PAUL CARBONEAU:
CLASS OF 1954
Fortier High SchoolClass of 1954
New orleans, LA
PAUL's Story
The snapshot above is of me and my wife of 50 years,Wendy LeBeau (now deceased) taken in my Snohomish, WA yard, circa 2011. I'm trying to connect with Class of '54 chums at Fortier High School, and hooked up with "Classmates" quite by accident. I was attempting to reach remembered Fortier guys and gals via Comcast's 411 directory assistance program with minimal success: My closest "hit" was a recorded message from the NOLA
Fire Dept! Well, a "Classmates" ad somehow just spontaneously popped up, ironically with a Seattle corporate address, so here I am. I'm a novice with social websites, so it is with some trepidation I share part of my Fortier story.I have a 1954 Tarpon yearbook containing several "then" photos of me, along with numerous "good luck" and "goodbye"notes from pals.
In June of 1950 I completed my 9th grade year at South Junior High School in Everett, WA (30 miles north of Seattle). My dad, a naval officer, had just been reassigned to the 8th Naval District, NOLA, and moved the family to New Orleans over the summer. (7725 Plum St. Off S. Carrolton, near Oak St. Next door to Williams' flavored Snow Cone Shop. Ha.-ha.) It was a difficult transition for me, despite the snow cones, due to missing my Everett friends and not knowing anyone in N.O. but my parents. So, I read about the pirate Jean Lafitte, Governor Claiborne, and a pile of Horatio Hornblower novels. And waited for school to start.
New Orleans public schools in 1950 were segregated not only by race, but by gender at the secondary level. Fortier had an all male student body. McMain, a few blocks away, had all girls. Which I never seemed to find. As a sophomore in high school I failed to appreciate any purported benefits to my social development. But, I did have one thing going for me, albeit not recognized at the time.
At South Junior in Everett I was recognized as one of the top trumpet players in town for my age group. Ray Howel, Everett HS music director was eagerly anticipating my arrival at EHS for my sophomore year. But I ended up at Fortier, 3000 miles away!
Fortier had a great band in the early 1950's as documented in the Times-Picayune Dixie roto Magazine dated Nov 11,1951 describing the band's travels and activities from the prior year. I still have a copy tucked away in my Tarpon. Emphasized was the competition to achieve assignment to the "senior" band, (first period) as opposed to the "second stringers" (fourth period). I never considered myself a status-concious person, but unlike Everett HS, where the band instructor was eagerly awaiting my arrival, I was an unknown quantity at Fortier. How do I get into first period band? The counselor enrolling me at Fortier, Arnold Kuss, I believe, perfunctorily started me in fourth period band class,as I could tell from his notes, and then, he said, "we'll see." So, in one of my few acts of resistance to an authority figure, I blew some smoke (figuratively) at Mr. Kuss, explaining that where I came from I was good with the trumpet. Really good! Well, it worked. I was in Fortier's Big Brass Band as a sophomore.
Maybe my band ambitions were aided by the Korean War. Peter Dombourian was the legendary patriarch of the Fortier Senior Band whose military reserve unit was activated during the Korean conflict. He was a no-nonsense, rules-are-rules, my-way-or-the-highway type of guy. The only smile I ever saw on his face is in the facuty section of an earlier Tarpon! In whispered tones, the kids called him "Dumbo." In no way was he "dumb." In every way he was dominant. I shuddered to think what Dumbo's reaction would be to Mr. Kuss's decision to place a transfer kid he had never heard play into his senior band! But my youthful paranoia was not based on keen fact. I had never even met Mr. D in person! My conclusions and insecurity were based on a rich mixture of fear and folklore But it all worked out:; Peter Dombourian signed my1954 yearbook "to the 1st Chair. And when Mr. D returned to Fortier as band director my junior year, he invited his brother to one of our concerts. This particular concert had a little trumpet exercise built into it, involving me. Afterwards, Mr. D's brother commented that I reminded him of Bunny Berigan. I took that as a compliment, but to this day have no idea who Bunny Berigan is/was. I do know I never measured up to local Tulane legend, Al Hiirt, but i was pretty darned good! The following farewell comment in my '54 Tarpon from fellow Fortier band trumpet-section buddy, John Guarino, should put things in perspective: "Lots of luck, Paul! Keep practicing and you might (even) be as good as you think you are." Touche, John!
Another factor in my lack of ease in bearing up to Mr. D's harsh scrutiny, was the consummate ease and humor of his replacement, Mr Emile Greenwald. I, as a newcomer, and benefactor of Mr. Kuss's decision to place me in the top band, fit smoothly into Mr. G's established system at third chair in the trumpet section. That was plenty good-enough for me, for then, under the circumstances. Mr. G. was everything I hoped he would be: young, a trumpet player, not hyper about student conduct, and, as a temp. not inclined to kiss administrative derrieres. In short, I was finally happy to be in New Orleans.
In one of our first sessions of the school year, Mr. Greenwald shut us down with his baton an announced he was going to tell us a joke. Now remember, Fortier was still an all-male band in 1950: This guy goes into a Katz and Bestof...Expand for more
f drug store on a Friday afternoon and buys a gross of condoms, He returns, agitated, on Monday morning, complaining to the sales clerk his box only contains 143 condoms. After some embarrassed silence, the clerk, obviously the consummate diplomate, approached the customer, gave him an additional condom, and whispered,
"I hope I didn't inconvenience you over the weekend. I think I led the cheers, but after 60 years who remembers?
I had many wonderful, memorable teachers at Fortier. But my favorite English teacher, Miss Fortunata Collins, would never, in a thousand years, have started the day telling us that joke. And I, as much as I loved Miss Collins, I never jumped and cheered over Silas Marner or King Leer (as I referred to him). No, the Fortier band room was now my home.
Fortier High School was replete with "characters" my sophomore year, not the least of which was the principal, Herbert S. Lee. Mr. Lee was a not-to-tall, but massive rotundo (my word), reputedly a former professional wrestler.
I never heard Mr. Lee speak, but I observed with great interest his occasional mock-serious tussles with individual football players as they meandered down the hall adjacent to his office. JUST IMAGINE. As I recall, no seating was provided for the School Board.
The culture of Fortier High School changed dramatically my Junior year. It was the first year public high schools in New Orleans became co-educational (mixed boy/girl) institutions. Mr. Lee was replaced by the elegant and dignified Miss Ruth McShane, former principal of the previously all-girl McMain high school. This apparently eliminated all administrative wrestling in the hallways. I vaguely recall that Mr. Lee was reassigned to a public school position of lesser profile than high school principal.
Peter Dombourian returned from the wars and resumed his position of director of bands. During his absence I had acquired sufficient maturity to understand his ways and respect his undeniable competence. Except for a brief conflict over the validity of my sense of humor, Mr. Dombourian and I had a cordial and productive relationship during the remainder of my enrollment at Fortier.
Mr. Greenwald, our substitute Director, just sort of drifted away, but I'm sure nobody in the band band forgot his timeless joke. Whatever he did next, I'm sure he was good at. And I'm sure he had a lot of fun.
Surprisingly, the co-ed transition had only minimal impact on the band. McMain, for reasons I never understood, sent only one girl, Joan Grosch, to the Fortier senior band. Did McMain even have a band? Anyway, Joan Grosch was a super-confident girl I doubt, unlike me, worried even a second about possibly being assigned to the second unit. It took a person like her to be comfortable as the only girl in Fortier's Big Brass Band!
The most profound impact on Fortier's culture that year, however, was the general invasion of McMain girls into Fortier's masculine halls. They came in all sizes, shapes, IQs. levels of difficulty and degrees of willingness to sit with you in the lunchroom. One in particular, Katherine "Kati" McConaughey, had a profound impact on my life. She was willing to have lunch with me.
All her friends called her "Kati." I asked her about this during one of our lunchroom conversations and she explained she, herself, was the source of the nickname. When she was a young child, her parents were teaching her how to say her name, including the phonetic approximations of "Katherine." Kati popped out, and stuck!
As we became more comfortable with each other, I started to hang out with her as much as I could, and eventually we became a "couple item" in one of those silly newsletters compiled by one of the sororities that came over from McMain. I loved it. In my view, Kati was not only my first high school sweetheart, but the first girl I ever fell in love with. I haven't heard Kati's voice 60 years, but I stand by those words.
This is not to say I was a perfect companion for Kati. One night we went to a live music dance at a ballroom located at a small nearby airport. I loved dancing with Kati, and had imbibed at least my share of whatever it was under-agers had available that night. I was on top of my game. Suddenly there was a huge BOOM from the crowded dance floor (where I had lighted a cherry bomb). Kati was off talking with some girlfriends when one of them ran up to her and shrieked that "Paul's been thrown out of the hall." In fact I had. A burly security guy tossed me by the seat of my pants into the parking lot. At first I thought I had been grabbed by Herbert S. Lee, but this was not a school function. I tried to explain the huge bang surprised me, that I thought it would just be like the snap of
a lady finger, and that some other guy brought the cherry bomb in and asked me to light it, etc. But my arguments did not get me far, unless ending up far into parking lot counted.
My main concern was making a fool of myself in front of Kati, ruining our relationship. But Kati, in her forbearance, managed to emphasize the many humorous elements of the evening, and I got a hug when I took her home. My relationship with Kati seemed safe for now. But as I would soon learn, Fate held the trump cards.
I quit! I can't believe how windy I get. Even electronically. Ha. Would love to hear from any member of the Loopers
club, or just ANYBODY from the Fortier class of 1954! I'm alone now, and old stories perk me up. First Trumpet.
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