Louisiana Alive!; Louisiana Characters

[Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] Happy New Year. I'm Marti Luke, and welcome to Louisiana Alive. A few days ago, someone asked me what I enjoyed best about working on Louisiana Alive. I didn't even have to think about it. The very best part of doing this show is

meeting a variety of unusual characters from all over the state. Tonight we thought you'd enjoy a backward glance at some of the most interesting people we've featured during the past year. We'll take you all around the state, and you'll get re-acquainted with quilters from North Louisiana and our African cane carver David Allen. You'll meet author Mary Alice Fontenot and TV personality Jim Olivier from Lafayette, also our Creole and Cajun storytellers and many, many more. In all our discussions about who should appear on tonight's show, the name Thelma Toole was always high on the list. Thelma is an elderly New Orleans lady whose son wrote an ambitious comic novel 15 years ago. His efforts to have the book published failed and in 1969 he committed suicide. Almost immediately, his mother, whose whole life had revolved around her only child, set out to have the book published. After years of trying, which included bursting in on

famed author Walker Percy and demanding that he read the book, she succeeded. And now that novel, A Confederacy of Dunces, has broken all sales records for its publisher the LSU Press, been on the best seller list for months and been acclaimed a masterpiece by critics all over the United States. What kind of a woman could accomplish such a thing? A woman like Thelma Toole. I tried. Three times. Twice he wasn't there. He was ill, and the third time he appeared. And I took about 10 minutes of his time. I knew he was a busy man. He said,"You're a mother." He said, "You're prejudiced." I said, "Yes, I'd go before the most prestigious publishers of the world and tell them this is a masterpiece because I'm a mild critic of literature. I love literature, but I don't know how I'm

rated, but I think I know literature. My son adored literature. It's great. It's great that the person pleased. Well, he did plan to read it, take it home with him, and within a week he sent a card saying it's the most flavorful rendition of New Orleans that he had ever read. No one in the past has ever approached him, and no one in the future will ever approach Confederacy of Dunces for presenting New Orleans. Is Confederacy of Dunces autobiographical? How could Ignatius, the slob, be my elegant gentleman? My elegant gentleman with his French brought pride and his magnificent sense of good taste and the nice things of life.

There is absolutely no correlation of the Iggy Piggy Ignatius and my son. Several people have asked. Why? How could that have been my son? How about Mrs. Reilly? Is there any correlation between you and Mrs. Reilly? A highly cultivated woman three years old introduced to speech and dramatic arts. Ten years of piano, studied five of violin. Sixteen years of dramatic art, a public school teacher. Could I have been? Could you honestly ask me? And my sense of good taste in dress. And Irene Reilly with a pink hat and a yellow topper and a purple dress and old rundown wedges?

Oh, never. Another New Orleanian who really made an impression on us was cartoonist John Chase. Chase and his thousands of political cartoons are legendary in New Orleans. For years he was a fixture in the daily papers and then on television. His views about politics and life, offering an enchanting mix of sharp insight and subtle humor. (Music with words) [Music] I can remember reading your editorial cartoons in the States Item, oh 20 years ago, and I specifically remember that every evening my father would come home and say to my mother, "What's for dinner and have you seen Chase tonight?" Is that right? Yes, really. And your career has not only been in editorial cartooning, you're a

writer, an artist, all sorts of things. What all started it? Did you start as a cartoonist? Yes, I started as a cartoonist as I was saying the other day on, in kindergarten, as a matter of fact. And as I said the other day I thought that it was rather remarkable that the teacher in the kindergarten would call my grandmother down who had taught in one of the upper grades, such as the third, to see what I'd drawn on the blackboard. I'd drawn a horse with only four legs, and all the other kids had horses with a lot of legs on them. So that was the first time I - that was true talent - came to the conclusion that if you have any talent it amounts to knowing how many legs a horse has got. [Laughter] And when did you actually start a career in cartooning? I went to high school here in New Orleans and this art teacher there, she was, she let me have my own way and draw cartoons while everybody else was getting an education in art. And she persuaded my family who had ideas that I should be in a bank somewhere

and sending me to art school in Chicago, so I went there and I was back in New Orleans drawing cartoons before Huey Long was elected. And I was drawing cartoons urging people to vote before I was old enough to vote. As I like to point out, when somebody says how long have you been drawing cartoons, this is what I've been drawing them since the days of Huey Long. And I drew them all the time he was governor and senator. And the night he was shot, I was sent up to the city, to Baton Rouge by the city editor because I think his name was de Gaulle, the adjutant general then was threatening to break any cameras sent up there by any photographer and those cameras cost a hundred and seven dollars and they figured that a nickel pencil was a less of a risk and I was sent up there to make a diagram of the manner in which the assassination took place outside of the side of the legislative chamber. You know, speaking of Huey Long, you and the paper that you worked for were critical of Long during his administration. And now I know that Long was a very powerful man in

Louisiana. Did he ever try to intimidate you in any way? No. I only met the man once and he was then a senator with a black Homburg and a blue coat with a little velvet collar and walking through the newsroom, and I was introduced to him. And he said, "Oh, you're the one that draw those pictures. I'm going to send you a photograph of myself so you'll know what I look like." The Cajun country of South Louisiana has to have more characters per square mile than any other area of the state. And one of our favorites from there is Creole storyteller Ben Guine, who has the wonderful ability to enjoy his own stories as much as his listeners do. [French language] [French language] [French language] [French language]

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[French language] [French language] [French language] [French language] If I remember correctly, Lafayette television personality Jim Olivier was over an hour late for our interview, but once he arrived we realized that meeting him was worth the wait. And we also understood why his early morning French television show Passe Partout is so popular with people in the Lafayette area. Passe Partout is written in two words: P-a-s-s-e p-a-r-t-o-u-t. Literally the words mean go everywhere. Passe means pass. You'd say pass everywhere, but the name passe partout is a name that Cajuns gave to a crosscut

saw years ago. You've seen the two-handle cross cut saw that they use cut, you know, timber and wood and stuff with. That's what they call a passe partout. And I guess they call it that because you could take it anywhere. I see. And it's an early morning show, right? Very early. What do you feature? Okay the program is on the air at 5:45 until 7:00. The first 30 minutes of the show is done completely in French. We start with French music. We do news in French, do weather in French. We have interviews in French and, of course, the music is done in French at a quarter after until 7. Then everything is just translated over to English. We have English music, English interviews, English weather, English news. I'm wondering if you have many English-speaking viewers that perhaps just tune in to listen. It's amazing, the audience that I think that we have in the morning. Of course, the ratings are one thing, but I don't think there's any rating service that can truly tell us how many people in all these different places are watching the program. First of all, it's the only or the first news and weather early in the morning. So mom wants to know how to dress the kids for school today, contractor wants to know does he, you

know, pour his cement today or not. He doesn't really need to speak French to know that. He can tune in and we have, you know, weather on [inaudible] fonts and stuff. There are many people from out of state who move into Louisiana and this area that say, "Well, we don't understand the music and don't understand what you're saying, but we enjoy it anyway, you know." How did you become involved in a French-speaking program? Well, it started, I guess, in high school. We had to do a career booklet in one of our civics classes and I had been interested in broadcasting for such a long time. I'd been working in radio since 1967 and Tom Pierce over at Channel 10 called me one day and said, Do you speak French? And I said, yeah, I got trouble talking English to be truthful with you. He said well we have a slot early in the morning and need a French announcer. Are you available? So I went over and from then on have been doing the program. Did you have any trouble taking the French that you spoke at home and putting it into a professional, you know, with, any trouble with

idioms or things like? It still is kind of difficult until this day today. I get, I guess, an average of maybe three letters a week from people all over the state who are being critical, I guess in a way. They, they just I don't know what the word is. They just send letters to me saying I'm not saying things correctly, you know, and it's kind of hard because every little town in Louisiana where French is spoken... there's always something spoken different than, than the other areas. And what I'm saying. There is, for instance, the word glass. You can call it a goblet (French). In one town they'll call it a goblet and in the other town they call it a verte, you know. And verte is the color green. So it's just, you know, no matter where you live around here, everybody speaks a little differently, you know, so I guess everyone would be critical of something that I would say. It's very difficult to try to please everybody. Do you feel that most of your viewers are bilingual? No. No, I think that, I think that the rural area is where we're confined to with the French, you know. I would think a very

small part of them are. Around Halloween we visited Helen Zumo in Baker, who shares her home in the suburbs of Baton Rouge with her husband John and a gentle ghost named George. I didn't get to meet George, but Helen herself was quite a character. He doesn't like blonde-headed, blue-eyed engaged girls. And different people say well, you know, why? And I say well the only thing I can dig is maybe a blond-haired blue-eyed engaged girl jilted him or something like that. I mean, you just don't know. And how do you know he doesn't like them? Well, my husband had a little niece and we gave a shower here for her and after the shower she went upstairs with her mother and the boy and his mother and when she started back down the stairs, well, she fell and I could just see, you know, a broken neck or something. She wasn't really hurt, but she said something pushed me. And I said, oh, Kathy, just hearing us talk about the ghost made you think something pushed you. She said, no

said the first time he pushed me, it surprised me. And said the second time, I was prepared and said I dug my heels in, and she had on the big chunky heels and a brand new outfit, brand new shoes. And when she pressed with these heels, both heels came off her new shoes. And my husband went and picked them up said, they wasn't caught on anything. If it had been the spiked heels women used to wear it I'd said maybe they caught on the carpet, you know. But it was a chunky heels and they weren't caught on anything. Until today she still says something pushed her down the stairs. Now generally do you feel that George is a good spirit? These are two things that he's done that haven't been very nice. But what were those in the minority? You're right. That's the only things he's ever really done bad. Other things are little things. He moves furniture and opens and shuts doors, turns the lights off and on, this type of thing. So, which I don't consider bad. And you know. Why do you think he picked you? I don't know. I really don't, unless he really is kin to me maybe and I happened to go up that way where he's at, you see,

say and they say, come home with me. Do you have a feeling that he's trying to communicate with you, that he has something to tell you? I just don't know. I've never tried to talk to him. But different people always say that they have some reason for coming back maybe to tell you something or something you know they're trying to tell. Now you did touch him once, didn't you? Reached out to touch him and just as I did, it was just like batting your eyes and he was gone. One time you ran into him, didn't you? It was just like running into something solid, a real person. We were going to my daughter's for supper and I was in a hurry and run upstairs and got dressed and when I come out of my bathroom it was just like you go around a corner and run into somebody and it stopped me just like I had ran into somebody. Saw him just for a second, and he looked just as startled as I did. How long did it take you to get used to living with this spirit? Several months, I can assure you. Would you like George to stay on indefinitely? I think he should go on. Really there's a, you know, a spirit world and I think he should go

on into this spirit world. Any idea when, when he'll leave? Or have you had any experiences lately? What's the last time you came in contact? We often hear him. I mean you, you hear footsteps and you go look and there's nothing. The doorbell rings and you go and there's nothing and sometimes you find little shivers of glass on the floor and you don't know where it came from. Can't find anything broke, but, I mean, there's glass, you know, this type of thing. We just assume he did it. Okay. But you'd like him to stick around for a little bit while? Or would you like another ghost after him? On, no. [Laughter] One's enough. Right here in Baton Rouge is a man whose ability to do so many things so well never ceases to amaze us. He's a playwright who's had the thrill of seeing his own play produced on Broadway for a limited, but successful run. He's a novelist.

He's an advertising and public relations genius. He has so many interesting and unusual ideas that you could talk to him forever. For me, interviewing Gus Weill is always a treat. The reviews come in. How do you handle a bad review? Because this is a creation of yours. I do it in a very cowardly way. I don't read it and I don't read it for a very simple reason. It is so difficult to psyche yourself up to hit a typewriter seven days a week. It is so very difficult and so lonely and you're so isolated that I don't read the bad reviews because I'm afraid that if I do, it'll, it will deter me. It'll keep me from going to that typewriter. I'll say well maybe I'm wasting my time, maybe I'm really not any good or maybe what I'm putting on the paper is junk. And so really, as I say, it's cowardly, because I'm sure that I could learn a lot. Some of those reviewers are very fine people. They know a lot more about it, for example,

than me. But I just stay away from it so that I won't be discouraged. Now the good reviews, I memorize. [Laughter] I don't have to do a lot of memorizing. You really cannot overstate the importance of the reviews, can you? You live or die by them and only three of them matter: the three New York papers. The New York Times primarily. If you get a bad review from them, there's no way to keep running. Once in a while you'll hear about a show that made it in spite of the New York Times. Almost impossible. So it's rather interesting - what you're doing is all of your efforts are aimed towards your constituency of three people. Those three newspaper critics. And you ask yourself all these horrifying questions: Suppose the guy has a headache before he comes to the theater? Suppose he had a fight with his wife? Suppose he's sitting in the theater and he gets a toothache? You go through all those things. And I know that every playwright does. Waiting for the reviews is the ultimate in pressure. If you were a

drinker, you would get drunk. If you were a dope fiend, you would get on dope. Because it is the ultimate pressure wherein the work of a year I've had a play close in an evening, just in an evening, you know. The next day the theater is locked. So it's, it's, it is a, it's a terrible thing. It's so terrible. I don't know how long it will take me to get my courage up to try it again. It's that, you know. Even though this last one was a success. Yes, it's that damaging to the ego. If you happened to see our quilting show a few weeks back, I know you loved our quilters. Rosie Allen, Mittie Pirkle Weldon and Opal Madden are three terrific ladies and visiting them in their North Louisiana homes was a joy. I was so little we didn't have a thimble to fit me and I've pushed a needle with my middle finger on my right hand. So Mama took paper and cloth and wrapped and wrapped to keep the needle from sticking into my finger. And that was my thimble to start with. I guess I was about

10 or 11 years old. I might have been a little younger. My mother always loved to piece quilts. And like mother, like daughter, like mother. And you always want to do something, you know, when you're that small. And so she learned us all how to piece quilts. She had five girls, four girls and one boy. And so she taught us then to piece quilts. So I started piecing when I was real young and so I quit for a while and since I got older, I got back into it and I love it. I'm to get these pieces in together. And it really doesn't take long to make a flower garden if you've got the time and willing to sit a little while and piece one together. This is, this is one of the tricks right here to this quilt, is putting your edges right here together, making sure these corners on this side and this side are exactly aligned. And then that will make the

corners inside of the quilt flat and smooth like it's supposed to be. The next step in quilt making is to add a backing or lining to the quilt. This is usually done by pinning the lining to a wooden frame, which is hung from the ceiling. Mittie Pirkle Weldon from Bernice, however, has a different type of frame which she built herself. Well, the reason I made them, I had to have a place to put my quilt. I didn't have room for big frames like we used to quilt, where we let them down from the ceiling. Frames the full width of the quilt. So I put my thinking cap on and I came up with this idea that just made quilting horses. I'd seen saw horses where people used them to saw wood and then I saw one pair of quilting horses that was altogether different from this, it took up so much room. But I wanted some that were narrower and simple so I got my saw and hammer and went to my husband's lumber

pile and made these with the two legs and a strip across where I'd put the quilt on. I sawed down from the edge of the end of it out a piece enough to allow the frame to rest on there and I put braces to keep it from turning over in either direction. I used two of them and put my frames in place with some big old nails that I got out of a barn somewhere. We can't forget Rosie Allen's husband David, the African cane carver, a very talented and unusual man. In order to bring the design, I moved clear. I started after this kind of on an angle like following it around and around. And then I usually change it around in order to

make this angle which for me put... [natural sound] I kind of got this idea of like stripes in peppermint candy or something like that. The idea kind of came idea mostly came from my own a long time ago used to be a barber shop in town and he had this deal out on the outside of the barber shop with these stripes turning round and round. And so basically that's where I got it from. And I thought about those stripes turning around and around. So I make some of them round and some of them on a different angle. And as a kid, I used to hunt four leaf clovers. And I really looked at finding four leaf clovers. And he told me they was lucky and so I begin to kind of like the idea of putting the four leaf clovers in there. Four leaf clovers he said were lucky and I always consider being pretty lucky.

Many of David's canes are carved to look like serpents and although David admits to having no great love for real snakes, he does enjoy carving them. This one kind of remind you of a rattlesnake. The spots and the textures kind of give you similar to a rattlesnake. But really I don't like snakes. In general, I'm not afraid of them, but I just don't like them. I really don't like them. But I enjoy making them I can control, you know. I can control these wood snakes. So those are some of our favorite characters from 1980. We hope that '81 will be as full of interesting people from all over the state. Next week, a backward glance at some of the places and events we visited and enjoyed during the past year. See you next week on Louisiana Live