Ms. Rachel is a modern-day Mister Rogers. This was my first encounter with her.
away!”
It turns out that bubble gum also sticks to your elbows, tummy, ears, knees, mouth and other body parts. Who knew? Apparently 68 million people that’s how many times the video has been viewed in its five years on YouTube. This same singer’s YouTube channel has amassed 13.5 billion views. Yes, that’s billion with a B.
‘100 First Words’ is researched and written by the YouTube phenomenon and educator Ms. Rachel.
Folks who keep track of such things estimate the creator’s net worth is between $10 million and $50 million. Perhaps it’s time to dust off my accordion and come up with some icky sticky zydeco.
The bubble gum song was my introduction to Ms Rachel, a beloved educator and entertainer for babies, toddlers and their parents Credit for the revelation goes to Tatum, my grandson who just turned 1 Tatum’s vocabulary is limited to “yah” and “dah” right now But I bet he’ll be saying “icky sticky” right after he starts walking.
Tatum’s world stops when Ms. Rachel is on TV There’s no
ä See MS RACHEL, page 2G
BY JAN RISHER, ROBIN MILLER and MADDIE SCOTT Staff writers
In Baton Rouge, one song sums up the city to a degree that it rarely needs naming. It’s the one people shout in unison, the one that rumbles stadiums and registers on seismographs. It’s mandatory for wedding receptions, tailgates and moments when the city wants to hear itself reflected back.
“Callin’ Baton Rouge” is woven into the city’s identity It is shorthand for home, whether you live in the Capital City or not.
But Baton Rouge shows up in other songs, too — not as loudly, not as proud. In those lyrics, the city is an opening line, a passing reference, a place someone is headed or leaving behind.
Busted flat
Was Kris Kristofferson really
busted flat in Baton Rouge to inspire the first line of “Me and Bobby McGee”?
Kristofferson wrote the song in 1969 at the suggestion of Monument Records producer Fred Foster The two, therefore, shared writing credit. The song was first recorded that same year by country-pop singer Roger Miller of “King of the Road” fame. Then, Janis Joplin did her take on the song in 1971, and it’s her voice that most people hear at any mention of that first line.
But, as Kristofferson told “American Songwriter” magazine in 2021, the line doesn’t exactly refer to a specific place within the city but to a journey in between Baton Rouge and New Orleans.
Kristofferson, who had trained as a helicopter pilot in the military, said he wrote the song while working in the Gulf of Mexico. Earlier, after he completed a tour
of duty in Germany, the Army offered him a job teaching at West Point. Kristofferson, the son of a U.S. Air Force general, turned it down to pursue a career in songwriting. He told the magazine: “At the time I was flying around Baton Rouge. That is probably why Baton Rouge and New Orleans were in it. But it was an idea that Fred Foster had given to me. He called up one time when I was about to go back down to the Gulf for another week of flying and he said, ‘I got a song title for you: Me and Bobby McGee.’”
Kristofferson said the idea of a “writing on assignment” gave him writer’s block at first.
“But then the idea just started growing in my head,” the late singer-songwriter said. “And I can remember when the last line came
BY ROBIN MILLER Staff writer
PROVIDED PHOTO BY AMAZON
After six tries, Lucy the cat finds her perfect home
BY JANE HONEYCUTT
Contributing writer
After my fourth rescue cat died in his sleep at age 16, I was determined not to adopt another
Human Condition
However, I missed having a pet and went to Companion Animal Alliance, CAAWS and Cat Haven once again Lucy, who was originally brought to Cat Haven after she and her siblings were found in a car engine eight years ago, had been adopted as a kitten but returned. Returned not once, but five times
This time, she’d been at the shelter eight months, watching probably 100 other residents leave with their new families A staff member told me it seemed she’d lost all confidence and had with-
SONGS
Continued from page 1G
to me. I was driving to the airport in New Orleans, and the windshield wipers were going into the line about the ‘windshield wipers slappin’ time, I’s holdin’ Bobby’s hand in mine .’ And it finished the song for me.”
Robin Miller features writer
A not-so lonely night
Mick Jagger may have spent a lonely night in spring of 1975 in Montauk, New York, at the “Memory Motel,” but the June 1, 1975, Baton Rouge night that the song references was crowded by any standards Del Moon, who was at the concert that night, remembers that the then-LSU Assembly Center, now Pete Maravich Assembly Center was the largest events facility between Houston and Atlanta in 1975.
The night was the kickoff for the Rolling Stones’ Tour of the Americas. They were the biggest name in rock ‘n’ roll. The opening night at the Center was meant to have two separate shows.
But, the notoriously late band did what they did well in 1975 they were late getting started, put on a great show and just never stopped playing. When it came time for the second
CURIOUS
Continued from page 1G
A favorite of the staff because of her long stay with them, she would occasionally show affection for them but mostly hid in her bed. The first time I went into her room, she eventually came out and sat on my lap a few minutes. The next time I went, she refused to show even a whisker The cave-like bed was her safe place.
drawn to avoid another rejection. Cats do not like change, and she’d been stuffed in a carrier and taken out and returned repeatedly
Lucy’s a calico with unusual markings, even for her type. Her face is half black and half orange sort of like the Phantom of the Opera. One leg is tan, another is black and two are multicolored. Her green eyes are her most striking feature. After reading a heartfelt plea in the Cat Haven newsletter for someone to adopt her, I decided to return there and bring Lucy home. If she didn’t like a quiet
house where there were no animals or children to treat her unkindly, she was truly unadoptable. To facilitate the adoption, the staff said she could stay with me for a month instead of the usual two-week trial period. I picked her up on a Wednesday and settled her upstairs. For the first few days, she hid under the coffee table and rarely came out, even to eat. When I decided to leave the door to her room open a few nights later, she spent part of the night at the end of my bed. Progress!
In the meantime, I notified Cat Haven to finalize the adoption. Even if she wasn’t behaving like I wished she would, she had not misbehaved in any way and certainly deserved a home. Weeks later, she seeks me out to make biscuits (a rhythmic knead-
show to start the crowd waiting outside literally took some of the doors off the hinges to get inside, according to Moon. In his book, “The Greatest Shows on Earth,” the late Bill Bankhead, who ran the PMAC back in 1975, wrote that “both shows were sellouts with ‘festival seating,’” and “the real fun began when the band decided not to break between the two shows and continued playing even after the second show was to have begun.” Moon, who now lives near
The story goes on, describing the continuing day in the life of these prisoners, but the opening paragraphs, alone, are enough to answer Craig Bridges’ question
“I’ve heard that there was a POW camp in Port Allen during World War II, but where was it?” the Baker resident asked “And how many prisoners did it house?”
The camp was located behind where the West Baton Rouge Museum is now, according to Lauren Davis, West Baton Rouge Museum’s curator
“A state historic marker stands at the spot where a reconstructed concrete water fountain from the camp still stands,” Davis said The marker was erected in 2011 by the West Baton Rouge Historical Society at 849 6th St. in Port Allen, pointing out that the water fountain is the only remaining structure of the POW sub-camp, which was a satellite facility of the larger Camp Plauche downriver in Harahan. Then again, there is one other surviving structure from the camp, which now serves as the museum’s juke joint.
The sub-camp operated from 1943 to 1946, housing between 500 and 774 German prisoners-ofwar captured in North Africa and throughout Europe. Modern-day markers of its boundaries are Louisiana Avenue on the north, Michigan Avenue on the south, 8th Street on the west and 6th Street on the east Gueymard, in his 1943 article, added that the the camp was situated on the old West Baton Rouge Parish fairgrounds near Port Allen’s community center U.S Army Capt. C.W Weltzin was the commander He said the prisoners’ living facilities were minimal, and their needs were met
“The camp consisted of tents with wooden floors, each housing several prisoners,” the historic marker reads. “There were sepa-
Tampa, Florida, estimates that around 30,000 people were crowded into the PMAC that night.
Even so, Baton Rouge barely registers in “Memory Motel.”
Midway through the 7-minute song, Jagger sings, “I got to fly today on down to Baton Rouge. My nerves are shot already The road ain’t all that smooth.”
It’s a passing line, easy to miss, delivered without emphasis.
Baton Rouge isn’t the point of the song. It isn’t even the
rate buildings for the kitchen, mess hall and showers. Due to wartime labor shortages on the home front, prisoners were used on local sugar plantations, Cinclare, Poplar Grove, Westover, Smithfield, Devall and Alma.
Ranging in age from 19 to 52, the prisoners were paid 80 cents a day for an 8 to 10 hour workday, six days a week.”
Meanwhile, Davis points to the West Baton Rouge Museum’s website, westbatonrougemuseum.com, which dedicates a page to the parish’s World War II experience.
“The state of Louisiana had the third largest number of Prisoner of War camps in the U.S., behind California and Texas,” the museum’s page said. “There were five main camps for Axis prisoners in Louisiana and a number of satellite camps.”
The five camps were Camp Ruston in Lincoln Parish, Camp Claiborne in Rapides Parish, Camp Livingston in Rapides and Grant parishes, Camp Polk in Vernon Parish and Camp Plauche in Orleans Parish Sub-Camp No. 7 was among the satellites.
“German prisoners were brought here on November 19, 1943,” the museum’s page continues. “The U.S. War Department had standard requirements for the construction of POW camps, and this camp was built according to these conditions for approximately 350 prisoners. The camp
destination. It’s a mile marker Released in 1976 after long months on the road, “Memory Motel” is a departure from the Stones’ earlier bravado. It’s a song that sounds tired in a way only fame can make a person. It’s about drifting, distance and loving something you can’t quite hold on to anymore.
The reference to Baton Rouge almost feels disorienting like hearing your name spoken softly in a crowded room. It’s there. You’re sure of it. But the song doesn’t pause to explain.
consisted of tar-papered buildings within a barbed wire enclosure of two separate 10- to 12-foot-high fences. Guard towers were placed at strategic points within the enclosure.”
The museum points out that not everything went smoothly in the beginning. There was one incident between the prisoners and the locals, when “a strike occurred at the camp after the 240 prisoners there refused to work in order to show solidarity for one punished detail of prisoners.”
In retaliation, the prisoners were only allowed bread and water until the strike was over They lasted about three days.
But that seems to be the only documented outward show of contention during the camp’s operation. Gueymard’s article traces the prisoners’ assimilation into their new surroundings, beginning with their learning how to chop sugar cane stalks.
“When the men got into the field, the planters soon found that the prisoners had no training whatsoever in cutting cane, and the recruits had to learn from the beginning,” Gueymard wrote. “Few speak English, so the problem was made more acute the work of the prisoners has been fairly good but not excellent. However, planters are glad to get what they can.”
Meanwhile, Port Allen residents naturally were curious about their POW neighbors.
Gueymard details an instance when the prisoners arrived on a Sunday afternoon, and residents from Port Allen lined up at the Community Center pool benches to see the prisoners. On the other side of the fence, the prisoners lined up to look at the Americans.
“It was all very funny, and everybody began laughing, the prisoners and the Americans,” Gueymard wrote.
And what, exactly did the Port Allen residents see? Gueymard described the prisoners as husky, broad-shouldered but not overly tall. He said they often engaged in horseplay while in the field.
“The boys seem to take their
ing motion made with the front paws on a human) and spends time with me while I read or work on the computer She still likes time alone, but, when I look for her upstairs, she’s lying out in the open, not hiding. Each day she becomes more comfortable and playful. Lucy’s no longer a loser, but a winner who’s found the perfect home.
— Honeycutt lives in Baton Rouge.
Advocate readers may submit stories of about 500 words to The Human Condition at features@theadvocate.com or The Advocate, Features, 10705 Rieger Road, Baton Rouge, LA 70809. There is no payment, and stories will be edited. Authors should include their city of residence.
And maybe that’s the point. Not every place in a great song is meant to be held up to the light. Some exist briefly, then slip back into the blur of the road — remembered not because they were named loudly, but because they were part of the journey
— Jan Risher, Louisiana culture editor
Belmont Avenue
Born and raised in Lake Charles, Lucinda Williams released “Bus to Baton Rouge” in her 2001 album “Essence,” a release packed with slow, sentimental tracks detailing past and present romances.
In “Bus to Baton Rouge,” she sings of memories of a house on Belmont Avenue, which is a residential street running a little over half a mile from City-Brooks Community Park. She wrote that the house was “built up on cinder blocks off of the ground,” the “driveway was covered with tiny white seashells,” “honeysuckle grew all around” and “a fig tree stood in the backyard.” She describes what she remembers of the house’s interior with an air of bittersweet sorrow She wrote, “There are other things I remember as well. But to tell them would be just too hard.”
In just under 6 minutes, Williams’ ballad to a house
plight good-naturedly and are a jovial lot — not sullen — while at work in the fields,” the reporter wrote.
On the outside, the museum’s page states, Port Allen residents collected musical instruments for the Germans at the camp and hosted dances for them at the Community Center
“People from West and East Baton Rouge recall how the young German men would often whistle at local girls as their work convoys passed,” the museum’s web page continued. “On the weekends, girls would try to talk to the young men through the fence from houses that backed up to one side of the camp on Michigan Avenue. Friendships developed between some farmers and POW laborers as well.”
In 1945, two German prisoners escaped, determined to celebrate their third Christmas post captivity outside the camp. The StateTimes reported on Dec. 26, 1945, that local law enforcement arrested the duo, Heinrich Knuepe and Goenter Lessner, both 25, at the Star Night Club on Plank Road.
“Just how far they got with their celebration was not learned, but they had apparently done little drinking when they were nabbed,” the article stated.
After Sub-Camp No. 7’s 1946 closure, German POWs were sent to various locations, primarily within the allied occupying zones in Germany for processing, labor or repatriation.
But Port Allen made a good impression on some.
“Several prisoners corresponded with residents,” the museum’s page states. “After leaving, one even stated that he wished he were back in Louisiana because of the difficulties of getting food in war-torn France, where he had been transferred.”
Do you have a question about something in Louisiana that’s got you curious? Email your question to curiouslouisiana@ theadvocate.com. Include your name, phone number and the city where you live.
in Baton Rouge carries conflicting emotions many would think of a long-ago breakup you can’t shake off. The slow rhythm, carried by an upright bass, ties with Williams’ soft, country vocals, forging a poignant tribute that punches straight to the heart.
In July 2009, Williams sang the song live at Bridgewater Hall in Manchester, England, and gave some context behind the song before performing it.
“I wrote this about, kind of a glimpse of part of my childhood growing up in Louisiana, describing my grandmother’s house there,” she said. “My mother’s mother.”
It’s unclear what the address is or if the house is still standing. But next time you’re driving along Belmont Avenue and see honeysuckle growing by a fig tree, just know that the vicinity played a role in stirring a Louisiana girl’s journey into stardom.
— Maddie Scott, features writer Baton Rouge may be best known for the song people shout together, but these other mentions paint a fuller picture. Sometimes the city isn’t the chorus.
Sometimes it’s the first line, the memory, the mile marker — there for those paying attention.
MS. RACHEL
Continued from page 1G
crying. His bottle can wait. All eyes are Ms. Rachel, who is Rachel Griffin Accurso, a modern-day “Mister Rogers.” She and her husband Aron created nursery rhymes, puppets and skits that have earned them 18.5 million YouTube subscribers and a Netflix series. Her songs and movements aren’t random. Based on child development research, her presentations are designed to teach children letters, numbers, colors, shapes, animals and more.
Ms. Rachel and her husband were inspired by their son, Thomas, who did not speak until he was 2 years old. With little helpful media available, they created a YouTube channel to fill in the gap. I admit I’ve totally missed the Ms. Rachel train. My children, now grown, came up with “Blue’s Clues,” SpongeBob SquarePants and Barney, the “I love you, you love me” dinosaur Even Barney generated $500 million in retail sales back in the 1990s. The field remains lucrative and crowded. Tatum’s eyes were also glued to Lenny Pearce, who uses electronic dance music to teach toddlers about fingers, shoulders, knees, toes and “Row Row Row Your Boat.” He’s got 161,000 YouTube subscribers and an upcoming Toddler Techno Tour of Australia and New Zealand. Wait. Where’s my accordion? Herman Fuselier is executive director of the St. Landry Parish Tourist Commission. A longtime journalist covering Louisiana music and culture, he lives in Opelousas. His “Zydeco Stomp” show airs at noon Saturdays on KRVS 88.7 FM.
PROVIDED PHOTO
Lucy was returned to the shelter
five times before Jane Honeycutt got a look at her, and Lucy’s a loser no more.
STAFF PHOTO BY ROBIN MILLER
A Louisiana state historic marker stands at the location of the German Prisoner-of-War SubCamp No. 7 in Port Allen. The white structure next to it was a water fountain used in the camp.
STAFF PHOTO BY MADDIE SCOTT
Lucinda Williams spent part of her childhood on Baton Rouge’s Belmont Avenue, releasing a song about it in her 2001 album ‘Essence.
A saucy shrimp and spaghetti, with good bread for dipping
BY MICHAEL DIRESTO Contributing writer
The story of how this meal became a DiResto family tradition begins around 1950 and with an unlikely family member establishing it — my grandfather, Pete DiResto, or Pop Pop
Unlikely, because Pop Pop, as far as anyone in the family can recall, did not cook any other dish, since his wife, Agnes, my grandmother was quite the cook.
This recipe didn’t technically originate with Pop Pop, but rather, he picked it up while eating at a restaurant blocks away from his home in Rockaway Beach, New York. A neighborhood place called Mangone’s (pronounced mahn-GOHN-eez) was a lunchtime spot, serving food primarily for a hungry blue-collar crowd of laborers. There were mostly men in the crowd, but some women, all of whom worked with their hands. In other words, Mangone’s was the type of place where workers of modest means could get a hearty meal for a modest price the same considerations, then or today, for anyone trying to put food on the table for a family on a budget With a predominantly Catholic clientele, Fridays were the day when workers from the fish market would deliver fresh seafood to Mangone’s cook Patsy (a man) whose specialty, and crowd favorite, was shrimp and spaghetti The recipe was not particularly fancy or innovative — it used the same ingredients of a traditional pasta aglio e olio (garlic and olive oil) — except Patsy prepared it by making about double the amount of sauce, served with bread for sopping it up, making the meal go further
A small but historical footnote for this family tradition is that around this same time, when my father was 10 years old, he and his friends would catch pigeons and sell them to Mangone’s, receiving anywhere between 10
to 25 cents each, depending on their size, which Patsy would use to prepare squab, whether roasted or braised
Payment for the boys was also sometimes supplemented with a serving of shrimp and spaghetti.
Ten years later, that same pigeon-catching boy was a man of 20 bringing his girlfriend home for dinner for the first time.
Nervousness probably prevailed because not only would she be meeting my father’s parents, brother and sisters, but all eyes would be fixed on this young Scandinavian woman for her reaction to tasting a meal prepared by the Italian family patriarch.
Would she appreciate the simple, inauspicious-looking dish of shrimp and spaghetti? My father wasn’t so sure.
Turns out, she loved it, especially the part about sopping up
the sauce with bread. (My father had to warn her to lean forward and keep her napkin at hand to guard against drips ruining her best blouse.)
From that day forward and in the years after they were married, shrimp and spaghetti was my mom’s favorite dish. As kids, we also came to appreciate it as the meal for special occasions, with my dad preparing it without fail on Mother’s Day and my mom’s birthday
Even as recently as two years ago, when I flew my wife and kids from Baton Rouge to New York to celebrate my mother’s 80th birthday, there was my dad boiling three different pots of pasta to feed a house filled with extended family and my mother’s childhood friends.
Just as for Patsy, this is a recipe that, with just a little math, you can easily double or
Shrimp and spaghetti (a saucy seafood aglio e olio) Serves
triple the ingredients depending on the size of the crowd you are serving. There are also other variations — like adding broccoli for a greener version. My dad will tell you that his father took Pasty’s recipe and improved it; he took his father’s recipe and made improvements; then my brother did likewise, as did I, with my secret weapon of using Louisiana shrimp since I moved to Baton Rouge 30 years ago. We all say our own version is the best, and we’re all correct.
Marilyn Theresa Tveter DiResto passed away almost two years ago. Almost two weeks ago, on Dec. 31, her birthday, I began working on this article and collecting what I needed to prepare the recipe, to honor her memory She would have been 82, and had she been here, she would have asked you to pass the bread.
and
2.
3. When oil is shimmering, add shrimp in a single layer and cook for two minutes, until bottoms are pink/ orange and crisp, then turn over, cook for another two minutes, then transfer to plate. Reduce heat, add the remaining 3/4 cup olive oil, and scrape up any shrimp bits with wooden spatula.
4. In the meantime, bring large pot of water to boil and add 1 tablespoon salt. Cook pasta to al dente, reserving 3 cups of salty, starchy pasta water Strain pasta and add it to a saucepan.
5. Add slivered garlic to the Dutch oven and cook over medium-low heat for one minute, being careful not to burn it. Pour in the pasta water and bring pot to simmer, whisking to keep mixture from separating. When fully mixed, scoop out one cup of sauce, add it to the pasta, and toss to combine.
6. Return the shrimp to the Dutch oven, add the parsley, stir, and cover, returning for a simmer for 4 minutes.
7. Serve pasta in large bowls and evenly distribute the shrimp and extra sauce on top of each bowl. Serve with freshly grated cheese and good bread for dipping.
HelpingSmall Businesses Thrive
Sherri Utleyand MaryAlvarez,two longtime friends, put together asmall church fundraiser in Ascension Parish, Louisiana. On thetable were candles, handpoured, carefullycrafted, and scented to sparkmemories. Theevent confirmed whattheysuspected: People loved theplayful designs and nostalgic scents. It wasthe beginning of Blessed BayouCandles, acompanyrooted in faith, friendship, and thesimple desiretobring joy. Theircandleswould eventuallytravelfar beyond Louisianato Oregon, NewJersey, Denmark, Mexico, and even Scotland, after thetwo women applied to theShell LiveWire program, a businessaccelerator forentrepreneurs. Theprogram gavethem morethan training;itoffered community, coaching,and practical lessons on finance,marketing,and contingencyplanning.
“Wedidn’t even have ducks yet, but theShell LiveWire Programtaughtushow to line them up.”
SHERRI UTLEY | BLESSED BAYOUCANDLES
STAFF PHOTO BY MICHAEL JOHNSON
A finished bowl of Michael DiResto’s shrimp and spaghetti with bread
