Some people are called to serve their fellow human beings. Some are also called to serve their fellow feline beings.

For the past three years, Barbara Bazzell made a daily detour behind Cancun Mexican Restaurant on Ryan Street. She carried food and water instead of fanfare, and waiting for her beneath a narrow thicket of bamboo was a collection of abandoned and feral cats that had made the area their home.

They became known affectionately as the Cancun Kitties. And Barbara, 74, became their person.

Like clockwork, the cats begin to lounge about the Cancun parking lot every morning at about 7:30 am. By then, they know Barbara is coming. 

But feeding the cats was only the beginning.

Working alongside Hobo Hotel for Cats, Barbara became involved in identifying feral cats in the colony that could be included in the organization’s Trap-Neuter-Return, or TNR, program. The cats are trapped, spayed or neutered, given needed medical attention, flea treatments and rabies vaccinations, and then returned to the territory they already know.

Barbara Bazzell during one of her past daily detours to tend to the cats behind Cancun Mexican Restaurant.

“How it all started was I had just come out of knee surgery and it was my first outing going out since the surgery,” Barbara says. I went to Cancun Mexican Restaurant, and that’s when ‘Little Boy,’ a little black cat with so much personality, came out to greet me. I could tell that he was hungry. I thought how I eat every day and I drink water every day and that these cats may not, and they didn’t deserve this. So, I went home that night after dinner and came back with a plate of dry cat food. And I haven’t stopped since then.”

Little Boy was the first of the Cancun Kitties to receive a name from Barbara. But this group of cats was certainly not her first rodeo. Barbara has spent much of her life caring for wayward animals and people who found themselves without a place to call home.

For three years, roughly two dozen feral cats behind a Lake Charles restaurant could count on somebody showing up.

Barbara doesn’t make weather an excuse.

“I go to them whether it’s raining, whether it’s snowing or too hot — whatever it is, I am there, because I have the support of Hobo Hotel for Cats, and my volunteers like Sally and Chelsea that help me when I can’t be there to do for the cats,” said Barbara. “This is not all about me. It’s about people dumping cats. And not fixing animals.”

That last part may be the most important. Because the Cancun Kitties aren’t really the problem. They are the evidence of one.

Every feral cat colony begins somewhere. Sometimes it starts with an unfixed house cat that gets loose. Sometimes it begins when somebody decides they no longer want a pet and leaves it behind. Before long, one cat becomes several, and several become a colony.

“The cats come and go; some come back later on, depending on conditions, but basically, the colony is thriving,” said Barbara. “At any given time, an average of 18 Cancun Kitties live behind the restaurant Currently, only one male has not been fixed. And honestly, we couldn’t do it without the volunteer efforts of some retired veterinarians, who spay and neuter at no cost. This isn’t my first action. But it’s the first with the kind of support that I’m getting with Hobo Hotel. 

“I used to feed homeless people and animals in California, and homeless people and animals in Texas and Louisiana. I’m just scared of the homeless people today. I’m not scared of these cats.”

But Barbara has left Lake Charles.

On July 31, after three years of showing up, Barbara made one final trip behind Cancun. She put out one last meal, said goodbye to the cats that had become woven into the fabric of her daily life, climbed into her vehicle, and began the long drive west to Arizona to be closer to family.

But she didn’t abandon the Cancun Kitties. She left them in capable hands. A dedicated group of volunteers, who learned the routine and the responsibility from Barbara herself, has pledged to continue feeding and caring for the colony.

Barbara said that while she has left the Cancun Kitties in the capable hands of her volunteers, there is still a problem at the back of Cancun that has nothing to do with the cats themselves. It has to do with people.

“There are people that sneak in and try to feed the cats by dumping food on the ground, thinking that they are helping the cats, and it just kind of angers the owners of Cancun,” said Barbara. “Because this is their business. That’s why I go in at 8 am before his business opens, so that the cats have cleared out by the time his lunch crowd comes. I do this out of respect.”

That respect has been mutual.

Barbara chatting with Esteban
“Steve” Himel, owner of Cancun.

Esteban “Steve” Himel and his wife, Linda, have sanctioned Barbara’s efforts to feed and water the cats behind their restaurant. For Linda, however, the Cancun Kitties aren’t simply a recent phenomenon.

“Well, (this group of) cats has been ongoing for at least 10 to 12 years,” said Linda. “Miss Barbara and several people come and feed them and play with them and enjoy them. Some of our customers bring their kids out here to see the cats. I’ve had a few customers over the years sit in their cars with fishing poles and (try to) get an interaction with the cats by casting little cat toys on a fishing line and reeling them in. Because the cats don’t let you go to them; the cats usually run away, afraid. But some people have come and played with them for that long.

“We love the Cancun Kitties. And I am always grateful when someone takes them to fix them and then they get adopted out by a local family. It makes you feel so good.”

Hobo Hotel for Cats has spent more than two decades dealing with the problem that begins when a cat is abandoned and multiplies when nobody intervenes. But not every cat wandering around a neighborhood is feral.

“We provide a program for feral cats, not tame cats,” said a Hobo Hotel for Cats representative. “Because people think that feral cats are just stray cats. And we can only intervene with ones that are not tame. They have to go into a trap. We have done, with our TNR (Trap, neuter, return) program over the years over 3,000 cats. So, it is definitely part of a solution that we’ve been at for over 26 years. We do adoptions as well as TNR.

“Dumping cats is just horrible. Often, the cats are thrown out of a moving truck or a car. Once cats know that there is food involved, a colony will grow. Unless you do TNR. But if you do utilize our TNR program, and get all the cats fixed, the colony will stabilize. 

“I personally feed three feral cat colonies, but every cat I feed has been fixed. I feed them. I fix them. That should be the rule. Feeding them is only the beginning of a good deed. That needs to continue with getting them fixed, because if they are not fixed, they will continue to reproduce at an alarming rate.”

And therein lies the real story of the Cancun Kitties. It is about what happens when somebody sees a problem and decides that somebody ought to do something about it.

Behind Cancun Mexican Restaurant, beneath the bamboo and beside an old ladder that became a hurricane escape route, a colony of cats has found something most abandoned animals never get: Someone who stayed.

Because Barbara stayed, others have decided to stay, too. For the Cancun Kitties, that might be the greatest piece of good fortune they’ve ever had.

The post The Saga Of The Cancun Kitties appeared first on BestOfSwla.

The Internet came abuzz with the announcement of a soon-to-open Em J’s Cafe. Their catchy entrée descriptors, with word play, set the tone of enticement as we all looked forward to the grand opening. You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t want to be the first in town to get a Fry Me To The Moon, or a Lord Have Cinnamercy?

Southwest Louisiana diners do what they do, flocking at the chance to be the first to sample what the new kid on the block has to offer. Traditionally, I like to hold back and wait a little while for the ducks to get in a row. However, after seeing a few reports of positivity, I wanted to show my support for the new and exciting restaurant.

I mean, when it comes to homestyle cooking featuring breakfast and lunch, not only does it take the strain and waitlist away from some of the local favorites, it offers a bit of competitive variety for us customers. Don’t get me wrong, we all have our favorites. But sometimes, waiting for your name to be called is the hardest part. And options are good, especially when it comes to affordable dining.

I made it a special point to duck out of work just to peek at the menu and sample breakfast at Em J’s Cafe. “It’s been a while,” I thought to myself as I made that familiar walk from the parking lot to the front door.

Even though this is my first time at EmJ’s, the building has a lot of history. It’s been a successful launchpad for many who have built their humble beginnings inside these walls. From the old Frosty’s Bar, to Sloppy Taco, and Area337LC, there is some lineage here as we welcome the newest addition. Em J’s is a culmination of names—the owners, Emmeline, the face and frontwoman of the diner, and her mom’s husband, J, the silent partner.

Walking in, it’s much quieter and more tranquil than I remember from the past. I take a seat at what was once the bar, now four stools at a diner counter.

Looking through the menu, the time of day can slip my appetite one way or the other. Do I want to try the burger that I’ve heard so much about? Or do I stick with my initial breakfast intentions?

Honestly, everything sounds wonderful as I read through, with an emphasis on American-style big breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, omelettes, croffles, and waffles, along with a Southern favorite, biscuits and gravy.

Knowing that my wife is going to accompany me in the near future, and knowing her, she’ll order something sweet leaves me to go with one of my favorites.

The Heaping Helping offered everything I was in the mood for. Watching plates placed on the sill between the kitchen and counter, they’re quickly whisked off to their tables. Soon, I hear “order up” called from the back.

Emmeline gently places the platter before me. The presentation is remarkable and I can’t wait to take a bite, but pictures first.

Armed with a fork and knife, my work was cut out for me. It took several first bites to get a feel for everything that’s going on. From top to bottom, layer through layer, it just got better and better.

Smothered in a creamy white gravy, the over-easy eggs dripped their golden yolk. The fork alone cuts through the chicken-fried steak with ease. The crust gives way to a tender and tasty beef steak over a bed of hash browns. Grated thinner than most hash browns, they had a crisp edge and a smooth, delicate bite.

This hit the mark so perfectly, I contemplated ordering another just to experience it all over again. But I refrained, knowing I’ll have other opportunities.

Then the time came to share Em J’s with my wife, Shyla.

We get an early start on the morning, making breakfast a priority. Today, we’re seated at a table in the dining room as Emmeline welcomes us.

Instinctively, I want to indulge in the chicken-fried steak once again, but I have to curb that idea. I can’t make my decision until Shyla makes hers, and it doesn’t do me any good to order the same thing twice or I won’t have any material.

After a little back-and-forth indecisiveness, we decide to start with breakfast appetizers. I don’t know if that’s a thing, but today it is. A simple order of biscuits and gravy and a Croffle to start us off.

The house-made biscuits are mouthwatering perfection. Fluffy, soft, warm, and in that essential phase where it’s not dry, it’s not gooey, and it’s smothered in gravy.

The Croffle, a tasty little croissant-waffle hybrid, is a bit denser than either and can be quite filling in quantity.

Now, breakfast might be the most important meal of the day, but don’t think that means appetizers are necessarily a good thing. By the time we had finished this, our breakfast entrée ideas had changed. We weren’t quite as hungry for that full breakfast experience as we had planned just a few moments earlier.

With that, Shyla leaned on the lighter side, ordering a simple BLT. To be fair, the cafe is in their beginning stages, but I do think the bacon, lettuce and tomato should be the main character in a BLT, not dwarfed by the encompassing Texas Toast

Myself, I kept my focus on the Shrimply The Best Burger. Topping a beef patty with grilled shrimp, jalapeño, two different cheeses, and the entire garden sandwiched between buns sounded fantastic to me.

But just in case, I asked Emmeline to make the choice between that and the Thai Me A River.  Not a burger, per-se, but a chicken sandwich like no other. We both agreed this is something not offered by many. It sounds intriguing.

With that, I’m served a plump, juicy chicken breast, battered and fried, with crisp cabbage and topped with Asian peanut sauce. It’s a two handed sandwich that needs a big bite and bigger appetite to finish.

We walked out of there full and ready to tackle the rest of the day.

Em J’s is off to a great start and has a lot of potential. I’m eager to try other menu items, but I’m definitely coming back for the chicken-fried steak breakfast.

The post Em J’s Café appeared first on BestOfSwla.

FROM LEFT: REKA’S DAUGHTER JAZLYNN MITCHELL, ARTHUR WHITE AND REKA WHITE

At The Kitchen, Reka White’s role is… everything. At Reka’s family restaurant she does it all–accounts payable, waitress, chef, bus girl. “I’m a jack of all trades,” she says. She’s also next in line. Her 69-year-old father, Arthur White, opened The Kitchen 23 years ago but his story in food started long before.

At nine-years-old Arthur worked in his uncle’s meat market on Shattuck Street. It was an early baptism into the industry before he went to work at Market Basket, eventually stepping away to build something of his own.

These days on most mornings you can find him in the kitchen right alongside his daughter. He arrives by 6 am and gets to work.

“I learned how to cook from my dad,” Reka says. “And how to cook big portions.”

Food trends come and go, but the folks at The Kitchen have managed to stay rooted in something simpler—consistency.

“My dad is big on everything tasting the same every single time,” Reka says. “If I try to switch something up, he’ll say something.”

That dedication shows up in the food and people they serve—plate lunches where regulars usually don’t even have to order.

“They just sit down,” she says. “I know their name, what they’re eating, what they’re drinking.”

The menu rotates daily throughout the week. One day customers have meatball stew or pork roast to look forward to, while the next is a seafood plate or slow-cooked oxtails. The oxtails are a favorite—fried down first, then simmered in a rich, homemade gravy until they’re fall-off-the-bone delicious.

“You can eat them with a spoon,” Reka says. Everything on the menu is made the right way.

“People don’t believe we have a real smokehouse,” she says. “They think we bake our barbecue. But no—we barbecue everything.” The restaurant has smokehouse in the back which churns out legitimate barbecue weekly. After our interview Reka suggested I take home some barbecue ribs. They were tender and flavorful. Turns out you can eat the ribs with a spoon, too.

On Fridays, the fried fish and shrimp plates take over. Catfish is coated in seasoned cornmeal and flour, fried until golden and crispy, while jumbo shrimp are butterflied, battered, and cooked crunch perfection. Each plate comes piled high with classic sides like fries or potato salad. And homemade dessert and cornbread are always included.

Then there’s the meatball stew—a newer addition that quickly became a staple. The meatballs are made from scratch, rolled by hand, fried, and then slow-cooked in gravy with potatoes. “It’s just good, home-cooked food,” she says. It is, indeed.

The restaurant isn’t just a business—it’s a family operation through and through. Reka’s cousin handles daily deliveries to Westlake Chemical, where they send out 30 to 40 plates each weekday. Another relative helps in the kitchen. Even Reka’s kids pitch in during school breaks—working the register, serving customers, and learning the ropes from the ground up.

“I make them start in the back,” she says. “Washing dishes, cutting potatoes—you’ve got to learn everything.”

At home, Rekia has already stepped into another role once held by her father. “I’m the one doing the holiday cooking now,” she says. “I took the torch.”

For Rekia, stepping into the family business wasn’t just about legacy—it was about balance.

After years working in a plant, she found herself missing important family moments. “I couldn’t get my kids to practices or games,” she says. “Now, I can do all of that and still be here.”

Every morning she’s able to drop her kids off at school before meeting her dad at the restaurant around 7:30. She bakes the cakes and cornbread from scratch daily, helps her dad tie up any loose ends and then the pair open the doors at 10:30. After the lunch rush she’s able to clean up, close up and pick up her kids from school. It’s a work life balance she says was only a dream in her previous work.

“The balance is perfect,” she says.

When asked what she hopes people take away after visiting The Kitchen, her answer is simple: “Everything is made with love, home cooked.”

It’s a philosophy that’s been passed down from her father—and one she’s clearly carrying forward. Reka hasn’t quite taken over at the restaurant; her father’s not ready to hang up his knives just yet. But when the time comes? The Kitchen is in really good hands.

The post Chef’s Corner- A FAMILY AFFAIR appeared first on BestOfSwla.

RED KOHNKE

MARY ANN AND RED KOHNKE (CENTER, FAR RIGHT) WITH AMERICAN PRESS EMPLOYEE SAM GUILLORY (FAR LEFT)

Red Kohnke was born in 1930 New Orleans and weathered his youth there. The product of a harder era in a big city, Red spent his early years molded by the heart of Louisiana’s largest metropolis. He read prolifically throughout his life, even as a child. By age 11, he and his friends would sell sodas at the Tulane games and use the change they earned to buy cigarettes, which they smoked under the stadium. This resulted in a life-long, heavy smoking habit and likely contributed his early death.

As a young adult, Red began writing and working for the New Orleans Picayune. Always drawn to the outdoors, he fell in love with covering the New Orleans Big Game Rodeo, and his sense of adventure encouraged him to seize any opportunity that came his way. He embraced the era’s advancements in photography and learned all he could about the modern cameras of the time, ultimately becoming an award-winning artist and well-known photojournalist as well as a gifted writer. He went to typeset and engraving school in Chicago, and that skillset opened the door to papers across the country.

In 1957, Kohnke came to SWLA to cover the damage from Hurricane Audrey and was the first to photo-document the dead bodies at the Port of Lake Charles on workboats ferrying the morose cargo up from storm-decimated Cameron.

After covering the storm, Red found a home in our area and spent 49 years as a department head overseeing engraving and writing the column Outdoors for the American Press. He married Mary Ann, a St. Pat’s RN, and the couple reared two children in the Lake Area.

I met Red as a child and had the privilege of getting to know him to some extent as a young adult. He and I both served two terms as president of the SWLA Fishing Club, and obviously we both have had the honor of writing outdoors in this beautiful area. Both avid outdoorsmen, we each have a younger son and older daughter a little over a year apart. Both of us prioritized bringing our children up outside.

The similarities end there. Red was a real journalist, a consummate newspaper man, an old-school treasure from a bygone era. Bill Shearman, secondgeneration member of the family that long owned the American Press, wrote a beautiful tribute to Red after his death in 2002. Like so many readers of our area, Red served as a bridge to the Shearman family’s outdoor adventures too.

Kohnke was an avid fisherman who loved and consistently participated in our Fourth of July Rodeo, The New Orleans Big Game Rodeo, and The Intracoastal City Tarpon Rodeo. In May of 1965, Mary Ann won the Lady’s Division with the largest fish of the tournament. She loved to fish, too, but was often plagued with seasickness. As a nurse, she was able to work with doctors to create a special “concoction” which allowed her to push through. It was suggested I not ask. (Hey, it was the mid-‘60s; who knows?)

Red’s son, Buddy Kohnke, talking about his dad, is quick to describe a normal family man whose ordinary SWLA life was full of larger-than-life events. Red loved to cook and eat. I guess we have that in common, too. Occurrences as basic as the family frying fish for dinner would end up with pictures of the children in a national magazine article about making king mackerel balls.

Buddy got to travel with his father fly fishing for trout in Ireland and on trips to Colorado. Often, it was hunting or fishing here. Buddy recalls at one point they all got new Faulk Duck calls. Red had helped the owner write and prepare some promotional material and got compensated with a lifetime supply. Buddy relayed a fond memory of he and his father having to outrun multiple storms while speck fishing  10 miles south of Cameron. “Dad loved the excitement of it. That might have been one of his last trips,” Buddy said.

RED’S BOAT ‘THE MISS PRINt’ … WITH IT’S SIGNATURE BACKWARDS “N”

Red was a member of the Outdoor Writer’s Association of America in an age where the line between outdoor writer and outdoor legend was thin. His contemporaries in the small world of OWAA would have included Lee and Joan Wulff, Mark Sosin, Lefty Kreh and Stu Apte. Many of the East Coast and Florida writers are in the International Gamefish Association Hall of Fame. The Gulf Coast and West Coast guys were never recognized with the respect they deserved. Red was instrumental in bringing many National Outdoor Writer’s and South East Outdoor Writer’s Association conferences to the lake area. This helped put our estuary, our outdoor tourism and the area’s numerous guides on the map, so to speak. It contributed greatly to the development of our coastal leisure economy. Many national and regional outdoor organizations still consistently gather in our area to enjoy our natural resources.

Red was also an early voice for conservation in our area. Even things as simple as picking up trash and plastic were new concepts in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Late in life he developed a distain for the ‘90s jet ski fad and was vocal about it.

Red had a sense of humor about his life and the character he played within it. He christened his boat, a beautiful red 20- foot SeaCraft, The Miss Print. The “N” was backwards — a subtle joke to those who knew him. Buddy says the guy who was doing the lettering couldn’t wait to get the boat off his property. Random people driving down the road kept stopping in his shop to helpfully point out the anomaly assuming he had made a mistake.

There’s a spinoff of The Office streaming online called The Paper. The premise is built around a middle-aged paper products salesman who receives a golden ticket within his company. He uses the rare opportunity to revive a failing Toledo newspaper.

Within the first few episodes, I became incredibly cognizant of how privileged I am to be able to still be published “in print” during this strange era of digital media.

Now in my 50s, I feel like a dinosaur most days, anyway. As a young man, I had aspirations of being the next Ernest Hemingway or Jack London.

As a young adult, I was into Kerouac, Brautigan, Salinger and Hunter S. Thompson. But when I matured as a writer and as a man, I realized my playful writing style, love of the outdoors, coastal lifestyle, and sense of humor mixed with an increasing veil of nostalgia may better equate to the writings of Carl Hiaasen or John Geirach.

This disposable age serves to magnify the value of and the need to celebrate the men that came before us, the writers who served our area so well for decades with love and dedication through the faint aroma of fresh paper and bleeding ink.

Red Kohnke was Southwest Louisiana Outdoors. It’s an honor to remember his spirit,

The post A Life In Print- A Tribute To Red Kohnke appeared first on BestOfSwla.

Once upon a time, a boy met a girl. Randall was 17, halfway handsome, Sue was 16, cute ‘n pretty. One minute it’s “Hi … nice to meet you …” next thing you know, it’s a year later, and they’re at the altar saying, “till death do us part.”

They Became the Chessons Randall grew up going to church, but becoming a preacher was not on his wish list. Attending McNeese to better himself, he found himself attending Tuesday night Bible studies at the Baptist Student Union, which is where he caught his first hint of “The Call” to become a preacher. “Every Tuesday it got worse,” says Randall with a grin. He kept quiet about it for a stretch of time, but when he finally confided to people, that he felt called to be a preacher, their reaction was, “Well… it’s about time,” as if he was the last to know.

The Chesson’s have been pastoring at Parkview Baptist Church in Sulphur since 1976. “You start with obedience, and then comes the feelings.”

The Chesson’s had four children at the time. Randall was helping out at two small town churches, Reeves and Fenton, cover them on Sunday, and then come Monday, down the interstate he would go, to seminary, Monday through Thursday. He used to be Randall, she used to be Sue, but after seminary, there began the decades of being Bro. Randall and Ms. Sue.

50 Years of Ministry The Chesson’s have been pastoring at Parkview Baptist Church in Sulphur since 1976. All these decades later, they’ve seen many a change.

Back then, people got dressed up to go to church, and they went to church often, Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night – plus visitation on Tuesdays – add in counseling and hospital visits, plus weddings and funerals, it’ll keep the pastor family busy.

“Used to be,” says Rev. Randall, “the preacher was the draw, the preacher as a public speaker and orator, but then it became more about the church having a ministry.”

Randall and Sue’s Wedding Day: March 19, 1961

The Chesson’s ministry widened. They’ve got a driving school, which serves a community service. The church got into home schooling fairly early. Started out serving five families, first graduating class was six students. Now: they serve a wide swath of families, from East Texas, through Lafayette, and thick in SWLA.

The physical church and the school are complimentary to the mission, “The school needs the church; the church needs the school.”

And Then Came Crisis

People assume that going into the ministry would be a safe, protected life, but the Chesson’s have outlived three of their six children. The first death was a suicide. Ms. Sue says, “Those were some dark days… It was near Thanksgiving time. We wanted to get away from our families, so that our sadness would not affect them.”

They went out of town, for counseling. Somehow word got around at the hotel they were staying at… a man from Lake Charles, who owned a radio station, introduces himself to Randall, and here comes the quote, still potent all these decades later, “Remember — God lost His Son too …”

The Chesson children:
Rhonda Jean, Lenny Shane,
Lisha Suzanne, Rebecca Jo,
Randall James Jr.,
and Lee Stacey

The Chessons go to counseling. They talk, they cry, they why … the session nearly over, the counselor takes the lead – told them to look directly at each other – and there they were, husband and wife, father and mother, two halves of a whole heartbreak — “He made us look at each other — really look — then he asked us to promise, not to throw barbs at each other.” In the retelling, decades later, both their heads nod; it was wise advice Ms. Sue says, “When we got home, my daughter came up to me and said, ‘Mama, I’m here. You have to live for me.’”

That quote was potent perspective medicine. “That’s what we have tried to do.” “With each death (yes, they’ve lost two more children (and 3 grandchildren) we try to live for those that are living.”

They participated in grief counseling, and were later asked to speak to various groups and churches … but then, “I stopped,” said Bro. Randall, “because I found myself in a cycle of reliving the funeral.” Bro. Randall says, “I don’t like the word “closure,” but there’s such a thing as movement.” People cope by their wiring. Both Randall and Sue like to stay busy. “Put your mind on something else.”

That works for Randall, and that also works for Sue. Of course she still thinks about her kids, “When we have a gathering, I wonder, what they’d be like, what they’d look like …”

As for their son, Randall says, “I have no doubt, whatsoever, that he’s in heaven.”

What Have They Learned About Ministry?

After 50 years in ministry, what’s their experience with pastoring like? “Pastoring and preaching,” says the reverend, “are two entirely different things.” That’s two different hats, but many a preacher has to wear both.

First thing they emphasize: the Chesson’s are a ministry team. “She prays for me;

I pray for her; we do church together.”

Rev. Chesson says, “God never gave us up. He picked us up. He insulated us.”

“We’ve had a lot of crisis moments, but never a quitting moment.” A pause, then Rev. Randall says, “After all these decades, God is more capital G than ever.”

What’s being a preacher’s wife like for Ms. Sue? Being a preacher’s wife is a unique relational experience. There’s an awareness, of being looked at, measured, what you say, what you wear, how you carry yourself. And yet, Ms. Sue’s summary is, “I love the church, I love the people.”

What’s 65 Years of Marriage Like?

The Reverend gives a wink. With his wife sitting a few feet yonder, he says, “The secret to marriage is her doing everything I tell her to …” then comes the setup pause, followed by, “but I know what to tell her.”

She winks back. Ms. Sue says, “There’s a different kind of measuring, the closer you get to death. There were good times, and mad times, high times, and some hurting times.”

Rev. Randall says, “For a Christian marriage, you have to keep the Lord between you. You can’t say “I love you” enough.”

One more from the preacher: “It’s hard to be mad at someone you pray for.”

As for Ms. Sue, after all these decades of happy highs and hurtful lows, “We’re two peas in a pod now.”

One thing that applies to both
church and marriage is this,
“She prays for me; I pray for her;
we do church together.”
Daughter Lisha gives these
adjectives to describe her parents:
tenacity; sacrifice; love;
united … Last of the Mohicans.

The post Randall and Sue Chesson appeared first on BestOfSwla.

4723 Common Street. Lake Charles 

My first Orinoco experience was a few years ago. Some of you may remember, before there was a restaurant, a little black food trailer began making appearances across Southwest Louisiana. It was during the 2023 Chennault International Airshow that I spotted the trailer, the symbolic toucan logo and Orinoco emblazoned on all sides, contrasted in brightly hued lettering.

Although it was close to 130°F on the tarmac, and an ice cold dessert would’ve been more refreshing, the street tacos pulled me in. The perfection in flavor from the grilled corn tortillas, tender seasoned steak to the cilantro, onion, and homemade green salsa made me a regular.

The food truck grew in popularity and so began plans to open a full service restaurant. In 2024, that dream came true for sisters, Yuliana and Lina. Colombian born and raised with learned recipes from home. Lina began serving the LakeArea dishes out of the back of her van after Hurricane Laura decimated much of Southwest Louisiana. With the progression from food truck to brick and mortar, the sisters were ready to present Lake Charles with a truly authentic South American cultural cuisine experience.

I had every intent to feature Orinoco during its grand opening. My wife, Shyla and I planned well in advance to attend the monumental day, only to find that everybody else had the same idea.

In all reality, it would’ve been very unfair of me to have any expectations –good or bad– and put them into an article. When it comes to new restaurants, I really do like to give them time to mold themselves into the setting that best fits their model intention. As busy and as well received as it was during the public opening, we were able to grab a drink, congratulate the women on their milestone, and vow to return.

So, yes, some promises take a little longer to come to fruition than others. With empty stomachs and ample time to linger through dinner service, Shyla and I planned our return trip.

We approached the entrance with the sun behind us casting long shadows and debated whether to dine on the outdoor patio or sit at the quaint bar with available seats earning the spot of choice while upbeat and festive music plays throughout the restaurant.

We’re promptly welcomed by several of the crew. Behind the bar, Michelle introduces herself as our server for the evening. New to the Orinoco environment, she’s guided through the nuances, and prepares a couple of mojitos.

Shyla and I flip though the many pages of the menu, realizing the restaurant has definitely evolved since its food truck days. Orinoco has a lot to offer. Everything from a weekend brunch menu, to a vast variety of traditional Colombian and Venezuela dishes, and even a kids menu.

By now, most of you know how we operate. Shyla and I like to pick our way through an appetizer or two, before either committing to more appetizers or moving on to an entrée. Tonight, I choose to start us off with the Caribbean shrimp ceviche. Served with crispy thin sliced plantains, this ceviche packs an abundance of shrimp in lime twang and a nice spicy jalapeño bite.

Shyla continues our appetizer journey with a plate of subtly sweet, sautéed plantains to then dip into the crumbled cotija and fresh crema. This, on the surface, sounds so simple. And it is. But the distinctive flavors and the combination of the three ingredients is rather complex and truly amazing.

For good measure, we add in an order of mini empanadas. If you’re familiar with tamales, these empanadas are along the same line, almost. Using the cornmeal masa to create a dumpling pocket filled with a blend of shredded beef and potato, then fried to a gentle crisp, served with a Colombian aji, a salsa-like spicy sauce, but with more of a deeper, roasted flavor.

When we’re both prepared to move onto the entrée portion we remind ourselves that half the fun is being adventurous and going with the unknown. The other half? Googling food, ingredients or techniques to make it sound like I know what I might be choosing when I order.

Shyla goes with her personal favorite: fajita. This, a marinated thin and tender skirt steak. Not to be confused with a Mexican-style fajita plate, peppers, onions and tortillas, are not part of this meal. This simple fajita is grilled to perfection, served with roasted potatoes and an avocado salad.

I go with the Caribbean Passion Red Snapper. With so many amazing dinner options to choose from, this particular dish stands out. As Michelle places our entrées before us, both the aroma and the way it looks lets me know I’ve made the right choice. Paired with a refreshing Paloma and its tangy salted rim, a trio of fresh tail-on grilled shrimp are placed upon a thick red snapper filet, smothered in a herbaceous and garlicy red sauce. Served with coconut rice and tostones, this beautiful red snapper is firm and flaky, with not a hint of gaminess, and the sauce is undeniably essential to what makes this dish amazing.

It’s almost a shame we waited so long to revisit Orinoco. Or, is it? I have to admit, I believe the evolution of the menu and the creative dishes over time have become cultural dining excellence for Southwest Louisiana. There isn’t one dish we tried that night that I would hesitate to order again. In fact, to duplicate what we experienced, from the service, to the atmosphere, to the foods, I would do it all again exactly the same way. But, with all the variety that Orinoco offers, it would be a disservice to ourselves if we didn’t explore everything possible.

PS: Yes, I had to Google ‘tostones.’

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By TODD C. ELLIOTT

Rody BROUSSARD
AND LYD WALLS

On a humid Lake Charles evening last year, while most people settled into the comfort of routine, local visual artist Lyd Walls dance-stepped deliberately out of hers. Known for expressing emotion through canvas and color, Walls has recently found a new medium —movement. Inside the polished floors and welcoming glow of Bayouland Ballroom, she traded paintbrushes for dance shoes, discovering how rhythm can speak as loudly as art. What began as curiosity soon evolved into commitment, drawing her into a world where discipline, elegance and joy intersect.

In less than two years, Walls’ dedication carried her far beyond the studio walls. Under the tutelage of Rody Broussard, owner and instructor at Bayouland Ballroom, she entered competitions across Texas and emerged victorious — earning first place honors in Cha Cha, Rumba and East Coast Swing. The wins are impressive, but the story runs deeper than trophies. Broussard’s guidance helped Walls channel her artistic instincts into structured motion, proving that creative expression can flourish just as vividly on the dance floor as it does on a blank canvas. Walls’ work in the dance studio has resulted in something beyond accolades. Her journey highlights the powerful health and social benefits of dance.

Regular lessons build strength, balance and cardiovascular health, while sharpening mental focus and memory. Just as important, ballroom dancing fosters connection — between partners, within a community and with oneself. At Bayouland Ballroom, Walls found not only technical mastery, but a welcoming social space where confidence grows, stress fades, and art finds a new way to move through the body. She says that social media started it all. A friend posted videos of herself dancing country swing, and they kept popping up in Walls’ Facebook feed.

“It looked fun, so I searched for a dance studio and found Rody Broussard,” said Walls. “Using your body to express yourself is so different than with painting. It’s more personal. It’s more exposing. There’s a huge vulnerability factor. When I’m dancing, I’m connected to the emotion in that moment for everyone to see. You’re seeing it emerge in real time. There are no edits or do-overs. Surrendering to the music has helped to strengthen my intuition when I paint and to allow whatever flows out to just exist on the canvas without judgment. As an abstract artist, this is vital to my creative process.” In less than a year, Walls learned that dance is a two-sided coin consisting of social dancing and competitive dancing. She embraced both and went from student to champion — a moment that she realized under the tutelage of a dance instructor, dance could be more than a hobby.

“The first day, I walked into class and as soon as I started to move I knew,” said Walls. “My soul just said, ‘this!’ and I had nothing to compare it to. But being coached and trained under someone who has been at it for more than 45 years speaks for itself. The way Rody Broussard focuses on the micro details makes all the difference.” Walls is now a dance champion, and she honors the medium of dance. “Between rhythm dances and smooth dances, the rhythm dances are definitely more me,” she said. “Those include the Cha-Cha, East Coast Swing, Polka and Rumba. I just feel more expressive, in general. I especially love all the Latin rhythm dances. West Coast Swing is a dance that I’ve been really drawn to recently. It’s a combination of rhythm and smooth, and at higher levels, it allows for improvisation within the dance. I can’t even describe what it’s like to create something in the moment with a complete stranger — it’s beyond words, literally. You can only feel something like that. And I am only just entering this realm. The experience is addicting, and I’m always up for the next opportunity.”

Competing in Texas added to her confidence. Entering a Pro-Am dance competition paired her with Broussard — this time as a dance partner rather than instructor. Broussard was the “pro,” as in “professional,” and Walls was the “am” as in “amateur.” But Broussard brought out more than dance moves in Walls.

“I’m a hardcore introvert, so competing — especially in front of a crowd — was way outside of my comfort zone,” she said. “But doing it over and over built resilience. I learned how to sit with pressure and anxiety instead of letting it stop me. Walking onto the floor became easier with time. Being in front of people isn’t actually the hardest part — it’s making myself go out there when I want to throw up. When it’s done, though, I feel incredibly empowered. It’s proof that I can push through a fear I’ve carried since childhood and still carry as an adult.”

Walls says there are mental and physical health benefits to dancing. To dance competitively is to engage your muscles in ways you’re not used to. She said dancing in general makes her feel stronger and improves her posture. Those who “dance the night away” also dance the stress away, says Walls.

Ballroom dancing is often very social. That’s another health benefit — it combats feelings of social anxiety. But dancing also provides a sense of community among the network of social dancers.

“This introvert will never miss a chance to social dance if I can help it,” Walls said. “My social battery usually runs out after a couple of hours, but I can go all night if I’m dancing. I’ve formed close connections with our little crew here in Lake Charles, and I have friends in the dance community that I see and dance with regularly in Houston, Lafayette and Baton Rouge.

“Of course there were moments of self-doubt. But when I decide I want to do something, I’m incredibly determined. I’m passionate. I love learning. And I’m deeply committed to personal growth. Even when doubt shows up, it doesn’t stop me — it just becomes part of the process. I’m always pushing myself to evolve and become the best version of me, and I plan to do that for as long as I’m here.”

Then there’s her instructor and dance partner. Broussard drifts into the hallways of Central School in Lake Charles like a cowboy. He saunters along the hardwood floors; his face underneath the hat tells you he’s been everywhere. Students line up outside Bayouland Ballroom dance studio on Central School’s third floor because Broussard is patient enough to teach what he knows. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he teaches Country-Western and Jitterbug. He also holds a social dance group night. “I ask my students this all the time: Is dancing a science or an art?,” says Broussard as he folds his hands together. “The answer is ‘yes,’ and you either learn it or you feel it. And obviously, you learn it. But if you feel it, then you put a secondary element of performance to it. Even on a social dance floor.”

Broussard says he often gets phone calls from people inquiring about the lessons — a husband who wants to give his wife something special for her birthday; couples lamenting about how they attended a Louisiana festival but didn’t know how to dance; a bride or a groom with no idea how to dance at their own wedding. The bottom line is that every potential dancer wanting to learn has the same desire: to enjoy their life to the fullest.

“Lyd Walls has a love for dancing,” says Broussard. “She’s a natural. She’s multi-talented. She didn’t know she could dance to this level. But everyone starts with social dancing. And if you love the social and want to take it to the next level, then there’s the competition dancing. Most people have a passion. For some it’s fishing; for others it’s quilting. For Lyd, it’s probably painting. And for a lot of people, dancing is extreme, provided that they learn it and practice it.”

Broussard says that on the dance competition circuit, some of the competition judges have dubbed Walls a “hotshot.” Even in her amateur status, he says, she’s remarkably good.

Walls, in fact, was good enough to take first place in the Waltz Across Texas 2025 competition for “Female Pro-Am Pre Newcomer,” and both Walls and Broussard took first place overall as well as first place in the category of Cha Cha. First place for Rumba. First Place for East Coast Swing. The teacher and student saw miles and miles of Texas on the road to Lyd’s first dance competition. And Texas saw them as champions.

Walls indeed waltzed across Texas, and she came back to the Lake Area changed and new.

To anyone thinking about taking that first dance step, Walls has this advice:

“No one is born knowing how to dance,” she said. “Every dancer had a first class, a first step, a moment of uncertainty. We all start from the same place. The community is supportive, because learning never stops for any of us. Courage isn’t about being fearless — it’s about pushing past your fears and choosing to show up for yourself.”

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1165 East McNeese, Lake Charles

Dessert food trucks have solidified their place in the mobile market just as much as those selling tacos, BBQ or burgers. Whether it’s snow cones, ice cream or funnel cakes, we all have a desire for the sweet, cool and refreshing side treats.

Unless you’ve been out of the loop, you may have heard the excitement and buzz surrounding a new type of dessert truck, The ChurrOH Spot.

Ok, so churros. Growing up, I was accustomed to churros, as they were very popular in the Latino and Hispanic communities. A fairly simple concept, they’re made with few ingredients. And they make for a highly desired treat.   Start with a little dough, pipe it through a star shaped tip, give it a quick bath in hot oil, and when it’s reached a slightly crispy edge, pull it, dust it with cinnamon and sugar.  

And if you don’t give it an ample amount of time to cool off, your mouth will be very uncomfortable for a few days.

With all the hype surrounding The ChurrOH Spot, I had to check it out for myself.

Scanning the socials for their location, I came to realize the address put me right at Crying Eagle-University. And this makes so much sense to have a dessert truck located in the front lot, considering the draw that the brewery and The Bistro have. The truck seems to only compliment the overall experience and add to the options for guests.

As I stepped up to order, the trio of women inside greeted me with smiles. Looking at the menu, I realized this was more than just the churro I grew up with. While the standard churro has not changed much, the filling and the addition of fruits, dippers, and toppings has changed the game. And if that is not enough, throw crêpes and cones into the mix.

Initially, I ordered the fresh churros. Hot, crisp and  fluffy, the caramel-like dolce de Leche dipping sauce was a nice touch. And, for good measure, I had to try the Kinder Bueno crêpe.   If you’re not familiar with a crêpe, I think the best way to describe it is a very thin pancake, minus the air bubbles, yet very pliable and doughy.  Now, add a Nutella spread across the surface, chunks of chocolate and wafer cookie, finish it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and it can easily satisfy two people.

At this point, I had completed my primary research, and was prepared to come back in the near future for more. I was mistaken. My plan was altered as I crossed paths with Eric Avery, owner of Crying Eagle Brewing. Eric insisted that I meet Maria, the drive and ambition behind The ChurrOH Spot. With Eric’s attempt to persuade me to try everything on the menu, Maria and I did come to an agreement to try one more dessert while keeping my glucose in check and my doctor at bay.

I watched anxiously through the window as she prepared the Affogato Coffee Bite and Sip.  This is an edible cookie cone edged with dolce de Leche and sprinkled with pistachio. A scoop of ice cream is placed in the cup and then drizzled with hot fresh brewed espresso.   Everything about this was just perfect. The sweet, the crunch, the cold and the flavor-rich warm espresso was literal heaven.

There’s hype around The ChurrhOH Spot is genuinely deserved. This is the real deal, and I’m glad to see that Maria has found her place at Crying Eagle-University

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It has been in place in Lake Charles since before it was called “Lake Charles.” Many a driver has passed it on Hodges Street, yet few have ever seen the inside of the structure that is the third inception of the Masonic Temple, home of Lodge no. 165.

When the maps still read “Charleston” and the Calcasieu River carried more cypress than commerce, a Masonic Temple stood watch over the young frontier town finding its footing. Its cornerstones were laid in an era when oaths were spoken in low light and reputations were built by handshakes — long before neon beer signs and interstate exits defined the skyline. 

The building has endured hurricanes, oil booms and busts, and wars. Its brick, steel and timber absorbed the whispered history of Southwest Louisiana like a well-worn Bible passed from one generation to the next.

Inside, past the heavy doors and the scent of old pine and polished regalia, the story unfolds through photographs carefully preserved by Lodge no. 165. Guiding the tour is lodge secretary Richard B. Smith, an active Free and Accepted Mason since 1981. Smith’s steady stewardship has turned the temple into a living archive. Through sepia-toned portraits, faded banquet programs, and images of past Worshipful Masters standing ramrod straight beneath old gaslit chandeliers, Smith narrates not just the evolution of a fraternity but the parallel rise of the city that grew up around it.

“There are three cornerstones on this building because there’ve been three buildings on this site,” said Smith. “The first masons began here in 1859 when they received a dispensation to start a lodge. In 1860, they got a charter for this lodge. We didn’t get a charter for the city of Lake Charles until 1867. So, this Lake Charles lodge is older than the city of Lake Charles and (chartered) before (the area) was incorporated as Charleston in 1861.”

In 1855, Captain Daniel Goos, who would later became a “founding father” of Lake Charles, arrived in the small, unincorporated village known in the area as Charlie’s Lake, which had a handful of log cabins and a population of Native Americans. Goos was a founding member of the lodge in Lake Charles and attended early meetings on the square in the lodge’s original wooden structure. Before building the first Masonic lodge, Goos built the first sawmill in the area, shifting the dynamic of Southwest Louisiana.

“A lot of the founding fathers of Lake Charles are the founders of Freemasonry in Lake Charles,” said Smith. “This was a lumber town. That’s what the industry was here. So, the first building was wood. And it was used as probably like the Event Center of Lake Charles (is used today), because at that time there were not that many civic buildings around. The first building lasted until about 1910. The great fire of Lake Charles didn’t burn the building, but (the) lodge membership was growing in number and had affluent donors. They built a brick veneer building on this site in 1910. Everything went well, and the building was beautiful. (During the) hurricane of 1918, a large tree fell through middle of the building and demolished it. That’s when the men of the lodge decided to build a virtually indestructible building during the eve of the 1920s, when the economy was bustling.”

The third and final cornerstone on the temple was laid Nov. 9, 1919, by Lake Charles citizen and Grand Master for the Grand Lodge of Louisiana Rudolph Krause. Smith says the structure at 717 Hodges still stands as intended with four course brick walls. It’s a steel superstructure on a concrete slab. At the time, it was one of the best built structures of the era.

“It’s going to be here for a long, long time, as far as we can tell,” said Smith. “Even though it’s well built, the hurricanes of 2020 really caused a great deal of damage. Even though it was an ill-wind, it did blow some good luck to us with some insurance money. We were available to rebuild and renovate the temple. And now we have the original décor of the temple, now with modern plumbing, electrical and air-conditioning. Now it has the comforts of the 21st century.”

So, what’s been going on for 166 years on Hodges Street in downtown Lake Charles? What is a Free and Accepted Mason? Don’t look to the internet if you are seeking information on exactly what freemasonry is. The internet and social media can lead conspiracy theorists down a rabbit hole and describe a supposed “secret society” bent on controlling the world. Smith wholeheartedly disagrees. 

 “First, we are not a secret society,” said Smith. “When anyone drives up in front of this building, one can see that it has the words ‘Masonic Temple’ on the front; it has the symbol of the square and compass on the front. If we were a secret society, you wouldn’t know anything about us. What we are is a society that has private meetings, where we have secrets. Those are our rituals of initiation, our means of recognition, but the things we do in the lodge are things that are intended to help the individual member grow in their personal well-being. 

“Being a man today is lot different than it was 100 years ago. There are a lot more challenges in being a man today than in the past. The philosophy of the masonic fraternity is to make good men better. We can’t make bad men good. But we can make good men better. It’s not a destination. It’s not a religion, though all members have to believe in a monotheistic God. It’s a lifelong commitment. We don’t recruit, either. Any man who wants to join has to ask to join.”

The Grand Lodge of Louisiana, the body that oversees all masonic temples and lodges in Louisiana, has a website that answers some of the questions a young man may have. And, yes, it is exclusive to men. At its core, it is the largest and oldest fraternity in the known world, with an emphasis on the brotherhood of men.

According to the state website, freemasonry has roots that trace back centuries. Built upon ritual, tradition and a shared moral framework, its enduring mission is simple yet profound: making good men better. During eras marked by political upheaval, military conflict and religious division, the fraternity’s emphasis on friendship, compassion and brotherly love has remained steadfast. 

Contrary to common misconception, freemasonry is neither a political forum nor a house of worship. It does not seek to replace or compete with religion. Rather, it stands as a companion to faiths grounded in the belief in one God, welcoming men of varied creeds who share that foundational conviction. 

The fraternity’s historical footprint in the United States is significant. Among its members were many early patriots, including 13 signers of the Constitution and 14 U.S. presidents, beginning with George Washington. Today, freemasonry’s reach extends across the globe, with more than four million members representing nearly every profession and walk of life. 

Inside the lodge, titles and status fall away. Men gather as equals — diverse in politics, varied in background, united in fellowship. What binds them is not uniformity of thought but a shared commitment to moral improvement, mutual respect, and belief in one God.

If, as some opine, Charles Sallier’s house, the first built in the area, is the birthplace of Lake Charles, then the site at 717 Hodges in Lake Charles is the cradle. In the uncertain annals of history, one must believe or accept an historical foundation. It is upon that foundation that cities and citizens build. Builders have come and gone upon the site between Division and Broad Streets. The magnificent face of the building, with its rounded brick corners, looks to the west. Visitors and travelers alike must enter through front door to travel through the building, passing eastward in seeking more light. Now in its third incarnation, the Masonic Temple of Lodge no. 165 has remained, grounded in a historical legacy. While the future is always unknown, one thing that is known is this: Should the temple on Hodges Street fall, another builder will come. A new lodge will be built in the same west-to-east pattern. The lodge stands as a landmark and compass, the original town square. 

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By Madelaine B. Landry

Sure, some of us can’t “rooster like we used to,” but we were recently able to live vicariously as we observe the thrills and chills of the recent Winter Olympic games in Milan. As armchair athletes, we applauded the athleticism, discipline and sportsmanship demonstrated by competitors from all over the globe. 

However, there walk (or run) among us those who like to take it a step further by participating in sporting events themselves, no matter their age. If you’re one of them, consider registering in one or more individual or team events in the SWLA District Senior Olympic Games, to be held April 16 to 24 at the McNeese State University Recreation Sports Complex. 

Hosted by the Calcasieu Parish Council on Aging, the games are open to those age 50 and older. Senior athletes competing at this local level have the chance to go on to compete in the national games in Tulsa, Okla., in 2027. 

More than 12,000 older adults competed in the National Senior Games in Des Moines, Iowa in 2025. That number is expected to increase as this year’s contestants are now training for a chance to compete in Tulsa. This multi-sport competition takes place every two years and is dedicated to participants 50 or older. 

Rosalind Berry, director of the Senior Games, provided some history. “We assumed responsibility for hosting the SWLA District Senior Games from the Calcasieu Parish Police Jury (a separate entity from us) in 2022. Since then, we have partnered with McNeese State University’s Human Services Department. Student-athletes who are enrolled in the related course earn class credit by officiating the games throughout the week. Under our leadership, we have now coordinated Senior Games for four years, and this partnership has been extremely successful.

“Senior Games is not only beneficial for our seasoned adults, but also for the students involved. At the end of the event, students interested in scholarships (one male and one female), submit an essay describing their experience during Senior Games. These scholarships are funded through fundraising initiatives, on behalf of our agency as well as sponsorships that we request each year from local businesses and corporations to support this week-long event.

“In 2025, we had 365 participants, with some traveling from as far as Texas to compete. Our opening day begins with the Bean Bag Baseball Tournament. Last year we hosted 29 teams, and we expanded the tournament to two days this year to ensure a smoother schedule and a more enjoyable experience for participants.

“Throughout the week, we offer a wide range of events, including track and field, fun day activities (baitcasting, billiards at Frosty Factory, bolo golf, dominoes, horseshoes, spelling, swimming, accuracy throws and washer pitch), shuffleboard, a pickleball tournament (Ward 3), bowling, and putt- putt golf.”

Berry emphasizes that these events are open to anyone age 50 and older, regardless of skill level. “Our goal is to encourage active living, community engagement and friendly competition.”

When we turn 50, society deems that we’re suddenly “old” and perhaps can’t do much of anything athletic any longer. Senior Olympics games are designed to demonstrate the faulty logic involved in such thinking. Created in 1969, the games have grown over the decades, becoming an outlet for older adults who are willing to meet a challenge. While preparing themselves mentally and physically to join in events, they also enjoy the camaraderie and encouragement of others who are also in their second half-century of living. According to The National Senior Games Association, the athletic events “showcase the incredible abilities of older adults, provide opportunities for them to compete against their peers and challenge ageist attitudes.”

The International Olympic games have always strived to maintain three building blocks: excellence, respect and friendship. It’s the mission of the events to build a better world through sport, culture and education. That same mission applies to the Senior Games, but with a caveat: Just try to stop us! 

Even if they can’t perform a perfectly executed axel, Lutz or Salchow, seniors are not ready to be put on ice. But over 25 events are available in the Senior Games that shatter senior citizen stereotypes – the pursuit of excellence will never be defined by age. Senior Olympic stories are just as much about perseverance, resilience and triumph as they are about inspiring others to get up and move. 

“The Calcasieu Council on Aging encourages all seniors — whether seasoned competitors or firsttimers — to step out, stay active, and celebrate the joy of movement,” says Berry. “The SWLA District Senior Games aren’t just about winning medals; they’re about friendship, fun, and proving that staying in motion keeps us strong in body and spirit. We hope to see you on the field, the court, or the track this April — because every step forward is a victory.”

Berry graciously contacted a few former participants, who shared their experience and insights.

“Exercise … the best part of it is being able to exercise with a large group of our peers. and then there’s meeting new people each year, as well as reuniting with the one that you’ve met previous years … oh and it’s fun. It’s so much fun!” —  Betty Ann Vanslyke, 78 

“Working together as a team, building relationships with one another — that’s what I like about senior games.” — Pam East, 73

“It helps me stay in shape … I participate in other sports besides bean bag baseball, like outdoor sports, and this tests me in so many ways … my body and mind. Last year, I won 17 medals and was so proud of myself. It was like yeah; I still got it!” — Brenda Jones, 64.

“I enjoy playing the bean bag baseball. The comradery and competitiveness are so much fun. Getting to meet people from different areas is rewarding.”  Linda Gaskin,(ageless!)

Bobsled or luge? Snowboard cross or slalom? Cross country, alpine, or Nordic? You won’t find these events in the SWLA Senior Games, but think about how often you feel like a winner just getting down the stairs without having a tight grip on a handrail. With good coaching, dedication to training, and a competitive spirit of fun, who knows what mountains are ahead of you just waiting to be conquered? 

Feeling motivated or merely curious? Register today at calcoa.org.

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