Regan Jones
Ms. Lei Lani Michel
English 1001
8 October 2007

We all have our familiar hurricane Katrina stories filled with loss, despair, and no apparent light at the end of the tunnel. For some, it was a bad situation turned worse; for others, what at first seemed as a no way out type of story turned into the best possible outcome despite the road blocks in place. As I ventured out for a positive, influential character set in the backdrop of the worst natural disaster to ever to hit the U.S. Mac Alsfeld is a nineteen-year old sophomore at LSU who also has a similar story to many New Orleans residents. I met him through the fraternity that I am currently pledging. Born and raised in New Orleans, Mac was forced to relocate into a new town as a result of the damages hurricane Katrina left on his home. Prior to this, it was his senior year at Jesuit High School; but due to his high school reopening in Houston, Texas, his family decided to enroll him in University High School of Baton Rouge. Despite the move to a new school, Mac found himself adapting quickly with his new classmates and a new Baton Rouge lifestyle.
The first thing that stood out to me was his demeanor towards fraternity rushing. He went through the motions, preaching to me all the B.S. things he was obligated to say in hopes that I would pledge his fraternity. I could tell he was a character right off the bat, always having something to say, never seeming to shut up. Mac is the type of guy to crack a joke even in the most serious of situations. Everyone sees him as off the wall and a crazy, lovable goofball. Alongside him is his big brother Clark, who seems as more of a sidekick rather than a responsible older sibling. I caught him telling a story to some of the others going through rush about his younger brother clogging the toilet of his aunt’s personal yacht as Mac kept chiming in with this own defense to the attack. They seemed to make an impression throughout the room, during the early days of rush.
Hockey in my opinion is more of northern sport that does not particularly interest me too much. Mac has been playing hockey for most of his life, and he made me promise that I write about his all-star days in the sport. He plays both roller and ice hockey, and in his own words is currently the best player to ever play the sport. When Mac was in high school his roller hockey team was number two in the nation his sophomore and junior year. He also went on to add that the only reason they were not number one was because he had gotten hurt, and missed a few games. If Mac would have been playing, he expressed that the champ could have won them by himself. I personally think he is just full of bull on all this, but he was adamant about me portraying him as the “best hockey player of all time”.
Mac also is extremely involved in the filming industry. He is currently employed by the production company Louisiana Media Productions. He has worked with countless high profile celebrities such as Bernie Mac, Ciara, and Frankie Muniz. Throughout his childhood, Mac grew up making homemade movies with his friends and family. He comes from a home that is also highly involved in the filming industry. As a side project, his dad owns a production company that is currently producing the new Reggie Bush commercials. His aunt is fairly well-known actress, Patricia Clarkson, who has been featured in over thirty films. Mac hopes to one day own and operate his own production company.
As this hockey legend turned film god went to show me a couple of his movies that he had created, I quickly realized his films were more than just his talk. They exhibited the experience that he holds in his hobby. He wrote, filmed, and edited each of his videos. Mac told me that he mostly did these for fun or school projects. With his major being English I began to wonder why he is not a film major or chose a school that offers that. He said he has always loved to write, and the experience of working at a real production company would teach him more than any film school could. With LSU not offering film as a major, English relates the most to it.
The conversation took a dramatic turn when I brought up the topic of his evacuation during hurricane Katrina. He and his whole family decided to pick up and move everything to his older sister’s two bedroom apartment on LSU’s campus. Mac, his mom, his dad, his dog Tootsie, and a Kenner politician were squeezed into a college type apartment with his sister of two and a half months. The one positive event during this time was his enrollment into University High School. This kept him busy all day rather than sitting around dwelling on the situation he was facing. Mac’s grandmother was a city councilwoman for New Orleans and the only politician to stay during the storm with Mayor Nagan. He said “My whole family was really scared. We did not hear from her for a week or so, and had no clue as to what had happened to her.” Once his grandmother returned to safety in Baton Rouge, Mac’s family felt somewhat at ease with the situation. His home was damaged during the hurricane when his neighbor’s tree was thrown through his house, but the Kenner politician they sheltered provided them with early access into the city to check on there home. The daunting task would come later in their lives when the Alsfeld’s used the summer to rebuild their home. Mac turned what could have been a cry for help senior year into some of the best days of his high school career. He expressed his deepest respect and appreciation for the students of UHigh for taking him in, accepting him, and distracting him from the real terrors that most of his other friends faced when they relocated with Jesuit to Houston. He ended what he described to me as an incredible year when Mac graduated from University High School.
My perception of my interviewee has changed since I met him a few months back. At first I saw him as simply a comical, comfortably outgoing goof ball. He was always cracking a joke no matter what the situation became, and gave his thought on everything within the realm of stupidity crossed with his own take on factuality. After my interview with him, I came to realize he is much more than just a regular frat guy. Mac is an extremely talented writer and filmmaker who will one day be producing high budget movies with star actors. His family went through great hardships in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. I know that any normal teenager would have a hard time moving to a new school and meeting hundreds of new people. Mac said by the time he graduated, his reputation got him the votes as the class clown and hairiest boy at University High School. It sounds like he sure made a fast impression in a short amount of time. I would have never expected him to be such an “all-star” hockey player, as he put it. Sometimes you can not judge a person until you walk a mile in his shoes, but a walk from New Orleans to Baton Rouge in the shoes of a senior high school student that has to support the weight of a city and a lifestyle completely uprooted from his sense of normalcy can show that the true heart of a man is not revealed until he responds to a life changing event. I guess some things are not always what they seem until you get to know them.

People in the Louisiana Community

The first time I met Mrs. Judie Mellany was at the bus stop, with both of us sitting on a bench. I was nervous about my first day of college, and by the way our first conversation was commenced I’m pretty sure it was because she could tell. Mrs. Mellany was comfortable to talk to, she reminded me of a long lost grandma I never had. She turned to me and said, “Sugar, none of us got anywhere being scared.” Simple as that, that is how I met Mrs. Judie Mellany.
When given this English 1001student interview assignment I was moderately unsure if I wanted to interview Mrs. Mellany and write my paper about her. I was unsure if she had a profession or job that would be substantial to my paper, but I knew it was more than worth a try. The next day when I ran into Mrs. Mellany at the bus stop, I inquired about an interview. She seemed more than happy to have company rather than have a paper written about her, and invited me to her home that day when my classes had ended.
Mrs. Mellany lives in a duplex in a small Baton Rouge community off of a street moderately near the school, alone. Her front yard has flowers and plants; it was obvious a good amount of time was spent on the humble landscape. I knocked and was immediately welcomed inside. Mrs. Mellany’s house was spotless, and had everything in its place. I felt as though I should take off my shoes after entering, you could tell the carpet had been freshly vacuumed, therefore, I took mine off and set them next to her rain boots near the door. No spot in this house had been abandoned of dusting, not a single spot. Her floral designed couch reminded of me of something off of The Golden Girls TV show, but that could be on account of Mrs. Mellany’s age and the rest of the surroundings being typical of a good home owner. It smelled heavenly. “The cookies won’t be ready for another 10 minutes,” she told me, but I was happy there were cookies at all.
Mrs. Mellany sat with her ankles crossed, and her hands in her lap, or holding a pocket book, or her other hand, or just folded and set daintily. She always wore a dress with these tan colored shoes, and her socks always matched her dress. She was not very thin, not thin at all, but a rather hefty woman. Even still it was not hard for her to get around the house nor did her weight limit her from doing anything else normally. Her skin was severely pale, and worn down perhaps from over the years of sun exposure. Her lips were thin and always painted with a vibrant color of red or pink. Mrs. Mellany’s hair was short in length, and had a mixed coloring of gray and white. Her eyes were either a deep shade of blue or a gray color; it was difficult for me to tell. When the oven buzzer beeped, she threw her hands in the air before pushing her chair away from the table, giving the impression she was startled but I could tell she wasn’t by the expressions on her face.
Over a plate of delicious homemade raisin and oatmeal cookies I got to hear Mrs. Mellany’s life story. She didn’t admit to how old she was, but instead told me she was born in 1942 in Italy, indicating she was 65 years old. She is a widow from a marriage to Thomas J. Mellany, her husband of 22 years. Mrs. Mellany and her husband did not have any children. Both of her parents were Italian and immigrated to the United States when she was still very young. Mrs. Mellany and her family lived in New Orleans until the hurricane forced Mrs. Mellany and her brother out of their family’s house and to, how Mrs. Mellany put it, “beautiful Baton Rouge,” her tone was slightly sarcastic. Her brother had not followed her here though; he now lives in Austin, Texas. Mrs. Mellany “grew up in the sixties,” and like most teenagers during the time, she loved the Beatles and hated the war. When she was 19 years old her boyfriend of two years that had entered the armed services was pronounced dead. “I had received two letters from him after his mother told me he had passed on,” Mrs. Mellany told me, her eyes were gazing out somewhere I couldn’t see, and then she looked back at me.
After reviewing Mrs. Mellany’s personal life, I began to infer about her profession, or in her case professions. When she was 15 she got her first job being a cashier at a local convenient store. She said that it was an easy job and she enjoyed seeing all the people she knew come into the store. After that job, and later in high school, she worked at a barber shop sweeping and cleaning. Mrs. Mellany said this job did not require much training either, “the hardest thing I had to do was sweep hair and clean combs.” Later when she turned 20 she worked as a secretary for the local notary. Mrs. Mellany said this was her first “official” job. She enjoyed being viewed as someone of importance by working for someone so well respected throughout the community. She loved being a secretary and being able to interact on the telephone, file papers, and type necessary documents. “I thought I could type faster than anyone until they invented keyboard computers,” she said with amusement, I half way laughed as well. At the age of 25 Mrs. Mellany married her husband, and at the age of 30 decided it wasn’t completely necessary to work. “Tommy always wanted us to settle down and have a family,” Mrs. Mellany told me, but sadly the Mellany’s never successfully had any children. Mrs. Mellany now provides for herself working as a house maid on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
By this time I wanted to bring the interview to an end and asked Mrs. Mellany if she had anything else to say that she wanted included into the interview, and she replied with, “no sweet child.” At this time I thanked Mrs. Mellany for not only letting me interview her but for inviting me into her home, making me cookies, having great hospitality, and being very kind to me even when I was only a stranger. She was modest as I thanked her and told me I was welcome back anytime I pleased, then we said our goodbyes.
Interviewing Mrs. Mellany made me realize that I didn’t have to interview someone rich or famous to hear about a great, well-lived life. Although she was not rich nor held a high position in society, she is still a great, absolutely wonderful person. I discovered that your profession, or what you do, does not define who you are. Who you are defines what you have done or will do. It does not take a fancy title, high class career, or a lot of money to create an interesting wholesome person. It takes experiences and genuine care, and Mrs. Mellany has an overwhelming amount of both. Though she has held many titles throughout her years to me she should be defined simply as a good, interesting person.

Behind Tinted Windows

At least three times a week I drive to my sister’s house and I always pass this place that catches my eye called After Hours Physical Therapy. Each time I pass it, I try to look through the windows to see what is inside but I never can. Even though I know I’m not going to be able to see what’s inside, I still try each time I pass it. The windows stretch across the front of the building and are darkly tinted. It has a huge white and green sign on top the building that says After Hours Physical Therapy with a huge clock next to it. The parking lot is not too big but is always full. Since this place intrigued me so much, I knew it would be the perfect place for me to do my student interview.
As I pulled into the After Hours Physical Therapy parking lot, I noticed a sign that read “If you are NOT a patient, please park around back!” I did what the sign said and pulled around to the back and parked. As I was about to open the door to enter, it opened automatically. Inside looked like a big gym where people work out. There were treadmills, stationary bicycles, weights, exercise balls, and other kinds of workout machines. As I began to look around at the people who were in there, they weren’t regular people who were trying to get fit or lose weight. They were people in wheelchairs, on crutches, and in braces. After I had figured out what was finally behind those tinted windows, I asked the receptionist if I could interview one of the physical therapists for my English 1001 class. She told me to go down the hall and it would be the third door on the right.
There was a gold plaque on the door that read, “Carol McFarland P.T.” I knocked on the door and I heard a high pitched voice telling me to come in. I opened the door and saw a lady sitting at her organized desk with short, curly, brown hair and a warming smile on her face. As I glanced around the room for a second, I noticed many framed certificates in a neat row across three of the walls. She asked, “How can I help you?” I briefly answered, “May I have a little bit of your time to interview you for my freshman writing at LSU?” She leaned back in her chair slightly and replied, “Of course you can.” We introduced ourselves and I sat down in the chair across from her. She had striking green almond shaped eyes with long dark lashes. Her skin was pale with freckles scattered across her face and arms. She wore a name tag on her white t-shirt that read, “Carol McFarland P.T.”
Carol had attended A&M University in College Station, Texas. She first wanted to be a P.E. coach, but realized that she didn’t want to pursue that anymore so she switched to geology. After a short time of studying geology, it no longer interested her. Carol decided she would try health education. She began reading a brochure about health professions and started reading about Physical Therapy. Growing up, Carol was always involved in athletics, so she knew when you get injured during a game; you get treated by Physical Therapist. She liked the idea of helping people get well and she had a real interest in it that kept her wanting to know more about physical therapy.
Carol began observing at a hospital in College Station where she got to help patients learn how to walk again after breaking their leg. She also helped strengthen elderly people’s muscles after they had a stroke. Even though she was not yet a certified Physical Therapist, she felt rewarded knowing that she had helped people in their recovery. As Carol talked she had a pleased look on her face and spoke with such sincerity. I realized how much compassion she has for her job and it made me feel good just knowing that.
Getting into physical therapy school was by no means easy. Carol had to take pre physical therapy classes to prepare to apply to physical therapy school. It’s very competitive to get in. They look at your grades, interview, and experience in physical therapy. Carol met all the requirements to get in. She started taking classes in physical therapy applications, neurology, and gross human anatomy. I asked her what gross human anatomy was because I had never heard of it. After I asked, she pulled her chair closer to the desk and said in a serious tone, “I had never experienced a class quite like it before. It was the hardest class I ever had to take.” She took in a deep breath and began telling me about it. Carol had to dissect cadavers, which are dead that had been donated to the school. At first I didn’t understand why she would have to do that for a physical therapy class. It sounded more like what a surgeon would have to do. I asked her why she had to dissect dead bodies for physical therapy. She answered, “It was the most important class I took. I got to see where the muscles, bones, and nerves were in the human body and how they worked.” It then made sense to me. I looked at Carol in a different way after she told me that. She portrayed a brave and determined woman who was dedicated in becoming a physical therapist.
After two years of physical therapy school, Carol had to take a State Board test before she could get her physical therapy license. She had to study for months and review everything she had learned that last two years. The time had finally come for her to take the exam. I can only imagine how nervous she was after all she had to go through to be a physical therapist. This exam would determine if Carol would become what she longed to be. All her hard work and dedication had paid off because she passed the exam and got her physical therapy license.
Carol’s first job as a physical therapist was at a hospital in Shreveport, Louisiana. She came to learn that being an actual physical therapist was nothing like she had learned in school. She had to adapt to treatments to fit the needs of the patients. For instance, she had a patient that was a burn victim from a grease fire. Two thirds of the patient’s body had second and third degree burns on it. Carol had to take all the burned skin off her body by scrubbing, cutting, and tweezing the skin off. Then she applied medicine to the burns and bandaged it. When she told me this, I cringed just hearing how painful that had to be for the patient and even Carol. She must of saw me cringe because she said, “Don’t worry the patient was heavily sedated to have less pain.”
I was curious to know what other types of patients she had to work with. So Carol went on to tell me about a little boy she had to treat who had been in a car wreck and had a head injury. He was non-responsive and could only lie in the hospital bed. Carol did range of motion on his arms and legs so they would not get stiff. Then she had to stand him up on a table that tilted to an upright position to remind his brain and heart how it was to be standing up like he use to before his head injury. After months of doing this his brain started to heal as the swelling went down. I began to understand that being a physical therapist was not only a physical job but emotional as well. Working with a patient who can’t even respond, then seeing him become coherent would definitely take a toll on someone, especially knowing that you contributed to his recovery.
Carol got the opportunity to open up her own clinic in Baton Rouge, where she continues to work to this day. I asked her how Hurricane Katrina affected her. She told me she had never had so many patients at one time after it hit. She had to get more therapists to come help her. It is an outpatient clinic where she treats neck, back, and leg injuries. Carol asked me if I came in knowing what all physical therapists actually did. “I had no idea all the different types of cases you treat. I thought physical therapists strictly deal with healing people’s muscles.” I answered honestly. Carol replied in a warm voice, “Being a physical therapists is much more than that. You become the hope of so many patients life and they become a priority in your life. Every improvement a patient makes, you know you helped them accomplish. I get to see so many people’s life change for the better which is so rewarding. That is why I love my job.”
Now whenever I drive buy After Hours Physical Therapy I won’t have to wonder what is behind those huge tinted windows. Behind those windows is people in need of treatment and an inspiring woman who is more than happy to help these injured people. Carol McFarland definitely picked the right profession for her and others.

Allen Gilreath

Austin Hebert
English 1001
Michel
Interview
Allen Gilreath
Allen Gilreath is a solo music artist of the Baton Rouge community. At a height of six feet even, he has a strong, confident figure. He has short brown hair with perfectly straight teeth thanks to his braces from high school. As a child he was raised listening to classical rock music, mostly rock, such as AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Lynard Skynard, Poison, etc. When I asked what his favorite rock band is he responded “there are so many amazing and aspiring bands that it is hard to single out just one.” He is currently a freshman at LSU and must also do an interview for his English 1001 class. When I asked who he is interviewing he told me “I am unsure at this point, but I hope to interview one of the janitors on campus.”
Allen has respect for the janitors because of everything they must endure. Though he himself said that he would not want to be a janitor, he claims that they are classified as heroes and heroines for the work they do in keeping our environment clean. As I attempted to get back onto the subject of his blooming music career, he interrupted me and began explaining his own views on the environment. “[Allen] does not agree with animal cruelty but does believe it is necessary to eat meat because of the possibility of overpopulation.” After making this statement he allowed me to continue with my interview.
I proceeded with my questions and asked him if he follows the rocker’s rule of sex, drugs, and rock and roll to which he responded “Hell yes! I am never going to get into any illegal drugs of any kind though. I never have and never will. I do follow the other two rules however. His reaction to the question was not as shocking as I had predicted. He was beginning to get impatient because I had promised him that the interview would not be that long so I went ahead and began my last question. I asked him where he sees himself going in the music business as a singer and guitar player, and he “has high hopes on making it big like those bands he listened to as a child,” which some are listed above, “they are my idols, and I can only hope to be as great as they are.”
I then wanted to ask him what his definition of greatness is when it comes to bands, but he refused, stood up, and began to walk away. When I yelled to thank him for his time, all he did was flick me a peace sign with his fingers.

Inked

Cade Vanderkamp
english 1001-110
october 16, 2007

Christine Ericson or “Trinity,” as most people know her is a young tattoo artist in Larose, Louisiana. When most people hear about Trinity’s work, they picture a big, tall man with tattooed sleeves going down his arms and sitting on top of a Harley. A lot of people also think that being a tattoo artist is an easy job and that the women cannot hang with the men.
All these ideas will soon change.
When I was on my way to meet Trinity, I assumed like most I was going to be talking to a big guy with lots of tattoos and a Harley, considering I heard Trinity road Harleys. I pulled up to the shop pulled the keys off my bike and walked in. When I walked in I noticed that the only person in the shop was a young girl, only nineteen or twenty, sitting behind the counter. I walked over asking her if this is the shop that Trinity worked at. She looked at me with a smile, “sure is what can I do for you.” Then it hit me, like a ton of bricks, she is Trinity. Wow, I thought I was coming here to interview a guy and here I am and he is a beautiful girl. As I stood there for a moment in shock, she got up and walked out from behind the counter, it was then I saw just how beautiful she was standing 5’7” with long brown hair. “So let me guess,” she said sarcastically, “you thought I was a guy with lots of tattoos and a Harley.” “I get that a lot,” she said with a smile. She was comfortable dressed in a black tank top and a blue jean skirt with a single Harley-Davidson tribal tattoo on her lower back. She was very sweet and very outgoing. When I asked her about interviewing her for a report she said, “of course you can, I’d love to help.”
Trinity was born and raised in Larose, Louisiana. From a young age she loved to watch her father, David, tattoo his clients. She often longed to learn the art, but her father always said it wasn’t a place for a girl. He tried for years to get her older brother Zack to pick up the needle, but he always refused to saying, “it’s not for me dad it never will be.” When Trinity was twelve her father realized that Zack was not going to ever become an artist, and he started to teach Trinity. After years of hard work studying her father’s movements with the gun and needle, she started to develop her own unique style. Once she developed this style she started to really get into tattooing people. She started out slow working on small tribal bands and doing touch up work, but it wasn’t before long that she was tattooing portraits and her own custom designed tribal art work. By age seventeen she had just finished high school at Central Lafourche High School, and was at the top of her game. Her fast track however was about to hit a road block.
Shortly after her graduation her father was involved in a car accident and died. Trinity was devastated and couldn’t even look at the shop or a tattoo. Zack told Trinity she could have the shop, the house, and their dads Harley-Davidson, after telling her this he loaded up his truck and took off to Florida. This did not help Trinity at all. It took two months for her just to walk back into the shop. Once she was able to handle the pain of her father’s death she started tattooing again.
Business was slow and getting even slower with the addition of another shop opening up while she was grieving. The other shop had pulled a lot of her father’s customers away from her, and others thought that a girl could not compete with a man when it came to tattooing. For months she barely scraped by and often thought of selling the shop but she could not sell it. The shop was her father’s dream and part of that dream was to pass it on to her, so no matter how hard things were she could not bring herself to sell the shop.
One afternoon she was just about to close up shop when one of her father’s old friends showed up. He looked at her and saw that she was devastated that the shop was failing. He told her she could turn it around. She looked at him and asked how because she had no customers and in the tattoo business customers are your advertisement agency as well as your income. He looked around the shop for a minute and saw a drawing, “what is this,” he asked. She looked over at him, “that it’s just a drawing I was working on.” With a smile he said, “so stick it,” and took off his shirt and laid across the table. She looked at him confused for a minute, then said, “Ok,” and got everything she was going to need. She carefully set everything she would need in place and prepared to tattoo her creation onto his back. This was going to be difficult though because a tattoo this intricate and this big would have to be done freehanded. She worked for five hours that night and finished all of the outlining. Two week passed and the old man came in again and asked if she was ready to finish. After four and a half hours of work her master piece was done. He stood up and looked into the mirror at his back and saw a perfect tattoo of an eagle soaring over a siloughette of a Harley with an American flag waving behind it. After he left that night and for weeks to come he showed everyone he knew his new tattoo and who the artist was.
The business started coming back slowly a few here a few there, but it was still hard to keep up with the other shops. A few months after the old man left the shop; a few bikers came into the shop and asked her if she was the girl who does the custom tattoo art. Before they left she had three appointments for custom tattoos with the promise of more to come. A few weeks later the bikers tattoo were complete and suddenly business started booming, turns out that those bikers where member of the Red Nights and Iron Worriors, two large motorcycle clubs. They showed their clubs their new tattoos and told them who the artist was and embers of their clubs started to go to Trinity for their tattoos. Since then she has had a thriving and competitive tattoo shop.
Not only is Trinity’s job trying at times, but also nerve racking. She is an artist who only has one shot at every masterpiece; there is no erasing, no back space button, and no undoing anything in ink. She is a woman running at the top of her game in an occupation dominated by men, and yet she preservers and raises above all the competition. Trinity is one tattoo artist who has changed my mind about the field she is in.

Humbleness: Key to Success

Blake Nichols
English 1001
Lei Lani Michel
16 October 2007

Last year, I was given the opportunity to intern at the law firm of Usry, Weeks, and Matthews for a few days. During this internship, I was able to observe the everyday operation of a law firm and the tasks of its lawyers. While I was soaking in all that went on at the firm, one person caught my interest the most. It was one of the partners in the firm, Mr. Freeman Matthews. I noticed that he had a serious work ethic that seemed to inspire the entire firm to work hard and do their best. However, the thing that struck me as most impressive about this man was his humble nature and what seemed like a blue collar attitude to such a white collar job.
When I contacted Mr. Matthews about doing this online interview for my freshman writing at LSU, he was more than happy to do it and told me to meet him at his home in old Metairie. I arrived at his white, three story, antebellum style home and knocked on the door. His wife answered and told me that I could find him working in the side yard. I politely thanked her and proceeded to the side yard. I found Mr. Matthews, shovel in hand, digging up some plants in his garden. He turned around and saw me approaching and walked toward me with a big smile on his face. As he greeted me, I could not help but notice his dirt stained clothes and the sweat protruding all over his body. He looked like a landscaper rather than a great attorney. After the greeting, he brought me to his wine cellar to conduct our interview.
We sat down in a chilled room with what I’m sure is a fortune of wine surrounding us and began the interview. I started with a very general question about what made him want to pursue law. He gave me a quick smirk and said, “My mother thought it would be a good idea.” He then laughed and told me that while that was true, he found that law was something that just came natural to him. He said he always wanted to be somewhere in the criminal justice system and studied accordingly while working on his degree at Loyola university. I then asked where his first job was. “I worked for the New Orleans District Attorneys office for a number of years after college.” He replied. I inquired about the kinds of cases he handled as a district attorney. He began telling me stories of murders, arson, theft, and all of the normal criminal activities of a large city. He had one story that really stuck out to me about a pornography distributor that was distributing bizarre and at the time thought to be material that was criminal, and he and few other district attorneys had to watch all of the videos and decide which to put in as evidence.
After a few big cases, he and two other district attorneys he worked with decided they would start there own firm. Usry, Weeks, Matthews was born, and they began to take on private clients in everything from lawsuits to writing up contracts and everything in between. He then explained that after a few years his firm got a contract through some contacts they made as district attorneys to represent all the sheriffs in the state. I had to ask what kind of cases they had to take on with this contract. He rolled his eyes behind his glasses and said, “Gees you name it. Every time a deputy has to use force or breathes in a way that someone finds offensive, you better believe there is a suit against them.”
I then moved the interview away from his law practices and into where he found his work ethic. I wanted this line of questioning to come about with him answering my questions without me actually asking directly about his work ethic. So I asked, “Mr. Matthews do you do all of your yard work yourself?” He told me that he does, but rarely will he hire someone to help him. Now you would have to see this man’s yard to appreciate this answer to the degree as I did. He has a second lot next door to his home with a perfectly cut green lawn, a court yard style fountain in the middle, a vegetable garden in the back, and two huge beautiful oak trees that give shade to a large iron butterfly bench. I asked him why he finds it necessary to do everything himself. He responded with, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” I had to ask if he had always been this self-reliant or if it had come later in life. He told me stories of how his mother and father always had work for him and his two brothers to do. He said that after a few years of his parents housework regime, any other jobs just seemed easy to him because he was used to finishing jobs all the way through. He told me that he had been working jobs ever since he was thirteen.
In his office, Mr. Matthews has a montage of pictures of what I assumed was his family. It seemed to me that they must be important to him if he had so many pictures of them. So my next inquiry was about his family life. He answered my question by first telling me of his family structure when he was a child. His mother was a full blooded Italian and family is very important to them. Every Sunday, they would eat dinner at his grandmother’s house with his entire family. He said that no one ever missed a Sunday because, “everyone knew that the family came first.” He then concluded by saying that the love he feels for his family only comes natural because of his background. I asked if all those pictures in his office were his immediate family or if they were extended. He said that a few are extended but most are his immediate family. He told me that he has four children, eight grandchildren, and another grandchild on the way.
The subject of hurricane Katrina came up in the end of my interview. I asked how it had affected him, his family, and his practice. “Well you know that was just another challenge in life that we had to face. I just accepted that challenge and did all that I could do to help as many people as return to normalcy as possible.” This was perhaps the answer that set me back the most in this interview, no matter what comes before this man he just keeps an up beat attitude and takes on whatever is ahead of him no matter how difficult the task. The family home had about a foot of water and some roof damage, but he considered himself very fortunate because he saw it as a small task to handle. Mr. Matthews and his family moved to a friend’s house in Lafayette where he and his law partners kept their practice alive. A few weeks later, he moved his daughter to Baton Rouge and his son to Houston so they could continue their schooling; while he went back to New Orleans to reopen his firm’s office and repair his home.
Throughout my interview with Mr. Matthews, I could not keep but silently admiring the answers that he gave to my questions. At no point did I feel as if he was being insincere or un truthful with me, nor did he ever seem as if he would rather be somewhere else. I garnered a whole new respect for him and admire his traits of a good work ethic, humbleness over his accomplishments, and the undying devotion he has to his family. I hope that one day, when I am old in age that I can look at myself and say that I have brought out most of these traits in myself.

Education and Corruption

Jeffrey Wang
Lei Lani Michel
LSU English 1001-109 interview
10/15/07
As I drive toward the destination to fulfill the appointment, the home of my father’s friend, I can not help to feel excited about what’s going to happen, since it will be the first time that I actually get to ask and understand his contributions on his occupation and his views on Louisiana. But then, I still have to focus on the road rather than starring into the empty space and crash into the trees or mail boxes on the side.
After several times of passing by his house not knowing it and turning around and around trying to find it, I finally realized it is on the other side. And so I drive into his parking lot, feeling a bit embarrassed, since I know that they probably saw me passing by a few times. The man opens the door and welcomed me warmly with a smile, as they do not see me as often now as before the summer, when my father or my mother was here with me. I am considered as a rare guest, I guess, since I do not get around much to their gathering of friends and families.
I entered two wooden doors, one after another: one with the color of vermillion with four covered windows, another with milky white, both simply crafted. Then, I am inside their dining room, which I remembered as the main chatting place of his house, rather than the living room. The room has a white ceiling – much like that of the door, with the kitchen by the side, which have sinks, wooden drawers, a refrigerator, an oven, stoves, microwaves… etc, like one that a middle income family would have in their kitchen. The Dining room consists of not much, but a wooden table and chairs, an unused lamp, a fan, and a large window that can be seen through to watch if anyone is entering the parking lot. And it can also see a little part of the children’s playing room and a part of the living room, since these rooms are not isolated by doors.
It was planned that after this, his family and I would have lunch together, since they insisted. After some chats about what is going on recently, and the many worries of my parents about my brother and me, we were ready for the interview. Like I expected, we would have the conversation over the dining room table. He cleared off the table and sited on a chair in a pretty relaxed position as he probably has plenty of experience regarding interviews and is ready at any place, any moment.
“What do you do in your job?” A simple question starts the conversation. “I am a research person in an industry focused on health care.” He then explains how his industry has six main branches, and he being in the part of Home Health. “The six branches consist of Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speech Aid Therapy, Nursing, Medical Social Worker, and Home Health.” Since I do not know what Occupational Therapy, Medical Social Worker, and home health do, I raised my curiosity and asked him to tell more about them. He then explains with the hand motions – both hands waving in the air having almost the same motion as another like mirror image of one another. I remembered that I have read something about hand motions during talks a couple years ago, that they help the speaker to think. “Occupational Therapy helps people to get occupational trainings and let them get a satisfying job, so they can get a healthy life.” And then he talks on. It reminds me how whenever I try to ask a question, he still continue on to speak. As if he doesn’t want me to ask about the details on most of the topics. “Medical Social Worker is mostly for family consulting, either psychological or social.” Then he started to organize his thoughts to speak. “The most important mission of home health is to bring care into the patients’ house.” “They would come from the base to the customer on certain times with the medicines and tools needed to take care of the customer,” with his hand with the claw shape and fingers pointing towards table, the home health people, moving up from one place to his other hand, the customer. He uses this motion a lot when he talks about two subjects that are related. “It is important to know what the customer wants and what the hospital provides.” “So we can give them what the hospitals would provide and the business would not be snatched away.”
And after the understanding on what his job is about on the surface, I changed the topic so I can keep asking questions. “How has Katrina affected the business of your industry?” “Not much,” he said. “Since our branches are spread all over the state, the damage is minimal when compared with other industries.” With the confidence in his mind that the new job he got. He was a teacher with a PhD in Human Resource at Louisiana State University, and has taught for a long time. But then recently he found a better paying job at the industry he is in now. What he does mainly in Home Health is research – outcome management, market analysis and financial projection. And he jokes: “I’m not attending my proper duties.” Since his knowledge in human resource does not have much to do with his job. He explains that outcome management is making certain decisions based on financial projection – the financial history in the past. By making the optimal decision or as they thought it would be, they can expect a rise in the business.
Then we talked about education, and how corruption has caused our state’s educational quality to stagger. He suggested that since the state does not change its budget to fund the educational system more money, the teachers do not get more pay, which cause an overall drop on the rank in the nation by its standards. And he talks about how the Texas’s educational quality is a lot better than Louisiana, even though one of its main money maker, oil, is making it the money that is comparable our state. That Louisiana should be richer than what it seems now overall, but it is not. He argued that the fourteen families who control the oil production are corrupted, and that they stole a lot of money from it, saying they are main cause behind the corruption. He said that the only way he can think of to improve the educational quality of the state is to raise the teacher’s pay higher, so it can attract more people with good values to teach.
Then we ate lunch together after this interview, it was quite hard to try to stay on topic when one does not want to talk about it.