To make a long story short, my intentions were good when I began an annual ceremony to honor women in 2002-03. That lasted for two years. It was titled Cajun Lady Musician’s (moi) “Wall of Fame.” It was not only musicians who became wall members, but outstanding women who were leaders among us also deserved recognition. Every now and then I pull out the box of pictures and bios of the women who shared that honor. Not all accepted my invitation, but it was worthwhile were those who did. All together, I have about 20. I wanted to do something special for them no one else would do.
I regret I could not continue my goal. One of the reasons, it became too costly for me. I also chose to honor someone out of the women’s circle. My first year, I honored Henderson’s legendary musician Dunice Theriot. I have June Borel, Mama Redelle, Sydnie Mae Durand, Becky Richard, Rita LeJeune, to name a few. Our gratitude to Herman Fusilier, journalist for The Advertiser, for his support.
Clint Robin and friends planned a going-back-to-nature camping trip, gathered sleeping bags, supplies, barbecue pit, food, loaded their boat and headed out. Destined to have fun, the gang set out looking for a good bayou site south of Henderson well known for fishing and hunting. They found an awesome site by Catahoula, seemed like a perfect spot, tall trees and flat ground. They’d made plans to tell great stories about their past by the campfire upon settling in. Things were looking good for their first big night. By night, having settled in they decided to go frogging, loaded the boat and headed out to catch their supper.
Belle affaire! As they went deeper into the woods, the eerie night sounds were creepier. Sounds of giant bullfrogs echoed in the distance, serpents dan les arbres, and things shaped up for a daring hunt. The first boat went under a big tree then some action began. A large snake fell into the boat causing a scramble. Big Slim and Ray, two of the leading frog giggers, jumped in the water leaving the lone boat captain to deal with the snake.
Turned out to be a water snake, the two fearless giggers got wet for nothing. No frogs were caught because they had to go back to camp to dry off.
The sound of the frogs and the coyotes were very loud which gave for a bone chilling night.
They finally settled down, got the fire going, lit up the barbecue pit. You know fisherman and hunters tell big stories, so there were some pretty big and interesting tales told that night.
With so much excitement, no one was paying much attention to what was happening around them, making the night a little mysterious. The fire must have attracted the crawfish, causing them to come out their holes and charge towards the campsite. The campers hadn’t yet noticed because they were too busy telling tales about their great adventures.
As the campers settled into their sleeping bags, the fire dying down, little did they know they were surrounded by giant crawfish wanting to reclaim their territory. As the campers were about to fall asleep, the crawfish moved in for war, attacking them without warning. The giant crawfish, once inside the sleeping bags begin pinching with their claws causing shocking pain and turmoil. They scrambled for headlights and realized they weren’t dreaming, les ecreuvisse tes partout. They had to gather their gear and move on, it took all night. Crawfish ruled?
Winn Dixie has du gru jaune, takes longer to cook, makes better couche-couche.
Parle Français au enfants. Amétie, Cousine Hélène.