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Jan Risher
My porch is a disaster. Grandma would understand. I’m writing this column in a place I’ve dreamed about for a long, long time — my new screened-in porch. My grandmother, who lived a block from my childhood home in Mississippi, had a screenedin porch that played a pivotal role in my youth and childhood. It was quite small, but I was the only person who ever spent much time there. I adored that porch. I’m sure all those hours spent there, left to my own devices, planted the idea of having a screened-in porch of my very own. Our “dream porch” is quite a mess right now — a heavy unopened pack of warped wooden flooring still wrapped in plastic dominates one end of the porch. Two giant ceiling fans that don’t have lights are leaning against a porch-screen support looking a lot like a helicopter. Nine plants in various stages of palliative care line the screen near the old screen door we salvaged leading outside. A pile of boxes and a couple of plastic tubs create a pathway to the door to our kitchen, with a bag of 18 caladium bulbs just waiting to be planted. Even so, I’m happy to be sitting here — though it doesn’t feel completely real. There are elements of our porch that would thrill my grandmother. I’ve never known another person who appreciated a bargain more than her. She was a seamstress who could fix things up with ease. She found treasures all over. A nail here, a new seam on a pillow there — and voila, an old chair was “good as new,” her very favorite phrase. The fact that I’m sitting in a chair someone gave me would thrill my grandmother, who was a child of the Depression. She would have wanted to know its provenance — who gave it to me, why anyone would get rid of a perfectly good patio set, and then she would wonder whether there were any more where that came from. Because my grandmother sewed so much for so many people, I would spend hours at a time alone on her porch. Mind you, I wasn’t lonely, just by myself, trying my best to make things with the scraps of fabric she would pass me through the big, wide-open dining room window. I remember trying to make a Diane von Furstenberg-style wrap dress for a one-eyed doll
Dena Maturin sent this postcard from Antarctica for the 2026 Postcard Project.
STAFF PHOTO BY JAN RISHER
NEAR OR FAR
The Postcard Project mystery and how one request from Baton Rouge produced 30 cards from Korea
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BY JAN RISHER Staff writer
ne day this summer, along with a stack of postcards, I received a small box marked “Korea Post.” As I opened it, I found all the customs forms in both English and Korean, but there was no letter or further explanation included. Inside the box, I found two packages of beautiful postcards from South Korea — one package included a dozen modern-day black and white postcards of major Korean landmarks. These postcards A postcard sent for the 2026 were designed to be colored. Postcard Project from Tulsa, The second package of 18 postThis year, we received Oklahoma cards was reprints of scenes 68 postcards from Louisiana. from the Joseon dynasty. Garland calls Mr. Jo “the best As a longtime and avid watcher YEAR TOTAL COUNTRIES project manager” he has ever of Korean dramas, I recognized POSTCARDS REPRESENTED worked with. He explained that all of the landmarks and many of Mr. Jo shaved a year off the the scenes from Joseon life. 2022 167 13 project by walking straight up The postcards did not include 2023 235 22 to a vendor and naming his own a message or any indication of 256 33 2024 price instead of waiting on bids. who sent them. For weeks, that 267 30 When a German supplier fell was where the mystery stayed. 2025 288 36 behind on a contracted delivThen, I received an email 2026 from Don Garland asking if I ery, Mr. Jo flew to Germany had received postcards from Mo- of it running international plant over a weekend with a young rocco, Belgium and South Korea. startups — South Korea, China, In- engineer, whose job was to sit inside the supplier’s factory and Garland, 72, is a longtime Baton ner Mongolia and more. Rouge reader who decided to In 2015, he led the American side report on any work taking place round up some far-flung postcard of a joint startup in South Korea, that wasn’t directly related to the senders on his own. He spent al- working alongside a South Korean ä See POSTCARD, page 2G most 30 years with Exxon, much project manager named Mr. Jo.
BY THE NUMBERS
ä See PORCH, page 2G
‘PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT YOUR KIDS DO’
Exhibit honors La. man slain in 9/11 attack on Pentagon Michael Lamana shows the cuff POW/MIA bracelet his son Michael Scott Lamana once wore. The bracelet honored a missing U.S. soldier in Laos during the Vietnam War. The elder Lamana now wears the bracelet in honor of his son. STAFF PHOTO BY ROBIN MILLER
BY ROBIN MILLER Staff writer
Michael Scott Lamana was 7 years old and preparing for his first Communion at St. Aloysius Catholic Church when he was asked to draw a picture of his family. In simple lines, the Baton Rouge kid, known to everyone as Scott, drew a portrait of himself, his dad, mom and two sisters backed by a city with an airplane flying overhead. Lama-
na drew the number 77 on the plane in his family portrait. Why 77? Scott’s dad, Michael Lamana, said his son was fascinated by the story of American pilot Robert T. Smith, who flew aircraft No. 77 for the American Volunteer Group Flying Tigers during World War II. But that number now has a different meaning for the Lamana family.
That day On Sept. 11, 2001, Scott Lamana,
31, was working in the Pentagon when al-Qaida terrorists diverted American Airlines Flight No. 77’s route to Los Angeles from Washington Dulles International Airport to the country’s Department of Defense headquarters, crashing into the building’s E Ring at 500 miles per hour. The time was 9:37 a.m., only minutes after two other sets of terrorist-hijacked planes rammed into the World Trade
ä See LAMANA, page 2G
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Memories of Hurricane Gustav in Broadmoor BY KATHRYN PERRY Contributing writer
Maybe it’s my Baton Rouge neighborhood, maybe it’s Louisiana, but I’ve seen some unusual things. Trees down Human on every other Condition house — two on the house next door. A bunk bed broken in half, and a bathroom blocked by tree branches; the occupant wrapped a towel around her hand to break a window and crawl out. Entire cul-de-sacs wiped from memory — was there a street behind all those trees? Cars doing a two-way dance at six-lane intersections with no working traffic signals for weeks. Hurricane Gustav, September 2008. Chickens crossing the road. My husband and I detoured daily to spot them and wondered how the owners justified keeping six when you’re only allowed three
per household. Did one own six and say the neighbor owned three or did two neighbors each own three? The chickens mingled freely and clearly owned the road and surrounding yards. We swear we saw Rasputin once. Large guy with a black beard and a robe that was somber yet elaborate — maybe he was an Orthodox clergyman.
Guy walking his dog while driving a golf cart. He rides slowly while his dog trots alongside without a leash. The dog looks happy, but the man stares straight ahead. I shouldn’t judge — maybe he’s in pain. A family also rides around the neighborhood in a golf cart. No license plate or turn signals, though. The Stay-Puff marshmallow man, the Oscar Mayer Wienermo-
bile and a segmented dragon on a parade float. Those were during Halloween, the Broadmoor Christmas parade and Lunar New Year (or Tet Nguyên Đán), respectively. Virgin Mary with strobing halos. Rainbow-colored lights radiate out in spokes from her head. Some people complain to the neighborhood association, which baffles me. The statues are beautiful and unique, and I wouldn’t trade them to live in a boring neighborhood. One Virgin Mary statue was seen crying tears and the faithful lined up down the block to witness. A crested bird in a drainage ditch at the neighborhood park — my first sighting of a yellowcrowned night Heron. Large egret checking out the egret statue in my pond, then strutting along, stabbing at minnows. A hawk bursting out of the shrubs carrying a rat-sized object. Slender snakes shimmying across the pond, sleeping lizards on reeds, spiders the size of my palm skat-
ing across the water. Hundreds of glowing lights in the lawn that blink closed when the flashlight lingers too long (do not try this if you have a spider phobia). Goodwood Boulevard has a dedicated bicycle lane, so you see electric scooters and skateboards, men on impossibly small bicycles, people texting while riding their scooters and bicycles. Just on Sunday, I saw a woman with long hair extensions down her back riding a scooter, smoking a cigarette and giving the finger to a passing driver. Living her best life, here, in Broadmoor. — Perry 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.
LAMANA
Continued from page 1G
STAFF PHOTO BY JAN RISHER
Four of the 30 postcards from South Korea, sent by Mr. Jo
POSTCARD
Continued from page 1G Korean delivery. Garland’s team eventually won an industry award for the fastest startup in licensing history, and he credits Mr. Jo for most of the effort that led to success. So when Garland saw a need for a postcard from Korea, he asked Mr. Jo — a man he has not worked alongside in more than a decade — to send a single postcard to a newspaper columnist in Louisiana. Mr. Jo sent 30. “That’s just about like everything Mr. Jo does,” Garland said. “He goes above and beyond.”
36 countries, 50 states The fifth annual Postcard Project has turned out to be our biggest yet. We made our goal of receiving postcards from all 50 states earlier than we’ve ever done it before — more than a month before our Labor Day deadline, in fact. Plus, we’ve received postcards from more countries than ever before — 36 countries in all. For the record, the United Nations might not approve of the way I’m counting countries, but I’m counting Antarctica nonetheless. How often does one receive a postcard from Antarctica? Or Greenland? Both were from the same person, Dena Maturin of Lafayette. She also sent one from Norway. I expect we will receive a few more postcards from near and far before the Labor Day deadline. When we were missing a postcard from Oklahoma, Aron Katz came through — by way of his mother. He wrote, “You can check one more state off your list! My mom who lives in Lafayette asked that I send this note to you.” From North Dakota, George and Nancy Couvillon, of Marksville, wrote: “Chere Jan, We’re on a pilgrimage and family reunion to the ‘Frozen North.’ Hopefully these greetings will help you meet your postcard deadline production report: Lots of corn, some soybeans, little wheat, very few injury lawyer billboards, no trash on the side of the road. As always, anxious to get back to God’s Avoyelles.” Keith Long, of New Orleans, sent a postcard from Mexico. He wrote, “Greetings from Puerto Vallarta, land of abundant sunshine, tacos al pastor, chilaquiles verdes and a statue of John Huston whose 1964 movie ‘Night of the Iguana’ inspired Richard Burton and Liz Taylor to purchase Casa Kimberly as their love nest the same year and put Puerto Vallarta on the map.” Melissa Reed sent a postcard from Vicenza, Italy. She wrote: “Ciao Ms. Risher! Greetings from Vicenza, Italy, known as the City of Palladio —
the 16th century architect. Apparently, there is a Palladio house in Baton Rouge built in 1996 by architect Ken Tate. Come visit Vicenza and I’ll give you a tour of my city!”
Homemade or marketing Debbie in Harvey sent a handmade postcard and wrote: “Dear Jan, Last year I sent you a postcard that I had painted with bamboo. This year, it’s my first attempt using cyanotype. It’s such a pretty blue. I think this is some of the creeping fig, which has escaped its pot and is growing by my front door.” From Oregon, Leah Simon sent one of the most beautiful postcards I’ve ever received. It appears to be a reprint of a watercolor painting of two people on a lake in a red canoe. I do love a red canoe, which may explain why I chose to keep this particular postcard front and center on my desk since I received it in July. Upon a closer inspection, I realized that Simon’s postcard appears to be from a restaurant called Lake House in Caldera Springs, Oregon. I feel like making a trip to Oregon just to eat at a restaurant that has the level of taste to do that kind of subtle marketing.
Postcard mysteries Not all postcards were new. After her aunt passed away, Suzann Davis of Prairieville found a 1931 postcard of Tiger Stadium that she sent me. A mystery person sent at least a dozen old postcards from spots around the globe. Most included messages like this one from Montego Bay, Jamaica, which read: “Time traveled to 1970. Worked on my tan and relaxed on the beach. Wish you were here. X” Or this one from Niagara Falls: “Went way back in time before it was super tacky. Wish you were here. X” And with words in a Cyrillic alphabet that features Red Square, an array of sickles and hammers and a large CCCP logo: “Had to travel back to the Golden Age of the USSR. Wish you were here. X” The sender of these time-travelthemed postcards remains a mystery — all postmarks are Baton Rouge. I hope whoever sent them enjoyed sending them as much as I did receiving them. Garland’s other leads panned out too. The Morocco postcard and the one from Belgium came from other colleagues, each with stories of their own. Like the rest of the postcards, someone had the idea, found a postcard and went to the trouble of mailing it, from near or far. Once again, I am not certain what I will do with all of these postcards, 30 of which are from a man in Seoul whom I’ve never met, sent because a friend asked. In a summer where headlines keep score of what’s fraying, 3-inch by 5-inch postcards create special connections and feel
Center in Lower Manhattan, New York City. A fourth plane crashed at 10:03 a.m. in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Scott Lamana was sitting in his office in the Pentagon’s E Ring tracking the planes in New York when the Flight 77 crash killed him, 124 of his colleagues and the 64 passengers on the plane. He was a U.S. Navy lieutenant on the brink of a promotion to lieutenant commander, and he was three months shy of earning his master’s degree in business administration from the University of Maryland. Scott Lamana was married to his Baton Rouge sweetheart, Lorna, and all seemed right in the world until that fateful day 25 years ago.
The 25th anniversary This year marks the 25th anniversary of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, and the Lamana family will always feel its pain. Michael Lamana recounts how he, his wife, Wanda, and their son’s in-laws piled into a car for a nonstop drive from Baton Rouge to Washington on the day of the crash. Scott’s death had not been confirmed and wouldn’t be until after their arrival. They would bury him in Arlington Cemetery a month later. On the way to Washington, Michael Lamana thought about a cuff bracelet worn by his son. It commemorated a POW/MIA soldier who went missing in Laos during the Vietnam War. On this day, he pushes up his shirt sleeve to show the bracelet on his right wrist while standing in front of a small exhibit in the LSU Brookshire Military Museum dedicated to his son’s service. The inscription has worn off the bracelet, but it doesn’t matter, because now it commemorates Scott. He gazes at the dress blue uniform in the exhibit case, pointing out the gold Joint Chiefs of Staff badge pinned on the left side beneath a set of flight wings. Scott Lamana served as a briefer for the chief of naval operations. In this role, he helped monitor the operations of the Navy’s global fleet from his post in Pentagon’s Navy Command Center.
STAFF PHOTO BY ROBIN MILLER
Michael Lamana stands next to the LSU Brookshire Military Museum’s exhibit commemorating his son, Lt. Michael Scott Lamana, who died 25 years ago in the Sept. 11 terrorist attack on the Pentagon.
and graduated from Catholic High School, then LSU, where he joined the ROTC. “LSU had the Army and Air Force ROTC, but Scott wanted to join the Navy ROTC,” Michael Lamana said. “Southern had the Navy ROTC, so he joined there.” His dad remembers Scott as a curious kid, who eagerly learned the mechanics of things. When he wanted a car, he took on several jobs at once, including reserve positions with the East Baton Rouge Parish Sheriff’s Office and Fire Department, while attending LSU. But Scott Lamana’s dream was flying airplanes for the Navy. After graduating LSU with a bachelor’s degree in political science in 1992, he was commissioned as an ensign in the Navy, then trained as a naval flight officer, earning his flight wings. Though his eyesight prohibited A bigger picture him from being a pilot, Scott LaThough he’s proud of his son’s mana flew with Patrol Squadron service, Michael Lamana shares a Nine in Barber’s Point, Hawaii, bigger picture of his son, one that where he served as a navigator/ begins with a childhood in Baton communicator, tactical coordinaRouge, where he was born in 1970 tor and mission commander on a
PORCH
Still fights back tears Michael Lamana still fights back tears when talking about his son’s life. Stories overlap, like his son’s volunteer work to remodel schools in Hawaii and the time Scott totally dismantled a 1964 Mustang and put it back together without a hitch. But now he thinks about that picture Scott drew all those years ago. “I tell people to pay attention to what your kids do, not because what’s happening now will happen in the future, but how it relates to who they will develop into,” he said. “We, as people, are a summation of our experiences in life, whether bad or good. That’s who
Jan Risher’s new porch is a work in progress. She and her husband are living in their home as they finish rebuilding after a fire damaged it in August 2025.
Continued from page 1G one of my cousins must have left at my grandmother’s. I was operating sans needle and thread, but I still believed the geometry of a wrap dress could be figured out. If I could cut it right, wouldn’t the only critical part be a tiny hole for a belt to go through? Spoiler alert: My doll-sized wrap dress attempt never worked. The doll ended up resembling a glorified mummy instead. In short, my grandmother saw potential everywhere she looked. She was always considering how to improve upon what was there — how to make it more beautiful, how to make it fit better or work better. She would definitely have ideas on how to get my porch in gear, and those ideas would come to fruition in a flash. Things would disappear. Caladium bulbs would be planted.
P-3C maritime patrol aircraft. Then came his service in the Persian Gulf, followed by a stint as one of the Navy’s youngest flight instructors. In 1999, he was assigned to the Pentagon, where, on Sept. 11, he protected other workers in the E Ring by telling them, “Y’all get out of the office and let us do our job” — a story relayed to Michael Lamana by survivors of the attack.
STAFF PHOTO BY JAN RISHER Right now I’m listening to cicadas and cardinals. In honor of my grandmother, my husband and I just straightened out a beautiful rug another friend picked up at an estate sale and sent us and pulled a little table over so we can prop up our feet. He has come outside to join me now. I spent so many hours alone on my grandmother’s porch, so I appreciate having someone to share mine with. The thermometer says it’s only 83 degrees
outside. Remarkably, I feel a slight breeze coming through the screens — like a late-summer Louisiana dream. Even though the porch has a long way to go, taking this moment of stillness together — in the midst of a lot of chaos around us — is a balm for my spirit. My little girl self would be so pleased. Email Jan Risher at jan.risher@ theadvocate.com.
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Preston
Tour bus operator
“The future’s happening here in Richland Parish.” Kaycie
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$1.6 billion for Louisiana businesses. Catering for 40 people used to be a good week. Now they hit 400. And that’s just the tacos. From coffee shops to bus tours, Meta’s Richland Parish investment is already paying off for businesses across Louisiana.
The future is for everyone. meta.com/BuildingLouisiana
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The Tigers celebrate after defeating Coastal Carolina 5-3 in game two of the College Worl d Series finals in Omaha, Nebraska, on Sunday. The roar is restored. When Jay Johnson took over aas the LSU baseball coach in 2022, the six-time national champion Tigers were in the midst of a 13--year title drought. The Tigers returned to the top of college baseball during the 2023 season. LSU survived s a dicey regional that went to a winner-take-all final at Alex Box Stadium against upstart LLittle Rock. Then LSU dominated, sweeping the super regional and College World Series in seveen games. After Sunday and Johnson’s second national title, he has LSU threatening to reboot a dynnasty that blossomed under legendary coach Skip Bertman. No. 8 is on its way to Baton Rouge. ä SEE COMPLETE COVERAGE OF THE TIGERS’ COLLEGE WORLD SERIES WIN. PAGGE 1B
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Classified .....................6C Deaths .........................9A Metro ...........................8A Comics-Puzzles .....3C-5C Living............................1C Opinion .....................10A Commentary .............11A Lottery..........................8A Sports ..........................1B
100TH YEAR, NO. 358
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LSU center fielder Chhris Stanfield, right, celebrates with catcher Luis Hernandez as they both score on a two-run single by left fielder Derek Curiel in the fourth inning of Game 2 of the Collegge World Series finals against Coastal Carolina on Sunday at Charles Schwab Field in Omaha, Neb. LSU scored four runs in the decisive inning and won 5-3 to earn its ssecond title under coach Jay Johnson in four years. BY KOKI RILEY OMAHA, Neb. — To calll anything a dynasty requires a certain level of consiistent, championship excellence. The Boston Celtic cs in the 60s, New York Yankees in the 90s and UCo onn women’s basketball in the 2010s certainly fit th he description. LSU winning five national championsh hips in 10 years under Skip Bertman definitely qualiifies. Coach Jay Johnson n’s Tigers aren’t quite there yet, but what LSU acco omplished Sunday afternoon at Charles Schwab Fielld was remarkable nevertheless and potentially the b beginning of another baseball dynasty in Baton Roug ge. For the eighth tim me in program history, and for
the second time in three seasons, LSU won the national championship. The Tigers took down Coastal Carolina 5-3 in Game 2 of the College World Series final to secure the 2025 title. “Unbelievable. I’m so proud right now,” Johnson said. “It’s not to be taken for granted being here two years ago. That was special. Greatest night of my life. “This is equal and maybe even tops it in some ways.” The win secured Johnson’s second title in four years at LSU, making him the first coach in college baseball history to accomplish that feat at the same school. The Tigers did it despite bringing back just 12 players who appeared in a game from last year’s team, adding 12 players from the transfer portal,
three junior-college recruits and 10 freshmen in the offseason. “We (added) really talented freshmen ...,” Johnson said. “In a month’s time, we were able to add Chris (Stanfield). We were able to add Anthony (Eyanson), Zac Cowan, Luis Hernandez, Danny Dickinson to those 12 guys who were the right 12 guys.” With the score tied 1-1, the fourth inning proved to be the difference between a coronation and a Game 3 on Monday. The Tigers scored four runs on a walk, a hit by pitch and four singles to take a 5-1 lead. Sophomore Jake Brown led off with a walk before a single from junior Jared Jones and a hit by pitch loaded the bases for the junior Stanfield.
Rabalais: Thesse Tigers measure up to LSU’s toweringg expectations, Page 4C
Braswell’s fingerprints all over Tigers’ College World Series title, Page 5C
See which Tigers made an appearance on the All-CWS team, Page 5C
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