Columns

With the temperature climbing higher every day, it was welcome news in Crowley in the early summer of 1923 that the town’s first ice cream plant would soon be ready for business. Until then, local vendors there and in most other south Louisiana towns had to make their own, usually in a hand-cranked freezer, which was time consuming and produced uneven results.
There were a few bigger plants in south Louisiana who churned out ice cream that they claimed was not only good, but good for you, but it was still an infant industry.

Of course, you would like to have a good, if not great, day. Who doesn’t want everything to fall into place? Every traffic light turns green just as you get to it. The weather is perfect. All the people you come into contact with are in a happy mood. You feel wonderful. Regardless of what you encounter, you emerge smelling like a rose.

At the end of World War I, the poem “In Flanders Fields” by Lt. Col. John McCrae of the Canadian army became something of a national reminder of the valor of the young men who fought and died in France in the “war to end all wars.”
It reads in part:
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard among the guns below.