The day I met Earl K. Long
At the time, I was a 12 year old and lived in Vivian, Louisiana in north Caddo Parish. Late that summer, signs went up around the Dixie Drug that Earl Long would make an appearance one evening.
Now we all knew that Uncle Earl was crazy. This was well documented. Earlier in the summer, he had been committed to the state hospital at Mandeville. That didn’t last long, however, as he fired the head of the state hospital system, who fired the head of the hospital who had refused to release him. A new director was appointed and the governor was discharged from care.
He also went on a trip through the west with the national press following every move. His actions were controversial. He had been diagnosed as bi-polar, and to really tip the canoe, he was taking amphetamines to keep him going 24/7. And of course, there was Blaze Starr, a (to the eyes of a 12 year old) glamorous entertainer from New Orleans. We knew about his doings.
It may seem strange in today’s context that a 12 year old was familiar with these events, but remember the times. We had no video games and no computers. I always watched the news, and even read the newspapers. I loved this stuff.
On the appointed evening, I talked my mother into letting me ride my bike 7 or 8 blocks to attend the affair. This was no small feat in itself, as my mother’s family had never been keen on the Longs. She was from an old Bossier Parish family, and they didn’t believe in all this carousing and flamboyance. But I prevailed and was able to attend, and what an affair it was, a good old-fashioned stump speech right there on the sidewalk in front of the drugstore.
A crowd of about 40 or so was gathered and waiting when the big black Oldsmobile pulled up with a state trooper driving. Uncle Earl got out, wearing a trademark white suit and panama hat, took off his coat and threw it into the car and began working the crowd.
There was a little peanut stand set up on the corner. Roasted peanuts were 10 cents per bag.
My moment of glory came when Earl K Long, the Governor of Louisiana, this glorious, crazy man, called to me. When I went over to him in response to his call, he handed me a one dollar bill and instructed me to buy 10 bags of peanuts and pass them out to all the kids. As I passed out the gubernatorial goobers, Uncle Earl hitched his thumbs in his suspenders and set in to talking.
He assured the old people, who made up most of the crowd, that he would personally assure them that they would all enjoy a $65 per month state pension. They had given their lives and their labor to make the ‘fat cats’ rich and now they would get their rewards. All they had to do was vote for Noe and Long.
As the sun went down and the Oldsmobile drove off, my moment of glory began to fade. A few minutes earlier, I had been personally appointed an important task by none other than the governor. A few minutes earlier I was having a heady ride on the coattails of history. Now I was just me again.
James Noe and Earl Kemp Long lost the election that fall. In 1960, Earl Long ran for congress in the old 8th district and won the Democratic nomination, which was tantamount to winning the election.
He died from a heart attack within days.