THE COLORFUL CHARACTERS OF CARVILLE

by Julia Rivera Elkwood

Part 3

LADY AMELIA

Lady Amelia was a short, stout, matronly woman with white hair. The front of her hair had a tinge of yellow from the cigarettes she used to puff one after another. She was so short that one never knew whether she was sitting or standing because she was the same size either way.

Her days were spent reading or doing crossword puzzles, to which she was insatiably addicted. Since she had such a proper manner and there was a regal air about her, Stanley Stein used to call her "Lady Amelia".

I have always wondered how an educated and cultured lady such as she ever married her husband, Larry. He as a rough Texan, tall, slender, with a gruff voice, who cursed every time he spoke, and when he was not talking, he was puffing on a cigarette. They both had been married before and met after they were patients at Carville, both in their fifties. He was always telling Texas jokes and she would answer with a cackle, even if she had heard it before. She would sometimes coax him, in her deep voice, to tell "the one about the rattlesnake." From all indications, they were a happily married couple, and even though to some they were not likely partners, they seemed to get along famously.

One Christmas, Lady Amelia invited us to her cottage in the back of the hospital- a section called White City (because all the houses were white). She must have been of English extraction because she served us some wassail and plum pudding. The pudding was served flaming when they lit the rum poured on top. She was a great cook and judging by her size, she ate everything she made.

A teacher by profession, she did her part with The Star by proofreading every page. Sometimes Stanley and she would get into arguments about the use of a word and neither would give in. Stanley had a fabulous vocabulary, though, and had a knack for using the right word.

Lady Amelia was proud of her son, an Episcopalian minister, who came to visit from time to time. He thought she was a wonderful mother and never missed an opportunity to say so. She was in her nineties when she passed away-a real lady who had lived a rich, full life and was not afraid of death.

THE ANGEL

Hope was a great name for anyone to give to one of God's children. Many years ago Hope came to Carville from Texas, a scared, lovely diminutive young lady of 15. Because she came before there were effective drugs for Hansen's disease, her illness became advanced and left many scars on her physical body.

After the sulfone were introduced, and she was rendered inactive, though intensely disfigured, she spoke warmly of her beloved Dr. Daniel Riordan, orthopedic surgeon, who operated on her feet to straighten them (they were clubbed) and who performed surgery on her paralyzed fingers one by one to make them more functional. In the 1970's, her spirit undaunted after so much surgery, she was ready to go to work as interpreter for the Spanish-speaking patients who needed help when they visited the doctor. We celebrated when she had worked enough quarters ( seven years) to receive Social Security, an accomplishment that made her so proud.

This little lady who weighed only 90 pounds made a big mark for herself in the community. Hope's wonderful spirit permitted her to work for the Point Clair Lion's Club selling many of the raffle tickets each year for the Annual Lion's Club Fair. She never missed a bingo, birthday party, shopping spree or outing which the Recreation Department sponsored. Mardi Gras was not complete without her float and one year she even served as Grand Marshal.

It must have been this marvelous spirit which captured LSU's basketball coach Dale Brown's heart! She became one of his favorite people after he met her in 1982 when the LSU basketball team visited Carville. He stayed in touch with her and invited her to his house. I took her and she poohed and aaahed as she was wheeled from one room to another. The thing she could not get over is that Coach Brown had a chandelier in his bathroom! In December of 1985 Brown called me to ask Hope what she wanted for Christmas, "a television, radio, jam box, a recliner, etc. " When I told her that coach Brown was coming to visit her and he wanted to know what to bring her, she answered, "Homemade cookies and hard candy." Coach's answer to me was, "She doesn't ask for much! "

Faith played a big part in Hope's life. For over 40 years, the Sacred Heart Chapel was her second home and Mass would never start without her. She stated that it was her faith that pulled her through the rough and lonely times. Once Hope relayed a sad story. She was crushed when she asked one of the patients to drive her to town and he refused. Between sobs, she said, "He just doesn't want to be seen with me the way I look."

Hope may not have been a Miss America on the outside, but her soul and spirit were shaped like a beautiful diamond and she shined brightly and purely. She was my friend, I loved her, and I miss her. I know she is finally happy in heaven with her perfect body without scars or deformities.

THE POLITICIAN

His shoulders were always too big for his six foot frame and so he had to go to an exclusive men's shop in Baton Rouge to be fitted for his suits. His belief was that "clothes make the man" and he always dressed well.

David came from an established French family in the heart of Cajun country. It was important that no scandal was linked to his family, so he took an alias, as did many others who were sent to Carville. At one time, taking aliases was so common a practice that when your chart was being filled out, one of the questions asked by the admissions office was, "what alias do you want to take?" The majority of the patients at Carville took aliases before the 1950's. After that there were few patients who wanted to change their names. By the 1990's, patients who had aliases reverted to their real names. In 1999, there was only one patient with an alias.

In 1939 the young, handsome David married a lovely diminutive young lady from Texas, who was of Mexican descent, but you would never know it from looking at her. She was fair-skinned and spoke English well. She adored him, and because he was the sicker of the two, she would do most things for him. Mona took great pride in her wifely duties and never complained.

In his younger days, David was a leader in the Carville community. Although he had a passion for gambling, he found time to do some meaningful things and became used to being in the thick of the action. Many times he served as president and officer of the Point Clair Lions Club, which at the time had much political pull. Since the Lions Club is a service organization, the patients benefitted from the parties and dances that they sponsored, in addition to giving a stipend to indigent patients. Besides that, the Lions Club members from Baton Rouge and other surrounding cities (some of whom were influential people) came to visit Carville and became friends to the patients.

David also served for many years on the Executive Board of the Patients Federation, at times as the chairman. The Federation is an organization to which all the patients belong and which acts as a liaison with the administration. They sponsored the Semi-Annual Invitational Golf Tournaments that were contests between patient and other golfers in the community. This event served to make many varied and influential friends for Carville. Serving as postmaster for the branch post office fo over 40 years, David was intelligent and had great communication skills. He became one of the firs public relations persons for the hospital. As post-

man, David and Chester Carville (James Carville's dad) evolved into best friends because Carville was the postmaster for the Carville (LA) post office. The postman's job was not a easy one. There were many of the patients who did not read or write, so David would fill out money orders for them and sometimes write letters for them. In times of trouble, the Carville patients called on their influential friends. Together with Stanley Stein and other leaders, David was instrumental in writing and getting a petition signed to oust the director of the hospital in 1956. With the aid of Congressman Otto Passman, the patients sent the petition to Washington, DC, and Dr. Eddie Gordon was soon transferred. Among other complaints, patients said he was running the hospital like a prison and preventing the employees from interacting with patients.

The Sacred Heart Chapel heard the voice of David every Sunday at the 8:45 a.m. mass as he served as lector. His wife Mona sang a beautiful alto in the Sacred Heart Choir.

He made history when he became the first patient ever to be asked to become a member of the Iberville Bank Board of Directors in St. Gabriel The bank decided that since the patients did so much business with the bank, they should have a representative (and who would know more about the hospital and its people than David who had spent over 55 years there). The Iberville Bank would send one of their cashiers to the Center to do banking business for the patients (and sometimes the staff would take advantage of the service too) every Tuesday morning.

In the late 1990's David died after a long illness, with his loving Mona at his side. She took over his duties in the post office and also works in the museum at the Center. He is buried in the cemetery next to "white city" where they lived in one of the patient cottages for over 40 years. He left his mark on the center never to be forgotten.

THE CAN MAN

Now one seemed to know his age, but everyone recognized the unkempt man who went around looking for aluminum cans. A Puerto Rican old man, Jose came from a poor family. He had known hard work in his early days, but never learned habits of cleanliness.

Every day, Jose would dig in all the trash cans for those precious aluminum cans. He did not really need the money from the cans. At the bank he had a good sized savings account. Besides a four-hour sheltered workshop-type job at the Center, he was old enough to receive a social security check, so he had more than sufficient money.

Some people believed that he just wanted something to do, but he upset patients as well as staff when he left the trash all over the ground when he dug in it for the cans. Many times the Housekeeping Department would really get angry because he did not stop at that, he would put all the cans into his room until he had no space in it to walk. Then it was time to take the cans to sell them.

He was a sight to see. Jose had short, curly gray hair. Every day he would mount his tree-wheel bike to go on his rounds. Never ironed and seldom clean, his layered clothes made him look larger than he actually was. Once, I offered to buy him a new sweater if he would give up the dirty green one he had been wearing all winter, secured in front with a big safety pin. He told me he would accept the new sweater, but would not give up his old one.

Jose was not fond of baths and the front of his shirts were always decorated with coffee stains. As if he needed a nasty smelling habit, he was a heavy smoker and smelled cigarette which was very offensive.

The Nursing Department tried to place him in the geriatrics unit and failed. Besides refusing to bathe, Jose would not change clothes for three or four days. His room was dirty and he almost burned his room down when he built a fire in the sink to warm up a can of soup! The last straw was when he chose a back corner of the main hall as his favorite spot to spit.

As he became older, Jose, who was lovingly called "little father" by his friends, had trouble with his legs, so he obtained a golf cart to take him to the far corners of the facility. Rumor had it that he even ventured out to the highway from time to time. This very independent, very stubborn man is now doing things his way in heaven, and those who try to change him have an impossible task before them.