Been Gone A While.

I don't know what happened, I just lost my spark for a while. Too many hot irons in the fire and no gloves to use to pull them out I guess. There has been water flowing under my bridge and most of it is muddy. Looks like rapids coming up too.

On a somewhat brighter side, I've become a "writer". I write for a local weekly paper. I will not have to worry about jumping up a tax bracket. But that's allright I'm not in it for the money, it's what I like to do.

Last Friday I covered a bull riding at a local night club. The club has an indoor arena, a la Billy Bob's, in the back and they buck a dozen or so bulls every two weeks. The rodeo director/announcer is a friend of mine and he invites me over from time to time. It is a good place to go and kill a little time. I also know the stock producer from my days in rodeo. Last week there were 12 riders. The final score was bulls 10, bull riders two. After the bull riding there was an entainer, David Allen Coe.

Coe came onto the stage and I could not believe what I was seeing. The big outlaw has toaded out. His chest has dropped almost to his knees. His hair is long, way past his butt. What used to be a beard is now two thin braids coming off of each corner of his chin. The things are tightly braided and have beads about every six inches. The braids hang past his waist. He was wearing a black outfit that made him look like he was in a black sack. He was not the DAC of the past.

He still sounds good, is still as profane as ever and is still able to whip the crowd into a frenzy. I have no opinion as to whether or not he was worth the $25.00 cover charge. I got in free as a "member of the press", so it was moot for me.

The volume was blaring, terribly so. The crowd loved every minute of the show. I guess all is not lost for this generation if they still like old outlaws.

Yesterday I Met A Hero

There a few heroes remaining in my hometown and yesterday I met one of them. His name is Leonard Richardson. He was a Medic with the 28th Infantry Division in World War II. The nickname of the 28th was the "Keystone Division". Their divisonal patch was red keystone, Mr. Richardson calls it "the bloody keystone."


The division went ashore on Utah Beach, Normandy, June 6, 1944. That is the date known in history as "D Day". For the next 285 days they were in combat. From the Normandy beaches to the Ardennes Forest to the Battle of the Bulge. They were assigned to the Third Army under Gen. George S. Patton. Mr. Richardson says, "it was hard, we had to keep pushing and pushing forward to keep the Germans from having time to regroup and move back on us." He related a close call when they came under fire from a German sniper. He and three other medics were carrying an injured man on a stretcher and two of the men were killed by the sniper. One of the men was across from Mr. Richardson and one was behind him. He had known both men since their training days.


One day soon when there is more time I'm going back for a visit and listen to a few more stories. Statistaclly World War II veterans are passing on at a rate of more than one thousand per day. Most of the men and women from that conflict are in their 80's. Their time is getting short. As of this date there are only two U S veterans of World War I still alive and they aare both well over one hundred years old.


If you read this and know a veteran from any branch of the military from any type of service. Talk to them, tell them "thank you" and listen to their stories. You will be glad you did.

Yogi Bear, no not that one!

We had been dogless for a few years after Sophie went away. She was a good dog, the best I had ever owned. I suppose that she knew it was time to go and she went away, just disappeared without a trace one day and no amount of searching did any good. She was gone.

For a long time I just put it all in the back of my mind about Sophie, but I always missed having a dog. One day my wife and I started discussing the possibility of another dog. Not to replace Sophie, that is impossible, just to find another dog. I believe in rescuing dogs when possible so I started the search by going to the website of the Southeast Texas Humane Society in Beaumont, Texas. The shelter is only about a thirty minute from my home and I had adopted two dogs from there in my "past." I was looking for a small dog for a good house pet, companion and all that goes with dog ownership. While going through the postings I saw a big black and brown dog with the most wonderful eyes. He was listed as a Chow-German Shepherd cross breed. His name was Yogi Bear. I read his description and passed on to other dogs.

One day my wife and I made a trip to the shelter to look at some of the dogs I had seen online. We had decided to adopt a dog and make it a gift to our granddaughter. We were looking at a small dog that was of indeterminable breed, but very cute when all of a sudden my wife cried, "Mike come look at this one." I went over to the kennel and I said, "that's Yogi Bear." He had come to the gate of his kennel and was giving my wife the look I had seen in his picture. She said, "look at his eyes." It was the same look that I had seen online. His description said that he was a big happy go lucky fellow. We asked to take him out to one of the runs and they brought him out for us. In the run we found that everything that had been written about him was true. He had a great personality. We told the workers that we would consider Yogi but we would like to bring our grand daughter over and see how the two got along. That afternoon we picked Brooke, our grand daughter up after school and drove to the shelter. When she saw Yogi she was a little surprised at his size and hung back for a moment. It did not take long for her to fall in love with him. To make along story short, he was neutered, an adoption requirement, brought home, treated for heartworms which he had. His background was that he had been brought to the shelter as a stray with a collar that was so tight it had cut into his neck. The wound was mostly healed. The workers at the shelter told us that we had adopted Yogi Bear only days away from them having to put him down. They had kept him over the time limit because he was such a good dog and they wanted to take extra time in the hope that he would be adopted. Our vet, Dr. Dunn says that Yogi is part Rottweiller,not German Shepherd. He has the stocky body of a Rottweiller and the Chow is visible also, he has two black spots on the end of his tongue. His coloring is black, bown and a touch of red. Yogi is a handsome dog. We often get comments about his looks when we have him out and the staff at Dr. Dunn's office love him for his looks and personality.

Small dogs often do not realize how small they are amd will bark and attack larger dogs. Yogi Bear does not realize how big he is. His weight is in the 70 pound range and his strength is enormous. He does not realize how strong he is, if he decides to go it is all we can do to hold him back. He is heavy and he will sit on your feet or legs and it is like a stone is on you. He sheds terribly, he has to be brushed and the carpet has to be vacuumed often. Yogi Bear was not designed to be a house dog, but he is.

Yogi Bear is love in a dog suit. He will look at you with big brown eyes and you can read "I love you, please love me" in those eyes. Yogi will come to me and stay as long as I want to pet him or keep a hand on him, he loves to be touched. He will often sit between my legs when I am in my chair and lean against me and drop his head and push it into my legs, almost like a cat. Yogi loves us and we cannot do anything except love him back. He is as smart as he wants to be too. Yogi is a conniver. He can sit like a showdog when knows there is a treat available. Other times he acts like he has never heard the command "sit." He will often lay in places that put him in our way and remain like roadkill as we try to step over his bulk. Often we do not know what to do with him and we never know what we would do without him. He can be deadpan comical and he is so clumsly when he goes after a bouncing ball that we cannot help laughing at him.

Yogi comes to life when Brooke comes home from school, he loves her with all his heart and she loves him back and it is great to see them together. They weigh about the same but Brooke can control Yogi because he loves her and lets her. When he hears Brooke's mother drive in after work, he lies at the door looking and waiting for her to open it. He loves her too. When he hears his leash rattle,he gets excited, he loves to go outside. He could be a monster except he is too full of love.

At one point in Yogi Bear's life he was a throw away, he was nearly put down, the only reason being that the shelter was out of room and he was out of time. Someone else may have come along and seen him and taken him home, but I am thankful it was us. I believe that one day when it comes time for all of us to go that we will all cross the Rainbow Bridge and be united once more. Yogi bear will be at the head of the pack.

The Place to be was Zack's

Casablanca had Rick's Cafe as the place to be. My hometown, Orange, Texas had Zack's. Zack's was a drive in on MacArthur Drive the main way into Orange from the west. MacArthur Drive turned into Green Avenue going through downtown Orange. Green Avenue ended at Simmons Drive where you turned left on to Simmons to go to the highway, Interstate 10, to Louisiana across the Sabine River. All this becomes important to the story later so feel free to take notes.

Zack's was owned by Zack Jacobs and was his second location. His first was a walk-up hamburger stand in town. Zack's on MacArthur was THE place for teens to go in the 1960's. It was located on the corner of a street on its' east side and MacArthur on the north side. The building was situated back so as to allow one row of cars to park facing the building with enough room to drive around them and then there were two rows facing the building off of the highway. On each side of the building was head in parking with the drive completely around the building. It was the place to go on the weekends and during the week if you could get the car and get out.

I suppose that every teenager in Orange in those days went to Zack's. Some went often, some only occasionally. The teens from the smaller towns surrounding Orange came into town and went to Zack's. There were even some from Port Arthur, the larger town to the west that came to Zack's.

The routine was basically the same for everyone so I will use myself as an example. I had a steady girlfriend in high school. I would drive to her house for our date and then we would go to Zack's to see who else was there. She went to school in Orange, I went to school in West Orange so we always knew someone from either school or both schools when we made the circle. If it was a night when we went to a movie at the Strand theater in Orange I would pick her up early enough to at least circle Zack's or if we had time, drink a Coke. After the movie we would go back to Zack's and see who was to be seen and drink a Coke. When we had been there a while we would drive out of Zack's and head east into town. We would go through Orange, turn onto Simmons Drive and go to the u-turn at Elmer's Drive In. Elmer's would only get a glance, we never went there. We would retrace our route through town and go past Zack's heading west. There was a traffic circle at the end of MacArthur where three routes merged. A loop around the circle would put us back on MacArthur heading east again. Drake's Drive in was on this end of the route. We would drive around Drake's. It was similar to Zack's, just not a big and only one row of cars on each side. If we saw anyone there we wanted to visit with we may stay a while, if not it was back on the road to Zack's. Next to Zack's was Jim's Drive In. Jim's only got a looksee because it did not have a drive around only a row of cars on either side, you had to head in to park and back out to go out the way you came in.

Some kids would drive around Zack's for a long time. I never knew what the record was but it had to be a lot. The premium spots to park were those facing the drive around on the front side on the front row. Parked there you could see everyone going around facing them. On the sides you might have to twist around a little to talk to someone going around. It was a beehive of social activity.

In August after my graduation from high school my girlfriend's dad got transferred to Kansas City, Kansas. I still went to Zack's but obviously it was not as much fun. I went to college in September to Nacogdoches, Texas. When I came home on weekends I would go to Zack's on Friday night to see who was out and about. Same routine, drive through Orange to see who else was driving, turn around at Elmer's, back to the circle, loop the circle drive around Drake's and go back to Zack's.

Those of us who were so inclined were able to go "across the river." On the Louisiana side of the Sabine River was a strip of nightclubs. The legal age to drink in Louisiana was 18, Texas was 21. Most of the clubs turned a blind eye if you looked old enough. A club called the Big Oak was the most popular and the biggest of the clubs in those days. I would go over there alone or with a friend if I found someone at Zack's that wanted to go. After I got my fill across the river I would go back to Zack's and maybe have a coffee this time and go home. One weekend I was home from college and met a girl at Zack's that I knew from Orange. She was in her dad's car, a black Pontiac Grand Prix, a fine set of wheels. I parked across the side street and came back and sat in her car and we talked a while. Then with her driving, we went through the routine and came back to Zack's I asked her out the next night and she accepted. I picked her up the next night and we went to Zack's first and you know the rest. After I took her home I went back to Zack's to see who was still around and went home. We dated whenever we were both going home at the same time and we had a good time being together. But somehow we drifted apart.

I ended up marrying someone who did not share my affection for Zack's. We moved to Marshall in East Texas and when we came home to visit family we did not go to Zack's. My days were over. Sometime in the early 1970's Mr. Jacobs decided that the business was no longer profitable and he closed the drive in. Society had changed and the kids were no longer coming as they had been for years. The building sat vacant for a while and then it was torn down. On the site now is a Payless Shoe Store.

The Birthday Party

Yesterday I had the good fortune to attend a birthday party. Not just any birthday party, it was a birthday party for Curley Courville. Curley was turning 87 and his friends Tony and Karen Fuselier threw the bash. In attendance were Jesse Domingue and Andrew Cormier,both long-time Cajun/Country musicians in the Southeast Texas area. Jesse did not bring his guitar,but Andrew brought both of his "squeeze boxes." Cajun acordions for those of you that aren't familiar with "squeeze boxes."



Before Curley arrived, Jesse and Andrew entertained us with stories of the old days, the 50's and 60's music scene in our part of the world. They played the old Yvonne's Club in Beaumont when it was a popular place to go dance. Yvonne's even had dances on Sunday afternoon that were televised locally. Andrew played the club when it was the Blue Jean Club, that's going back. The Rodair Club on the highway out of Port Acres was a Cajun place. The music was mostly Cajun with Swamp Pop and a little country. Jesse and Andrew played there and the Music Box across the highway. The Sparkle Paradise in Bridge City was a place that was always crowded and was known for good music. They both had stories about those clubs and more. There were stories about the people that ran the clubs, the other musicians and of course each other.



Jesse told a story about he and Andrew writing a song one night after playing several hours and drinking a lot. Jesse said, "it was a damn good song, but the next day neither one of us could remember it." They talked and laughed and we listened and laughed and all the while Andrew was making music on the squeeze box. Tony kept trying to push food and drink on everyone. People were coming in and the party was getting ready to start.



Curley showed up, still spry at 87. He is a very nice man, retired from a refinery since 1981, he's spent a lot of time fishing and hunting, took vacations to Hawaii every two years "for a long time" after he retired. He was very pleased with the show of affection for him and was enjoying all the stories too. Jesse told how they hung the nickname "Flat Tire" on Curley. Jesse was the manager of an auto supply store and Curley came in and bought three tires. Jesse asked him why he bought only three and Culey told him that he bought one tire from Sears and only needed three. Sometime later Jesse was playing at a club, he didn't say where, and someone told him that Curley was on the phone, was in Florida on vacation and had a flat tire and wanted to know if Jesse could help him get an adjustment on it. "I went flying off the bandstand and went flying to the phone to give Curley hell and when I grabbed the phone there was nobody there, I'd been set up by Curley." Jesse said. Jesse started calling Curley "Flat Tire" and the name has been with him ever sense.



There was more food than the crowd could ever eat and a huge birthday cake and lots of drinks. It was a great party for Curley and everyone there. I asked Tony why he was giving the party and he looked me square in the eye and said, "because he's my friend." these are good people and good friends to each other and it was easy to see how much they truly cared for one another.



Tony told me later that "you treat good people good", that's a wonderful way to live and it shows why Tony and Karen have been succesful with their furniture business also.



Why was I there? I was asked to cover the party for the local newspaper that I write for and the staff photographer was there to take photos for the paper. These friends have a lot of firends.