Vintage Memories: A Sunday Veiller, 1968

Do you miss the good ole days? I do. The slow-paced, playing with your cousins, stepping in chicken poo days. Going to Mama (pronounced Mahh-mahh, like “Ahh! I’m scared”) and Papa (pronounced the same but with P’s) Aucoin’s house for Sunday dinner was what we did each week. The kids would play outside while Mama and the women cooked in the kitchen, and the men sat around and visited. Mama would often have fish cooked in her famous white gravy that no one, and I mean no one, can make like she did. The men would eat first while us kids would eat all around on the floor. Then the women would eat and clean up. It was the perfect Sunday. It was what families did, what they made time for. I’m glad I have these memories to look back on and remember. They make me smile, and I love sharing them.

Do you have a favorite tradition from your childhood? Tell us! Comment below or e-mail us at bonveillercher@gmail.com.

A Shrimp Boat in Cameron

The drive down to Cameron is different than when I was young. Now, after the hurricanes, everything has changed. But one thing the hurricane did not take away is the spirit of the shrimper and their heart and soul, the shrimp boat. One shrimp boat in particular caught my eye as we drove down the main drag on our way to the ferry.  It was run-down and rusty but so beautiful. I love that kind of stuff, and I couldn’t wait to see it through the lens of my camera.

As I was snapping pictures of it, a head popped out of the door and gave a wave, and then the door closed. I took a few more photos then noticed a very small statured older gentleman coming down the boardwalk which led from the boat to the land. He came straight up to the truck, and at first I thought he might tell us we had to leave. But all he wanted to do was visit with us. He talked about his daughter going to college in Florida; that he had been a shrimper all his life; that he was born and raised in Cameron; and that the boat I had fallen in love with was his home. I could tell he felt the same way about it that I did the first time I saw it. It started to rain more, and as he turned to walk away he told us we could come by anytime to fish off his dock.

His warmth and friendliness put us at ease as he embodied true southern hospitality. Hurricanes will come and go, but they will never destroy all the beauty and culture of Cameron or the spirit of the Cameron people. 

          

Vintage Memories: Mardi Gras 1967

Looking through old photos is a favorite pastime of ours, and it’s especially fun when there is an interesting story behind them. Vintage Memories is a series we are doing that spotlights just that kind of photo. However, we only have so many old pictures to go through, so we want y’all to share some favorites.

Pictured here is a Mardi Gras parade in Mamou, Louisiana, in 1967. Everyone is dressed in the traditional Mardi Gras garb usually only seen in rural areas. Most are handmade, brightly colored, and unique, but unlike the elaborate costumes of big city Mardi Gras parades, these outfits need to be durable and comfortable because parade participants are often riding horses and chasing chickens for the gumbo! Although it’s difficult to see here, the sign in the back is from Reed’s King Freeze. Seeing this sign sparked our interest, and our exhaustive internet search has left us empty-handed. We’d love any information on this vintage business. What type of business was it? Is it still open? Please comment or e-mail anything you might know about it.

Now that we have shared our vintage Mardi Gras, we want to see yours. Please contact us if you have a photo and story of a Mardi Gras of the past, so we can share it in an upcoming post.

Katrina & Lexi

bonveillercher@gmail.com