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February 14, 2019
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February 14, 2019
Sarah PierreIt was 1952 and the first Driver’s License Examiner in South Lafourche, yours truly, was operating out of the Golden Meadow Town Hall.
Across the street was the Town Chib” or “La Nige”. Golden Meadows favorite watering hole where I played music many tunes A religious shrine Brands there today. When I walked in some mornings the Town Hall’s one jail cell was occupied with the door open. Mar shall Bob May-et would let friends whose only crime was overindulgence sleep it off. I often furnished them cigarettes, a habit I long gave up.
I remember an episode from “La Nige”, My wife Dot had brought our four-year son Mike to hear me play and my muter kept shorting out. In frustration I banged it against the wall. Seeing this. Mike took his toy guitar and smashed it on the chair. Dot picked him up. and as they were leaving, she told me: “Hell see you play again when he’s old enough to come by himself.”‘ (Hello dog house!)
One day a stranger, who had evidently been drinking. Talked in and threw a license on the table. “I want this renewed.” lie angrily told me. “One moment sir, this is an Alabama license and there are procedures.”
He grabbed my shirt with both hands and slammed me against the wall. Police Chief Bob Mayet who was in the building heard the commotion, rushed in. grabbed my assailant And carried him to the jail cell.
Just than the Chief got a cull, locked the cell and told the prisoner, “Shut up and 111 deal with you when I get back “.
The whole building heard him rant and rare and we learned new Alabama CUSS words that day. I was happy when Chief Mayet returned, loaded him in his squad car and headed for Thibodaux. Next day he told me, “Leroy. You survived a dose one He’s got a long rap sheet in Alabama, even a possible murder charge.” My training and pay grade certainly did not include this!
One day, Mr. Whitney Reb-stock, a well-known and respected Golden Meadow citizen, limped into my office. I knew he had a wooden leg SO I pulled up a chair and he sat down and handed rue Ms expired driver a license. In Cajun French he said, “Pea Mar-ran” (little Martin), “fix me up,”
I knew his family, among whom were Linton, Morris and my classmate from the Golden Meadow graduating class of 1946. Joe.
“Mr. Whitney.” 1 said, also in French. “T m going to have to give you a test ask a few questions and take a ride with you.”
His jovial smile turned into a frown. He slowly got up and said, “Tee Mar-tan. I know your father, your grandfather and I knew your great-grand-father, and you’re going to giving me a test? You see this wooden leg? I lost it in the war (World War I) and yon are going to give me a test? Shame on you!”
Without any farther discussion I wrote out end handed him new license. He thanked me and limped out again, I was humbled and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back
Next day I want to Dick Guidry’s office and told Dick. “1 can’t do this anymore. The people who used to like me and danced to my music now want to tar and feather ms,”
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “OK. but stay until I find a replacement because we have bigger fish to fry. The Assessor just died and I might Just have a better and more prestigious job for you. Fm going to Baton Rouge to meet the Governor tomorrow and I’ll pick you up, “Dick” I asked. Is your goal in life to see that Fm gainfully employed?” “Shut up and drive” He answered Wall I thought. “After all. what are heat friends for, any way?”
My replacement Mr. Rudolph Cheramie. father of another classmate, R.J.. Jr. served a longtime Highway deaths had declined so the public eventually accepted the law He served long and successfully without tar and feathers.
BYENOWl
Comments are welcomed at leroymartin1929@gmail.com
In this week’s column, Mr. Leroy martin takes us back to the olden days in Cajun Southeastern Louisiana.
