home: my old disco clothes.’ So we go out to the rigs, I’ve got the angel-flight bell-bottoms and the floppy disco shirts.”

Humberto says it was an interesting, if shocking, sight for the hard-working roughnecks out on the rigs when they saw a boatful of guys with masks and tanks on—and bell-bottom pants. “It was even more interesting under water. You’re flapping under water and your collars are flowing and the bell-bottoms are billowing.

He ended up writing an article called “Disco Diving,” which evolved into Helldivers, and also began his television appearances. The book caught hunting advocate and rock ’n roller Ted Nugent’s attention, and he recommended Humberto to Bill Maher as a panelist on Maher’s show, Politically Incorrect, when Maher wanted to tackle a hunting-related topic.

As the only hunting advocate on the panel, which was led by PETA board member Maher, Humberto faced down actor James Coburn on one show, pointing out that Coburn and the other panelists had been eating the meat-containing hors d’oeuvres backstage before the show. Humberto invoked Coppolla’s The Godfather by saying, as he recalls, “You know something? Somebody killed those animals, so the only difference between you folks and me is the difference between Michael Corleone and Don Barzini. Mikey insisted on making his own hits; he insisted on going into that restaurant and shooting Sollozzo and McCluskey. Y’all are Barzini; I’m Mikey. That’s the only difference. We’re just as responsible for the death of that animal.”

At a later appearance on the show, Humberto tackled a group of vegetarians, including comedian Tom Green, activist Howard Lyman and actress Florence Henderson. “Mrs. Brady actually took my side,” Humberto laughs as he remembers the Brady Bunch star. Humberto confronted the group about tofu, pointing out that soybeans that make tofu have to come from land cleared for cultivation. “A 50-acre tract of hardwoods that I used to hunt in was cleared for soybean cultivation. In the process of that clearing, they killed more cute furry squirrels, they rolled over more rabbits, they killed more animals in two weeks of clearing that land for your tofu than I’ve killed in five years with my gun and bow,” he recalls saying.

He will often humorously point out that while “free range” chickens are the rage, he goes one step further: “I insist on catching all of my animals in the act of free-roaming!”

The Hellpig Hunt was, he says, almost a continuation of Helldivers. “The same cast of characters doing things that people can relate to more than spear fishing on rigs, which is really just a South Louisiana thing.”

Taking place in what seems like the end of the earth in the Pass a Loutre Wildlife Management area at the mouth of the Mississippi, Hellpig follows Humberto and his buddies indulging in all the bounty nature has to offer in that remote spot. A morning hunting ducks is followed by an afternoon catching redfish and an early evening bow-hunt for deer, all in the same area.

As if that’s not enough, “We ran into some guys who were hunting pigs with dogs. It’s crazy. They catch the pigs alive. They caught a gigantic pig, and that’s where the title, The Hellpig Hunt, comes from.”

Sharing the Bounty

For Humberto, it all comes down to family, friends and sharing his catch. It also ties into living on the northshore; his family has called Covington home since 1989.

“The beauty of hunting around here is that I can hunt within 15 minutes of my doorstep. But the really important thing is that I get to hunt with my father, who’s 85 years old. He lives in Metairie right off Causeway. He hitches up the trailer with the four-wheeler, he’s here in 45 minutes and 10 minutes later, we’re on it. He’s back home by noon. We get some meat, and we get to hunt together. That’s the important thing for me, to share the experience with him. Lots of times, it will be my dad, me, my kids or my nephews hunting—three generations of Fontovas hunting.”

Humberto shows off a fresh haul of ducks.

Given all the creatures the Fontovas have harvested over the years, there is a seeming lack of stuffed animals in the Fontova home. Humberto says that’s not the important thing—only a few people, hard-core hunters, really appreciate trophy heads. “The way I do it, the trophy comes out on the serving platter. Venison fajitas and nachos, deer back strap in mushroom burgundy sauce, duck gumbo and even nutria sauce piquant. Share that with your family and friends and everyone can appreciate your trophy. For us, to share is the joy of hunting. It’s a family thing. We go on vacation and we eat fish, ducks and deer that we pulled out of the woods and the waters every day. Deer nachos, duck gumbo, bronzed redfish—that’s our family vacations. That’s the trophy; that’s what makes it all so rewarding.”

The Debunker

Humberto’s latest books are rooted in his family’s experience as émigrés, coming to America in 1961 following the Cuban communist revolution. Fidel: Hollywood’s Favorite Tyrant (published in 2005) and Exposing the Real Che Guevara: And the Useful Idiots Who Idolize Him (2008) are his efforts at debunking what he believes are myths perpetuated by the media and academia. While his hunting exploits landed him some exposure on the now-defunct Politically Incorrect, (he’s not been invited on Maher’s HBO show with a similar format, Real Time), his Cuba books resulted in Humberto’s often being tapped as a commentator on Cuban issues on conservative TV and radio shows, including those of Bill O’Reilly, Sean Hannity and Glenn Beck.

“My dad was an architect; my mom was a college professor. When the revolution took over, it was a no-brainer; it was turning into a Stalinist regime. My parents saw it coming.” He was only 7 years old, but he remembers the harrowing time of their escape. Although his parents believed all of their paperwork was correct, Humberto says, “We were getting ready to board the plane, and soldiers came out and grabbed my dad. At that time, the firing squads in Cuba were killing hundreds of men and boys weekly. My mom told my dad, ‘If you can’t come with us, we’re not leaving.’ We were going to a strange country with only the clothes on our backs; we didn’t know the language. He said, ‘Whatever happens to me, I don’t want my children growing up in a communist country. They have no future here.’ So momma kind of sucked it up, and we got on the plane.”

They arrived in Miami, where his mother learned his father had been placed in jail. Having some close relatives in New Orleans, the family headed there. After some time, they received a call that his dad was on his way to join them. “Our story had a happy ending, but tens of thousands of Cuban families did not,” he says.

Kicking it in Covington

When he’s not making TV or radio appearances or penning books—a new one may be in the works, based on his years of writing about the outdoors—he enjoys the convenience of living in Covington. Not only is he close to his deer lease, when hunting season is over, “I can go four blocks down the street and put my pirogue into the Bogue Falaya or lower Tchefuncte. I’ve got my little pole, and I come back with a bucket full of catfish and bream. You can’t beat that with a stick. And people wondered why I didn’t want to relocate?”

Prior to her recent inauguration, Pat’s transition team orchestrated a smooth changeover from Kevin Davis’ leadership. The team was directed by Howard Daigle, managing partner of the Daigle Fisse & Kessenich law firm. He says, “I think we’ve been blessed with very good leadership for the past 12 years with President Davis and the members of the council that have served with him.”

Howard believes that with this solid foundation, residents won’t see many dramatic changes under Pat’s guidance, but there will be a new focus on economic development. He explains, “We will see a far more robust economic development effort supported by a realignment of the administrative organizational structure to support that mission more clearly and better align the administration’s efforts to provide the services that residents are expecting and need from their government today.”

Shortly after her election, Pat spoke at a St. Tammany West Chamber of Commerce luncheon. Following that event, we asked her to tell us more about what we could expect to see under her leadership as parish president.

IN:        What do you see as the most important issues for St. Tammany Parish in 2012?

PB:        Just as in other parts of the country, the economic downturn has hit St. Tammany. While we have not been as negatively impacted as most of the country, it has caused our revenue to shrink. One of the most important things we will face in 2012 is finding a way to provide the services our citizens want and need with less money. We will look very closely at how our tax dollars are spent while we develop a more pro-active economic development plan that will bring more jobs to our area. In addition, we will always have infrastructure and drainage issues with which to contend and will have to find efficiencies in those areas also.

Pat Brister. Photo by Thomas Growden.

IN:        Are there specific barriers to economic development that you will focus on in the short term? Can you elaborate on the pro-active economic development plan, including partnerships with the chambers, Northshore Business Council and Economic Development Foundation?

PB:        It will be necessary to look at all issues affecting our economic development, including planning and zoning, taxing and impact fees. We will pull together the different organizations in St. Tammany to come to the table with their wealth of knowledge, ideas and resources. One of my strengths is the pulling together of ideas from many areas and coming up with an overall program of work to best use those ideas. In my conversations with leaders of the organizations mentioned, I have learned that they are willing and excited to work with my administration to accomplish our economic development goals.

IN:        You’ve mentioned the importance of film production jobs for St. Tammany’s economy. How will you help the growth of the technology sector?

PB:        There has been a lot of work done in this area already, and we will expand on what has been started. In this regard, regionalization will be even more important than ever. I have a great working relationship with the leadership of our neighboring parishes. I will work with GNO, Inc. and the Louisiana Economic Development department to make sure we are at the table when decisions are made to go after the companies in the technology and film industries. The move by Globalstar to St. Tammany has given us a very good entrée into the Silicon Valley companies that are looking to move to a more economical area of the country. We must also make sure we have the educated and trained personnel that these companies will need.

IN:        How do you plan to communicate and work with local government leaders, leaders of the business sector and other community leaders in St. Tammany?

PB:        I have already started an outreach to other government leaders in St. Tammany. Those with whom I have spoken have agreed to meet regularly to discuss issues that are important to all of us. The municipalities are eager for us to join forces in attracting new jobs and businesses. Before being elected, I served as executive director of the Northshore Business Council for four years. This organization is made up of CEOs from 50 of the top companies in our area. I have already built a relationship with them and will continue to foster that relationship while reaching out to other companies to be a part of our vision of job growth in St. Tammany. I have been involved with numerous organizations over the years and built relationships with community leaders through that involvement. But, as with everything else, continued effort will be put forth to make sure these relationships grow.

IN:        How will your experience with the U.S. delegation on the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women play into your role as parish president?

PB:        The experience I gained during the four years on the U.N. Commission will certainly be put to use when working with different groups to come to a compromise on issues that separate us. I understand how to negotiate for the most important parts of an agreement while realizing every stakeholder has a strong opinion on what is important to them. I know how difficult it is to get everything you want in negotiations and I have learned you often have to take a step at a time to reach your goal. While there will never be issues as divisive as the ones I faced at the U.N., the techniques are the same when trying to reach a conclusion that benefits the residents of St. Tammany Parish.

IN:        How will your experience as chairman and vice-chairman of the St. Tammany Parish Council help you in this position?

PB:        I was very fortunate to have been elected by my fellow council members to serve as chairman of the council for two years and vice chairman for two years. The experience I bring from those years helps me understand the working relationship between the council (the legislative) and the parish president (the administrative) sides of parish government. The charter spells out responsibilities of each of these arms of government and gives a good roadmap as to how St. Tammany should be run. That will be the basis of my administration—the Parish Charter and what responsibilities are given to each.

IN:        Please elaborate on your plans for working with the legislative delegation in Baton Rouge.

PB:        Over the past several years, I have sought to develop a good working relationship with our delegation. We have a dedicated group of legislators who have come together to form a very powerful bloc. I have already begun conversations with many of them to continue that relationship. I also will work to have a location where members of our delegation and parish leaders can meet whenever necessary to discuss specific legislation in a timely fashion. It is vitally important that the parish administration and our delegation work together to ensure that we are on the same page when it comes to helping St. Tammany achieve our legislative goals. That can be done more effectively if I spend as much time as possible in Baton Rouge during the legislative sessions. Other parishes have been very successful by using this method of communication.

IN:        With the many demands of official duties, how do you juggle family responsibilities as well?

PB:        I have been so fortunate to have the full support of my family—particularly my husband. We are at a time in our lives that affords me the freedom to pursue this job fully. Our children are grown and married with their own families, and my husband is totally retired. He was wonderful during the campaign period, making sure everything on the home front ran smoothly. He has worked most of his life to give our family the freedom to make the most of our opportunities, and he continues to do that for me today. I will never be able to thank him enough for his love and support. I will always strive to make him proud of my actions as parish president.

It was his relentless prodding in getting the state government on board with his planned highway improvements that earned him “The Road Warrior” moniker. It was that same determination to make St. Tammany what it can be that has created unprecedented opportunities and ensured the parish would pull through the greatest challenges it’s ever faced.

It was 10 days after his wife, Maria, had given birth to baby John Clay when Davis joined the staff at the emergency operations center to prepare for Katrina. After the storm passed, Davis faced, he says, “a disaster like none of us had ever experienced.” Despite his family’s situation, Davis spearheaded immediate efforts to get everyone back home and rebuilding. It wasn’t an easy task, and his team faced unprecedented hurdles.

“I was in a building with a couple of hundred people and nobody had a house. These were the government workers, and nobody had a home to go to,” remembers Davis.
He set out to leap Katrina’s hurdles the way he’s always led the parish—by gathering his team, identifying the problem, coming up with solutions and working relentlessly until the problem is solved.

The first thing, he says, was “trying to stay calm, because, in my mind, everything else follows that,” Davis says. “We’re human beings, so it was devastating for us to stand in someone’s front yard with tears in our eyes and see their home is completely gone. You didn’t see the days we were really upset because we didn’t want that to be seen.”

A flood-damaged family home meant Maria and John Clay were living at the operations center, too. Certainly not the best of circumstances for a newborn and his parents, but “I got a great deal of strength from the quiet moments spent with my wife and the few minutes with John Clay,” Davis poignantly recalls.

“We had the 10 a.m. meeting every day, and everyone knew that. At 10 a.m., you met me at the Louisiana Heart Hospital in Lacombe.” Davis met with elected officials, agency heads, law enforcement and hospital administrators daily. “I’d ask each agency, ‘What’s the problem today? What’s your one problem? Don’t give me 50.’ It could be they needed another vehicle, or they needed a vehicle to go through water, so in the group we’d discover where we had more trucks and where we could move them to.”

Kevin Davis meets with Gov. Jindal at the St. Tammany Emergency Operations Center for Hurricane Gustav. Courtesy St. Tammany Parish Government.

Pressing problems were shelter and communications, areas where the federal government was involved and where Davis’ persistence paid off. “There were a lot of things coming from the bureaucracy that should have been common sense that didn’t happen. So we were making them happen on the ground here.”

“I remember one day we were on the telephone and we connected to FEMA. I said we need to get our residents here, but it’s a complete disaster, the homes are gone. We asked them that day, ‘Why don’t we bring down some camping trailers?’ They said, ‘No, no, no; we build big mobile home parks. That’s what we have always done in a disaster.’”

Davis knew that wasn’t going to work. People needed to be able to work on their own property. “I remember hollering and arguing with them to just give me the trailers and I would get them to the houses. They said, ‘We don’t do that, we’ve never done that and we’re not going to do that.”

The next morning, Davis says, “I got a phone call and they said, ‘We’re going to bring trailers.’ That was very early; no one had ever heard of a FEMA trailer.”

The other big hurdle Davis’ team faced in the first days after Katrina was the lack of communications. While parish government could communicate on its radio system, there wasn’t a connection to the outside world.

“People were trying to figure out, where’s my aunt? Where’s my brother, where are my parents? So I commandeered a radio station,” Davis says, recalling a bit of creative problem solving that made the feds uncomfortable. “It was off the air but still powered. The FCC, from my understanding, had closed it. We went over and opened the door, and our staff turned the system on and started broadcasting. They would broadcast all kinds of general information, what was happening, what was going on.”

Word was passed at the 10 o’clock meetings that people should listen to that station for information. “The team here had a lot of fun with it; they were radio announcers, talking about the issues and what was going on.”

Davis’ leadership abilities really shone through in responding to Katrina and subsequent disasters. But from the day he took office, he was faced with a unique challenge: shepherding St. Tammany through a change in its governmental structure.

He was the first parish president elected under a new home rule charter. St. Tammany had been governed, as many other parishes are governed today, by a police jury. St. Tammany instituted a home rule charter, creating the parish council and the office of parish president.

“The structure was completely different from what everyone was accustomed to,” says Davis, who had been a police juror. “It was always negotiating, compromising and trying to move forward. Many of the jurors got elected as council members. They were more in tune to running the system. We delicately got through that. I thought it was important that they play a role in some of the decision making so that it could be successful.”

Infrastructure Successes

As a police juror, Davis was closely associated with the rails-to-trails project, the Tammany Trace, which grew in size and popularity during his presidential tenure. “People love it,” Davis says. “They feel like it’s theirs, which is something I always thought would happen. Each community developed its own plans for its town center around the Trace,” Davis notes.

Roads and drainage issues were also at the top of the agenda when Davis took office. A comprehensive parish-wide drainage survey has helped in planning for new development; it also paid off in emergency situations, as flooding under a variety of scenarios can be predicted and evacuations ordered in advance of threatening conditions.

On the transportation front, Davis says, “We really pushed hard, because there had been no work of significant value done in the parish for 10 or 15 years. The first four years, we were doing a lot of work with infrastructure issues, without a lot of funding—and arguing with the state over funding of roads that they own.”

Highways 190, 21, 22, 1085 and 1077 are among the state roads that are critical to transportation within the parish that saw major improvements during the past 12 years. “I got tagged the ‘Road Warrior’ because we were constantly trying to maneuver through the state system to get projects done,” Davis says. “The way the state used to operate, and they don’t any longer, was to wait until you had a problem [with a state road], and then they would look at fixing it. That really meant that once you had a problem, it would be another 10 to 20 years before it could be fixed. We kept saying, ‘We need to do it ahead of time. We know where the growth’s going; we know all the issues; let’s do it ahead of time.’ That philosophy has been picked up more than it was 12 years ago.”

The early planning helped to smooth the way for recovery after Katrina and to ensure St. Tammany received rebuilding and stimulus funds promptly. “What we did in 2000 to 2004 was starting to pay off because we now had all this information and actual plans. As soon as we could get funding, we started all the infrastructure projects across the parish.”

Economic Development

Companies like LLOG, Chevron and Global Star—and their employees—became welcome additions to the parish post-Katrina, along with a number of new retail outlets. Davis explains, “Early on, we realized there was very little retail shopping on the northshore. We hired an LSU economics professor to do the study, and if I remember correctly, it found that 70 percent of our residents shopped outside the parish. That’s significant. So we embarked on some large developments that stirred a lot of discussion.”

Davis believes that with the infrastructure in and the retailers still coming on line, people can see what his administration’s line of thinking was 10 years ago. “Most parish residents then were shopping outside the parish, which doesn’t generate revenue, which doesn’t help us to do infrastructure, because you don’t have the revenue,” he says.

“Anytime you’re dealing with change, you get a lot of discussion,” Davis notes. “But I think in the long run, for the first time in our history, more than 56 percent of our residents work in St. Tammany Parish. Trying to move things along proved there was merit in those decisions, because now they can find work on the northshore and not have to commute.”

Energy and retail aren’t the only industries coming into the parish. “It’s technology, engineering, energy—all different fields—that have now relocated to St. Tammany Parish, and we’ve got more coming. That’s a big issue for the next administration, and she [incoming parish president Pat Brister] is going to be aggressively pushing that.”

And Now…

What will he miss most after 12 years as parish president? Davis says, “I’ll miss everybody, the team here, the activity of moving forward, putting the projects together and building a team, trying to get everybody on the same vision. As I think about it, I’ll miss everything.” He adds that before he accepted his current position as the state’s Director of Homeland Security, people asked whether he was retiring. “I’d say, ‘No, no, no; I’m not retiring. I have a 6-year-old son and a wonderful wife, so I’ve got to keep working.’”

Art will come to life at the seventh Geaux Arts Ball, Louisiana’s only living art tableau. The St. Tammany Art Association’s premier event will be held at the Art House in Covington Feb. 4 from 7 p.m. until 11 p.m.

Local students will portray paintings and sculptures in live exhibits that are connected to this year’s theme, There’s Something About Mary. Each piece will have been created by or about someone named Mary. In addition to acting in each tableau, students will prepare backdrops, props and costumes. “When you see what the kids can do, it’s unbelievable; the artistry is phenomenal,” says Laurie Pennison, president of the STAA and Artist-in-Residence at Mandeville Middle School.

Some of the displays are Daughters of Edward Darley Boit by John Singer Sargent, presented by Mandeville Middle School; Portrait of Mrs. Mary Sigall by Salvador Dali, presented by Fontainebleau High School; Lydia Crocheting in the Garden at Marly by Mary Cassatt, presented by Lakeshore High School; The Three Marys at the Empty Tomb, presented by St. Scholastica Academy and St. Paul’s School; and Little Dancer of Fourteen Years by Edgar Degas, presented by Covington High School student Melanie Smith.

STAA's Geaux Arts Ball

Southeastern Louisiana University instructor Jeff Mickey and his students will construct frames made from wood donated by Poole Lumber Company.
The Geaux Arts Ball will feature musical entertainment, including local student violinists Griffin and Riley Wiemelt of Fontainebleau High and Junior High, food by local restaurants, an open bar and a silent auction.

STAA’s goal is to highlight the Geaux Arts Ball as its flagship event, says Cindy Pulling, education coordinator. All proceeds will support artists and art education in the community.

“This event is the very epitome of our mission statement,” says Mary Monk, Art House coordinator. “It involves artists from children to professionals working together to make art accessible to everyone.”

Tickets ($40 in advance, $50 at door) are available at the Art House, 320 N. Columbia St., Covington, or by calling 892-8650. sttammanyartassociation.org.

LPO’s Sound Education

Over 200 students from First Baptist Covington Preschool, Lyon Elementary and Christ Episcopal School attended an Early Explorers Concert by the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra at First Baptist Church in Covington last fall.

“The concert was a wonderful cultural learning experience for our Pre-K students,” says Vickie Stermer, a Pre-K teacher at Lyons Elementary. “We look forward to attending [it] yearly.”

The Early Explorers Concerts and the Young People’s Concerts are two of the interactive experiences included in the orchestra’s Sound Education program. The theme of the Early Explorers Concerts, which are directed toward students in pre-kindergarten through first grade, is “Orchestra ABCs.” The Young People’s Concerts are geared towards students from second through eighth grades. The theme of the concerts is “A Musical Delivery,” offering students an opportunity to learn about the “Elements of Music.” Students can bring their instruments to the concerts to play along with the orchestra. Many northshore schools are planning to attend the Young People’s Concert Jan. 18 at the First Baptist Church in Covington.

Northshore students are also participating in another component of the LPO’s educational outreach in which students learn soprano recorder through Carnegie Hall’s Link Up program and then perform with the LPO at a Young People’s Concert of their choice. Through the Bach-to-School program, schools can invite small ensembles from the LPO for a private performance. Also, middle and high school students are especially encouraged to attend open rehearsals of the orchestra on the southshore Feb. 3, Feb. 9, March 8, March 23 and April 19.

For more information, call (504) 523-6530, ext. 115. For a listing of the LPO’s Covington Series, visit lpomusic.com.

7th Annual President’s Arts Awards

Nine residents of St. Tammany Parish were recognized for their dedication to the development of the arts in the parish at the 7th Annual President’s Arts Awards: Performing Artist of the Year, Frank Levy; Visual Artist of the Year, Ed Whiteman; Culinary Artists of the Year, Chefs David and Torre Solazzo of Ristorante Del Porto; Lifetime Achievement Award, the Dynamic Smooth Family; Literary Artist of the Year, Robin Wells; Musical Artist of the Year, Frank Bua; and Patrons of the Year, Trudy Williamson and Dottie Severson.

This summer, I played Mimi in the musical Rent, a role I’ve been imagining since I first saw Rosario Dawson’s portrayal on the big screen. I can still remember driving home that night with my mom and one of my friends, singing “No day but today!” out of the moon roof. From then on, I was determined. I listened to the soundtrack religiously and jumped at the chance to see the real thing on the Broadway stage. My family and I sat in the sixth row, and when the cast ambled on stage in a carefree fashion as if they didn’t even know the audience was there, I became even more enthralled.

Jenny Bravo in costume for her performance of "Out Tonight." Photo: Charlotte Voelkel.

Last summer, at the closing of a production of Cats at Playmakers Theater, they announced the next summer’s musical as Rent. A cast member at the time came up to me and said, “You have to audition for Mimi.” I crossed my fingers for the entire year, standing by as I heard rumors of the show being canceled because the play might be too controversial.

The show follows a group of young artists in New York City’s East Village, struggling with addictions, falling in love, dealing with death and fighting with disease. At times, it has the members of the audience in deep belly laughs, but a few scenes later, tears are streaming from their eyes. The show focuses on the characters and their relationships with one another, and to perfect the soul of the role is to perfect the play. Playmakers performed the school edition of this musical, which is not much different from the original; though it restricts some of the language, the message and the controversy remain the same.

After they found a director, Larry Gray, who was willing to put on a tough show like Rent, auditions were held in March. I went to Playmakers with my copy of Out Tonight, Mimi’s signature song, and a short dance routine. I auditioned with two other people, one of whom would later earn the part of Mark and would become one of my good friends. There was also a cold reading that I had not been warned about, but thankfully, since I knew the play, I could put the appropriate emotions into the words that I knew were meant to be eulogies at a funeral scene.

Through an e-mail, I learned that I had been called back, and a few grueling days later, I was back in the theatre. Everyone who had been asked back gathered around a piano with our vocal director, Duane Blake, whom I had worked with in Cats and Les Miserables. In groups, they had us sing key numbers like Will I and Seasons of Love. When they placed me in a group with very talented singers, some of whom I had previously worked with, I knew that the director was considering us for lead roles. Two other girls were with me. I knew one had Mimi on her mind as well, so I wasn’t overly confident.

After ushering us all into the lobby, they called a choice few of us back in, and I assumed that we’d be singing through some more material. To my shock, our director told us that we were all cast. He proceeded to read through a list of names with our parts. There was this odd quiet as he said the names he’d scribbled on a yellow legal pad. When he said, “Mimi Marquez, Jenny Bravo,” I felt this rush of surprise and joy and giddiness all wrapped up into one. It had begun.

Rehearsals

Waiting the two months until we got into rehearsal was nearly unbearable. I spent the time researching the part thoroughly, watching the movie, the screening of the last Broadway performance and YouTube videos. I even read the biography of Anthony Rapp, the original Mark, and his journey with Rent from the New York Workshop to the Broadway stage to the silver screen.

Come rehearsal, when we all joined together for the first time, I was ready. Our first few weeks were spent perfecting our vocals. We met for three hours with our pencils and our librettos to make sure that all our notes and harmonies were accurate, so that when the real rehearsals began, there would be no musical discrepancies. Hearing everyone sing his or her respective parts sealed the reality of the show for me. This wasn’t going to be some run-of-the-mill community theatre show. It was going to move people.

The cast of “Rent” gathers before the opening curtain goes up. Photo: Charlotte Voelkel.

When our vocal rehearsals ended, our acting rehearsals began, which meant that we would be on stage blocking. The process of blocking involves walking through scenes and placing characters where they are supposed to be. It took about two weeks to finish blocking the two acts. From there, run-throughs began, which meant all of the lines had to be committed to memory so the actors could move freely without the handicap of a book.

During blocking, we also had to learn choreography. Several times, Gina Bennett of Northshore Academy of Dance came with her assistant to teach us rhythms in La Vie Bohème as well as a tango scene for the song Tango Maureen. She also helped me learn some of my choreography for Out Tonight, which is a dance routine that I performed on a platform and a table in leopard-print high-heeled boots.

All of our costumes came from our own finding. Different from other shows I’d been in, I was given the privilege of bringing my own style to the character and it helped me to connect with her on a more personal level. I went with several friends from the show to Goodwill and thrift stores in Covington as well as Baton Rouge. Everything that I got was a find—a three-dollar pink coat, leopard boots to mimic Mimi’s Broadway roots, a blue slip that I used as a skirt and even some fraying leather boots I found in the back of my closet. Once I got those leopard boots with their spiky, tall heels, I made sure to practice with them during every rehearsal. By the end of the show, they were as easy to walk in as sneakers.

Rehearsals come with plenty of trial and error. As our director liked to say, “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” He encouraged us to experiment with our characters and to expand on our blocking, and if he didn’t like it, he’d correct us. For instance, I took the liberty of pouring craft glitter in my hair every night to shake off the platform in the beginning of Out Tonight. Because there was no correction, I took it as approved.

Live On Stage

There is nothing quite like an opening night. After a month of living with a play, day in and day out, there is only so far that it can go before you add an audience into the mix. Without the applause, the tears and the laughter, and without the feel of engaged eyes on you, there is nothing to feed off of except the energy of the cast.

I spent opening day pouring tea down my throat and resting my voice for the four opening-weekend performances. Once the clock struck 6 p.m., I packed up my car with my makeup bag, my hairspray and my comb. The backstage of Playmakers Theatre is relatively small, but so is the cast. There is one long mirror for hair and makeup as well as two small dressing rooms for the guys and girls.

It took about an hour for me to tease my hair and to apply all of my makeup. I wore this crazy, metallic blue eye shadow that caught the stage lights and long fake eyelashes that made my eyes pop. I had to test the microphone that I used for Out Tonight to make sure the sound was just right for the speakers. Then, I checked to make sure all of my costumes and props, such as the candle for Light My Candle, were there.

After everyone was dressed and it was 10 minutes to show time, the cast gathered in the green room, which is where cast members who aren’t on stage wait, to raise our energy level. Typically, someone gave a motivating speech and then we all did something fun like chant our favorite lines from the play in a rap. At five minutes until show time, we got in our places.

This is when we are really supposed to look into our characters. We leave everything behind us that is our own and assume the persona of the role. We tell each other to break a leg and then we wait in silence, praying and hoping that everything goes right. There’s so much to worry about in that short time. Are the lighting cues going to be right? Is the band going to stay on beat? Am I going to drop a line? What happens if I miss a cue? But, when it comes down to it, all the questions in the world can’t prepare you for when you’re on stage. Something is bound to go wrong.

The house lights go out. The stage light goes out. Slowly, the lights come up on the set. We all rush onto the stage in a frenzy of hoots and hollers, hooking the focus of the audience from the start. When I look out into the crowd, it is a blur of faces in the first few rows lit by the blinding stage lights and darkness past that. As actors, we don’t really look at an audience unless a certain scene, like Seasons of Love, calls for it. Otherwise, we just look at the whole and not individual faces.

An audience has the power to make or break a show. A great audience is one whose members respond to what they are watching, laughing loudly at the appropriate times and being solemn when necessary. A crowd that goes above and beyond with its responses usually renders an exceptional performance. A quieter audience that may appreciate the show just as much requires a bit more work on the actor’s part. The cast has to try and draw appreciation out of them.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of a great performance. The audience knows it, the director knows it and the entire cast knows it. It pulls real emotion from everyone and leaves them invested in the story. For me, this happened a number of times during Rent’s run. There was this moment during the funeral scene in Act 2 where I could feel the loss so profoundly that tears started running down my face. There was sniffling through the crowd and the cast alike. That’s real theatre. That’s when you know you’ve affected someone.

Being in Rent was like being on an emotional roller coaster. I’d come home exhausted, sleeping all day and night. At the same time, I think it’s the show that has meant the most to me. Playing Mimi, I got to feel like a real person on stage with a real struggle and a real vulnerability, rather than just another character. The power of Rent lies in its great heart. That’s what kept the seats filled and the smile on my face every night. I’m grateful to have participated in something so powerful and so important.

Editor’s Note: Jenny interned with us at Inside Northside this summer. Despite her busy schedule—including Rent—she gave a star performance with us, as well!

A ceremonial landmark for production—laying a keel. Photo: Courtesy of Walter F. Jahncke Collection.

They would have been standing on the property of the Jahncke Shipyard, which encompassed much of Madisonville’s current footprint near where the baseball fields and Maritime Museum are today. The shipyard employed some 2,200 workers to construct six wooden ships in fulfillment of a contract with the U.S. Navy, an effort that constitutes the largest industrial effort in the northshore’s history. Though World War I ended before all of the ships were finished, the shipyard changed the face of Madisonville forever.

Fritz Jahncke emigrated from Hamburg, Germany, to New Orleans in 1870 at the age of 19 to work as a mason. Fritz was enterprising, eventually starting his own company and building a reputation. Jahncke Service Incorporated began paving the mud sidewalks of Uptown New Orleans, which in the late 1870s was considered revolutionary.

In another farsighted move, Fritz rented a steam-driven hydraulic suction dredge to gather sand and shells from the Tchefuncte and other area rivers for use in concrete throughout New Orleans. He was the first to use such a dredge in this way; previously, workers dug up the materials with shovels. With this advancement, Fritz dramatically increased the efficiency and speed of construction in New Orleans. He’s credited as the first person to install paved sidewalks and streets in the city.

Joiners preparing a ship frame; SS Abbeville and SS Bayou Teche in background. Photo: Courtesy of Walter F. Jahncke Collection.

Jahncke Service continued to grow, with Fritz expanding into the shipbuilding business to build the boats he needed and to service his fleet. In 1900, he purchased one-half interest in the existing Baham Shipyard in Madisonville on the Tchefuncte, and bought the remaining interest in 1905.

Madisonville was the perfect location for Fritz’s growing business. “Because of the river, it was just the spot,” says Rusty Burns, a local history enthusiast with an interest in the Jahncke Shipyard. The river gave Fritz access to the raw materials he needed, while allowing him easy access to the lake and to New Orleans.

Fritz continued expanding business on both sides of the lake, acquiring yards, warehouses, docks, storage facilities and equipment. He’s largely credited with the development of the New Basin Canal, which he used to transport raw materials from the northshore. In fact, once he started using it, Jahncke was the canal’s largest user. Later, he helped build the Port of New Orleans.

When Fritz died in 1911, he passed his company on to his sons, Ernest Lee, Paul F. and Walter F. Jahncke, and the shipyard soon had another purpose. In 1917, the U.S. Navy awarded Jahncke Service a contract to build six wooden-hull ships. Though Fritz died before the United States entered World War I, there’s some speculation that he and his son, Ernest, might have foreseen the conflict and purchased land and equipment for that purpose.

“Fritz Jahncke fought in the Franco-Prussian war for Prussia, so he was familiar with the political environment of Europe when he emigrated,” says Steve Jahncke, who worked as a salesman at Jahncke Services and is a great-grandson of Fritz. “I know he went back to Germany in 1909, and it’s entirely possible that he picked up on the vibes of what was going on then. He could have been astute enough to put two and two together and to come back and sit down with his sons and say, ‘This is on the horizon.’”

“But he was well into the acquisitions in 1909,” says Rusty. “A lot of the land was already purchased.” The family isn’t sure whether to give credit for the contract to Fritz or Ernest—or both.

Ernest became assistant secretary of the Navy under Herbert Hoover after the war. “He had to have had all these contacts in Washington and the Navy to have done that,” says Davis Jahncke, principal of Jahncke & Burns Architects and a great-grandson of Fritz. Davis says this position may be proof he had the political connections necessary to get the war contract.

As is often the case with family histories, Davis and Steve have varying memories of family lore. Word of mouth has changed the stories slightly over the generations, and many details have died along with the people who knew them. Perhaps the best documentation of the shipyard during the war is the hundreds of photographs made from glass plate negatives collected by the family.

The photographs show construction of five cargo steamships, each of which was 300 feet long and would have weighed around 3,000 tons upon completion. The building effort must have been frenzied. The workers constructed the ships and the ways to launch them simultaneously because time was short. There were no housing facilities in the area, so Jahncke Service also had to construct boarding houses for the workers.

“It was such a major effort to capitalize that whole yard, to do what they did. They had to capitalize this whole town, this whole region,” Rusty says. “The building of sawmills—and think of all the transportation needed, vessels and tugboats and pushboats and on and on and on. And housing. There was a real shortage of housing in Madisonville [at that time]. It had to be a tremendous effort.”

Though Madisonville was already a town at this point, it grew with the shipyard. A bank, houses, ballparks, social pavilions and other businesses sprang up around the shipyard. Jahncke Service also dug the cove where present-day Marina del Ray sits in order to accommodate the launching of the ships. In addition, a massive effort to mill old-growth cypress and oak from the surrounding area changed the complexion of the forests.

The SS Bayou Teche was launched in March 1918, and the SS Balabac on Sept. 29, 1918. The finished boats were floated on large pontoons to ferry them across the shallow areas at the mouth of the Tchefuncte, across Lake Pontchartrain and through the Rigolets to the Mississippi Sound.

The war’s hostilities ended Nov. 11, 1918, less than two years after the United States entered. The Jahncke Shipyard had completed and delivered only two of the six ships in the contract. The exact history of the ships during the war is unclear. On June 28, 1919, the United States and its allies signed the Treaty of Versailles with Germany, formally ending the state of war.

Two other ships were completed, except for minor details, and were launched later, the SS Abbeville on Jan. 19, 1919, and the SS Pontchartrain on April 6, 1919. Photographs show a fifth, unnamed ship under construction at the same time as the others, though it was never completed. Rusty says it was ferried to the east side of the river and burned, and its hull is still visible today when the water is low. The skeletal remains of the massive ship stick out of the water just south of Marina del Ray.

Launching of SS Pontchartrain, April 6, 1919. Photo: Courtesy of Walter F. Jahncke Collection

Operations at the shipyard and in Madisonville didn’t completely end with the war, but the pace slowed significantly as Jahncke Service returned to normal operations.

“Jahncke had a significant volume of work during World War I,” says Sally Reeves, a New Orleans historian currently undertaking a survey of Madisonville’s historic homes and buildings. “When the war ended, many people were out of work. Before that, they were the largest employer in town. It turned out to be sort of a bubble.”

Jahncke Service continued running the shipyard and supplying concrete for construction. Throughout its history, the company supplied concrete or other building materials for many well-known structures in New Orleans, including the Elysian Fields overpass, the Canal Building, Charity Hospital, Jackson Brewery, the Falstaff Brewery and the Sears Roebuck Building. The entire company, including its various entities, eventually dissolved. “By the late 1960s, the family got to fighting among themselves and classic corporate greed took hold,” Steve says. The company was sold and the shipyard in Madisonville came under new ownership. It was finally closed around 1970.

Today, the only remnants of the shipyard are a handful of unassuming concrete foundations in the green space between Main and Pine streets, near Bordeaux Street. The foundations once held winches to hold the ships and steam engines to power the shops.

Rusty and Davis agree that the venture wasn’t very successful. “They really expected the yard to do a lot more than it did. It just didn’t prove to be as productive as they wanted it to be, and I would say the reason for that is because the war ended so quickly,” Rusty says.

“For what it took to build the entire infrastructure, it could have gone on for 20 or more boats,” Davis says. “So it couldn’t have been financially successful.”

But perhaps that wouldn’t have disappointed Fritz Jahncke, had he lived to see the effort. His company’s motto read:

We Shall Build Good Ships Here
At A Profit If We Can
At A Loss if We Must
But Always Good Ships

The Jahncke Shipyard might not have made the company rich, but it had a significant impact on Madisonville. “It had marvelous influence, but on the other hand, it was short-lived,” Sally says. She points out that the presence of the shipyard meant no homes could be built in that area until it was torn down. To this day, there’s a disconnect, she says, between the north and south parts of Madisonville as divided by Highway 22. On the south side are mostly new homes that could not be built until the yard closed, whereas the north side is full of older homes.

Apart from the visible impact of the shipyard, its presence built up the town in a surge of activity that set a foundation for the future. “It was a boom of prosperity that got Madisonville out of the doldrums it had been in since the Civil War,” Sally says.
“It was so productive for the economics of St. Tammany and Madisonville,” says Rusty. “It revolutionized Madisonville.”

Without the shipyard, Madisonville might look very different today.

Maddie’s interest in her family’s genealogy began long ago with her daughter Michelle’s high school assignment to write about her family tree. When Michelle questioned her mother about details of her family, Maddie was stumped. “I realized I didn’t know anything.”

Maddie Norman.

Intermittently, over the next 10 years, Maddie searched libraries and courthouse records to uncover her family’s story. She even traveled to France to decipher her family’s historical documents firsthand. However, although she understands French fairly well, the records she accessed were written hundreds of years ago in a language that is very different from today’s vernacular. At that point, Maddie realized she’d researched enough. “I quit cold turkey. There’s no end to it. It’s like doing a jigsaw puzzle. You’re always looking for the next piece.”

Even though Maddie is no longer researching the family tree, she nevertheless enjoys reading about local history, especially Judge Frederick Ellis’ book, St. Tammany Parish: L’autre Côté du Lac. “I enjoyed it immensely,” Maddie says. While reading Ellis’ many references to the Cousin family, Maddie admits that she “began to see them as people. I never thought about that before. They were real people. They were running the Union blockade across Lake Ponchartrain for the Confederacy and had their schooners confiscated. At the time, New Orleans was held by the Yankees.”

Her mother’s paternal great-grandfather, Terence Cousin, (tay-RAHNS, says Maddie with proper French inflection), was held in house arrest by the Yankees at his home, “Tranquility,” on Bayou Liberty. She adds, “When the soldiers came to question his brother, Anatole, (Maddie’s mother’s maternal great-grandfather) whose home was located on nearby Bayou Paquet, a servant went to the door and told them that the entire family had smallpox, so they left them alone.”

Maddie has firsthand knowledge of the Cousin residence on Bayou Liberty where her mother grew up. “I have happy memories of that place. We spent our summers there. I remember we had watermelon at eleven o’clock every day. After eating the watermelon, we would scrape the pieces down to the rind and try to float them in the ditch.” Laughing, Maddie continues, “They had the biggest grasshoppers there. We used to catch them and put a string on their back legs and attach the string to a matchbox bottom. Then we’d watch the grasshoppers pull the matchbox. We thought that was so much fun.”

Some of Maddie’s family boarding the boats. Above: The Cousin/Tabary family on the front porch of the family house on Neslo Road in Bonfuca, now Slidell.

So how did a genealogical search morph into a birthday cruise down memory lane? Maddie’s daughter Suzanne Reese explains, “I was in town from Memphis (for All Saints’ Day) to help my mom and her sister with the cleaning of the family headstones and tombs. What I got was a huge family history lesson! I had heard about the area called Bonfouca back then (now Slidell)—but to hear about it with the genealogy my mother knew so well was intriguing.”

That same day, Maddie told Suzanne that she’d like to celebrate her 80th birthday by taking a boat ride on the bayou to see the family’s ancestral homes. “I told her that would be awesome, and that she could tell all her children and grandchildren the same stories she told me,” adds Suzanne. Maddie agreed, and they both decided they’d start looking for a boat when the weather got warmer.

In April, the mother-daughter duo visited five area marinas searching for a boat. “With all the boats and marinas nearby, you think it would be a piece of cake to get a boat, but it wasn’t,” Maddie explains. “No one would rent us a boat in Mandeville, Slidell or Lacombe. We didn’t know what to do.”

Suzanne recalls thinking, “Well, if we can’t get the boat, why can’t we at least try to see if we could see the houses? That’s when I picked up my phone and called Charlotte Collins, daughter of the owner of the François Cousin house, an old historic property in Slidell. I tried my best, nervously, to explain who I was and why I was calling. Charlotte was as interested in us as we were in her!”

What a huge blessing Charlotte turned out to be! Through her post-Katrina efforts to save the house, she became curious about the early settlers of the bayou. She even compiled a book of art depicting various sites in the area. (Entitled Rooted in Liberté, she hopes to have it published next year.) “My father, my husband and I could relate to Maddie’s memories of this amazing landscape, so unspoiled since her childhood,” Charlotte explains. “Our family decided we wanted her wish to come true.”

“She was a gem,” exclaims Suzanne. “She was exactly the one I needed to talk with.” Not only did Charlotte’s family have two boats on site, she had also given guided tours before. She was very familiar with the bayous and the properties.

Charlotte invited Maddie and Suzanne to visit her before the party. Maddie says, “Charlotte showed us some old bricks from the Cousin family brick business of long ago. I learned how important the family was to the development of St. Tammany Parish. Charlotte’s father, William, remembered my Uncle Gus, who died in 1969. Uncle Gus worked at a bank in Slidell. They did business together.”

This visit sealed the deal for Maddie’s celebration. With Charlotte providing the boats and the navigation, and Maddie serving as tour guide, her dream became a reality. On July 9, the day after her official birthday, Maddie and her family met Charlotte at the François Cousin house and traveled by boat down Bayou Liberty to “Tranquility,” the home of Maddie’s great-grandfather. “The Terence Cousin house is something I always wanted to see from the bayou,” says Maddie. “It was on my bucket list.” The family stopped to take pictures. Then, they went down the bayou to the bridge at Highway 90 and the Tammany Trace, to what once was Maddie’s grandmother’s land, where Maddie spent many a summer. As the family passed the property, Maddie shared stories of her summers there.

After the cruise, the celebrants returned to the François Cousin house and enjoyed a catered lunch. Coincidentally, the caterer they chose was Charlotte’s nephew, Christopher Case, who grew up in the François Cousin house.

Relaxed and refreshed, the birthday entourage traveled by car to Dubuisson Cemetery, where the idea for the event was born. From there, the family drove to Anatole Cousin’s house on Bayou Paquet, where the servant fooled the Yankee soldiers by telling them the family had smallpox, for more photo ops and a walk to the bayou.

Festivities concluded the next day with Mass at Sacred Heart Church in Lacombe. Another François Cousin house is situated across the street from the church. While Maddie and her guests were not able to go inside the house, they did get to see it from the outside and take photos.

It’s a safe bet that Maddie Norman and her family had sweet dreams that night—dreams of long-ago kin, gallery-wrapped Creole houses and grasshoppers pulling matchboxes on a lazy bayou shore.

Editor’s note:

Maddie’s daughter, Suzanne, first told Inside Northside about her mother’s 80th birthday plans. She shares the following:

“Mom is selfless and unconditionally loving. She’s very smart. In 1972, she earned her master’s degree in fine arts. After our dad died in 1990, we saw our mom do things she never did before. She became very independent and traveled quite a bit, visiting her children and grandchildren out-of-state and even going to Europe.

She’s especially happy when she’s with her 10 grandchildren. She’s taken each one of them, when they reached 10 years of age, on individual weekend trips to a destination of their choice in the United States. More recently, each year at Christmas, she has taken the five or six oldest grandchildren to cities such as Paris and Rome for a week. The next invitation is to London.

I hope by writing about my mom’s birthday celebration, Inside Northside will encourage others to research their genealogy. People live all over the world now, and stories of families get lost. In my mom, we had the perfect person to acquire this information from, and that is what we did for her 80th birthday. Just as she wanted.”