BILL STAFFORD, A HERO OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU History; Cameron Parish, Louisiana Submitted by Kathy LaCombe-Tell Source: W. T. Block, Historian Submitted: July 10, 2004 ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** BILL STAFFORD, A HERO OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU By W. T. Block One does not expect to find heroes during a natural disaster such as a giant hurricane, and if one did appear, there would be little time for commendations or hand-clapping. And Bill Stafford of Johnson's Bayou, La. knew he had all of the imperfections of Huckleberry Finn or Tam O'Shanter, and few, if any, of the attributes of the legendary George Washington. When Bill saw one of the ladies of Radford or Johnson's Bayou snickering or whispering to a child, he knew that nothing good was being said about him. Perhaps the Galveston Daily News described Bill's incivilities the best in its issue, datelined Radford, La., Oct. 17, 1886, as follows: "Bill Stafford worked as a field laborer in Johnson's Bayou. He had the reputation of being the roughest man in the community. He loved whiskey and fighting. He stands more than six feet high, and is a giant in strength. According to all accounts, his temper did not attract to him many friends, and he is dissolute and quarrelsome. He worked from place to place and did not remain with any employer very long." Bill's bouts with drunkenness and ill-temperament were usually limited to Saturday nights, when he had a few coins in his pocket for whiskey. He spent his Sundays sobering up and enduring his intense hangovers. Since farm labor was usually scarce in the community, he often found some one to employ him for at least a week, plowing, chopping, or picking cotton, or other activity. Invariably, some mother considered Bill's presence an evil influence on impressionable children, and Bill's work tenure was cut short. In the fall of 1886, Johnson's Bayou had reached the apex of its cotton-producing history, with 1,200 residents supporting the two small communities of Radford and Johnson's Bayou. Cotton was truly king, and there were also several gins and sugar mills, ready to harvest the 600 acres of cotton and 200 acres of sugar cane. However, almost nothing would survive alive, after the nine-foot tidal wave swept across Johnson's Bayou on the night of October 12, 1886. About October 8th, Bill Stafford had verbally contracted to rebuild a long fence for Ralph Hackett, and he apparently was performing his chores adequately. About 4 PM of October 12, when Hackett and his wife saw a dark cloud hovering over the gulf waters, they hurriedly entrusted their two toddlers to Stafford's care, while they drove their buggy to Cas Peveto's store to buy groceries. Instead, the storm soon trapped the parents inside the Peveto store, as the Galveston Daily News article reported: "Bill Stafford was working for Ralph Hackett, building fence. Hackett and his wife went into Radford that afternoon, leaving two children, one a boy of 2 years and the other a girl of four, in Stafford's care. When the flood waters rose, he took the two children upstairs. When it continued to rise, brawling Bill grew nervous. He lifted the two children, one on each shoulder, and vacated the house." "The water by then was up to his waist and rolling furiously. He headed for the nearest tree and was thrown down twice, each time the children being wrenched from him, but he recovered them and climbed the tree." "For four hours, he remained in the tree with his helpless charges, when a blast of wind knocked them off. He caught one of them and also a piece of floating debris. He held the back of the child's dress in his teeth, held the debris with one hand, made a lunge for the other child, and caught it." "Fourteen hours later, a relief party found Bill and the two children, all of them alive, but incoherent. The little boy died a few hours after being found, but Bill and the girl will recover. Bill was acquainted with the children he struggled so nobly to save for only four days. The parents of the children were found alive, but more than ten miles apart, when the waters receded." The story of Johnson's Bayou in 1886 is only too reminiscent with that of Cameron in 1957. The subsequent fate of Bill Stafford is unknown, but apparently he evacuated to Orange with the other refugees, and never returned to Johnson's Bayou. In the aftermath of the storm, Jeremiah Quinn was found some days later, still clutching the body of his wife with one hand and running his fingers through her blonde tresses with the other. Although she had been dead for at least 48 hours, he still moaned, "Cheer up, Mary dear! We'll make it!" Little Hancock Paisley floated ten miles on a feather bed, but his mother, father, and all siblings drowned. Seventeen small children lost both parents, and 20 parents lost all of their children. None, or no more than one, survived of the following families: Joseph Paisley, J. Quinn, F. Gallier, S. Gallier, (8 children of) Sam Brown, Joseph Luke, Frank Tanner, Owen Jones, George Stephens, Wm. Ferguson, George Smith, Michael Wagley, Alfred Lambert, James Hawkins, R. Berry, Adam Smith, Dick Hambrick, Alphonse DeGard, Jack Lewis, James Lewis, E. Fanchett, and Henry Johnson. Altogether, 110 persons drowned. At least a dozen severe hurricanes have buffeted Johnson's Bayou between September, 1865 and Hurricane Audrey in 1957. And like Sabine Pass, Johnson's Bayou has always had a nucleus of nestors that cling to the bayou like barnacles on a boat's bottom. In 1887, only six families returned to Johnson's Bayou to live, but by 1894, there were 57 families, totaling 400 persons, living there. Today's greatest boon to the residents of the bayou are Highway 82 and the Sabine Lake causeway, which enable them to evacuate to safety in an hour's time. Like the populace of Cameron, they know only too well that a severe hurricane can be terribly costly in human life.