Remy Broussard’s Christmas was the first novella in the Remy’s Bayou Road series. That story dealt with poverty and bullying and how mankind’s more forgiving and redemptive beliefs can overcome much.
Rings of Trust contains a hard edge. This story reflects a period in the Deep South when Southern aristocracy, not always those in the landed gentry but also those with money’s power, manipulated the anger and disillusionment of the less fortunate for elitist self-preservation, the polar opposite of noblesse oblige. In some respects, pockets of this mentality remain throughout the South.
As far as I know, the surname Franneaux does not exist. I did not want to saddle any legitimate family name with this character’s Klan affiliation and created a name that sounded authentic but wasn’t. An author is supposed to give the antagonist at least one redeeming quality. Me being me, I didn’t think Franneaux deserved the redemption. But, he will re-appear in a later story. Perhaps he will have changed. I don’t know. Some things he has to do for himself and not rely upon my keyboard.
I spent my formative years on my grandparents’ farm in South Central Louisiana. The dirt road, bayou, and drainage ditch in the story fronted their farm. The dirt road was later paved. Over the years, most of the bayou either filled with silt or farmers eager for more land filled the bayou. However, when rain showers began to diminish, concerned farmers worked to reverse the damage. I’m happy to say the significant success continues. I doubt the bayou will return to the days when steamboats plied the bayou, as they did when my grandfather was a young man. But it is nice to see the bayou regain some of the majesty it once had. Sunsets are especially gorgeous.
Mr. Laurent’s farm and Narrow Bridge are creations of my imagination. Although Mr. Laurent’s farm is larger than most, the beef industry is one of Louisiana’s mainstays. Throughout Louisiana, small towns like Narrow Bridge center rural communities. It is not unusual for country roads in South Louisiana to end up in a small town. Since I have absolutely no sense of direction, I felt confident I’d eventually get where I wanted to go, even if someone cut down the tree that marked where I should turn.
What I did do, though, was open the story with the drainage ditch as part of the landscape and end the story with the drainage ditch as part of the landscape. I wanted Nature’s flow to be one of the rings in Rings of Trust, always constant, always there, whether one liked it or not—as were the gnats and flies and pine trees and heat and humidity. I sometimes think one has to be born into Louisiana’s weather. Whenever the plane lands in New Orleans, I can’t wait to get outside and feel that blast of heat on my face, that special smell the Mississippi River has. I long for evenings when the sun fades and the temperature drops enough to thwart perspiration’s beads and the night fills with the cicadas’ mating calls.
The scene where the Klan thunders ahead of a dust cloud is what I witnessed as a child. The Klan rode against my grandfather because some in the organization wanted my grandfather to sell parts of his farm for pennies on the dollar. The land grab failed. Years later, my father told me the real leader of the Klan at that time had been a businessman in our rural hub. The cross-burning scene is what happened to a family friend who challenged the Klan. Community leaders often used economic sanctions to force the Klan to back off. However, only the intervention of the Federal government stopped the Klan’s violence. Unfortunately, a certain Klan mentality exists throughout the South and elsewhere. I doubt that this will ever disappear. For some, the Civil War has not ended, so to speak.
When David Broussard crawls under Madeleine’s porch, his comment about the caves on Iwo Jima is how my father described the caves when he was fought there during World War II. And, like my father and so many of “The Greatest Generation,” David Broussard crisscrossed the United States on troop trains prior to shipping out. This was done to confuse spies who might be monitoring troop movements.
So many have asked what will become of Remy and Madeleine. Well, the next novella in the series will be “Madeleine’s First Blush.” It’s going to be a sweet story. Mais, dat’s all I’s sayin’ ’bout dat fo’ now, cher.
Thank you for reading Rings of Trust. Families, close friends, neighbors, those in a place of worship, the work environment or wherever we divide our time comprise different rings in our lives that sometimes overlap. This should be a good thing and not the result of fear.
Acknowledgments
Rachel Morgan (Morgan Media) designed the cover for Rings of Trust. She also formatted the novella. And, as a Beta reader and cheerleader, she kept me motivated. Rachel, I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done.
I’d also like to thank Colonel Mike Boyce, USMC (Retired); Colonel Bill Peoples, USMC (Retired); Brigadier Matthew Broderick, USMC (Retired), and Brigadier General Dick Vercauteren, USMC (Retired) for their suggestions, attention to detail, and/or information about weapons. Semper Fi.
A big Thank You and Aloha to Philip van Stein in Hawaii for his input about antique weapons.
Thank you to Dr. Siamak Heydarian for keeping the germs away from Jacob and Louie’s hand attached to his arm. I’m grateful to Carmen White, a dear, dear friend for many years, and Rick Conrad for their assistance with oil exploration. Maybe David Broussard will hit liquid gold after all.
Wikipedia was the main source of dates and specifics in the “Historical References” section (cross-checked in various books in my personal library) and was spot-on. Thank you to the many volunteers who contribute to this wonderful resource. The Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Tuskegee Institute provided KKK statistics. The Web site for the U. S. Shooting Academy in Tulsa, Oklahoma, enabled a verification of shooting positions. “Natural and Artificial Aristocracy” (in a letter to John Adams) provided insight about what began in Greece and has continued in various forms.
From the heart, I’m indebted to so many people for their support and encouragement along the way, including: Mariann Alexander; Elizabeth Aulsebrook; Grethe Bachmann; Greg Cannata; Tenley Carp; Brian and Carol Dunn (and Carol’s beautiful mother, Alice); Phil and Patsy Ehret; Susan Fitzgerald; Andrew and Jo Franklin; Beth Johnson; Dana King; Pam Kennedy; Patricia Kustron, Susan Pell; Pauline Platter; Deb Ryan; David Samuels; Wende Sassé; Kyle Thomas; Brian, Chris, and Kevin Vercauteren, and Denise White.
And to my husband, the most important thank you of all: I couldn’t have done this without your patience, support, and understanding. Je t’ame.
About the Author
Kittie Howard was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, and graduated from Louisiana State University with a Bachelor of Science degree. She has worked for the U. S. Department of Defense within the United States and overseas. The United States Marine Corps presented her with a citation for her contributions to its Family Readiness Program. She has served as an advisor to local Red Cross and Navy Relief Boards, the national Armed Services YMCA Board and has coordinated various projects for local chapters of the USO.
Kittie Howard’s novellas reflect her deep roots in Louisiana. Her grandmother’s family came to what is now Louisiana in 1679. Southern Writers Magazine showcased her Louisiana heritage on its blog in July 2012. In association with a Louisiana historical society, her grandmother’s family will be one of three families featured in a book about South Central Louisiana’s pioneers.
Kittie and her husband presently divide their time between Northern Virginia and Louisiana.
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