Columns

Charles Langlinais, who over decades of public service led the transformation of the quiet village of Broussard into a dynamic city, quite often sought my opinion. Most of the time it was on some version of the question, “Have you absolutely lost your mind?”
He didn’t mince words when he disagreed with you.
Neither did I in the days when we first met. I was still young enough to be absolutely sure that the views I expressed in a regular political column were sound, well-reasoned, astute, and undeniable.

When a ship leaves its home port for a transoceanic voyage, the captain cannot see the arrival port for more than 99% of the journey. Yet, the captain has no doubt that he will be able to successfully arrive at his desired destination.
When an airline pilot takes off, he or she understands the arrival airport won’t be visible until the end of the trip. Yet, the pilot knows how to navigate to the selected destination.

A sketch that appeared in Harper’s Weekly in 1866 shows what may have been the first ferry to cross Berwick Bay between Morgan City and Berwick, or at least one very much like it.
It shows what is essentially a flatboat being rowed by two men. The passengers are an elegantly dressed woman shading herself with a parasol as she sits in a two-wheeled cart, an unmounted man holding the reins of his saddled horse, and a single man holding what looks like a fishing pole.