This is the long road between the Twin Span bridge and New Orleans East. That little white speck is a boat. The lake is miles away. It's mostly marshes and swamps, even now. After a big rain, sometimes crawfish will swarm out of the swamps onto the shoulder of the road, making a little traffic jam as drivers pull over and gather up as many as they can in buckets, or coolers, to bring home for dinner. One time, in a drunken stupor, my stepdad confessed to my mom that, as a teenager, he and a few other boys had raped and killed a girl, and dumped her body under one of the off-ramps on this road. My mom said that was the most scared she's ever been. And she's had a lot of scary times.
Dry Bones - Bascom Lamar Lunsford
1 comment:
I wish I could have met him. I don't know where I first heard him, but I was a littlin', and his crazy name always stood out.
posted by: siege on 9/20/2005 1:02:38 AM
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I find it amazing that someone actually knows about Bascom Lamar Lunsford, a man I met (when he was still alive, obviously) and wrote a song about. I knew him because he lived in my home town. You?
posted by: ffgale on 9/15/2005 10:15:33 PM
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