|
Preface
We were in grammar school during World War II. Our primary
involvement was viewing the newsreels at the movies, contributing
our old tricycles to the scrap iron drives, and listening to
stories from older brothers or uncles who actually participated.
The years after that dawned into an age of peace, promise, and
prosperity that we enjoyed. In our little corner of the world, we
lived lives where our parents worked hard and expected that we
would have a bright future. Some of us went to grammar school at
St. Anthony’s, and the others were at the public school while Mr.
Snoddy was there. We joined together in 1950 to form friendships
and share experiences that we still cherish today.
We all remember our favorite teachers. Many of them made lasting
impressions on us. We didn’t appreciate them at the time. Also, we
were often pretty mischievous, but they continued to be there for
us.
TV was very new; most of us didn’t have it. Those who had TV had
three channels, two of which were mostly snow unless Dad was
holding the antenna made out of coat hangers and aluminum foil.
Turn signals on cars were new, and no one used them because
everyone knew where you were going. Cars were left unlocked with
the keys in the ignition.
As kids we had no little leagues, soccer or football leagues, yet
we managed to play and enjoy sports with no uniforms or adult
supervision. We met at the school playground, chose sides and
PLAYED BALL.
We had no rottweilers, shih tzus, poodles or golden retrievers. We
had DOGS and they ate scraps. Our dogs never knew a leash — they
followed us to school and waited under the big oak tree until
recess.
We had no BMW's, Lexuses, or convertibles to drive to school. We
walked or rode our bikes. We hitchhiked to see our girlfriends in
Marksville, to Alexandria to go swimming, and to New Iberia to
support our contestants at the Sugar Cane Festival.
We had no Sugar Buster's diets, Atkins diets, and South Beach
diets. We ate rice and gravy, steak, and fried chicken cooked with
lard.
We had no McDonald’s, Wendy's, and Pizza Huts. We had greasy
hamburgers at Kent Court or barbeque and curly-ques at the Bamboo.
As an added bonus we could get a beer at the Bamboo if we were big
enough to reach up and put a quarter on the bar.
We had no sex education classes in Bunkie High. We learned about
the birds and the bees from a certain class member as he read from
some old sexology magazines that were somehow smuggled from Bunkie
Pharmacy (unknown to Joe Billeaud), but then we had to wait
another five or more years before we could practice what we
learned.
On Saturday nights we would meet at the Bailey Theatre and go down
the left aisle and sit about halfway down, where we always sat
together.
A big treat was going to the Blue Moon on occasion to hear live
music, where “Shake Rattle and Roll” was first played.
As we got a little older, we would venture to the Evangeline Club
in Ville Platte on Saturday night. A young musician named Fats
Domino was playing there before he moved to New Orleans.
The first BHS football team was formed when we were freshmen. In
the beginning we were blessed with unusually talented natural
athletes, in football and basketball. The tide changed in our
senior year when we had the worst record in history, but our one
accomplishment was we were the first Bunkie team to beat
Marksville, our nemesis even to this day.
After four years we went our separate ways, most leaving Bunkie.
Visits back there are often hauntingly nostalgic; both from the
amazing awareness of the time that has elapsed, and how our visits
trigger memories and cause us to feel closer than ever to that
place and our old friends. The oak tree we planted in front of
Haas Auditorium is now immense, healthy, and beautiful.
We recall J. Howard Fore reminding us weekly in the Bunkie Record
that "Bunkie is the Greatest Spot on the top of God's Green
Earth". We realize now that J. Howard Fore was right, and I know
HOW WE MADE IT THESE PAST 50 YEARS.
Our Thanks to William Billeaud for his contributions to preface.
|
