Loving ourselves, our neighbor and God are at the heart of our religion
November 9, 2017
10 years later, charges are filed
November 9, 2017
May 25, 1953 was a beautiful day and Johnny Schouest picked me up bright and early. He had a new Buick sedan with only 2900 miles on the meter, which he proudly showed me as he popped the trunk open with a dashboard switch, which also impressed me. As I put my travel kit next to his, I noticed an ice chest filled with bottles of J3}: and Dixie beer. Meridian, Mississippi and the “Jimmie Rodgers Day” celebration was our destination, which was over 300 miles away on two lane highways US. 90 (081’— Old Spanish Trail) and U.S. 11. Johnny had made sure we would not get thirsty along the way.
We drove to pick up KTIB manager Hal Benson and headed towards New Orleans. As we arrived, Hal said, “take St. Charles Avenue,” and after about 30 blocks, he had Johnny stopped in front of a mansion. I said, “hey, I lived in New Orleans and I know that’s the fancy high society dinning joint ‘Corrine Dunbar’s.’ Hal answered, “yes, and she’s also my mother and will feed us.” My jaw dropped as an attendant parked the car and we walked in through the back way A tall, elegant, beautifully gowned lady gave Hal a hug and said “welcome son, it’s been awhile. My guest are about to dine so wait here in the kitchen”.
(A Historic note) — In the Great Depression, locals and tourists dined in French style at the lovely home of Corinne Dun’bar’s on St. Charles Avenue. Dunbar, an uptown widow served her customers as if they were guests in her home. Reservations were priceless and required. Escorted and served by maids and butlers in her belle epoque-style parlor the guest had paid for the seven course creole style meal on the way in to preserve the image of being guests at a party rather than just customers. At her death in 1947, her daughter (Hal’s mother) had taken over but changed nothing, keeping the name, style, culture and reputation.” (Tom Fitzmorris in the Times Picayune}.
We were in “High Cotton!
As we entered Hal said “Morn, can you have your chef fix us a sandwich?” She replied “I’ll do no such thing. You’ll eat what my guests (never called customers) are eating.” Hal protested but she insisted and we sat in the kitchen and were served and ate a seven course meal with the most delightful dishes that I had never seen before or after. We gave our thanks and headed to radio station WDSU to meet with Bill Stanley.
Well fed, we met him at WDSU television, then the only television station in New Orle— ans and Hal already knew that Bill was going to the festival but was flying to Meridian. While hauling the heavy recorder, I mentioned I had an extra ticket to Mrs. Rodgers’s reception. “I’d love to attend that, but I don’t have a ticket, but if you’re offering, I’m taking.” Done! Quid Pro Quo.
We were on our way to witness the greatest country music occasion ever held anywhere. The ice chest was refilled and as Jackie Gleason would say “and away we go!” Late that night we arrived and checked into the “Hotel Meridian” where all the receptions, get—togethers, forums and meetings were to be held. Hal, showing his radio credentials requested the hotel manager allowed us the use of a table in the longue to record interviews. Granted! We brought in the recorder and put it on the table (a booth, actually) covered it with a “do not touch” sign and headed for our room. As we left we were surprised to see Ray Price, Billy Walker and Hank Thompson having a drink. Hal said “They’ll be here tomorrow.”
Exhausted, a Port Rico/New Orleans/Memphis and now Thibodaux radioman and his two South Lafourche Cajuns went to their room, had a final beer (for that day) fell into bed, fully clothed, and thinking about tomorrow. As I fell asleep I dreamed about musical notes I saw floating about, notes I would hear live tomorrow. There was magic in the air and we were ready for it. BYE NOW!
Historical coiurnnist Leroy Martin is a grand staryteiier. In this week’s column, he talks about the time he and his pals made road trips clear around the Gulf South.
