BEFORE I WAS LITTLE AGES ZERO THROUGH FIVE MY DADDY

My daddy was born August 7, 1912 near White Castle, Louisiana in an area referred to as "New Camp." He lived in a small shotgun one-story house in the middle of a sugar cane field with a large drainage canal running along one side of it.

Desire Franklin Raffray, Artamise Breaux Raffray, Clarence Breaux, Maude Daigle, Newton J. Raffray, Anna Sanchez Raffray, and Adam Raffray

Daddy's daddy, Adam, worked the fields nearby. They lived between highway La. 993 and highway La. 3001 on a dirt road. The old dirt road is now part of highway La. 404. The house was about one quarter mile from Rodusta's store which was located on Hw. 3001.

Daddy's momma, Anna Sanchez, was born Sept. 22, 1886, and died May 13, 1923 when daddy was twelve years old. Some years later they moved to Lone Starr into a larger house. Lone Starr is located on highway 993 about two miles farther from White Castle than the other house on the dirt road.

They moved/evacuated from Lone Starr during the 1927 high water which flooded the area and got into their house as it did everybody's in that area.

Anna Sanchez (my paternal grandmother)

In the future years, dad lived and worked on/at Richland for the Supple family as a tenant farmer and later moved to Cedar Grove Plantation where he worked for the Soniat and then the Burton families for just over forty years as an overseer and later as plantation manager. He died on December 12 in 1984 while living on Cedar Grove and still working for the heirs of the William T. Burton estate. He was 72 years old at the time of his death.

My daddy was pulled out of the 2nd grade when he was 7 years old to work in the sugar cane field by his dad who was a tenant farmer. He would deliver the breakfast and the lunches to the field workers. This entailed getting up very early in the mornings and going by every worker's house and picking up their breakfast buckets. He would deliver to the workers wherever in the field they were working then gather the pails and bring back to the worker's houses so their wives or moms would clean them to place the lunch for that day into them. Before 11 a.m., dad would again go by the workers houses and gather the lunch pails and deliver to the different areas in the field where each worker was at that time. I do not know if he had a mule to transport the food pails or had to do it all by walking but do it he did. During these old days, the workers would eat in the field where they were when the clock struck 12 noon. Come 1 p.m. all the workers went back doing their jobs be it with shovels, hoes, ditch blades, cane knives, plowing behind a mule or whatever it was they were working at. I think daddy again would collect all the lunch pails and deliver them back to their respective homes for use the next day.

This activity surly kept a little boy of 7 or 8 years old very busy for most of the daylight hours. I am sure that he had other chores around the house/yard to do also. Things like shucking, shelling and grinding corn for the chickens and guinea hens that was raised for eggs and meat to eat. Also sloping the hogs and feeding the cows and milking them, etc. etc.

There was always plenty work to do when growing up in the country or on a farm. I experience that myself as did my brother and sister and everyone else that was raised on a farm. It did not make any difference weather you owned it or not- you worked your butts off to survive.

Daddy worked for his dad until he was in his twenties. He quit working in the field one time and moved to New Orleans for about a month or so. He got a job in a factory and was doing really good. Since he knew how to work and was a hard worker, he got several promotions in the short time he worked there. I often wondered what kind of life I would have had if grandpa would not have gone to New Orleans and begged daddy to come back to the farm because he just could not make the crop without him. Of course daddy quit the job and came back to the White Castle area. His boss in New Orleans was sorry to see him go.

Daddy and momma were married and grandpa would pay daddy 25 cents a week. This is what daddy used to tell us. I do not know if this was salary or just expense money. Daddy should have been a partner with his dad. But I don't think that he was. Maybe the 25 cents was just spending money so dad and mom could go paint the town red when not having to work on a weekend. Even during my time spent with my grandpa, he was kind of tight with money. Maybe that was because he never had very much of it during his lifetime.

Daddy lived on Cedar Grove in 1927 and worked with his dad farming part of the land from 1928 to 1942. At this time, I believe he went to Supple plantation (also called Catherine Plantation), to farm for two years as a tenant farmer before moving back to Cedar Grove in February 1944 to start working as and overseer for the owners at that time. Daddy told me that he left Supple after having a falling out with their Field Supervisor who tried to tell him when and how to work the land. Mr. Callegan was trying to force his will upon my daddy and he would not have any of it.

The Burton-Sutton Oil Company purchased Cedar Grove plantation at an auction in New Orleans in 1939 from the L.M. Soniat family who had owned it since before 1920. Sometime in the 1950s, the property was transferred to William T. Burton Industries Inc. Daddy was one of the overseers and stayed on to work for the new owners. Daddy became plantation manager for Cedar Grove Plantation in 1961.

Momma was born in Grosse Tete (pronounced Grow State), Louisiana, on September 29, 1914. Her daddy, Anthony Correl, (born 1889, died 1944), was a sugar cane tenant farmer there. My momma's mom, Josephine Quatrevingt was born 1893, and died in 1917), when my momma was three or four years old. Momma's brother, Nolan, was about two years old at the time. Momma always said that she thought her momma knew that she was dying because several weeks before she died, she dressed herself and the kids and went to town and had a photograph made of her. This is something that cost much money at the time and she did not care to have done before this time in her life.

Momma's grandparents on her daddy's side were Ernest Correl and Pauline Quatrevingt. We do not have the years of birth or death only the year married which was December 31, 1884.

Momma's grandparents on her mother's side were Oscar Quatrevingt (born 1852, died 1930) and Juliet Himel, (no other info). Momma used to tell me that her grandmother Himel's family used to own Ceily Plantation near Thibodeaux, Louisiana. It consisted of over 3000 acres of land. It was a large sugarcane plantation with its own sugar mill. They lost the plantation because of a few dollars owed to creditors. In those days, the High Sheriff would take your property to pay creditors. It did not make any difference how much you owed. You could owe $500 and your property worth $5000. They would take the whole thing to pay the debt. A new law came into effect in the 1950s that changed this forever. The property went to a Sheriff's sale to the highest bidder. Any money left over went to the family whose property they took and sold. This change in the law was many years too late to help the Himel family. When I was a teenager, the Harvey Peltier family of Thibodeaux owned this plantation. I do not know if these are the folks who got it for near nothing or acquired it later.

My momma told me that she learned to speak in Spanish before she learned English and some Cajun French. During her adult years she could not speak or understand Spanish anymore. I guess they quit speaking Spanish when she was very young. Momma also told us the story of her daddy's people and how an ancestor left Spain for the United States when he was a teenager because he did not want to serve seven years in the Spanish Navy. Upon arrival in America, he changed his name from Corallas to Correl. Maybe to cover his tracks or perhaps it was just the spelling of the person checking him in that misspelled his name.

Momma's momma has a similar story in her family's history. Her ancestor upon arrival into the United States, name was changed from Schwab to Quatrevingt. He was supposedly from France. We were told he was from a French/German border town. Upon arrival into America, the person checking them in could not understand what he was saying and since he was the eightieth person to step off the boat he became Eighty. Quatrevingt in French is the number eighty.

We do not know where in America that my Momma's folks entered. I surmise that it was New Orleans only because of the close proximity to the area that they settled in.

My Momma's Daddy and his sister (Correl) married a brother and sister (Quatrevingt). The off-springs from these two marriages are double first cousins which makes them my double second cousins and their off spring (my age) my double third cousins.

On my grandmother's deathbed, she asked her best friend, Maude Fleming to look after and marry my momma's daddy. This is the way that I remember my momma telling me this story.

Maude did marry my grandpa Tony some time after my grandma died. They had two girls and a boy. They were named Mildred, Muriel, and Anthony Jr.

Some years later, my grandpa Tony got injured some way and was laid up for years in the bed. He never did recover and died at 55 years of age.

During the early years of my grandpa's second marriage, to Mama Maude, my momma and Uncle Nolan went to live with Nan Noon and Paran Charlie Ponsano at Richland. Nan Noon and Paran Charlie never had any children. Nan Noon was grandpa Tony's sister-in-law. She was my grandma's sister. I guess Mama Maude had her hands full with her three kids and allowed/wanted momma and Unc to live somewhere else. Maybe the house was too small. I just don't know.

Momma often told me of the times when she and Uncle Nolan were in grade school and how he did not like school and sometimes made her miss the bus ride to school. I am not sure if the "bus" was pulled by mule/horse or not. Unc would make her hide in the woods or in a culvert with him until after the bus went by. Nan Noon must have just let this go on or did not know anything about it. I do not remember what grade mom was in when she quit going to school. She could read and write very well and was a first class seamstress.

Momma and Uncle Nolan lived with Nan Noon until they were in their late teens. Momma married daddy and Unc went into the Army. He served over four years during WWII. He was in the second Wave during the Allied invasion at Normandy Beach, France. He once told me that the first Wave had over 90% causalities. He received a number of metals for his wartime service. I remember seeing them stored in an old cigar box when I was a kid. I do not know what happened to his metals or what they were for.

I am really saddened when I think about this now. We could never get him to talk about what he seen and had been through. He came home to become a first rate auto mechanic for the Doiron brothers Plymouth dealership for almost 45 years.

After momma and daddy married, they moved in with my daddy's dad and grandpa and their wives. For a time they had three generations of Raffrays living in one small frame house. This had to be very hard for my momma. Eventually, I do not know when, they got their own place to live. Wherever and whenever it was, Uncle Nolan lived with them before the war and also after the war. He was my roommate for the first 24 and a half years of my life - until I got married and moved out.

WHEN I WAS LITTLE THE BIRTH AND CIRCUMCISION

I was born a little boy on the 18th day of May in 1943. This was during the time of the Big War- WW II of course. I did not know anything about that at the time. I came to learn about it in the years to come.

I am told that I was a big little boy at birth. Well over eight pounds and something. My momma, being a small woman, about five foot two inches, must have hollowed a lot to get me out of there. They say she did not know where she was till three or two days later. I do not know if this is true or not, but if I would have gone through what she did, I would have wanted a lot of drugs and would not know where I am at either.

After about four or three days, I had to be circumcised. Because that is what you have to do if you are born a little Catholic boy. The Catholics have this law and you better follow it. It states that all boys must be circumcised or else. I never did learn what the "or else" meant. I didn't think I wanted to know bad enough to go around asking grown-ups.

Little Catholic girls don't have to go through that because they don't have, ooooooooh well, aaaaah, they don't got- well because they just don't got to go through that procedure. I came to find out many years later that little girls come in the world looking like everything was cut off already anyway.

When I got the procedure, old Dr. Tomney, he gave me just three drops of wine to knock me out. He should have known that was just not enough wine for a big little Cajun boy to not feel anything. I am gonna toll you something. I believe that I felt the whole thing the whole time that I was under the knife. I think that I kicked old Dr. Tomney so hard that he slipped and took off more than he should have. All my life since that day, I felt like Dr. Tomney short changed me just because he got kicked. He should have known that three drops of wine for an eight plus pound Cajun boy was just not enough to make him don't feel anything. I think a fifth would have been better and done the trick. Then I would not have to be carrying this grudge against old Dr. Tomney around with me all these years.

THE BAPTISM

There come a time when I was a couple of months or weeks old that I had to be baptize. You cannot be a Catholic unless you got baptize. To get baptize, you must have your Momma and Daddy nearby and you got to have a Nan Nan and Paran that will stand in for your Momma and Daddy if something bad happened to them and they don't be around anymore. If something bad like that happen to your parents, your Nan Nan and Paran promised to raise you to be a good little Catholic boy. Make you go to church on Sunday and put money in the collection and everything like that.

After you got a Nan Nan and a Paran all set up, you got to get a name for the baby. Not just any name, but a proper name. If you are a little boy, you got to have a man saint name in your name. Your know like- Peter, Paul, Mark, Anthony, James, etc. If you are a little girl, you got to get a lady saint name in your name like- Mary, Marie, Ann, Elizabeth, Joan, etc., like that.

My Daddy wanted to name me Lawton after the name of one of the owners of the sugar cane plantation that he worked for. My Momma said NO. She did not want my name to be Lawton because the other little children will call me Crawton, which means a turd, and she was not going to have that. Well the name thing became a problem. When they got to the church where my baptism has to take place, they had a name for me. It was Barry Franklin Raffray. At the Church, they ran into a problem with the priest with the name they had picked. My first name Barry, the priest wanted Bartholomew. But again, my Momma said NO. It will be Barry not no Bartholomew. The priest decided to take Barry. My second name "Franklin," after my Daddy's Daddy's Daddy (another way to put this is my Daddy's Grandpa), was not a Saint name and the priest barked at this. I can remember this like it was the day before yesterday because, after all, I was there. The priest, he say that there is no Saint Frank or no Saint Franklin, so they got to come up with another name or they will not be a baptism today. Well, my Momma and Daddy, and my to be Nan Nan and Paran, and some other folks like my big brother Put and my big sister Bobbie Jo (now that is another baptism story) was all there (I think) and they come up with Anthony, which was my Momma's Daddy's name. Since there is a St. Anthony, that name got the approval of the priest. But now, Momma and Daddy did not want to drop my other name and that is how I got baptized as Barry Franklin Anthony Raffray. Now you know why none of my sons are called Junior. I did not want to put this name on them to carry the rest of their life.

This is not the entire story yet. Since my baptism, I got some more names and today, you can call me Barry, Franklin, Frankie, Anthony, Tony, Butch, Rock, Rockbeau, Raff, Peter, Bro, Raffray or any one or a combination of those names will do and that is the rest of this story.