FELICITE

In my book of young adult fiction, FLOOD ON THE RIO TECHE, I acknowledge Felicite of New Iberia, Louisiana, a person I fictionalized as a Haitian woman in the story of the Spanish settlement of this city. I not only liked the name of this woman, I liked her caring personality. In the fall of 1839, yellow fever broke out in New Iberia, and the “real life” Felicite became the first Florence Nightingale of Teche country who ministered to the sick, cared for those who were dying, and sometimes buried the dead. New Iberia historian Glenn Conrad, now deceased, wrote about this unique person, who even had an oak planted in her honor by the Conrad family at West End Park in New Iberia.

Felicite, who was born in Santo Domingo, was a part of the Duperier family, dating back to Henry Frederick Duperier, and when the 1839 yellow fever epidemic struck New Iberia, she became both physician and nurse, even to several doctors in town. Undocumented reports told of half the population of New Iberia dying from the fever that year, but historian Conrad revealed that according to St. Peter’s Church records, only 11 people were buried from the church during the epidemic (but some may not have been Roman Catholic or may not have been able to afford a funeral!!).

Conjectures have also been made about Felicite being a slave who belonged to the Duperier family, but, again, Conrad declared that there was reason to believe she was a free person of color living on the Duperier place. He claimed that there was no evidence she was a slave.

Felicite was so revered for her altruism during the yellow fever epidemic that her picture adorned the parlors of a number of her white friends during the 19th century, according to another historian, William Perrin. Perrin wrote that on the day of her death, her body lay in state in the home of the Duperiers, all New Iberia businesses were closed, and the entire population followed her to her last resting place.

Several years ago, I received a telephone call from a man in Texas who claimed to be a psychic. He told me that my name had appeared in his consciousness, followed by the name Felicite, and he wondered if I knew anything about a woman by this name. At the time, I had completely forgotten about the plaque memorializing this nurse that stands near the parish library and told him “no.” He kept insisting that I must know her, and I finally hung up…but not before he revealed the many insights about me which he had received -- they were so “on the mark,” I became spooked. About a week later, as I walked on the sidewalk leading into the library, I noticed the plaque with the name “Felicite” immortalized in bronze and gasped. After FLOOD ON THE RIO TECHE appeared in print this past Spring, I kept expecting a telephone call from Texas…

When I was writing FLOOD ON THE RIO TECHE, Felicite seemed to be a good candidate for a fictionalized version of a healer in this story of the Spanish settlement of New Iberia, so she became a part of the city’s history in a second memorializing, even though she was fictionalized. In 1989, on the occasion of New Iberia’s 150th anniversary, Felicite was remembered at a memorial service, and a headstone was dedicated in her memory by the NAACP.

MASKING AND MARDI GRAS

Winter in south Louisiana isn’t a dull time of year. It’s time for pageantry, parading, and masking for Mardi Balls. Carnival balls had their origins in antiquity when during the cold season of the year, people felt called to get together to celebrate their aliveness despite the fact that the weather was cold and icy. The weather IS cold and icy, and the bakeries have begun baking their purple and gold king cakes, planning Mardi Gras balls, and choosing Kings and Queens for the local Krewes in even the smallest town.

From 1805-1819, Spanish rulers in Louisiana outlawed masking , but in 1827, citizens in New Orleans, “The City That Care Forgot,” petitioned the City Council to legalize the custom of masking. Before parades became prevalent in New Orleans, revelers, masked and costumed, attended carnival balls and dressed as humans with bird or beast heads or as birds with human heads. After parades became a part of the Mardi Gras scene, masking persisted for those who didn’t belong to secret societies that organized the parades. By 1860, maskers were sometimes pelted with sticks, stones, and lime in the streets of New Orleans. Because of this uproar, masking was almost banned; however, with police control, street masking became an official part of the parades and other Mardi Gras celebrations in New Orleans.

So you wonder why the hurrah about masking? In an article entitled “Carnival Universal,” that appeared in the “Mobile Bay Monthly” a few years ago, Eugene Walter pointed out that the French sociologist and philosopher Roger Caillois believed that masks were more common than spear, bow, arrow, or plow and reflect the unity of human experience – more than any belief, tool, custom, or invention! He believed that entire civilizations flourished without the wheel but not without the mask. Painters in prehistoric caves showed dancers wearing animal masks; warriors wore masks to intimidate their enemies, and masks were used for solemn rituals and comic occasions. Walter emphasized that at carnival time, men masquerade as totems of virility – as horses, rams, dogs, and bears.

Today, in Cajun country, the custom of masking for grand balls or on the actual day of “Fat Tuesday” signifies a time of fun when a person can be a dog, a cat, a mouse, or a monster and can become anything or anyone he wishes to be during that time. He can impersonate an ancestor or a spirit, can be alive in a joyous and unrestrained way while wearing the disguise or mask…can say, with abandon, “laissez les bon temps roulez!”

A NEW IBERIA RENAISSANCE WOMAN

Each time I return to New Iberia for a few months after a sojourn in Sewanee, I seem to meet up several times at the grocery with a friend who is a folk artist here in New Iberia. We usually stand in the aisle or parking lot of the grocery and stop traffic because we converse such a long time. The friend’s name is Jean Wattigny, and I wrote a profile about her when I was associate editor for “Acadiana Lifestyle,” referencing her as a Renaissance woman because she has diverse artistic gifts that would challenge any accomplished creative person.

Jean has taught gifted and talented students in Iberia Parish School system, including Anderson Jr. High, students with learning disabilities in the Plantation Education Program, Inc. and at Our Lady of Fatima School in Lafayette. She established a tutorial program for children with disabilities called “The Beacon School” at Episcopal School of Acadiana in Cade, St. Thomas More in Lafayette, and The Academy of the Sacred Heart at Grand Coteau, Louisiana. In the Gifted and Talented Program of Iberia Parish Schools, Jean taught students how to write and refers to that experience as one in which she took students “out of chains” since many of them had been paralyzed by their inability to write before they came to her.

When I wrote my book THEIR ADVENTUROUS WILL, PROFILE OF MEMORABLE LOUISIANA WOMEN, Jean did a preliminary drawing for the cover which I decided not to use because it had many colors in it and the cover would have cost more to reproduce than a two-color one. I left the picture at Sewanee so I can’t reproduce it here for readers, but it shows a whimsical imagination busy with quaint characterizations of women at work. Jean also painted, for me, cartoon-like designs on a wooden stool that depict me as someone who performed a juggling act with all the jobs I was carrying out a few years ago. In my bedroom here in New Iberia, I’ve placed atop this stool Raggedy Ann, Jimmy Bear, and two other stuffed bears to remind me that I’m almost 74 and had better start playing a little.

One of my favorites among Jean’s paintings is something called “Catahoula Cows,” which she first rendered as a poem that didn’t satisfy her creative impulses. In the poem, she attempted to capture a feeling she had one summer when she was pregnant with one of her three daughters. She likened herself to a Catahoula cow (at Catahoula, LA) lying in the sun, too tired to even flick away the flies. After struggling with the medium of poetry, she went to her easel and began painting the droll picture that now hangs in her old-fashioned kitchen, a large room decorated with rich woods and hanging copper pots.

Another colorful painting, “We Can Fly,” is reminiscent of Chagall and depicts her family flying away while she holds onto the house in which they live. All of Jean’s art reflects two aspects of her personality: humor and a determination to understand the inner self. “The mystery of artistic ideas – where they come from – is fascinating,” she says. Most of her work is done in oils, expressionist style, and show her deepest emotions about people and events in her life. She claims that she didn’t know what she was doing in art until she joined the Friends of Jung and figured out that she was expressing her feelings. Sometimes she expresses her feelings in poetry and quotes Wordsworth to explain the emotion: “Poetry is the special feeling remembered.”

Jean lives in a restored Greek Revival home built in 1852, prior to the Civil War. It is made of cypress that had been aged for a year and was designed and constructed by slaves. Jean’s husband Jerry built some of the furniture in the old home. The two-story mansion has floors made of wide board heart-of-pine and is furnished with Louisiana antiques, primitives, and family heirlooms. The Wattignys once ran a bed and breakfast and entertained guests from all over the world in their elegant home.

Jean says that in her teaching she has never taught the same thing two years in a row and believes that variety is an important part of good teaching. She confesses that she changes interests a lot but never really gives up anything. She might not continue the interest as a vocation but keeps it and continues to grow by pursuing that particular interest along with new creative work. Needless to say, when I encounter Jean in the grocery, I know that I’m about to be immersed in an adventure that expresses the latest interest in her full and varied life --she IS an artistic experience!