THE COLORFUL CHARACTERS OF CARVILLE

by Julia Rivera Elkwood

Part 2

THE PHILOSOPHER

If you are looking for understanding, wisdom, philosophy, good music, wit, laughter, friendliness, foolishness and fellowship, the place to go is to Matt Garcia's room. A short 5'2", who never weighed more than 110 lbs., regular build, homely Puerto Rican, Matt was nothing to look at. But he always took pride in the way he looked and appeared neat and clean. Matt's disease was diagnosed when he was nine years old and the illness had taken its toll on his feet and fingers.

In his younger days, there was a time when he was an accomplished musician who played both the guitar and the piano well. He and three others had a combo in Puerto Rico and sang for parties and over the radio. Just to look at him, no one would ever think that such a small chest was able to belt out those beautiful clear tenor notes! Now Matt had been forced to give up playing the guitar because his insensitive fingers had been shortened through repeated abuse: cuts, burns, and untreated infections. He was almost a chain smoker and repeatedly burned his hands with his cigarettes. How hard it must have been! His impatience showed when he was around a piano and he picked the ivories with the shortened digits. Very soon he would leave the scene with a heavy heart.

In the 1980's he was playing the guitar by ingeniously selecting the part of the chord which would carry the song along (This is cheating!). Yearly hootenaneys were presented by the school and we would sing along with the strum of his guitar. He never complained when we practiced because he loved every minute of it!

One of his rare attributes was that he had what is called "perfect pitch." It is a kind of phenomenon (which few people possess) in which one is able to hear notes on the musical scale and identify them. He could tune a guitar without a piano or help of any kind. Being the flat singer that I am, I know what torture it must have been for him when I sang along. And I just love to sing!

One year he sang on the program for The Star's Annual Community Christmas Party, which was the largest party held the first week of December in order to start the season off with a bang. There were magicians, dancers, other singers from Baton Rouge on the program, all volunteers who came to entertain the patients. Matt was the last performer on the program. He sang "The Impossible Dream," accompanied by the Chaplain's wife, Wanda McPherson, and when he finished he brought the house down with a standing ovation! This tiny man with a resounding voice stood there in disbelief. He always had a humorous comeback, "I couldn't tell whether they like my singing or whether they were glad the program was over!"

We became good friends after a few years of shared joys and sorrows. When he had his first corneal transplant and was able to see small details, Matt went around taking a close look at everything. He finally got around to my face, and while he was inspecting it, I asked, "Well, how good is your sight now?" He hesitated, then blurted, "It's so good I can even see all your wrinkles!"

Matt was born a ham. His wit was so sharp that he could mimic anything. An acute observer of his fellow man, he could do pantomime as well as Red Skelton. His best and my favorite was when he imitated a cow chewing its cud. He would start by asking, "Have you ever noticed how unconcerned a cow is?" and all the time he was moving his mouth making the motion of chewing cud. A jet goes past her with such thunderous sound, enough to wake anyone from a deep sleep, but the cow chews her cud." (More actions with jaw chewing.) "A bolt of lightening can strike nearby," he continues, "and the cow keeps chomping." "A tornado can tear up everything in its path near the cow, lifting the barn in its way, and the cow keeps chewing." (He keeps on with wide eyes and an unconcerned look on his straight face chewing his cud!")

There was a serious side to this diminutive middle-aged man, who had the body of a little boy. For many years, he thought deeply about God and religion. His thoughts go beyond the common realm. The How and Why of things were of the utmost importance to him. He was torn between the Protestant and Catholic faiths because he did not believe some of the things the churches taught as dogma. But this searching never stopped and one is led to believe that he was searching for what some people call The Truth.

If I expected anyone to be able to choose the right partner for his wife, I expected Matt to be able to do it because he had always been square-shouldered and level-headed. He and Maria were married for three hectic years during which they endured mental suffering more than anything else. It finally came to an abrupt end after a few useless tries. What a shame! A man such as Matt was capable of so much love! He had much warmth to give - to the right person. I guess in the matters of the heart everyone is vulnerable.

This "Giant" of a man had the ability and knowledge to speak to the fun-of-the-mill man on the street (he was street smart from being on his own from such an early age) and to a great philosopher equally. He knew how to listen, and thus made many friends. Matt never met a stranger and would strike up a conversation with anyone. In sullen moments, he turned to alcohol or pot to lighten his load. His intellect was of superior quality and he was oftentimes bored with normal people and things.

He did exceptionally well with his academic knowledge of Spanish. When he worked for the Training Branch, he would do translations of articles into Spanish for distribution to Spanish-speaking countries. Sometimes he would come over to my office with a translation with which he wanted help. Matt was forever trying to do an exact translation and being the perfectionist that he was, he would tell me, "With my Spanish and English, we make one damn good translator! "

Matt worked for The Star magazine for several years as proofreader. He wore thick glasses and had to place the proof sheet very close to his eyes, but he did a great job until he became ill. When he had almost lost his battle with cancer, he had three ladies who were very close to him come to see him to tell him goodbye. They came from very different parts of the country. In his last hours, he was surrounded by people who loved him and whom he loved. What a way to go!

THE PACK RAT

One could always tell who loved to play bingo at Carville - really loved it - because they would attend not only the free bingo but the pay bingo as well. The pay bingo were usually sponsored by the Mexico Social Club and the Point Clair Lions Club on Wednesday nights in the spacious Ballroom of the Recreation Building. Lou Vicker was one of these individuals.

She would sit on one side of the Ballroom facing the bingo board which lit up the bingo numbers. As always, during the pay bingo, we would have to watch Lou because she would pay for two cards and play three. If the caller went too fast, she would yell, "Slow down!" And if after a half hour she did not win, she would move to another part of the room thinking that would change her luck.

She would carry her "lucky cards" with her in her wheelchair (defying the rules of the Recreation Department who always told patients to put the cards back in the boxes for the next bingo) and play the same cards each time because she had memorized the numbers on them. Her vision was impaired and she was getting up in age.

Lou was in a wheelchair because her feet were in bad condition (a combination of Hansen's disease and diabetes) and could not stand much walking. Besides, she was overweight. She looked like a disaster area. Where ever she would go, she took her huge purse (some say that a cockroach was found in it because she would carry food in it), keys, a handkerchief and a giant battered brown grocery bag. The bag usually contained things she had not eaten from the three meals served on that day. She would give them away or take them to her room. Every time there was a party, she would attend in order to put some goodies in her bag. The kerchief was used to tie up the loose change. With her crippled, insensitive hands, she was unable to pick up coins from her purse, so she tied them in that manner. When she bought something at the Canteen, she would hand over the handkerchief to the clerk to get the correct amount. She was a regular customer of the canteen and many of the men patients who were drinking beer would shout a compliment with sexual overtones, she would answer, "You devil, You!"

Being of black ancestry, Lou had an ample derriere that pointed out at the rear. She was a sharp lady and her eyes danced out from under the wig she wore daily. The wig was a convenience because her insensitive hands were in too bad a shape for her to try to fix her hair. Even though she tried very hard and though she may have kept clean (she never smelled offensively), Lou had an unkept look about her.

Originally from Louisiana, Lou often complained about the high price of clothing. Several times she came to the school for sewing lessons. She knew how to sew, but this was her way of getting me to help her. After I would cut the dress and pin it for her, she would ran to Occupational Therapy (where I am sure she conned someone into sewing it for her) and bring it back sewn. There was a floral quilted housecoat we made one time that she was especially fond of (no doubt she got her money's worth by wearing it frequently) and Lou never missed an opportunity to let me know. She would try to show her appreciation by offering me something from her goody bag.

Lou was a regular at the shopping sprees to Baton Rouge, sponsored by the Recreation Department, which I supervised. Oscar Concepcion, Recreation Therapist, and Sister Gabriella Richard, volunteer, and I would go, along with a few other able-bodied persons, to help with the handicapped patients. Lou insisted I help her most of the time and since everyone shield away from her, I invariably agreed to help. Many times she was aggressive and rude to the cashiers, always complaining about prices and offering them less than the price of the item. But nothing embarrassed me more than when we were in one of the high-classed department stores and Lou found a skirt she liked on sale. She asked the sales lady if she could try it on. "Of course," the lady responded, motioning to the dressing rooms. Lou paid no attention and proceeded to raise her skirt in the store and slipped the other one on feet first. I pleaded with her to go to the dressing room, but it was too late. Unconcerned, with her arms still holding up the skirt she wore, she said "I'll take it!"

She was a person who loved Mardi Gras and we would always dress her up. In her wheelchair float, she would dance and move to the Mardi Gras music. In her younger days she used to be a swinger, great dancer and enjoyed the second line as well as the next person. Her devoted grandson would visit often to watch her participate.

Lou was a feisty sort of person and many times her neighbors reported her rudeness and noisy arguments to the administration. She had a boyfriend she fussed at all the time, but the fact that they kept company for so many years indicated to me that she must have had her tender and emotional moments, too.

THE MISFIT

Lula was a sight to see. Always wore her black short, pinned back with a couple of bobby pins. It showed her prominent nose and huge crossed eyes. She was overweight and all her extra pounds seemed to be concentrated in her belly. Always bragging about what a great cook she was, one would think that she sampled everything while cooking it.

She came from a French family from "down the bayou a ways" and was a very friendly person. She was the first to go visit new patients and offered to do things for them. Lula married a handicapped and blind patient who was a well-read and intelligent fellow. His hobby was operating a ham radio and all his life Jude had helped those he could. Many times he helped aliens who wanted to become a citizen practice the answers which would be asked in an immigration interview.

Those who had the dubious honor of visiting her house, usually at her insistence, stated she was not the best housekeeper they had seen. Many of them would not eat her food after looking at her kitchen. Once we had a special event called International Night. Everyone made a dish from a different country and those who attended received a treat when they served themselves dishes from many other nations. She missed cooking for us that night and she said to let her know ahead of time for the next event and she would make a dish. Lula had a real sense of sharing whatever she had.

Lula seemed to enjoy going to funerals. She would pester the medical records staff to let her know when someone died. Then she would go to sit for hours by the body. It was good that she wanted to be at the side of the bereaved family. Many times I went to pay my last respects only to find the corpse alone in the Reception Room of the Union Protestant Chapel.

Lula claimed to be a sort of nurse. In my opinion, she mixed up nursing with a very strong motherly instinct that she had. Jude became very ill once and she claimed to have saved his life. He had a heart attack, and her quickness in wheeling him to the hospital saved his life.

Every Thursday she would amble into the school in House 30 to get a couple of Q. M.'s (Question Mark a weekly activity news bulletin published for the patients). It was the weekly news and announcements that she looked forward to reading. This ritual persisted until she died at Carville. I never really found out what her reading level was because she never attended class, but the checkouts at the school library for Lula were all fairy tales. She loved them and sometimes checked out the same book over and over. Her mind was simple, but she always paid a compliment when she thought it was appropriate.

She had the custom of getting very close to you when she spoke. I never figured out whether it was because of her sight or because she wanted to whisper. Lula would hold your arm when she spoke to you so you would not get away. She managed always to say something positive and I really think that is how she won me over.

At first I did not want to go near her because her hygiene was not the best. One day, before the lobby of the Recreation Building was air-conditioned, several of us were sitting in chairs by the window waiting for the driver to pick us up and enjoying the breeze from outside. Lula came to talk to us and stood between us and the window! Because of her incontinence, everyone started making excuses to leave.

She surprised everyone when she played her three octave portable organ in public. Because of everyone's belief, they applauded vigorously to know she could play a complete tune. She began playing at the chapel and at special school parties. I admire her spirit because she taught herself to play the organ well enough so that those listening could actually recognize the tune.

She was always coming to me to borrow $5.00 until payday. She had a three-hour job, but always spent more than she made. Smoking was one of her favorite past-times. Later I found out that she was not only borrowing from me, but from many other people. Of course, the "loan" was never paid.