Why, Hi, Gabby.  Fancy meeting you here again.  How many young people like your companion, J. L. Andrus, have I been privileged to share the gift of life with through the years!  Boys and girls with the same promise in your face, J.L., with hopes and dreams reaching to the very stars.  And oh, how I hope that in just one small way I may have touched their lives for the better!

J. L. Andrus, the young lad standing by Gabby, must have been around 12 years old at the time the picture was taken in around 1950, and that would make him around 64 now.  In a way, he personifies for me the hopes and dreams which animate young people universally, as well as the promise they hold for the future.  I count myself very fortunate to have lived with his grandmother and his aunt in Jennings while I was teaching adults in a trade school there, and to have had the opportunity to build this boat for him.  Finer people you could not have found.  Wherever he might be today, I wish him well.

In one of the general assemblies in the DHS auditorium for which Mr. Harry Hurst, revered principal of Destrehan High School, was so famous, the talk of one of the guest speakers, one Dean Dee Witter from Loyola University, impressed me very, very much; had an impact on the role I perceived for myself as teacher, counselor, administrator and later as father; and has remained with me through the years.  He drew a comparison between the precious stone known as a diamond and the life of a person.  A diamond, when it first comes out of the mine, is a crude and cruddy stone which reflects no light at all.  Then as the diamond cutter cuts one little facet on this crude and cruddy stone, it begins to reflect a little light.  And then as another facet is cut, a little more light shines.  And for each facet cut, more light shines; and for each part left uncut, no light shines.  And so it is with our lives:  each thing we learn to do cuts a new facet on our lives, and the light in us begins to shine; and the more facets we cut, and the better we cut and polish them, the more our light shines.  We become more interesting to be with.  When a baby takes its first step, it’s only a little step, but the light it brings into the home! 

We need to develop our talents, our skills, and our knowledge to become what God intended us to be, and it does not necessarily have to be big things.  If you learn to draw an arrowhead that is sharp and well formed, that’s one little facet which reflects a little light.  Of course, don’t expect to light up the whole DHS football field just with that little facet.  But many small lights can illuminate the stadium.  We’ve all seen night gatherings where each person held up a candle, a lighter, or even just a match – and the stadium is bright!  So it is with our lives.  Every day we can choose to learn and grow – to add a facet to our light.  This is the light of our life that we bring to our family, our community, our nation, and our God.

There’s a lot of truth in the comparison drawn.  Each teacher, each mentor, each significant person in our lives may have only one little bitty facet to help his protégé cut and polish, but if he or she fails therein, then someone else will have to take up the slack.  I hope that I was of assistance to you in cutting and polishing the little facet for which I was responsible.  And I hope, of course, that it was more than making sharp, well-formed arrowheads.

I regret very much that I have misplaced many of the photographs taken in the new shop which might have included some of you when you were in the upper grades, but I conclude this section of my biography with an annotated display of pictures taken over the years which I think are representative.  Hopefully I will locate some of you later to insert here. 

Industrial Arts Students of the eight grade graduating class of 1958 taken between old shop and gymnasium. The students are as follows.
Left to right, kneeling: Boyle Henderson, Joseph Ferraro, Michael Henderson.
Left to right, standing: Gary Macloud, John Brooks, Arsen Pfister, Lynn Waguespack, and Billy Culver.
Please go back to the main page and click on the camera to see some of their work.

Gun Cabinet by Ronald Berthelot, taken by the new Industrial Arts Building, Prof Berard’s Rambler, with continental kit—too bad you can’t see it—in the background.  Henry Baudin and Lynn Waguespack also each made a gun cabinet along the lines of this one. Unfortunately I have not located a picture of either, otherwise I would have included them.

Drafting students in old shop studying some elements of architectural drafting.  From left to Right, Sterling Zeringue, Ronnie Vitrano, James Cunningham, Ronald Thomas.

Sandra Argus, left, and Joan McDonald were the first two girls to brave the previously all-male domain of the Industrial Arts shop. They set the precedent, and we had girls each year thereafter in the drafting classes, and even a few in woodworking. They were a pleasant addition to the program, providing a special touch and charm.

I think this student's name was Vaughn.  The picture was taken in 1965, the year of
Hurricane Betsy when part of the roof was blown off the Industrial Arts/Band building
and classes had to be held in the main building for a while.

Photograph and work by Industrial Arts Club students to make a map of the DHS campus.  Photo taken from front porch of DHS, looking out toward river road.  I can not identify the two students doing the measuring.  Proud to say that the map of the campus was completed to sufficient accuracy to be later used to draw the legal documents for the annexation of an additional strip of land.  Scaled drawings of each floor plan of the main building were also completed and were used to direct presenters at subsequent career days.

The beginnings of a boat in the old shop.  Believe the students last name is Pitz.

Click here to see more shop pictures

Click here to skip the pictures and go directly to the rest of Prof Berard's story.