| Walter C. Abbott Tom
Kelly At the end of February, on the day after we had already sent the March edition of Piney Woods Journal to the printer, we received word of the death of our friend and long-time columnist, W.C. Abbott, Jr., of Jonesboro. His writing was a bright spot on this page for the past five years, with columns taken from episodes in his two self-published books, "Tales About People and Places in Louisiana," and "Bayou Manchac in the 20's." They were always fun, about people and events from his wide circle of friends from childhood, during a career as County Agent in Jackson Parish, and during his long and pleasant retirement years which began 22 years ago. Mr. Abbott enjoyed good health well into his mid to late 80s, and died at 92 after a long battle with cancer. We will miss his good cheer, and his interesting columns. Following are details from his obituary, which tells of an interesting life: * * * Walter Clarence Abbott, Jr., was born January 5, 1914, in Opelika, Alabama, and was raised at Hope Villa in Ascension Parish. An alumnus of LSU, he was a member of the 1934 National Championship Track Team. In 1944 he and his family moved to Jonesboro where he served until his retirement in 1974. He is survived by his devoted wife of 71 years, Edna Webb Abbott; daughter, Blanche and husband Freddie Mac Pardue of San Augustine, Texas; three sons and their wives, Robert and Susan Abbott of Alexandria, George and Sue Abbott of West Monroe, and Walter and Gayla Abbott of Ruston; sister Mary Jo Messer of Greenwell Springs; brother-in-law Andrew Sholar of Prairieville. Also surviving are grandchildren Lee Brady, William Fowler, II, Laura Dear, Frank, David, and Paul Abbott, Kathy Graham, Keith Abbott, Katie Abbott, and 12 great grandchildren. Mr. Abbott was an avid fisherman of note, and spent many happy retirement years fishing with Edna on Lake D'Arbonne. In later years, he authored two well-received books of short stories about his life in Louisiana. Funeral services were held February 28, 2006 at Edmonds Funeral Home in Jonesboro, and burial was at Gayla Traina Cemetery at Jonesboro. * * * Following is a condensed excerpt from a longer piece written by Mr. Abbott in his "Bayou Manchac in the 1920's," some very personal bits about his family--demonstrating that he had the ability to see things that others often missed. My father, Walter C. Abbott, came to Louisiana in 1910 soon after graduating from Auburn University in Alabama. He was the first agriculture teacher at Oak Grove High School near Hope Villa, Louisiana. Walter became acquainted with Julia Daigle, who lived near the school, and they married in 1911. After three years at Oak Grove and five years in North Louisiana, where he was agriculture teacher at Stonewall High School and County Agent in Natchitoches Parish, he returned to South Louisiana. Walter and Julia negotiated a loan from the Federal Land Bank and bought the Oakland Farm from the estate of Tommy Dixon, and they spent the greater portion of their life paying for the farm. We learned about growing watermelons, tomatoes, and other garden things. We joined the 4-H Club and Bill and I learned how to feed pigs and make them grow fast. The girls learned about cooking and sewing and they got excellent help from Mama and Lilly, the lady who helped Mama raise her large family. Bayou Manchac flowed by our farm for about a half mile. Not far downstream there was an off-shoot from the bayou we called the inlet. It was a trench-like structure that ran about thirty feet straight back from the main stream. It was about ten feet wide and four or five feet deep. That's where most of us learned to swim. Dad and Mama got very little monetary value from the farm during the more than fifty years they owned it, but the value in satisfaction and pride cannot be measured. The farming operations were quite ordinary. No large yields were made and the crops sold didn't pay for the cost of producing them most of the time. But there were several families that lived on the place during the early years that were able to make a living. After all of the sons and daughters were grown and had left home, Mama went with Dad when he fished. Our large family gathered back at the home place every Thanksgiving until Mama died in 1967. Dad died in 1971. When the picture taker in the family, Edythe A. Sholar, realized we were to sell the farm she got busy with her camera. She show four pictures, had them enlarged, and gave her two brothers and four sisters a set of them. Fleda A. King, the sister that raised a large family while living on the farm just a stone's throw from the old home . . . looked at the picture which showed the large porch where kids and grandkids and some great grandkids played for so long a time. The last picture was of the old swing under the hackberry tree in the back yard, the swing that for so many years was seldom empty, the swing that kids played in and adults rested in. She looked at it a long time. Then she put it in a frame and underneath the picture she wrote, "Where have all the Abbotts gone?" Where have all the Abbotts gone? One is still there. If you don't see her, you're not looking carefully. She's sitting in the swing. Don't you see the bright red apron she wears and the pan of ripe tomatoes in her lap? I know what you're thinking. Tomatoes don't ripen when trees have lost their leaves. But if you'll look closely you'll see that it's June again. Leaves cover the tree and the birds are there. They know her because she talks to them. She has paused from her chores to wipe her damp brow and put a few wisps of unruly hair in place. She is looking toward the garden where he is working. Look carefully. You'll see her. She is surely there. --R.I.P., Walter C. Abbott, Jr. 1914-2006 |