PURPLE CLOVERS AND CORN BOILS
Back around the beginning of the
1960's, Daddy decided that the farm on Jackson Street was getting
too crowded and bought one hundred something acres out on highway 71
near LSU-A. We moved the animals there and commuted from our house
on Jackson Street to the farm daily. By
1963, the year I went off to college, the family moved. I love
telling people that when I went off to college my family moved from
the place where I grew up and left no forwarding address. Thankfully
they really did let me know. This farm is where all the Shetland
pony business took place and where I spent summers painting fences.
The house was originally close to the highway but was later torn down. They moved to a house further down the pasture lane that we once
rented to a professor at the college. The shed for the cars was kept, however, and
became The Old Gray Mule vegetable stand. Lots of traffic began to
pass. Daddy held fort in this shed, chewing his tobacco, wearing old
worn out jeans and tobacco stained shirts. He played the part of the
sharecropper's son well when he wasn't in Baton Rouge. At the front
of the vegetable stand Daddy kept a jar, with a sign, saying, “Get
what you want and put your money in the jar” for people to pay in
case he wasn't there when they came to shop. Politicians stopped by
on their way back and forth to Baton Rouge. (This was before the
Interstate 49 was built.) That vegetable stand became a place to
kick back, sit on a hay bale, visit and talk politics. I remember on
several occasions Daddy might be further back on the farm on his
tractor and people would stop by to see “the senator” for help.
If he wasn't at the stand, then they stopped by the house. Mama
would just smile and tell them to head back down the pasture lane and
they would find him. I watched as they would slow down when they got
near the area, look around and not seeing “the man” would walk
out to the tractor and ask the hired hand plowing, “I'm looking for
senator Blair,” they would say and Daddy, if he didn't want to be
bothered would reply, tobacco streaming down his chin, “No, sir, I
ain't seen the senator today,” and keep plowing. I always thought
this so funny. They never recognized him. I'm sure they were
expecting some plantation owner type supervising the hired help in a
nice truck or something. We always got a good laugh out of that.
So Daddy grew sweet corn and started a
menagerie of animals like white tail dear, geese, goats, a donkey and
a Llama. The donkey was gray and Daddy claimed that was the
inspiration behind the old gray mule name. But we all knew
different. The corn was delicious. We ate more than our share all
summer long. People came from miles around for this sweet corn.
At
the end of the season, Daddy held his famous corn boils.
All his
friends were invited.
Preachers, priests, rabbis, politicians,farm
hands, church members and raconteurs like Daddy all mingled under the
stars sitting on hay bales enjoying lively conversation, fresh boiled
corn, brisket and whatever was brought.
Dr. Larry Taylor, Bishop Greco and Rabbi Hinchin at a Corn Boil
It was a regular pot luck
dinner. Laughter was everywhere. Children were playing in the
nearby barn on the hay bales, sometimes a Shetland pony was hitched
to a wagon for the kids to enjoy. Men gathered in a corner talking
politics and women bustled over the plates of food making sure
everyone was fed.
If the crowd got too rowdy, or too much drink was
consumed, Mama sent them home.
During this time, Lyndon B. Johnson was
President of the United States from 1963 to 1969. Lady Bird began
her highway beautification project not long after they moved in.
At first millions of flowers were planted in and around Washington,
D.C. for the enjoyment of tourists and residents. In October of
1965 the Highway Beautification Act was signed by the President. It
was nicknamed the Lady Bird bill. Several states began some highway
beautification programs. My daddy took notice. He was in the state
senate from 1960-1964 and again from 1966-1976. He never pursued any
legislation, that I am aware of, concerning highway beautification,
but he paid attention to what Lady Bird was doing.
In 1975 Daddy lost his re-election bid
to the Louisiana State Senate and decided that after eighteen years
serving in both the house and senate, that he would retire and return
to his roots of farming. Daddy still maintained his Entomology
business through the Blair Pest Control and checked in on that
periodically. His raising and showing Shetland Ponies was slowly
being fazed out. Farming was his true love. He paid more attention
to the grass growing on the highway now. It was tall and seldom
mowed by the highway department.
If you have ever driven down Hwy. 71,
South then I am sure you have noticed the beautiful wildflowers that
line the highway toward LSU-A. My father is the one responsible for
that. Daddy ordered wildflower and red clover seed and like Johnny
Appleseed set about planting wildflowers from the overpass near
Alexandria all the way toward Lecompte.
People came from everywhere
to admire this beautiful highway. The newspaper ran a wonderful
article about the senator and his wildflowers.
The highway was beautiful until the
highway department decided that they needed to mow them down. It was
their job to maintain the grass along the highway they said. “This
was public land,” they said, “You can't be planting flowers on
public land.” They started up their mowers. Daddy stopped them by
having a sit in. He sat in a chair, surrounded by hay bales, on the
property directly in front of the farm refusing to let them mow. The
head of the department for the parish came to visit. There were
words. They threatened to sue. Daddy went to Baton Rouge and talked
with the Governor and the head of the Highway Department. They,
eventually, let him keep his flowers and the mowers moved on. All
this caught the attention of Lady Bird Johnson and she sent a nice
hand written letter thanking him for his beautification interest. He
had it framed for a while along with a signed certificate by the
president.
Daddy planted more seed. The flowers
bloomed. However, the thistles were a great nuisance as well as the
Johnson grass. His solution? He would take his hoe and clean the
weeds. Daddy had someone drop him off near Lecompte and then leave
his truck on the side of the road half way back home while he worked
his way down the highway getting rid of the weeds. So here was the
old gray mule, himself, in the middle of the highway, a bottle of
water in his pocket, his hoe in hand, wearing his old faded out
jeans, tobacco stained shirt and a straw hat that had seen better
days, working his way back to his truck.
On one occasion he stopped to rest on a
culvert, wiping the sweat off his brow. A car passed by and slowed
down, the driver and his wife staring out the window. A few minutes
later the same car passed again going even slower. On the third
pass the driver stopped. Rolling down his window the man asked,
“Sir, are you O.K.?” Daddy nodded and sat there ignoring the
nonsense, eating his sandwich. “Sir, can we give you a ride
somewhere?” Daddy kept eating. Finally after a long silence, the
man said, “Do you know where you are?” Daddy said, “Yea. I'm
sitting here on this culvert, stopping to rest so I can eat my
sandwich in peace before I start hoeing again getting rid of the
weeds in my flower beds.” The couple was concerned and got out of
the car, cautiously, walked up to daddy, the woman clinging tightly
to her husbands arms. Daddy looked like he had been homeless for
quite a while and not to friendly so the couple kept their distance.
Finally the man said, “Sir, do your children know where you are?”
Daddy stood up using the hoe for balance and let that man know, in no
uncertain terms, exactly who he was and what he was doing and that he
had a right to hoe the weeds on the roadway if he wanted to. He held
up the hoe and said, “Now go.” The couple backed to their car,
embarrassed, making a hasty retreat. Good ole' Cecil. You can't
keep a good man down.
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