My father tossed his last curveball, hung up his cleats, and said goodbye to his baseball teammates forever. We came back to southwest Louisiana for good. We had been living in Lake Charles in the house on Foster Street during baseball’s off season for several years. Our last season was spent in Pittsburgh, where he pitched for the Pirates.
My parents broke the news that I would start third grade in a place called Westlake, a little town across the lake from Lake Charles. There was a horse, a cow with a calf, a pig, and some chickens. The house was a gabled structure, a story and a half high, sitting on three and a half acres of mostly overgrown land.
Our first trip there seemed to take forever to my eight-year-old self. I had never been so far out in the country before. We were at the very end of Westwood Road, which ran all the way through the town, starting at the lake and ending at the West Fork of the Calcasieu River.
We went into the house, looked it over, and tramped around what part of the grounds we could get to. Even at my young age I wondered what had possessed my parents to make that move.
The house, to me, was huge. Downstairs was a living room, dining room, large kitchen with breakfast nook, a den with knotty pine walls, and a big bathroom. Upstairs—three large bedrooms, a half-bath (no tub), and two attic rooms next to two of the bedrooms—hence the story and a half instead of two stories, which would have the attic above the bedrooms.
It seemed too large for just the four of us—Mama, Daddy, my three-year-old sister, Hillene, and me. That’s when I learned three more people would be arriving the next week—my grandparents and my great-grandmother would be living with us.
While I was excited about my grandparents coming to live with us, I was still apprehensive about everything else. Daddy picked me up and took me to the upstairs bedroom that would be theirs for several decades. We stood at the window and looked out.
“What do you see on the other side of those trees?” he asked.
“I see some water,” I answered.
“Let’s go have a look,” he said. We left the house and took a short walk through the woods.
That’s the first time I saw the West Fork River and that’s when I knew I was home.
I love this Mama!
Neat, huh?
Beautiful Linda. Good job.
Thanks, Chris.
Feel like I’m stepping back in time with you! Can hardly wait to hear more stories of the river and the neat family that made their home near it!
How fun, a side trip to LA! It’s a refreshing break in my day. Love your initial intro to the river, eager for more!
I’ve got to get the book out and learn to use Word Press. I didn’t know your comments were here until I logged on to moderate Mandi’s comment. I’ve got an ever-growing list of river stories.
L.
Did you see the Old Man of the River? 🙂 Love this story, Aunt Linda!
I did see the “old man” but not on the river. I’m glad you mentioned it. I’ve added it to my list.
L.
Can’t wait to hear more stories, Mama. So proud of you.
Thanks.
Great reading, Linda. I just discovered your website. It’s amazing!
Good to hear from you, Mike. I’ll be posting once a week, probably on Sunday.
Thanks for filling in the blanks before I was born into that house. The day daddy died the river was the last place he went to see. Wally
I’m adding that visit to my list.
Aunt Linda, this is so wonderful! My day is made 🙂
Thanks, Aleah. If that house and that river could talk.
I loved reading this! Your home was a landmark in Westlake…the last house before the road turned!
Thanks, Cookie.
That picture of the house is a painting done by one of my Hebert cousins who stayed with us one summer.
Linda
Thanks for ‘taking us back in time’. Wonderful memories, as a youth @ WWBC, Christmas caroling at your mom, dad’s & also your grandmother’s home.
Thanks for taking a look.
Can’t wait to read more stories Linda. Good memories there.
Thanks, Carol. My list is growing.
Very nice Linda!!
Thanks, Michelle.
Well Linda, that’s why you spent years in college while working with us. This is great! I’m very proud of you and your work. I can always say “I knew you when”. Ha! It was great working with you for ten years.
Theresa Richard
Thanks, Theresa. We had fun, didn’t we?
Linda, how do I get a copy of your book. I look forward to reading it and learning more about your family life.
Good to hear from you, Roger. The book is not published yet. Nowadays, wannabe authors need an online presence. Now that my website is up I can start sending the manuscript out and try to get someone to publish it for me. I’ll keep you posted.
Linda, I would love to get a copy of your book. Thanks & you are so smart!
Hi Billie
Good to hear from you. The book is not published yet, but I’ll let you know when it is.
Great story, Linda! And beautiful website. Heather did a fantastic job!
I really love it. I’ve been getting a lot of good feedback.
finally got to your blog. Had trouble finding it. Great read. Good memories. Looking forward to more
Glad you found it. I’ll be posting every Monday.
What a great surprise and I can remember a “LOT” of good time party’s down at the river on “the rope swing”. Life was so good back then.
I hope your first book gets published soon and you have many more just waiting to hit the book store.
Thank you for the walk down memory lane.
Jack
Hi Jackie
We had fun, didn’t we?
Linda