Loulan Pitre
Well, it's hilarious -- it's funny. Although it was tragic then, it's funny now. One man, he was about twenty-four. Not an old man. . . . Maybe younger than that. And he had been given up for lost. And this goes six, seven days after the storm. They'd just about accounted for everybody they'd hoped to find. And a lot of people had gone up on the rooftops into the Gulf a mile or so. But they got picked up. Or they floated back into the beach. But this fellow, no. And nobody had seen him during the storm. Lo and behold, about three weeks later, he comes in -- in one of those freight boats that was hauling ice . . . and food to Grand Isle for these people that'd been hurt bad. He's a passenger and he makes his way back to Cheniere. "Hey, what in the world happened to you?" [he was asked.] "Well," he said, "I'll tell you what. I spent seven days on a door and a door frame, floating, lying on it." "And, well, how did you survive?" "Well, I kept hearing this singing." He said they had some mermaids or something singing all the time. "And it kept me alive." And they laughed, you know? And he said, "No, no, I saw them. They were singing just for me. They'd come there and swim around and sing." And one day, he was semiconscious, and he heard some racket, and there was a bunch of Portuguese, and the little yard boat was picking him up. And it was a Portuguese sloop that had seen him on that door and stopped. And that sloop was loaded with salted pork going into New Orleans. And that's a "miracle" he got saved. And he couldn't believe his -- And my daddy said, when they tried to talk to him and really get the story out of him, all he'd remembered was the singing. That's all he'd want to talk about. Beautiful. Beautiful voices. And evidently, he lived a nice long life because he moved to Golden Meadow afterwards, bought land, and raised a big family, this fellow. But he never forgot his ordeal on that door.
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