Felix D'Abadie Bio, Pointe Coupee Parish, La. File submitted by James Dabadie ------------------------------------------------------------------ ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------------- FELIX D'ABADIE (1892 1966) By Bernice S. D'Abadie December 1998 Felix D'Abadie did not have a middle name which may be one reason he kept the apostrophe in his name after his brothers stopped using it. He was a student and a teacher all of his life. Felix attended LSU long before it was an easy thing to do. He lived in the barracks when LSU was located on the Capital grounds in Baton Rouge, La. He graduated in 1912 with a Bachelor of Science in Agriculture. Later he did graduate work at LSU and had the equivalent of a master's degree. Felix taught himself classic economics and philosophy when he traveled as an agricultural agent for the Southern Pacific Railroad. Each night while on the road, he did not join other traveling men in the lobby or bar of the hotel, but studied texts he had bought, or non-fiction works, which he borrowed. His personal library was filled with such books, heavily underlined and well worn. Felix was first a school teacher and county agent in Pointe Coupee Parish. County agents were instrumental in helping farmers in the area be more efficient and better producers and businesspersons. He later was a county agent in Evangeline Parish and taught vocational agriculture in Mamou High School. In 1924 Felix D'Abadie began work as one of the pioneer railroad agricultural agents in Louisiana and Texas. He worked for Southern Pacific Railroad until his retirement in 1956. His job was to increase the amount of agricultural produce shipped by the railroad. Felix was good at public relations and taught farmers how to better farm. He was in the forefront of developing new strains and seed for better crops in Louisiana and parts of Texas. His work in developing new varieties of tomatoes, sweet potatoes and green beans was widely heralded. He also received honors for his work with tick eradication. He was often asked to speak at conventions and seminars, as he was knowledgeable and entertaining. Felix had a quick wit and could take and give as well as he got. During his railroad career he met many that were hecklers for various reasons. One was an agricultural agent for the Missouri Pacific Railroad, a competitor. The man told the Southern Pacific treasurer that he was waiting to see Felix D'Abadie breed square cabbages to they could pack more in the box cars. The message was relayed with much general amusement, but Felix was equal to a snappy reply. He sent word back, "I'm not half so worried about square cabbages as the Missouri Pacific agent is in planting tomatoes along the track right-of-way. Those Missouri Pacific trains are so late, they have to run through tomato patches to make 'catch-up'." The D'Abadie family lived in Houma, Louisiana during the Great Depression. Felix never felt economically secure enough to buy a house. To have a steady job was a luxury. In 1942 the railroad transferred Felix to the regional office in Houston. Inflation had begun to take root and living in Houston was more expensive. The family suffered through several penny pinching years before Southern Pacific finally raised the pay of the senior agricultural agent above $400 a month. Felix was never a wealthy man as measured by money, but he was wealthy in acquaintances, associates, and friends with whom he generously shared his talents. He made contributions in many different ways. At retirement Felix expected a party and a gold watch. Instead, the office gave him a party and a strato lounge chair. All he could say was, "I'm still on my feet but I may need this later." He remained active for a number of years and passed his learning on in many ways. He was asked to give a talk about living in "early days" to his granddaughter, Nancy's 5th grade class. He explained the 18th, 19th and 20th Century nomenclature to the young students this way. "Even though it is 1958, we call it the 20th Century. If you have $19.59 cents in your pocket, you have already passed $19 and are on your way to $20. Centuries work the same way." Felix enjoyed telling stories, and two stories, which made a lasting, lifetime impression on him, were written and included in this biographical sketch. He loved history and I have included an article Felix wrote about Bayou Lafourche. _____________________________________________________________ -People in The News (Southern Pacific Bulletin October 1953) PRESIDING OVER the 25th annual meeting of the Railway Agricultural Agent's Association in New Orleans, is Felix D'Abadie (seated center), SP agricultural agent. Standing L. to R. Admiral W.·F. Riggs, executive vice president, New Orleans Chamber of Commerce; B. B. Jones, county agent, New Orleans; S. L. Wright, T&P; J. E. Power, L&N; and W. H. Stakelum, SP general freight agent, Seated are H, C. Sanders, director of extension service, LSU, Mr. D'Abadie, and J. G. Lee, dean of LSU's College of Agriculture. ________________________________________________________________ Felix D'Abadie Retires from Southern Pacific Railroad (From SP Bulletin February 1956) Honored by Texas agricultural leaders at a luncheon in Houston on February 7 was Felix D'Abadie, SP agricultural agent who retired recently after 30 years service. Present at the luncheon were Dan Clinton, Harris County agricultural agent; Vice President B. F. Biaggini and other SP representatives; the agricultural agents of three other railroads, civic and university leaders, and members of the agricultural press. Mr. D'Abadie began his career as 4-H Club agent for Pointe Coupee Parish in Louisiana following his graduation from Louisiana State University. He served as county agent at Ville Platte, La., and later as a vocational agricultural teacher at Mamou, La. prior to joining SP as agricultural agent in 1925. Long a leader in his field, Mr. D'Abadie organized the Louisiana Farm Bureau Federation in the early '20's. He was one of the founders of the Louisiana Railway Agricultural Agents Association, serving as its chairman on several occasions, the last time being in 1955. He also received honors for his work in tick eradication, in the development of the tomato industry in Texas and the sweet potato industry in Louisiana. __________________________________________________________________ STANDARD OIL COMPANY-OF LOUISIANA LOUISIANA SALES DIVISION INTER-OFFICE CORRESPONDENCE Houma, Louisiana, July 22nd. 1942. My dear Friend Dab: We are all telling you good-bye, but how in the hell can a fellow tell another good-bye when that other is in California one day, and when you ask him how is California, he tells you he's just back from Point-Au-Chien. How can your wife tell when you are "at home"? When you live in Houma you stay in the West Coast Valleys, so if you live in Houston, you might stay in the Terrebonne alluvials, so why are a bunch of us sticking our necks out telling you good-bye, and when a fellow like you is told good-bye that good-bye entails a review of your accomplishments in our local community which have tentacles extending from Maine to California. (Always Westward, my Boy). And then, when this fellow has told you how much he thinks about you, and how much you have done in furthering the cream and nectar lands of this great country, and tells you all about how much you are going to be missed, and how we hate to see you go, and how our local community and organizations will feel the absence of your gemly leadership (which is a helluva lot more than "He / She had pretty teeth"), and then Felix might be looking you in the eye every Wednesday noon for the next twenty years. So, I say my friend, Au Revoir! A man who has set such roots in our locality has got to come back. We know we will have frequent visits from you, to which we are all looking forward, and that some day D'Abadie will come home to roost, and when you do come back, you will have had the opportunity of seeing all of our trees because you will have been in the forests of human alleviation, a forest in which you rank as the Daniel Boone of today in my book. I am sorry that you will be thrown in contact with new people, because it takes years for a fellow to find out how deep you run, and he will never learn it from you, but will have to pick it up from your fellow-man who has seen what you can do, so I say, I wish all of your new contacts could profit by the years we have known you, and learned to go to you for guidance, no matter what the problem. As all things progressive move westwardly, you have gone. Keep punching, my friend, and the best of luck to you, Sincerely, Leon Gary ____________________________________________________________ "I'M OFF TO THE BULLRUSHES" A FeIix D'Abadie story transcribed by Bernice D'Abadie, 1956. "Bull" Aguillard was a hulk of a man, uneducated, never serious and always broke. He was the husband of Eugenie Fabre's half sister and brother of Ida Aguillard who married Lamar Jewell. Of all Bull's practical jokes, the most humorous concerned Theophile Mars and his mule. Theophile was a hermit who lived in the backlands of the Island. He came to New Roads only a few times a year with his mule to buy staples. One summer the season had been exceptionally dry. Cisterns were empty and wells went dry. Families living on the banks of False River were desperate for water. False River had dried up considerably with only water left out in the middle of the channel. To save time and effort, the home owners dug ditches from the middle of the channel back to the bank in front of their houses and made water holes from which it was easy to dip a bucket of water. Throughout the summer the water holes and ditches became deeper to get the water from mid-channel. As the autumn season came, the heat lifted and the rain came at last. It did not take long for the cisterns to fill up, the wells to be replenished and for False River to rise to a normal level covering all the ditches and water holes. One morning Theophile came out of the wilderness riding his mule. Bull was up and doing nothing in particular when he saw Theophile come down the road. "Theophile," he hollered. "Where you go, Man?" "I go to New Roads, me" Bull continued, "Man, today she be hot. What for you don't give your mule some water?" Theophile looked agreeable and headed his mule out beyond the bank of False River a little. Bull, Knowing the underwater typography said, "A little to the right, Theophile, a little to the right. The water, she is better there." Thoephile rode a little to the right. "A little more to the right, Theophile." SPLASH, -- BUBBLE, BUBBLE - GURLE ---GURGLE --i--#@%&* Bull doubled himself in laugher --- a roaring belly laugh. The mule and his rider had dropped off into an old water hole. "And when they came up, the mule he had perches in his ears and Theophile look like a mermaid draped in sea weed", Bull always said. The sad day finally came when bull's joking nature was his undoing. He got into an argument with a neighbor, Camille Gremillion. Before he walked off he threatened, "Camille, for next time I see you in town, me, I'm going to buggy whip you." No one ever knew if Bull was serious or not, but Camille, like other men of his day knew that to be buggy whipped was a worse insult than a hurt. Camille carried a pistol the next time he went to New Roads. As chance would have it, he met Bull in the General Store where Charles Dabadie worked. Bull, when he saw Camille enter the door, reached over to the stock of buggy whips and pulled one out As he turned, Camille drew his gun and fired. Bull was mortally wounded. As uncle Charley raised Bull's head to make him a little more comfortable, Bull, knowing he was dying, whispered, "I'm taking to the bull rushes." In that place and time, when youngsters got in trouble with their parents and knew they would be whipped for some misdoing, many would hide out amid the bull rushes in the swamp for a day or a night in hopes their parent's wrath would cool. To take to the bull rushes was the final resort for salvation. __________________________________________________________________ Fire at Ville Platte A Felix D'Abadie story transcribed by Bernice D'Abadie, 1956 It was a pleasant evening in Ville Platte, La. that spring of 1920, just right for visiting. The D'Abadie family, Felix, Christine, John and Gerry couldn't resist the fun of spending the before-bedtime-hours on the broad front porch of the Dores. The grown-up conversation hummed gently along like a hummingbird getting its fill of a honeysuckle blossom. Suddenly the church bell of this small town of French tradition began to DONG-DONG-DONG. It continued. Felix and Mr. Dore knew something must be wrong, whatever the emergency, it was not obvious. They arose from their chairs and walked the block to the business district. People were scurrying toward the dance hall. It was in the second story of a jerrybuilt frame building above a local cafe of "dirty" reputation. The building was on fire. Only minutes before, families had been dancing to the stomping beat of the local bayou band. The extra ladies had been sitting on benches around the edges of the room. Below, the cook had just thrown onto the hamburger grill a few chunks of ground meat and had mashed them down. Then he lighted the kerosene burner. Fire jumped straight up the wall, following old grease spatters. The flooring above did not extend all the way to the outside wall. It lacked six inches as though the builder someday planned to add interior walls and didn't want to waste a single 1" x 6". The women sitting on the bench above the stove began to feel warm. Suddenly they knew their long skirts were on fire. Someone yelled, "FIRE". The stampede was on! As everyone rushed for the stairs, no one recalled that in walking up, the steps creaked and groaned. They wobbled and sagged a little if several people were on them at the same time. No one thought of anything except the word, "FIRE", and the small flames they had seen creep up the skirts of the sitters. Down the avalanche poured. Immediately the stairs fell with a small crash that sounded more like a sigh of resentment. Still the horde came. People fell on people, one dozen followed by another. The rest then jumped on the felled mass and ran out the door. This was the era before Ville Platte had a fire department. The people did not think they would ever have need of one. When Felix and Mr. Dore got there, victims were scattered out on the street and in the area surrounding the building. They were burned; some had collapsed and some were dying. Felix picked up a man near the entrance to move him farther away. As he lifted him over his shoulder, the man groaned and expired. Felix saw a large group of bodies lying in the hall at the foot of the broken stairs. He also saw two hoses, gushing water, lying idly by that had probably been used at the beginning of the fire and abandoned. Being a fighter, he felt the surge of wrath which spurs some when it comes to endangering fire. He yelled to a man, "Grab that hose and keep me wet! Felix snatched the other hose and climbed half way up the doorframe. He doesn't remember how he did it, or what kept him there. It was getting hot! He began wetting down the mass of humanity in front of him to keep them from catching afire in case they were alive. Embers were falling now. One you robust girl was caught in the heap of humans up to her waist. Her legs may have been broken or she may have been wedged in so tight she couldn't move. She held out her arms and her eyes said, "Help me, Save me." Felix encouraged aloud, "We'll get you." As the heat became stifling the smoke suffocating, many people lost courage. Some had been coming through under Felix's legs to carry out the victims. How, they had quit. Just before the roof fell in, Felix heard a crack and jumped back. He was almost caught by the pyrotechnic mass of as it shot flames skyward. The jumbled huddle of people could not be saved, even though someone held a hose on them from a distance in hopes of keeping them wet. The fire became hotter and pushed everyone back. The building really began to burn then. There were no adjacent buildings, but the houses across the street and the stores were getting so hot, the paint was smoldering the buildings were faintly smoking. Felix ran to the doctor's house near-by, for he knew there was a long hose lying in the garden. Running back and recruiting a helper or two from the gallery of stunned and fire petrified human beings, they wet down the fronts of the buildings and the stores were saved. After the ashes had cooled the toll was 27 people. Christine and her sister, Agnes, and all the ladies in town who could get away from their homes and families spent the rest of the night nursing the burned and injured. They were not counted, but cots overflowed the schoolhouse where an emergency hospital was set up. This disaster was the push which was needed to start a fire department. Mamou, a little town near-by, set up a fire-fighting unit shortly after that also. _______________________________________________________________________________