Bob Hamm

Lafayette lost a most remarkable man this week. The amazing,

inimitable Win Hawkins finally took his rest after well over 90

years of making this old earth a little brighter for everyone who

knew him. Like a lot of the old wildcatters, Win was suis

generis, one of a kind. I don't have any hopes of meeting anyone

remotely like him in the remainder of my lifetime.

I've been to the marshes and hunted with Win at the camp that was

a legend when Lafayette was a sleepy little bayou town. And,

after you hunted with Win, any other hunting trip was just plain

vanilla in comparison.

The world will little note nor long remember that I hunted with

Win. But of considerable note is the fact that people like

Admiral Bull Halsey hunted with win...and a secretary of the navy

spent time there in the marshes with Win...a man named Franklin vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Twenty-four years have sped by since Richard Bertrand

retired from politics, so there are only a handful of old-timers

at the state capitol who recall first-hand the uncanny

legislative skill and devastating wit of the long-time state

representative from Lafayette. But the stories are passed down

from session to session--the ones told by this raconteur par

excellence and the ones told about this totally unique man who

was a link between the free-swinging, stump-shouting campaigners

of the Long era and the polished, carefully-packaged television

campaigners of today.

Richard's health is not good now. He has his bad days. But

even on those days, his wit is razor-sharp and his political

judgment impeccable. On his good days, he is still the master

story-teller, with a wealth of material and the timing and style

of a world-class humorist.

The beautiful Spanish-style home where Richard and his wife,

Delores, live attracts a broad cross-section of the residents of

Acadiana. Afficionados of the Richard Bertrand Style of Story

Telling come to listen. People who share his great variety of

interests and hobbies come to compare notes. Those he helped

while in public life come with home-baked pastry, hams,

broccoli, brussel sprouts, cauliflower, turnips, chocolate fudge--

whatever they can make, cook or grow to show that their

gratitude is still strong.

"Old ladies come up to him and kiss him," Delores says.

"He's forgotten what he did for them, but they haven't."

And from the state to the local level, seekers of votes come

to pay their respects, ask advice, and urge him to say a kind

word about them to the many people who still depend on Richard

Bertrand for guidance in matters of a political nature.

Bertrand, who served from 1948 until 1952 and from 1956

until 1960 was an exceptionally able politician, and a highly

effective legislator. Edgar (Sonny) Mouton, who was considered a

master strategist during his tenure in the state senate, says

Bertrand combined a common sense attitude with a strong legal

background. "He had the respect of his colleagues," Mouton says,

"and he had that certain wit about him that could break tension,

and put into perspective what the real battles were all about.

"He was the personification of what you have to be to get

elected--a good politician. And, once elected, he was a good

public servant. He had the ability to sit at a table and iron

out the differences. He could put together the combinations to

get what his constituency needed--whether it was funds for USL or

blacktop roads for people in the country.

"I would say he was as effective as it was possible to be. I

never heard any of his colleagues say anything bad about Richard.

His word was well respected, his wit was well recognized, and his

ability to work out compromises on legislation was well thought

District Judge Rixie Mouton is among those who have never

missed an opportunity to hear Bertrand in a public speaking

situation. "He is the best political speaker I have ever heard,"

Mouton says. "He has a mind like a steel trap, but he makes his

points with satire, drawing on a repertoire of humorous stories

that is apparently endless. Regardless of the nature of his

speech, he leaves his audience laughing and feeling good. Once

they've heard him, they have to like him. He has immense

intellectual capacity, and that, combined with his wit and humor,

makes him one of he best speakers Louisiana has ever produced."

Bertrand's district was the entire parish of Lafayette, and

his constituents packed his law office from dawn to dusk. "I

never turned one away," he says. "I listened to everyone of them,

and I helped them if I could."

"My supporters were mostly the little people...the country

people. Naturally, the campaign contributions weren't very big.

But I didn't rely much on paid advertising. I talked to the

people face-to-face. I never bought a vote, and the most any

campaign ever cost me was $750."

Ironically, many of Bertrand's most notable accomplishments

as a lawmaker seem to have been covered over by the constantly

shifting sands of politics. Few recall his lonely battle for a

bridge across the Vermilion River at New Flanders Road, when he

pushed ahead through a firestorm of criticism and claims by the

Baton Rouge media that the project was a "bridge to nowhere on a

country road, designed only to benefit supporters of the

political regime in power."

And he has yet to hear those critics say, "You were right,

Richard," even though that country road is now Ambassador Caffery

Drive, and that bridge one of the most important in Southwest

Louisiana.

"People said I was crazy for putting my political career on

the line for a project everybody was so critical of," Bertrand

says. "Well, we're all crazy. Just on different subjects. Go

stand on Ambassador Caffery and count the number of cars that

would be trying to cross on Pinhook if we hadn't built that

bridge, and you can see what craziness we would have today on our

major thoroughfares."

Bertrand was also the prime mover in getting Congress Street

extended through the USL farm property from where it formerly

ended at Souvenir Gate. "They wanted to crucify me for that one,

too," he says. "Can you imagine the volume of traffic on

Johnston Street today if Congress didn't provide an alternate

route? People would probably be shooting at each other from

their cars, like they did in California."

Today's efforts to change the name of USL are a source of

quiet amusement to Bertrand. Others got the credit, but it was

his maneuvering in the legislature that, in the final analysis,

resulted in Southwestern becoming a university.

When area lawmakers submitted legislation to give

university status to Southwestern Louisiana Institute,

representatives and senators from all over the state rushed in

with bills to accomplish the same for colleges in their

districts. Then-Governor Jimmy Davis recognized the fact that

SLI had achieved a level worthy of becoming a university, but

decided he would not sign the bill, because it would open the

gate for all the other colleges seeking elevation to that status.

"Would you sign the bill if it was the only one passed?"

Bertrand inquired. The governor said he would, in that unlikely

instance. So Bertrand maneuvered all the bills into the

committee he controlled, sat on them until the session was

winding down, then quietly let the Southwestern bill out and

guided it to passage. Davis kept his word and SLI became USL.

Lafayette municipal employees are probably not aware that

the civil service program which gives them job security can be

credited to Richard Bertrand. He had pledged to the League of

Women Voters that he would secure passage of civil service

legislation if it were submitted by the city administration. The

bill submitted was a very watered-down version of civil service,

hardly worthy of the name. Bertrand took it to the Legislative

Council, had teeth put into it, and spearheaded its passage.

It was Bertrand and the late Rex McCullough who passed

Louisiana's first permanent voter registration law, ending the

political practice of purging the rolls periodically and

disenfranchising many.

To some, the words "politician" and "legislator" sum up

Richard Bertrand. But there are so many other facets to the man

that it is difficult to paint a total picture. The Catahoula

became Louisiana's state dog after Bertrand left the legislature.

But his role in developing the breed and researching its history

recently earned him the official title of "Keeper of the State

Dog." His highly respected line of Catahoulas--descended from

the kennels of his political mentor, Earl Long--is recognized

nationwide.

Bertrand is a wildlife artist of considerable talent. His

paintings and woodcarvings of ducks are remarkable for their

life-like detail.

During one period of his life, he was a deeply involved with

racing pigeons, and, as with the Catahoula, became recognized as

an expert on the history of the sport and the bird.

He brought the same enthusiasm to raising prize orchids, and

to heading the Louisiana Walking Horse Association.

The list of interests is endless. His restless nature and

inquiring mind have involved him in a host of hobbies and

avocations. Yet he has always found time to indulge a favorite

pastime that antedates his political career--long drives in

country, with regular stops at out-of-the-way stores and small

rural homes for rich conversation with old friends.

Bertrand has been described as a "country squire," which is

a fairly accurate description. On sunny days, you'll find him,

with Delores, "out back" of the big house, in the midst of dogs,

greenhead ducks, bantam chickens, fan-tail pidgeons, and other

live and growing things. Sitting by his private fishing pond,

his soul seems very much at peace, but his mind is ever restless

and his interests always expanding. His home is a little island

where there is always time for fascinating conversation, and the

telling of marvelous tales.

### .FI B:SIDEBAR.RB

Lafayette lost two of its treasures this week two doctors two caring and compassionate human beings. Dr. Richard Saloom and Dr. Jerome Ramagosa departed from us. It is a great loss to the community and a loss that I feel very personally. I admired and respected them. They were good friends.

I did not know Dr. Ramagosa as a patient, but I was an admirer and sometimes reporter on his heartwarming work with Hospice of Acadiana. I had the rich experience of going with him to homes where he brought comfort, reassurance, peace and acceptance to the terminally ill and their families. His gentle nature and immense skill eased physical and emotional pain and gave dignity to the last days and moments of those who sought Hospices guidance and help as they prepared for that great journey that all of us must make. He was a man of exceptional brilliance, and he was also a man of deep and abiding compassion. Lafayette is a better place because of the time he spent among us.

Richard Saloom was my doctor, and he was my friend. I spent a lot of time with Richard in his office at the old St. Ann Medical Center on Jefferson St., that he and his brother Clarence established next to their mothers home. Just visiting Richard was therapeutic. His positive, open outlook on life, wide-ranging interests, immense knowledge of local history and deep community concern lifted my spirits before we even talked about my aches and pains. Richard treated the ills of people from all walks of lifefrom the very wealthy to the desperately poorto kids in the detention home who had gone astray. Whoever the patientfrom whatever economic or social strataRichard was impeccably professional and unfailingly kind. Richard was the good family doctor the general practitioner in an age of specialists. He stayed abreast of every modern development in medicine, but his nature reached back to the past. His family values, community values, religious values and human values were old fashioned, honest and very, very deep.

I am grateful that I had the opportunity to know and enjoy the friendship of these two outstanding men, and I feel a sense of regret that generations from this point on will miss that special opportunity. Dr. Saloom and Dr. Ramagosa brought honor to the healing profession. They brought character, integrity and compassion to everything they did.

To the Ramagosa Family and the Saloom Family, I want to offer a small passage from The Land in Between, a never-published book by the late Dr. Ben Kaplan. It describes the passing of Bens father, and it was comforting to me when my own father passed away.

Dr. Kaplan wrote: Suddenly he felt something touch him as though a feather had fallen from above and tipped the scale of his earthly existence. He fell into a deep and final sleep, magnificently certain of everything, for in that instant the Lord blessed him and kept him and made his face to shine upon him and gave him peace. And a human spirit, burdened so long by everymans earthly struggle for truth and for awareness and by the search for answers about ones worth, ones destiny, ones God, and by the demands for some sort of harmony between the past and the future -- that spirit now set free, left behind its earthly restraints and went soaring off across the rooftops of the of the world.

Newspapering in a small town is tough duty. The editor of

a country newspaper walks among his readers daily and answers to

them face to face for the content and viewpoint of his

publication. Unlike Rather, Brokaw and Jennings, when he sits in

the living room of those he serves, he is flesh and blood, not an

electronically-produced image which can be seen and heard, but

never touched. His reader can put the newspaper down, walk over

to the newsroom, and respond personally to what he has read.

Acadiana had its golden era in small town journalism, guided

by a unique breed of editors and/or publishers, who also gathered

news, wrote editorials, shot photos, sold ads, did the layout,

and were usually perfectly competent to sit down at the linotype

and turn hot lead into letters and words and sentences...and

compelling thoughts.

The most unique quality, however, of such people as Matt

Vernon of the Eunice news, Red Mitchell of the Crowley Signal,

John Thistlethwaite of the Opelousas Daily world, Red Wolcott of

the Daily Iberian and Blackie Bienvenu of the Abbeville

Meridional, was their ability to provide through their newspapers

a focus for community spirit and pride, and a forum in which

community viewpoints could be tested, opinions molded and courses

charted.

Most of the bylines of that remarkable group of newspaper

people have disappeared from print, but as it was in the 1940's,

the phrase, "By Bob Angers," is still a staple of Acadiana

journalism.

However, Angers has given more to this area than

journalistic ability and integrity. He has been a relentless

champion of patriotism and conservative ideals. Along with a

mile-long list of professional awards for excellence in the

newspaper field, he holds the George Washington Honor Medal from

the Freedom Foundation at Valley Forge and the American Security

Council Americanism Award.

A native and lifelong resident of Southwest Louisiana,

Angers recieved his journalism degree from LSU. His initial

battle for Americanism was not in the newsroom, but in the

Pacific Theater during World War II, where he was a decorated

soldier, rising to the rank of major.

His journalism career has been amazingly active, but with

it he has blended a separate career developed around his

conviction that Acadiana possesses the necessary resources to

become a force in international trade. While winning over 150

awards for journalistic excellence as city editor of the

Lafayette Progress, Managing Editor of the Daily Iberian and

owner-publisher of the Franklin Banner-Tribune, the Jeanerette

Weekly Journal, the Southwest Capitalist and Acadiana Profile

Magazine, Angers has provided leadership for some of Acadiana's

most notable industrial development endeavors.

He was charter president of The International Relations

Association of Acadiana (TIRAA), charter secretary of the

Louisiana Intracoastal Seaway Association, and driving force

behind the establishment of a French-Spanish Trade Mart in

Lafayette. He helped organize the International Good Neighbor

Council in Louisiana, and chaired its first convention.

When he was presented the TIRRA Outstanding Citizen of

Acadiana Award in 1979, his colleagues said of him, "He has

spread more international goodwill and understanding between

Acadiana and the Spanish-and-French-speaking countries of the

world than any government agency has ever done; because of his

efforts, these countries have a closer tie with Acadiana."

The late Matt Vernon, also a legend in Acadiana journalism,

said when Angers was presented the Louisiana Press Association's

highest award, "Bob has been involved in more projects, programs,

ideas, promotions and publications than anyone since Thomas

Jefferson."

During his career, newspapers have gone from hot lead and

hand type to high speed presses and high tech composition. The

old manual typewriter has given way to the computer keyboard and

terminal. But the Bob Angers byline is still there, a symbol of

unabashed patriotism and dedication to the capitalistic system,

presented with the grace and style of a master journalist.

I AM DEEPLY, DEEPLY HONORED THAT THIS FAMILY THAT I LOVE SO MUCH

HAS ASKED ME TO PAY THIS FINAL TRIBUTE TO THIS GREAT MAN.

ALEXANDER SAS JAWORSKI WAS A GREAT MAN...AND IT WAS A GREAT

BLESSING TO ME THAT I KNEW HIM FOR NEARLY THIRTY YEARS. THE

TIMES THAT I HAVE SPENT IN HIS HOME ARE AMONG MY BRIGHTEST

MEMORIES. I HAVE CHOSEN NOT TO TALK ABOUT THE WONDERFUL TIMES IN

THAT WARM AND LOVING HOME...BECAUSE I DON'T THINK I COULD SHARE

THOSE PRIVATE MEMORIES WITHOUT TEARS...AND I DON'T THINK SAS

WOULD WANT THAT.

THERE IS LITTLE I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT HIS PUBLIC LIFE THAT

YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW. BUT I THINK HE WOULD WANT ME TO RECOUNT

A FEW OF HIS LONG LIST OF HONORS...BECAUSE EACH HONOR WAS A

SYMBOL OF HIS DEDICATION TO FREEDOM AND JUSTICE AND GOD AND

COUNTRY. SAS BELONGED TO US...BUT HE WAS AN HONORARY CITIZEN OF

OVER 60 CITIES. THE PLAQUES, AWARDS AND CITATIONS PRESENTED TO

HIM WOULD COVER THE WALLS OF THIS GREAT CHURCH. IMMIGRANT OF TH

DECADE...UKRAINIAN PROFESSIONAL SOCIETY MAN OF THE YEAR...LION'S

INTERNATIONAL LION OF THE YEAR...THE GOLDEN MEDAL OF AMERICANISM

OF THE DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION...THE MEDALLION OF

THE FREEDOM FOUNDATION AT VALLEY FORGE...AND, OF COURSE, A

NOMINATION FOR THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE.

THESE GREAT HONORS CAME FROM HIS POWERFUL ORATORY AND HIS

DYNAMIC WRITING AS HE ATTEMPTED THROUGH THE STRENGTH OF HIS OWN

CONVICTION AND HIS IMMENSE LOVE TO IN SOME WAY GUIDE THIS NATION

AWAY FROM THE PITFALLS THAT HE RECOGNIZED SO CLEARLY FROM THE

EXPERIENCES OF HIS OWN REMARKABLE LIFE. TO THE MULTITUDES WHOSE

LIVES HE TOUCHED THERE IS A PROBABLY A LASTING PICTURE OF SAS

BOOMING FORTH HIS BELIEFS IN HIS PROUD, AGGRESSIVE STYLE...A MAN

OF IMMENSE VIGOR...WHOSE GREAT VOICE COULD SHAKE THE ROOM AS HE

URGED, PLEADED, CAJOLED, PUSHED, BULLIED...USED WHATEVER TACTIC

HE COULD TO IMPLANT IN OTHERS THE LOVE HE HAD FOR THIS

NATION...AND THE FEARS HE HAD FOR THE COMPLACENCY OF HER PEOPLE

AND THEIR SEEMING UNWILLINGNESS TO WALK THE HARD ROAD OF THEIR

FOREBEARS WHO GAVE THEM THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH. THIS WAS

SAS AS THE WORLD KNEW HIM...AND AS I KNEW HIM FOR MANY YEARS.

BUT LET ME TELL YOU OF THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS GREAT MAN. I

SAW IT ONLY ONCE...ON ONE QUIET NIGHT WHEN WE SAT ALONE IN THE

PRIVACY OF HIS ROOM AND HE LET ME WALK WITH HIM THROUGH HIS

DARKEST MEMORIES. THAT GREAT, BOOMING VOICE WAS SUBDUED, QUIET,

INTENSE AS HE LET ME LOOK--THROUGH HIS EYES--AT THE BRUTAL

CONQUEST OF HIS BELOVED HOMELAND. HE ALLOWED ME TO SEE HIM AS A

FRIGHTENED YOUTH...LISTENING TO THE POUNDING ON THE

DOOR...WATCHING THE QUICK STEPPING SOLDIERS MARCH THROUGH HIS

FAMILY HOME AND DRAG HIS FATHER AWAY. HE LET ME WALK WITH HIM

THROUGH THE PRISONS THE COMMUNIST TROOPS LEFT BEHIND AS THEY FLED

BEFORE THE APPROACHING NAZI ARMY...AND I SAW THROUGH THE EYES OF

HIS TORTURED MEMORY A MURDERED AND DISFIGURED PRIEST...A WOMAN

MUTILATED AND HER UNBORN CHILD RIPPED FROM HER...I SAW THE SEALED

ROOMS WHERE HIS COUNTRYMEN SUFFOCATED...AND THE MASS GRAVES WHERE

HIS FRIENDS WERE TOSSED LIKE RUBBISH.

ON THAT LONG NIGHT, I LISTENED TO A VOICE I HAD NOT HEARD

BEFORE. NOT THE PROUD, RINGING VOICE THAT COULD ECHO THROUGH THE

GREATEST HALL...BUT A SMALL, SAD VOICE...FILLED WITH PAIN

SORROW...A VOICE THAT FALTERED AND BROKE...AS ALEXANDER SAS

JAWORSKY'S HEART WEPT FOR HIS PEOPLE. THAT NIGHT, SAS NOT ONLY

LET ME SEE THROUGH THE EYES OF HIS MEMORY, BUT HE ALSO LET ME

TOUCH HIS SOUL...AND KNOW THE DEPTHS OF HIS SORROW FOR THE LAND

FROM WHICH HE HAD FLED...AND THE PAIN HE FELT WHEN HE COULD NOT

REACH THE PEOPLE OF THIS LAND HE HAD COME TO LOVE WITH HIS

WARNING THAT IT COULD HAPPEN HERE, TOO.

PERHAPS HE WAS ONLY A VOICE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS. I

DON'T THINK SO. I BELIEVE THAT HIS UNYIELDING, RELENTLESS

DEDICATION TO HIS MISSION WAS NOT IN VAIN. I THINK HIS CRY FOR

VIGILANCE AND CONCERN...FOR REALIZATION OF OUR BLESSINGS AS A

NATION AND DEDICATION TO THEIR PROTECTION...WAS HEARD BY MANY.

AND I BELIEVE HIS WORDS INFLUENCED LEADERS OF YESTERDAY, TODAY

AND TOMORROW.

BUT MORE THAN THIS...I BELIEVE THAT ALEXANDER SAS JAWORSKY

KEPT FAITH WITH THE OPRRESSED, BRUTALIZED, DOWNTRODDEN PEOPLE OF

THE LAND HE LOVED. I BELIEVE THAT THROUGH HIM, THEY WERE GIVEN A

VOICE...AND THEY SPOKE TO US. AND IF WE LISTENED TO ALEXANDER

SAS JAWORSKY, WE HEARD THEM.

YOU COULDN'T HEAR THE PAIN AND SORROW IN HIS VOICE WHEN HE

SPOKE IN LARGE GATHERINGS. I HEARD IT ONLY THAT NIGHT...AND

PERHAPS TO A LESSER DEGREE WHEN HE WOULD LIFT HIS VOICE, CLEAR

AND BEAUTIFUL AS A MOUNTAIN STREAM, IN THE SONGS OF HIS NATIVE

UKRAINE.

BUT BECAUSE I HEARD IT...I UNDERSTOOD HIS MISSION. I KNEW

FOR WHOM HE SPOKE. FOR THOSE LONG DEAD AT THE HANDS OF

OPPRESSORS...FOR THOSE YET UNBORN...THAT THEY MIGHT NEVER KNOW

THE BRUTALITY OF THE OPRESSOR'S HAND.

THIS WAS HIS MISSION...AND HE PURSUED IT WITH HIS BRILLIANT

MIND, HIS GREAT HEART, AND HIS COURAGEOUS SOUL.

HE KEPT THE FAITH. WHATEVER THE OBSTACLES PLACED BEFORE

HIM...HE KEPT THE FAITH.

IN THIS, I BELIEVE, SAS ACHIEVED GREATNESS. HE PURSUED HIS

MISSION. HE KEPT THE FAITH.

HIS WORDS OFTEN POUNDED AGAINST A WORLD GROWN TO

SOPHISTICATED...TO HIP...FOR OLD FASHIONED PATRIOTISM. BUT HE

SPOKE ON. AND OF THE THOUSANDS WHO HEARD OR READ HIS WORDS, MANY

WERE TOUCHED...AND THROUGH THEM, HIS IDEALS AND PRINCIPLES WILL

BE PASSED ON TO GENERATIONS TO COME.

THE WORDS OF ALEXANDER SAS JAWORSKY HELPED PROVIDE THE FUEL

FOR THE TORCH OF FREEDOM. WITHOUT HIS BRAND OF COURAGE AND

PERSEVERANCE--WITHOUT SUCH WILLINGNESS TO SPEAK OUT FOR THE OLD

IDEALS AND THE OLD TRUTHS--THAT TORCH, DEVOID OF NOURISHMENT IN A

WORLD GROWN CALLOUS AND MATERIALISTIC--COULD FLICKER AND DIE.

WE ARE GRATEFUL TO YOU SAS. YOUR LIFE HAD MEANING AND

PURPOSE. IT WAS A REMINDER TO ALL OF US THAT FREEDOM IS A

PRECIOUS GIFT...AND FOR THIS WE THANK YOU.

THERE ARE MANY ACCOUNTS OF PEOPLE WHO, FOR AN INSTANT, HAVE

CROSSED THAT THIN LINE BETWEEN THE LAND OF THE LIVING AND THE

LAND OF THE DEAD...AND FOR REASONS WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND, HAVE

BEEN CALLED BACK. VIRTUALLY EVERYONE OF THEM HAS TOLD OF WALKING

THROUGH A TUNNEL TOWARD A WARM, BRILLIANT LIGHT, AND EXPERIENCING

AN OVERPOWERING JOY AS THEY CAME CLOSER TO THAT LIGHT. I CAN

ENVISION SAS WALKING TOWARD THAT LIGHT...FREE NOW OF THE EARTHLY

BODY WHICH AGE AND ILLNESS HAD MADE WEAK AND FRAIL. STRIDING

WITH HIS OLD, STRONG,OPTIMISTIC GAIT TOWARD THAT LIGHT....TOWARD

THE WARMTH AND BRILLIANCE OF GOD'S SMILE AND THE WAITING ARMS OF

HIS BELOVED MARTHA. AND HIS VOICE IS STRONG AGAIN. HIS EYES ARE

BRIGHT AGAIN...AND HIS SOUL, NOW FREE, CAN GO WINGING OFF IN SEARCH

OF ANOTHER GREAT ADVENTURE.

AND I BELIEVE THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF SOULS THERE WHO WILL

SPEAK TO HIM IN HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE... SPEAK TO HIM WITH LOVE, AS

THEY WELCOME THIS MAN WHO HAS SPOKEN FOR THEM SO COURAGEOUSLY.

YOU KEPT THE FAITH SAS...WITH GOD AND COUNTRY AND FAMILY.

YOU FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT...FOR FREEDOM AND LIBERTY AND JUSTICE.

YOU KEPT THE FAITH.

YOU EARNED OUR LOVE.

YOU EARNED YOUR REST.

George F. Dupuis, Sr. died Wednesday. George was one of the best

friends I've ever had. This isn't easy for me to do, but I need

to do it...because I'd like some of you who knew only the old

political warrior to remember George the way I'll always remember

This is sort of personal. Possibly the darkest time in my life

happened one night in 1975, when my career exploded in my face

and I made a pretty shameful departure from television. The next

day, I was alone--more alone than I'd ever been before or ever

been since. My whole world was painful and cold and I was sick

and empty inside. George called. He didn't have any sympathetic

words, or any admonitions to "cheer up, things could be worse" or

any of the usual lame efforts to brighten a miserable life. He

just said, in his big gruff voice, "come home, come eat. I been

missing you." And I went, and Virginia cooked a ham and a turkey

and a roast and some seafood and a table full of other food, and

I got through the day. Next day, Vince Riehl got involved, and

George M. Roy and Tommy Pears and B.I. Moody--and I rejoined the

living. I'll always owe all of them. But the most important

call I guess I ever got in my life was George Dupuis saying,

"Come home. Come eat. I been missing you."

Let me tell you some things you probably don't know about

George. I say you probably don't know these things about George

because George didn't talk about himself. He lead one of the

most remarkable lives of anyone I've ever known, but he really

saw nothing remarkable about it, so he never talked about it.

I tried. I tried to get him on tape. I tried to get him drunk o73 and get him on tape. But, whether you recognized it or not,

there was a humility there that transcended any I've ever known.

Did you know George was a military hero? I have pictures of him

taken during World War II. He was movie star handsome, then.

And his experiences would have made a pretty good movie.

George was in the thick of combat, and his plane was shot out

from under him twice. I guess that was the beginning of the

legend about his nine lives. He was awarded two purple hearts,

the Air Medal with a cluster and the Distinguished Flying

Cross...and was one of six young American heroes granted a pri

vate audience with the pope. He never talked about it. I found

out about it when I was looking through an old scapbook for

something else.

Not everyone loved George...mainly because he was a political

animal. He knew only one way to play the game of politics. He

played hard ball, and his only rule was that the end justified

the means. His teachers were Senator Dudley LeBlanc, Judge

Leander Perez, Governor Jimmy Davis, and the old Winnfield Wizard

himself, Earl Long. George was part of the history that these men

made. Sonny Mouton has commented that when Jimmy Davis was gover

nor, George and Chris Faser ran the state. That's an exaggera

tion, but George was a power, and he brought good things home to

Lafayette. One of them was Ambassador Caffery Parkway. He was

crucified for that. But he stayed the course. Without George,

we probably wouldn't have it, and Lafayette would be strangling

in its own traffic.

George ramrodded the greatest medicine show on earth, Cuzain

Dudley LeBlanc's Hadacol Caravan...He was Dudley's trouble shoot o73

er on that great adventure, and he became fast friends with

people like Jack Dempsey, Casear Romero, Rudy Valley, Minnie

Pearl, and Hank Williams. For over a quarter of a century, I

begged him to tell me the tales of Judge Perez, the days on the

road with Cuzain Dud, the days when he was key aide to Jimmy

Davis, and the days when he and Virginia took care of Hank Wil

liams when that great, tragic genius was incapable of caring for

himself. He never did. He waived the bragging rights to stories

most of us would have tracked people down to tell, and sat on 'em

to make 'em listen.

I was there when George was president of our school board, guid

ing it through its toughest times, using all the political savvy

he had learned from his remarkable teachers. I remember when

Governor Davis appointed him to the board, and the other members

were so incensed that when he came to his first session, Virginia

at his side as always, looking absolutely lovely...they didn't

provide him with a seat. That board that didn't want him eventu

ally elected him president...and he went on to become president

of the state school board association. Jimmy Prescott was

executive secretary of the Louisiana School Board Association for

many years, and Jimmy will tell you that George Dupuis was the

most effective president that statewide organization has ever

I was with George when John McKeithen sent a plane to bring him

to Baton Rouge for the signing of a bill which not only gave

teachers a pay raise...but, wonder of wonders, included a mecha

nism for funding the raise. The teachers knew that it was o73 George's remarkable knowledge of the ins and outs of Baton Rouge

politics that got them that much deserved and long overdue in

crease in their meager earnings.

I've been fortunate in that I've often been able to pay tribute

to people while they could still hear the kind words. I wrote a

feature article about George a few years ago for Senior Citizens

News, and I'm glad I did that. Many years ago, I did a televi

sion commentary in praise of George Dupuis. You might remember

that devastating tornado that his Crowley in the seventies.

Within hours, without being asked, George had almost every piece

of rolling stock he owned headed west on I-10 to help Crowley dig

out of the disaster.

George Dupuis' deportment was disturbing to some, and his poli

tics too strong for others. But there was a kind and generous

side to this man. He helped more people than anyone will ever

know--in tangible, measurable ways. And he always got the hell

away from there before any of us could thank him...because that

embarrassed him.

George and I sat together many nights down in the Atchafalaya

Basin, listening to the night sounds of the swamp...and sometimes

in that quiet refuge, he opened up and let me see into his soul.

There were good things there, like the great love for Virginia

and the children, that he probably was never quite able to ex

press to them. And other simple, decent things that he didn't

have the words for. That was the other George Dupuis. I am

deeply grateful that I knew them both.

George had at least nine lives. The Germans shot him once over o73

Africa and once over Italy, and a few years ago he went to the

bottom of the Mississippi River trapped in a helicopter by a

malfunctioning seat belt. He only had one lung, and it wasn't a

very good one. Various parts of his body wore out a long time

ago, but his indomitable spirit kept on going. I use to say

after each near brush with death, and he had a lot of them, that

the Lord wasn't ready for him, and the devil didn't figure he

could cope with him. Wednesday, the Lord decided he wanted him.

Here's the song, George. You knew I'd play it for you.

I did many foolish things in my younger days, but none more

foolhardy than when, in Abbeville in the early sixties, I engaged

Dr. Alexander Sas Jaworsky in debate. I was schooled in forensic

technique, well-grounded in effective argument, trained in logic

and persuasion...and I was given the intellectual drubbing of my

life. With his inch-thick accent and window-rattling volume,

Dr. Sas cleaned my plow.

I will never forget that awesome confrontation in the warm,

homey kitchen of his big house in Abbeville. The wounds to my

ego went away, but the respect I developed for this remarkable

man held fast, and grew steadily. It continues to grow today.

Dr. Sas is a native of the Ukraine. He came to America with

a unique knowledge. He knew first-hand the horrors of Nazi

domination...and of domination by the Soviet Communist State. He

survived both during World War II, as his native country was

devastated by the forces of Stalin and Hitler in turn.

So when he arrived in America with his beautiful young

bride, Natalie--and little else--he fell desperately in love with

this nation and all it stands for. His skills as a veterinarian

raised him from the status of penniless immigrant to respected

professional man, but did not satisfy his most burning ambition--

to be able to carry to Americans his message of the evils of

Communism and of the beauty and wonder of the freedom most of us

take for granted.

In 1957, just eight years after his arrival in this country,

unusual circumstances opened the door to this opportunity. The

young immigrant from the Ukraine, residing in Louisiana's deep

bayou country, was picked as a contestant on the CBS television

quiz show, "The $64,000 Question." His topic?

American history. The nation marveled at this man so new to

America...who had such an unbelievable knowledge of the country's

heritage.

Sas won the $64,000 Question twice. Then he won $8,000 on

the "$100,000 Challenge," for a total of $136,000. The sudden

wealth was a heady thing for the young couple who had come to

this country penniless. But beyond that, the national

recognition brought opportunities to carry his searing patriotism

to the public. In one year, he received over 1600 invitations to

speak to groups throughout the nation.

Through speeches, newspaper columns and books, Dr. Sas has

spent a lifetime telling Americans about America. As a result of

this one-man crusade, he has been made an honorary citizen of

over 60 cities, given over 70 plaques, recognitions and citations

by civic and religious organizations, been named "Immigrant of

the Decade," Ukrainian Professional Society "Man of the Year,"

Lions International "Lion of the Year," and presented with the

coveted Golden Medal of Americanism by the Daughters of the

American Revolution.

He has received great honors, including the Medallion of the

Freedom Foundation at Valley Forge, and a nomination for the

Nobel Peace Prize, through the efforts of the American Legion,

VFW and Daughters of the American Revolution. He has been

blessed with success in his profession and love and respect from

his fellow citizens. But through all the joy of public life and

family life, one thing haunted Sas. The quiz shows of the late

1950's were rocked by scandal. Evidence was uncovered that many

of them had been rigged. Even the "$64,000 Question" program was

tainted, and Sas felt that, because on some shows, the

contestants had been given the answers beforehand, people might

believe that his remarkable knowledge of the history of this

nation had been faked also.

This troubled him for many years. He felt that the

chicanery on some of the quiz shows had cast a shadow over his

astounding performance. He sought continually for some way to

prove that there was no trickery involved.

The opportunity finaly came in 1985. That year, the Sas

Jaworsky Papers, a massive collection of patriotic writings,

were donated to the USL archives. The University asked how it

might honor Sas. A testimonial banquet, perhaps?

His answer was a booming "no." He wanted no testimonials.

What he asked was that USL assemble the toughest team of

professors it could, and subject him to the most exhaustive quiz

on American History possible. At last, in a formal, academic

setting, he would prove that the knowledge of his beloved

country, which he had displayed on national television almost 30

years before, was real.

The professors hammered away for hours with carefully

selected questions. Sas answered easily, flawlessly, and happily.

And at the end, he received a document as precious to him as any

award of appreciation ever presented in his remarkable career...a

simple statement by the team of experts that his knowledge of

American history was everything it appeared to be when he stood

in the "isolation booth" in Studio 52 at CBS.

We never doubted it, Sas. But it was good to see you go at

it again, with the old spark, and the old zest for intellectual

combat.

Dr. Alexander Sas Jaworsky's knowledge of American history

is remarkable. But more remarkable is the fact that this man who

came here a penniless immigrant, has become a factor in the

making of American history...through his ceaseless efforts to

preserve those things for which America stands. ###

Larry Lunsford's adult life has been spent in capturing in

small pieces, and preserving in various media, the poignancy,

humor, drama and beauty of life. He is best known as a

broadcaster--a television and radio journalist. But to his

colleagues in the world of broadcasting, he is recognized as more

than a reporter.

He possesses the ability to conceive and produce news

stories and features of extraordinary dimensions--exciting

creations blending photographic excellence, music, natural sound

and thoughtful, professional narration. His television features

are like beautiful paintings in which the subject matter is often

secondary to the skill with which it is portrayed.

His best features, those which have won awards and been

shown on national networks, have been totally his own. He

conceived them, shot and edited the film, blended the sound,

wrote them and narrated them. In recent years, this ability to

package the beauty and drama of life for the enjoyment of others

has been carried over to the world of brush and palette. It is a

rekindled talent which was almost lost.

A gnawing interest in the fine arts caused Larry to purchase

paints and brushes in the summer of his eighteenth year, and to

follow that by enrolling in USL as an art student. But by his

own harsh judgment, he did not have the talent to produce what

his soul demanded. So he left school with the belief that he had

left his desire to paint behind, and joined the air force.

Military experience in photography and broadcasting led him into

electronic journalism, and the television screen became his

canvas.

Many years later, after successfully pursuing a journalism

career in Lafayette and New Orleans, he returned to USL to

complete a degree in mass communications, and decided to enroll

in a few art courses, "to round out his electives."

Two instructors had a profound effect on him. Fred Daspit,

art historian, rekindled his appreciation for the work of

history's masters, and Elmore Morgan proved to him that he could

put pencil to paper and create the image he sought. "I surprised

myself," Lunsford says. "Fred Daspit had given me back the

desire, and Elmore Morgan gave me confidence."

A student of unusual ability was enrolled in the same courses, but

in different sections, so Larry did not meet James L. Kendrick,

III of New Orleans while they were at the university. However,

Kendrick's talent was legendary even as a student--"awesome,"

Larry calls it--and they did meet a few years later, when

Kendrick was the subject of a television feature story produced

by Larry. The artist who had so impressed the journalist was

greatly impressed in turn by the skill with which the feature was

produced. Kendrick and Lunsford became close friends, and the

former has greatly influenced the latter.

These three, Daspit, Morgan and Kendrick, are basically

responsible for Larry Lunsford the newsman becoming an artist of

growing renown. He follows the representational style of

Kendrick, seeking realistic portrayals which seem to exist beyond

the canvas. "I try to create a scene into which the viewer can

enter, or at least feel that it is continuing outside the frame.

I want the viewer to speculate on what is happening beyond the

lake or around the bend...or over the hill.

"I suppose I would be classified as a romantic. Working in

the medium of electronic journalism, I always tried to produce

pieces that were "pretty"...that were--besides their journalistic

content--aesthetically appealing. I wanted them to be pleasing

to the eye while they conveyed a story line."

In the begining, Larry painted romantic European scenes, but

later began to realize the beauty and romance of the Acadian Country.

"I had lived here most of my life without really seeing the

romance and beauty in the old homes, the barns, the great oak

trees, the sleepy bayous. I see it now, and I see as much

romance as you would find in the Bavarian Alps or medieval

English castles. I realize now that I live in a painter's

paradise, right here in Acadiana."

Larry Lunsford is an artist whose career should have begun

sooner. Because his time at the easel has been relatively brief,

he is still a little in awe of what can be done with color,

light, shadow, values and angles, and of the illusion of three

dimensions arising from a flat piece of canvas. Most

refreshingly, he is still quietly amazed that his own hand can

capture those scenes which capture his romantic spirit.

--Bob Hamm

Richard asked that I do this...and it is an honor that I

cherish so very deeply. So very deeply. But you all knew him and

loved him...and you must know how inadequate I feel as I try to

find the words that in some small measure will be worthy of him.

I have only ordinary words...and Richard was an extraordinary

I knew him first as a politician...brilliant,

able....possessed of a remarkable intellect beyond most men. But

it was an intellect not easily recognized, because before he

touched the minds of people, he touched their hearts. And when

that happened, we were drawn into the warmth of his nature and

the charm of his personality and the comfort of being with him.

The joy of his company. And then, in those times of the best of

all conversation and the most wonderful of all stories we would

glimpse that superior intellect...and I would feel quietly proud

that I knew this man...and that I could sit with him...and share

with him and call him my friend.

Richard loved politics and he brought a nobility to

politics. Because besides the brilliance and skill and

charm...he possessed a genuine love for the people he served. I

can recall no time during his remarkable tenure in the state

legislature that his law office was not filled with people. They

were not clients who could benefit him financially. The were not

wealthy backers who could aid him politically. They were the

people. The farmers and clerks and mechanics and laborers.

White...black...people who spoke little or no English. Each was

there because in some way his or her life had gone awry...and

they did not have influence or financial resources or access to

people in high places. But they had Richard. And he was the

government. He was their government. Government they could touch

and talk to. And because Richard was good...these people saw

government as good. And because Richard reached out his hand to

them, they saw government as responsive. And because Richard

would go to the wall for the least of them, they knew government

as warm and personal and caring.

Perhaps Richard's politics...a politics of listening and

caring and trying to better the lives of the people he

served...was politics at its finest hour.

In his latter years...long after the wheel of political

fortune had turned, as it always does, men would come to him

on the street and shake his hand reverently, and women would come

and hug him shyly...and their words were inevitably, "You don't

remember me, but I remember what you did for me."

The love and gratitude of hundreds of people was Richard's

reward. There are no buildings named for him at USL, even though

his immense ability was key to securing the funds for

constructing the buildings that bore the names of others. His

vision and foresight and his willingness to endure the bitterest

of political attacks gave us that bridge at Flanders Road. It's

named Ambassador Caffery...not Richard Bertrand...but I use to

ride the back roads on the other side of the road with Richard

years before there were beautiful homes in lovely subdivisions.

Beyond where the bridge was built were people of limited means,

elderly people, small farmers...and to them the bridge was a

rich blessing long before it was a vital facility for all of us.

And those could people knew that it was Richard's bridge...no

matter who they named it for. And they knew the long,

courageous fight he endured to get it for them.

And so they are among those who have always come to Richard

and Delores' home with their bags and baskets of tomatoes or

cucumbers or squash when the gardens were good or when they've

been able to bake something special...whenever some little

something could be brought that said thank you, Richard. We have

not forgotten.

Love and respect were his rewards. He did not

get big newspaper headlines for his truly remarkable

accomplishments in the legislature. Love and respect were his

rewards...and they came from the little people...the quiet

people...the people unable to make their voices heard in the

seats of power, but who could sit with Richard and know that he

listened and he cared and he would speak for them.

In small cottages and little farm houses in the

country...tears are falling today for Richard Bertrand. The

tears of these people are a greater tribute than any words I can

say here.

Someone named Cheyney once wrote that "the happiest heart

that ever beat was in some quiet breast that found the common

daylight sweet, and left to heaven the rest." Richard knew the

joy of combat in the halls of the legislature, and he knew the

exhilaration of holding power and influence. But he had that

marvelous balance that permitted him to step back from some great

accomplishment for this community he loved, and take the time to

smell the flowers.

His love for the nature's simple creatures and nature's

majestic beauty made Richard's home a place of peace and serenity

where one could find refuge from the pressures of today's world.

As have so many of you, I hold in my heart beautiful memories of

Richard and his racing pigeons, his walking horses, his

catahoulas, his shetland ponies, his prize orchids...his small

world of warmth and beauty where we all felt at home and at

peace.

I have talked about his love for people, his love for

politics and his love for nature, because these things live on in

our hearts and give him a measure of immortality. The steel and

bricks and mortar that went into the many tangible

accomplishments of his legislative career will stand as quiet

monuments and he will live on in the good that has come from

I would speak also of his superb, inimitable story telling

ability. In the simple, every day occurrences of life, Richard's

love for life permitted him to see the poignance, the drama, the

beauty and the rich humor that most of us rush past. And he

brightened all our lives with his remarkable ability to paint

pictures in our minds of what we had not taken the time to see.

And he gave us laughter. In his quick and wonderful wit and his

gift for story telling, there is also immortality. I have told

his stories to my son, and he has told them to my grandchild, and

I know that hundreds of others have done the same. And as

Richard's stories travel through the generations, he will live on

in the laughter and the warm feelings that they bring.

His love for people who were hurting, for creatures who were

helpless...his brilliance...his wit...his uncanny legislative

skill...his marvelous ability to bring us laughter...in these

things Richard lives on. He lives on in our love and our

gratitude.

As his health declined, Richard leaned physically on Delores

and looked to her for strength and guidance. But in his most

robust and healthiest days, it was the same. In his career

Richard soard to greater heights than this community has ever

realized...and this kind, gentle, lovely woman was always the

wind beneath his wings.

His life was good and full and rich and productive and our

lives are better because of him. And his life was better because

of her. Their lives were one...and so Delores, this is your

tribute, too.

It is fitting that we weep. We weep for ourselves. For our

loss. But Richard has simply shed an earthly body that no longer

served him well and gone on a little ahead of us. I always felt

a sense of anticipation and joy on the way to Richard's house.

And there is anticipation and joy in knowing that one day we will

sit with him again...and know again the warmth, the laughter and

the love.

When people enter the Louisiana political arena, they often lose a part of themselves. Frequently it is their dignity, often it is their honesty, sometimes their human decency. In the offices she has held thus far, Kathleen Babineaux Blanco has served us with incredible ability, but has never lost that innate dignity, honesty and human decency that is so rare in todays politics. Her effectiveness is enhanced by this, and by an ability to reach out to others across party lines - to work harmoniously with people of different races, creeds and political philosophies. Her remarkable accomplishments in government have unfailingly resulted in better lives, better communities and a better state. In the years ahead, youll feel good about having voted for Kathleen Babineaux Blanco for Lieutenant Governor. And in that office, shell make us all feel good about Louisiana. For ability, integrity, and a genuine dedication to serving others, elect Kathleen Babineaux Blanco lieutenant governor. KATHLEEN BLANCO POLITICAL 60 SECONDS ABILITY

Let me give you just a few of the reasons that Im voting for Kathleen Babineaux Blanco for lieutenant governor. At the top, of course, is ability. Kathleen has served us with incredible effectiveness as a legislator, public service commissioner and first woman to chair the public service commission. She is very, very good at the job of government. Kathleen accomplishes things that make our lives better -- not through political wheeling and dealing, but through honesty, integrity and hard work. She reaches out across party lines and artificial barriers of race, creed and political philosophy to bring people together for the good of Louisiana. I want the rest of the country to look beyond our shabby political scandals and see the beauty of Louisiana as you and I see it. I sincerely believe that, as lieutenant governor, Kathleen Babineaux Blanco can make that happen. Vote for Kathleen Babineaux Blanco for lieutenant governor, and youll feel good about your vote for years to come.

Around the United States, Dudley J. LeBlanc is still remembered as the ringmaster of the greatest medicine show in the history of the world. Couzin Dud, as he liked for people to call him, manufactured, produced and marketed HADACOL, a tonic that became the worlds all time best-selling patent medicine. A marketing genius, he put together his medicine show -- called The HADACOL Caravan, -- and traveled across the country -- his performers and personal entourage journeying by train, with his fleet of 100 eighteen-wheelers rolling along in tandem. The luminaries in the great Dudley LeBlanc roadshow included the top stars of the day. Bob Hope, George Burns and Gracie Allen, Hank Williams, Cesar Romero, Minnie Pearl, Connie Boswell, Mickey Rooney, Jack Dempsey and Rudy Vallee were just a few of the Hollywood stars that twinkled on his traveling stage. Money would not admit you to the performances. The ticket was a HADACOL box top. The show and the powerful advertising campaign sold a lot of HADACOL-- 3 million bottles per month during the HADACOL heyday. It was a good tonic. Lafayette Pharmacist Phil Comeaux says it was the forerunner of the modern stress formulas, such as Stresstabs, which is essentially a high B-Complex formula. It was a source of vitamins for some people who were taking them for the first time in their lives, Comeaux says. It did a lot for them. The advertising, mostly testimonials from users, would have had one believe that it could make the lame walk and the blind see. It was not that potent, but it was a tonic with therapeutic value, marketed by a genius. By 1950 HADACOL had become the second largest advertiser in the nation behind Coca Cola, and sales had expanded from Southwest Louisiana to 22 states across the nation. The company employed nearly 1000 people, with 370 working around the clock to keep up with the massive demand. The inventor and promoter of HADACOL was the Dudley LeBlanc the nation knew, and that radio, television and newspaper personalities joked about. (That was fine with Dudley, as long as they got his name right.) Here in South Louisiana, this man from humble Vermilion Parish beginnings was looked on quite differently. As proficient at politics as he was at promoting HADACOL , he served the public off and on in elective office from 1922 until his death in 1971. His rich career spanned those of Governors Huey and Earl Long, Sam Jones, Bob Kennon and Jimmie Davis. He was a state senator at the time of his death, in the administration of Gov. John McKeithen. McKeithen acknowledges that, but carrying the Acadian parishes for him, Dudley assured his election as governor. Right up until his death, Dudley was still known in the senate as a fighter who knew the game of politics as well as anyone who ever lived. It was a poignant need of his fellow Cajuns that propelled Couzin Dud into the public arena. When he began his rise to fame, thousands of South Louisiana people of Acadian origin spoke no English. In effect, they were left out of the political process until Dudley became their spokesman and their contact with government. As time passed, Dudley became the champion, not only of the French-speaking minority of Southwest Louisiana, but also of the aged and poor statewide. He believed, and there is probably some truth to it, that his early efforts to provide financial benefits to the elderly pre-dated and influenced Franklin Roosevelts New Deal program. As the father of Louisianas old age pension, Dudleys base of support began with old people...and through the many decades to come, those reaching their golden years continued to look upon him as their spokesman and hero. He also was a prime promoter of the Acadian culture, writing three books and making several world promotional tours. Dudley J. Leblanc was one of the most colorful personalities in Louisiana history. He was an eager warrior, brilliant strategist, master showman and a genuinely caring public servant. First and foremost, he was a Cajun, and his pride in his heritage inspired others, and gave them a sense of self-worth they had not known before they knew Cousin Dud.

THE POPE OF BUTTE LA ROSE

Probably the most revered of the early settlers in Butte La Rose was the religious leader, Pope Paul. A trapper and fisherman whose full name was Paul Doremus Pope, Jr., he settled near the site of the present Greater Butte La Rose International Airport, where he put up a crude sign identifying his homesite, which read, "Paul D. Pope." Word spread quickly through the community. "Come see, cher. Paul, de Pope, living in Butte La Rose, him." Within a few days, Paul D. Pope found that fellow residents were conducting mass in his kitchen and playing bingo in his front yard. Pope, an Episcopalian, was unable to convince his neighbors that he was not the spiritual leader of the Catholic Church, and finally gave himself up to the task of providing religious leadership for the community. The Pope of Butte La Rose did not speak or read French and found the baptismal certificates in that language totally confusing. When he was told by the first new parents in Butte La Rose to enter the name "Alphonse" on the certificate, he assumed that this was a standard practice of the Catholic Church. Consequently, the most significant effect of Paul, de Pope's reign was that the first three generations of children born in Butte La Rose--male and female--were christened "Alphonse." .fl blpgone

John Michael (Mike) Lacy of Lafayette, Houston, and various parts of the world where energy is sought, was honored recently for his role in the rescue of forgotten foreign nationals in Albania. U.S. Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchinson, R-Texas, paid tribute to Lacy for his ingenuity and persistence in bringing the plight of more than 300 refugees to the attention of the U.S. State Department and military officials. The world in general was unaware that the Americans and other foreign nationals were trapped on a beach at Durres, with gunfire from rampaging young Albanians shattering the night around them. Lacy, the senator said, managed to get a cellular phone working and kept hammering at official Washington with requests for aid until the urgency of the situation finally registered. Officially, Lacy says, we werent there. The Pentagon wasnt convinced I was calling from Durres. Even the U.S. embassy in Albania thought all Americans had been evacuated. We were forgotten -- sitting ducks for the Albanian rioters, who got more insane as the night went on. Lacy, a hydrogen sulfide gas specialist with Secorp of Lafayette, was working on a drilling rig in Peza, Albania when the country began its plunge into anarchy following the collapse of a national pyramid scheme. We knew early on that things were heating up, he says, but when you work the global oil patch, you sort of get used to turmoil. I had to leave Yemen in a hurry once when civil war broke out, and get out of Liberia in the middle of a military coup. Always before, though, there was some measure of protection, and U.S. officials knew where we were. This time, we were simply overlooked. Evacuation of American nationals from Albania was ordered March 12 as the country fell into total chaos. The area I was in was still peaceful, Lacy says, and getting out looked easy. I was supposed to travel to Tirana, spend a restful night in a hotel there, then take a plane out of the country. It didnt turn out that way. That night, the chaotic situation accelerated. Gun-toting young Albanians swarmed through the streets of Tirana, shooting wildly and looting with impunity. Lacy and the Croatian oil field crew that had accompanied him from Peza awoke to find themselves surrounded by unchecked lawlessness and violence. I was feeling good when I got through the mobs and hit open country on the way to the airport. I was on the road without a radio and missed the announcement that the airport had closed because rebel forces were advancing on it. There was nothing to do when I got there but turn around and head back to Tirana. There, hopes were raised again. Foreign nationals were told to go to a beach at nearby Durres, where they would be picked up by an Italian ferry and taken safely across the Adriatic to Italy. When they got there, Lacy and the Croatians oil workers who had been at Peza with him found that the ferry had come and gone, picking up only Italian refugees. American officials didnt get the message. Washington was under the impression that American nationals had been taken out as well. The misconception was strengthened by erroneous news reports of a successful evacuation. The Croatians decided to hole up in a Durres hotel, but I felt that if we didnt get to the beach right away, the crazies in the streets might cut us off from it when a boat arrived to take us out. I finally convinced them, and after they decided to follow my lead I realized that they expected me to provide leadership from then on. There was no time to explain that it would be the blind leading the blind, so I didnt argue with them. Lacy and his band of Croatians made it safely to the beach, where they found more than 300 foreign nationals who had not made it aboard the Italian ferry. We were completely vulnerable, he says. There was the sea in front of us, walls on two sides, and a chain link fence behind us. Beyond that were the roving thieves and the crazy people firing AK-47s they had looted from military arsenals. The refugees on the beach were a mixed group: American, British, Croatian, French, Italian and other nationalities. Most of them had only the clothing they wore. They had been robbed of other possessions. We got through with our stuff, Lacy says. Some of the Albanians menaced us a few times on the way in, but then they looked at the Croatians and backed off. Most of the Croations were big as bears and tough as boot leather. The looters apparently didnt want to tangle with them. I think they showed good judgment. There was another group on the beach, Lacy says, that would cause the looters to stop and think before tangling with them. They were American missionaries from HeliMission, part of a Southern Baptist mission to Albania called Albania Evangelical Rural Outreach (AERO). I decided these were Gods tough guys, Lacy says. They were accustomed to ministering to people in the midst of famine, disease and civil disorder. They were calm and almost cheerful while they went around comforting and caring for other people. You sensed that they would face whatever happened with that same kind of serenity. There were more than 100 British nationals on the beach, but they were separated from the rest. A lone commando sent in to protect them was, at first, adamantly following orders that he was to be responsible for the British and no one else. He kept his charges huddled together, rejecting contact with other refugees. That changed as night began to fall and there was no sign of a rescue effort, Lacy says. For one thing, the Croatians were professional refugees. They had been in situations like this before and were prepared. They came with bundles of bread, salami and cheese, and a pretty good supply of vodka and beer. What really broke the ice with the British, though, was that the violence was getting closer, and the Albanians were beginning to look at the women in a disturbing way. Finally, the British officer asked me if I could bring some of my Croatians over to stand with him. After that, we were all united. We circled all the available vehicles, like a wagon train in the old west. The Croatians sort of stood guard at the edges of the circle, and the HeliMissionaries were at the center. We did what we could for each other, particularly for the old people and the children. When the anxiety would build to the point that you could feel it in the air, the missionaries would pray, and it would calm us all down again. As the night deepened the violence around them increased. I began to suspect that nobody knew we were there and no one was coming to take us out. Somehow we had to make contact with U.S. officials before the violence got down the beach to us. The only communications devices available were a few cellular phones the Croatians had brought in. The other refugees had surrendered theirs to the Albanian looters. Lacy found that the batteries were dead in all of them, and none was equipped to run off an automobile cigarette lighter. When my brother Kenny and I lost communications in a storm once while we were sailing a boat from the Bahamas to Virginia Beach, we managed to hook up a cellular phone to a 12-volt battery. There in that Croatian oil field crew we had guys who were good with equipment, even an electrician. We dug up some electrical wire, reworked the phone, connected it to a truck battery, and I guess one of the happiest moments of my life was when I punched a button and it beeped. We had a working telephone. The elation was short-lived. Lacy had no phone numbers to call for help. I didnt know if it would work, but I tried calling my wife, Colleen, in Houston. She got me a number for Sen. Hutchinsons local office and they gave me her direct line to Washington. She could hear the gunfire over the phone, and when I told her what our situation was and that there were women and children in the group, she really got her staff to moving. First they contacted the U.S. embassy in Albania and confirmed what I had guesssed: embassy officials thought all Americans had been evacuated. Next, the senators office put me through to the Pentagon. I think the people there were skeptical. They kept putting me on hold, and every time they did that, I lost contact. Finally, I called Sen. Hutchinsons staff and told them what was happening. They got on another line and I could hear them talking to the Pentagon. No soldier ever got dressed down like they dressed down those Pentagon officials. When they got through raising hell, I was put straight through to a high-ranking officer in charge of Albanian affairs. Meanwhile, Colleen had contacted Lacys mother, Leora Hamm, in New Roads, La. She was able to reach the division of the U.S. State Department with responsiblity for Albanian affairs and advise them of the situation. The phone line from New Roads to Washington was active most of the night. After I talked to the Pentagon, Lacy says, Sen. Hutchinsons people urged me to get on CNN. They felt that, since the news broadcasts were heard worldwide, rescuers from some nearby country might hear me and send a ship for us. CNN put me on but they wanted to talk about what I had seen in Peza, Tirana and Durres, not what was happening on the beach. I finally shouted that peoples lives were in danger and women and children were at risk, but they told me that part didnt get on the air. They asked me to call back in an hour. I didnt. I wasnt trying to be a reporter, I was begging for help. All through the night, Lacy stayed on the phone, one call leading to another. I was contacting anybody and everybody who might be able to get a rescue mission started, he said. If I could have got the presidents phone number, I would have called him. A reporter for a German publication who stayed close to Lacy, scribbling notes, commented that Ive got a Pulitzer Prize story going here. As the sun finally rose over the Adriatic, it illuminated a boat making its way to the dock. The Italian ferry had come back. As it reached shore, Lacy and the Croatians formed up as a rear guard while the missionaries herded the refugees onboard. Finally, with everyone else safe, Lacy climbed on the ferry. At Brandisi, Italy, he dodged American military officers. They were somewhat angrily searching for the guy with the cellular phone who had brought the wrath of their superiors down on them for failing to make sure all Americans had been evacuated. Lacy arrived in Houston exhausted and planning a long sleep, but that didnt happen until a round of interviews had been completed with print and broadcast reporters who had learned of the long night on the Albanian beach. Now that its all over, he says, the thing that stands out in my memory is the courage and compassion I witnessed that night. I know what writers mean when they talk about the triumph of the human spirit. Last week, Lacy got a call from Croatia. The oil field crew had voted unanimously to urge him to come back and work with them again. You were in all the newspapers here, the caller said. Youre very big in Croatia.

I'm supposed to tell you about Dud's early career...because I worked with him when he was a television newsman. It's just as well that the rest of these guys talk about his politics, because I don't know anything about that. Back in Winnfield where I grew up, we had a very simple way of choosing a mayor. We'd find a fellow who was too lazy to work and too nervous to steal and make him mayor. Kept him off the streets. (Y'all didn't use that formula did you Herbert?)

Anyhow...Dud's days as a newsman. You have to understand that Lafayette was very small then. Everybody knew what everybody else was doing...and they just watched Dud to see if they got caught at it.

The news corps was very small then. Channel 10, The Advertiser, KPEL and KVOl. Four people covering the city beat. It was pretty harrowing duty so sometimes we'd drink a little bit to steady our nerves. About three o'clock in the afternoon, we'd get so damned steady we couldn't move. Except Dud. Dud was the kind of fellow who would buy groceries when there wan't any whisky in the house. Rest of us didn't trust a guy like that.

But Dud was a good newsman. He'd walk into any situation, no matter how tough. He'd go into places were he knew he'd be faced with hate, anger, brutality, violence.

Wait, I"m getting ahead of myself. That was city council meetings after he became mayor.

When he was a newsman, he was the entire Channel Ten news staff.

He'd do a lot of interviews. I remember....bed ridden.

The Declouets didn't let him do interviews after tha.

And he did commentary once. He was sort of the journalistic father of Jim Baronet. Nother reason I never voted for him.

He did this commentary on the Tidelands controversy. The Tidelands was a big issue back then. Dud stood there flat foot and four square in front of the TV cameras and argued that they ought to be untied.

The Declouets didn't let him do commentary after that.

He did agricultural news. I remember one time he showed this animal with no horns and explained that a cow could be without horns because it was born that way, or the horns could be lost in an accident, or they could be removed because of some disease.

That was fine until a farmer called in and said the reason the cow in the picture didn't have any horns was because it was a horse.

Tom Pears didn't let him do agricultureal news after that.

But despite all this, Dud developed one thing that was to be the centerpiece of his governmental career...an ability that marked his years of public service...and typified his time as mayor. He learned to play golf.

(USE AN OLD BALL)

I hope this has enlightened you somewhat about Dud's early career. I'm supposed to tell you that there is a table set up outside with Dud LaStrape memorabilia for sale.

Doll....wind up. $2.00

Puppet. $63,00.50

50 cents for puppet. $63,000 for Glenn Weber to come pull its strings.

AMWAY Distributor

I guess his Last week I reviewed all of Dud's campaign promises the three times he ran, and all he accomplished in his three terms, and I tried to sum it all up in verse.

(COULDN'T BE DONE)

J. Rayburn Bertrand served as mayor of Lafayette for 12

years (1960-72), leaving behind him much tangible evidence of his

superb leadership and unyielding dedication. But perhaps his

greatest monument is the simple contract he engineered between

the city and its future, which--30 years ago--opened the way to

progress and growth, and will benefit generations of Lafayette

residents yet to come. It is in simple form: a one percent sales

tax to fund the expansion of the city's infrastructure as popula

tion growth creates new demands. Because of this simple measure,

which Ray and his administration took to the voters shortly after

he was elected to his first term, Lafayette will not be caught in

the dilemma it faced immediately prior 1960.

When Ray took office, the city was dangerously swollen at

the seams. Due largely to the influx of petroleum industry

offices to the Heymann Oil Center, the once sleepy little bayou

town had begun to grow at a remarkable pace. A population explo

sion was underway...and Lafayette was not equipped to meet the

heavy new demands for municipal services.

Ray and his fellow officials, Trustee of Finance Dan Bou

dreaux and Trustee of Public Property Curtis Rodemacher, had a

plan before the public almost before the ink was dry on their

official commissions. Voters were asked to consider proposals

constituting the administration's "Big Step Program," which asked

approval of the one percent sales tax, a million dollar ad valo o13

rem bond issue, and a $10-per-front-foot assessment on proper

ties along major arteries, for improvements to those arteries.

Along with the bond and tax measures went a $500 homestead exemp

The key feature of the proposal was a safeguard against

siphoning off the sales tax revenue in future years for other

uses, thus putting the city at risk of another period of growth

without a funding mechanism to cope with it. Ray had the fore

sight to ask the voters to approve dedication of 90 percent of

the revenues to capital improvements. It is not subject to

political whims. "Long after I'm gone," he says, "Lafayette

will be financially geared for growth--because the sales tax

revenues will be there, increasing as the population increases,

and providing the funding to keep pace with progress."

Thus the Ray Bertrand Years began with a plea to people to

dig into their pockets and dig the city out of its dilemma. The

vote of approval for "The Big Step Program" was one of the

strongest votes of confidence ever given a political leader on a

tax issue. The sales tax passed by a vote of 3-2 and the bond

issue by 3-1, with one of the largest voter turnouts ever. The

Big Step carried every precinct but one.

With the program in place and generating revenue, Lafayette

began to take giant steps. In low income neighborhoods, resi

dents had choked for generations on the dust from shell and o13 gravel (mostly shell) streets, their only respite the temporary

one provided by the old watering trucks--an expensive and inef

fective effort on the city's part.

The very early Bertrand Years saw the resurfacing--not

patching--of 60 miles of streets, and families along those thor

oughfares began to breathe normally again on hot, dusty days.

The next problem was at the opposite end of the spectrum;

when the rain was heavy enough to settle the dust, chances were

very good that it would be heavy enough to cause flooding at

numerous points in the city. The problem was bad before the

population growth that began in the fifties. As today, drainage

was through coulees, in which bushes and trees grew, and erosion

created mounds that impeded the flow. With the population

growth, large open areas that had accepted rainfall into the

ground were quickly covered with concrete. With ground absorp

tion blocked by cement, the water needed to flow...and the coulee

flow was sluggish at best.

A heavy rain could virtually shut down the city. The Jef

ferson Street Underpass would flood. Areas north of the railroad

tracks in the area through which the Evangeline Thruway now runs

were inundated. The police headquarters in the basement of the

old city hall had watermarks nearly to the ceiling after a flood.

There were few areas of the city safe from a really heavy down

The Bertrand Years saw the reworking of the drainage system. o13

Where plant growth and silt had slowed the flow until the water

often sought a new route (over the banks), the city cleared and

concreted the coulees.

The growth spurt had threatened the safety of the city from

fire, also. There was not enough manpower or equipment. The

improvements to the fire department in the Bertrand Years were so

effective that the rating bureau moved the city from a Class 9 to

a Class 2. Everyone was safer, and paying much less in fire

insurance premiums.

The same inadequacies--manpower and equipment--lessened the

ability of the police department to protect the city. The admin

istration launched a series of improvements which culminated in a

well-staffed, well trained, well-equipped force operating from a

modern police and city court facility.

The recreation and parks system was drastically affected by

the population growth. There were far too many citizens for the

facilities. The Bertrand Administration increased the acreage

for parks and recreation use 10-fold.

There were other major improvements, too numerous to men

tion. In short, Ray Bertrand became mayor at a time when the city

had completely outgrown its infrastructure. With bold, practical

moves, he brought us abreast of the growth and gave us the munic

ipal services and facilities needed by a city on the move. Just

as importantly--perhaps more so--his foresight in dedicating the o13 one percent sales tax to meeting capital needs has insulated us

from a return to those traumatic days when the needs of the

people exceeded the capabilities of the municipality.

The vast improvements to municipal facilities and service

during the Bertrand Years were obvious. We saw the crews at work

and the projects taking shape. But another major contribution by

Mayor J. Rayburn Bertrand was done so quietly that few people

know the story. It was during his administration that racially

segregated public facilities were abolished in Louisiana, with

turmoil and bloodshed in certain areas of the state. In Lafay

ette, however, the new day dawned without incident, largely

through the never-publicized diplomacy of the mayor.

"The change was here," Bertrand said. "The time for inte

gration had come, and our priority was seeing that it did not

bring with it situations which would cause harm to our

citizens--black or white." Without fanfare, Bertrand launched a

campaign to make the social transition a peaceful one. He met

with owners of restaurants and other commercial establishments

who would be affected first by the demise of segregation and

argued logically and persuasively for acceptance and tolerance.

Working with the outstanding citizens of the Biracial Coun

cil, he arranged things like the quiet integration of the munici

pal golf course. "We didn't want a demonstration-type incident,"

he says. "Through the council, we picked a black foursome and

asked them to be the first ever to tee off at Muny. We told them o13

there might be harassment, but that they were doing something

good for black people and white people in breaking the barrier as

quietly as possible. They played 18 holes without incident, and a

new era began in Lafayette."

The symbolic sit-ins at local lunch counters also were

without incident. "We had no intention of telling them they

couldn't sit at the lunch counters, and we had no intention of

telling the owners whether or not they had to serve the sit-in

group. Our intention was to keep anyone from getting hurt, and

we were prepared for that. But there was no trouble."

Bertrand downplays his vital role in the peaceful integra

tion. "Basically, it was the nature of our people," he says.

"Even those who didn't want to accept integration never made the

slightest move toward violent resistance. The people who operat

ed businesses--and had understandable concerns about the effect

on their livelihoods--were wonderfully cooperative. Lafayette has

truly good people."

Ray Bertrand springs from a line of doers and shakers. His

grandfather wore many hats: grocer, bar owner, postmaster and

railroad agent. He was also a peacemaker, and died of a gunshot

wound received when he attempted to break up a fight between two

customers. His son, J.C., (Ray's father) was nine-years-old at

the time. He finished the ninth grade, then went to work full

time. Despite his limited education, he progressed rapidly in o13 the utility field, and in 1926, organized his own electric compa

ny in Lockport, Louisiana, eventually providing power for an area

from Thibodeaux to Golden Meadow. When he sold his company to

what was to become Louisiana Power and Light, the Bertrand family

moved to Lafayette--to a farm on what is now Bertrand Drive.

There, the Bertrands raised cattle, cotton and corn, and J.C.

Bertrand pursued his great love, buying and selling real

estate--a love which he passed on to Ray, the youngest of his

five children.

The Bertrand property was way out in the country then. Ray

remembers riding his horse to the old Lafayette High on Universi

ty, through mostly open countryside. He graduated from that

institution, then attended LSU and USL. Shortly after receiving

his degree in accounting and economics from USL in 1941, he was

called to military service. America was at war.

Since the time of Lindbergh's fabled flight, Ray had dreamed

of being a military pilot. He was a good one. At the stick of

the P-47 Thunderbolt, he flew 88 combat missions in the European

Theater in World War II, bringing home two Distinguished Flying

Crosses and seven Air Medals.

After the war, Ray approached his business career and civic

responsibilities with vigor. Following in his father's footsteps,

he entered the real estate field--which eventually lead him to

seek the office of mayor. It was as a realtor--studying various

properties--that he saw more than most people what the pressing o13

needs of the city were. Serving on the Planning and Zoning Com

mission, he participated in a comprehensive study of municipal

problems and needs. From these experiences, he developed the

basis of a program he believed would provide for Lafayette's

growth and progress.

The voters liked his program. He was elected mayor in 1960

and re-elected in '64 and '68. "I never intended to be a career

politician," he says. "After 12 years, I felt like my goals had

been accomplished and it was time to return to the private sec

From the end of his third term until his retirement, Ray

served as executive vice president and member of the board of

directors of Guaranty Bank and Trust Company.

In and out of the mayor's office, Ray Bertrand has been

unceasingly involved in making Lafayette a better city in which

to live. His interests in the ecology were evident long before

environmental issues became a national obsession. In 1965, he

won the "Project Earth" award from the Louisiana Architects

Association for programs to improve the environment.

He has served as president of the United Givers Fund, the

USL Foundation, the Lafayette Board of Realtors and the Louisiana

Municipal Association. Other organizations to which he has given

his time and energy include the Louisiana State Bank Affairs

Commission, the Louisiana State Bankers Association Legislative o1o- Committee, the Lafayette Airport Commission, the Lafayette Plan

ning Commission, the Southwest Louisiana Mardi Gras Association,

the Louisiana Gulf Coast Oil Exposition, the Greater Lafayette

Chamber of Commerce, the Lafayette Junior League Advisory Board

and the Greater Lafayette Chamber of Commerce.

He is a recipient of the coveted YMBC Civic Cup Award,

possibly the highest tribute paid in Lafayette for community

In retirement, Ray enjoys golfing, snow skiing, hunting,

boating, and-of course--flying.

In 1960, the City of Lafayette was floundering under the

weight of its own population explosion and desperately in need of

true excellence in leadership. Ray offered that leadership, the

people accepted and trusted him, and he guided us to a new era.

The Bertrand Years were twelve in number, an impressive political

term, but a relatively short span of time in the annals of Lafay

ette history. In those years, Ray Bertrand left a mark on this

city that the years will not erase.