Paternal Side - Stoessell and Kent Families |
Maternal Side - Prieto and Koop Families |
My father Al had attended Tulane from 1924 through 1929. During the early 1930s in the Depression, he shared a New Orleans apartment with Hodding Carter II (later Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist) and Charles Austin (Slew) O'Neill, an attorney like his father who had been Chief Justice of the Louisiana Supreme Court. I'm told the three of them made a lot of bathtub gin during Prohibition. I never met Hodding Carter, and although we corresponded and talked on the phone, I only met Slew once. Slew represented my mother, after Al died, in the 13 year Arnett lawsuit which involved about 3200 acres of Prieto land. We met at the Covington Courthouse in February, 1981 when the case was settled. After walking out of the courthouse together to the parking lot, I pulled out the family checkbook to pay him for years of legal work. He was an old man by then but stood tall and steady, and he looked me in the eyes and said "Ron, I did this for Al." We shook hands, and he got in his car and drove away. I never saw him again. I think Al inspired friendship throughout his life.
Fluker died young in 1886, in his early 40s, leaving a widow and large family.
One of his sons, Richard Amacker Kent (1871-1926), 15 years old at the time, gradually took over responsibility for the family. Richard eventually bought thousands of acres of land a few miles south of Kentwood in an area known as Hyde, renamed it Fluker after his father and founded the unincorporated village (about 1890) where he established a lumber yard and brick yard and other prosperous businesses. His wife Susan Freiler Kent (1877-1966) was the matriarch of the Kent family until her death. I remember her as Aunt Suzie.
He ended up in Tangipahoa Parish in Louisiana working in the lumber industry. Alfred Sr died of prostate cancer in 1934 before I was born. There are so many questions I would have liked to have asked him. Al said his father considered himself retired when he was growing up in Hammond, LA. He had been working as a bookkeeper for the Natalbany Lumber Company. Al remembered him tutoring Latin to the local high school students. But much of his spare time was spent drinking beer with his German compatriots. Life was good for them but not financially rewarding. My mother recalled visiting them in Hammond during the Great Depression and being fed only tomatoes.

Aunt Persis married Thomas Edward Mulcay (1899-1939) a US Navy man. Their only child Margaret Catherine (1922(?)-2016) married CDR Hugh Benton Burris (1918-2010), a handsome Naval Air Corps officer whose good looks were passed on to their three children: Marsha Anne, Hugh Benton (Bubba), and Sue Ellen. When the kids were growing up, they lived in Bermuda where Hugh was stationed. I remember this because they gave us a large brain coral from Bermuda which fascinated me. After Hugh retired from the military, he worked at the Texas A&M Uiversity campus in Kingsville, Texas. Eventually they moved to Friendswood, Texas, when Hugh retired from the university. Marsha became an attorney in New Orleans and later helped me through a divorce and to settle my mother's estate. When I was a LSU undergraduate, Marsha's portrait, a wedding present painted by Robert Rucker, hung in the main stairwell in the LSU Library. She was (and is) a beautiful woman with a taste for life (four marriages that I know of: Webb, Healy, Higbee, Martin). Her second husband John Healy was an ex-Chicago cop and a History Professor at Southern University near UNO where I taught. John was a great story teller, full of Irish blarney and drank good whiskey. Alan Thompson, a geologist friend of mine, once asked him to bring a piano, in the back of a pickup truck, over from New Orleans. John had to cross the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway to reach Mandeville. When he arrived, there was no piano. So Alan asked where his piano was? John replied "What piano?" Somewhere at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain is a piano. (LOL) John died, I think, as he would have wanted - a headon collusion on a Spanish coastal road overlooking the Atlantic (or so I remember). Marsha later moved back to Friendswood, Texas to help care for her mother Margaret Catherine. Bubba is a Texas physician with a passion for tennis, worked in Galveston and practices in Webster near Friendswood. Sue Ellen Burris Chapman presently lives in El Lago, Texas. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to keep up with these Texas cousins.

After graduation from LSU in 1930, my mother Cellie spent several years in the early 1930s as a high school teacher of Spanish and typing, and she was also the girls' basketball coach at Hammond High School. She humorously recounted this story to me of her first game as coach. The game was in Mississippi. The Mississippi girls were big and mean and told her team they would beat them up if they scored any points. They didn't and the final score was like 50 to zero (lol). In Hammond, Cellie roomed in the home of family friend Jimmy Morrison who later became a long-time US Congressman. She enjoyed teaching, as I did years later. Cellie came from a wealthy family background but she did not take herself seriously and was unpretentious in her dealings with others. She continually inspired me to do my best and to keep trying.
I know that - in spite of "solid" German upbringing, he became a "rascally Yankee," because his Civil War discharge paper in December, 1863 was as a seaman from the US Navy. He must have been wounded since the discharge was from the US Naval Hospital in Norfolk, Virginia. I remember seeing a paper saying he was a tin smith but I have not been able to relocate that paper.
The Prieto family has had the sea in their blood down to Ernest. Maritime Records indicate the old Sea Captain Vincent Sr owned schooners in the 1860s, including the 22 ton Republic in 1862 which was built in 1859 and later confiscated by Union forces and the 29 ton Quincy in 1869 (originally 25 tons when built in 1857). Family lore has him also owning the Emily, The Surprise, the Three Sisters, and other schooners. He had a chestful of Confederate money in the attic of his home after the Civil War which I think he probably made as a blockade runner. Newspaper accounts also show him as the plaintiff in a civil suit with A J Thomas in New Orleans which resulted in the Josephine 2, one of his schooners, being sold at auction in 1875. His son Vincent Prieto Jr was also a sea captain, and Jr's son Ernest (my grandfather) later maintained several schooners on Lake Pontchartrain for coastal trade purposes. In 1872 Vincenti Prieto Jr married Pauline Caroline Sharp (1855 or 1857-1882), daughter of Margaret Connor (O'Connor, O'Conoly, ?, 1830-1888, born in Ireland) and Aaron Plum Sharp (1827-1906). If born in 1857, Pauline married at the young age of 15! It was through this union that the Prietos became linked with the extensive Sharp and Spell families in St. Tammany Parish. Plum's mother was Sarah H. Spell (1791-1851) and his father was Joseph Sharp (1794-1866). Vincent Jr. and Pauline both died young. Pauline died from childbirth in 1882 at age 25 when Ernest was only 5 years old. She had four children: Vincent Anthony (Tony, 1875-1939) and my grandfather Ernest and two later children who died shortly after birth. We believe Vincenti Jr. died 4 years later in 1886. Family lore says he went to New Orleans on a trip, possibly caught yellow fever, and passed without returning to Mandeville. We do not even know the location of his grave. A more likely story from Cellie was that he died of a leg injury; however, there is no grave in the Mandeville Cemetery where Pauline is buried. But, in support of Cellie's version, I have an old hand-written power of attorney from Vincenti Prieto Jr to Vincenti Prieto Sr, dated August 20, 1886, asking his father to take over all his affairs and clearly written in anticipation of death. There is no mention of Pauline in this document since she had already died. Ernest was about 9 years old at the time of his father's death.
The two-story family home with its cistern and water well fronted Gerard Street, and adjacent to it was the brick general store (Ernest Prieto and Sons) with a bar. During Prohibition, the family still had a lot of unsold liquor in the cellar of the general store and could legally drink it, just not sell it. Cellie related that the alcohol consumption with family friends there drove the Federal Liquor Agents nuts. The Boston Globe reported Ernest was arrested on September 22, 1924, for having thousands of bottles of wine (LOL) in the basement of his store under suspicion of planning to distribute across the nation. They said the brains of the plot, a Mr. J. B. Hemmingway was arrested leaving the Prieto yard. I don't know how this ended but it must have been an interesting scene! The store formed the SW Gerard Street corner with Jefferson Street, and next to it on Jefferson Street was a small post office that Ernest built for the town. Mack's house was adjacent to the Post Office. Along Jefferson and Gerard Streets were homes built by the family for rental income, for their workers, and for family members, e.g., Preston's home on Gerard Street which connected to the family pasture in the center of the block. And within the surrounding blocks were more rental homes built by Ernest. He was an accumulator, not a seller of property.
The family slaughter house was located outside Mandeville, on land off highway 1088 across from the main barn which we called the "Old Place". I've heard there was a smaller slaughter house located on family property north of Lacombe but it was gone by the mid 1950s. The cattle were free-range bush cattle. There was a 10 mile stretch of connected parcels of family land that ran from the "Old Place", staying north of present day Fontainebleau State Park to just west of Fish Hatchery Road, north of Lacombe. Ernest owned about 6,000 head of cattle and 7,000 acres of land, mostly outside of Mandeville, but these were generally woodlands, not pasture, in different and often disconnected and unfenced parcels. There just wasn't enough forage for thousands of head of cattle so they roamed freely along with the cattle of other cattle owners. Once, while driving cattle in the woods in 1925, Ernest's horse slipped while crossing a deep ditch, and fell on him, breaking his leg and putting him in a New Orleans hospital for 8 months. The big cattle roundup occurred in the spring. Cowboys branded the calves for the different cattle owners with ownership based on the brand of each calf's mother. The Prieto brand was V7. My brother Lloyd participated in cattle roundups in the 1950s taking place at the "Old Place" and on the old Stagecoach Road to Lacombe near the "big Oaks" at the corner of Rapatel and Labarre Streets. During the year the cattle were selectively caught to be taken to auction or slaughtered for meat for the store. These were mixtures of Texas Longhorn and Brahmin, tough and mean cattle that could take the Louisiana heat and insects. It was fun to watch them chase the auctioneers around the pit when being sold. When I met them on foot or on horseback in the woods, I moved aside to let them by. And they were impressive, running in groups in nearshore waters of Lake Pontchartrain with big V shaped water sprays following them thundering across the shallow flats.


Cellie and Marion were very close friends throughout their lives. Aunt Marion graduated from high school in 1924, two years ahead of Cellie and attended Southwest Louisiana College in Lafayette, graduating in 1928. Cellie joined her there in 1926 and then transferred (after Marion's graduation) in 1928 to Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge at the Old State Capital Campus (old U.S. Arsenal site). She was a Delta Zeta at LSU. She and Marion had a great time in college, belonging to the same "local" soriety Phi Delta Epsilon and working with the college newspaper at Southwest Louisiana College. Marion was a gifted writer and should have been a journalist. After Cellie graduated from LSU with a BA in 1930, she and Marion did the Grand Tour together in Europe, the summer of the following year. In 1933, they went together to the Chicago World's Fair. Meanwhile, Cellie taught high school in Hammond, rooming with the James (Jimmy) Morrison family, until she married Al in 1935. James Morrison was later a congressman from Hammond. Before marrying Al, Cellie did one more trip with Marion, spending the summer in Mexico City in 1934, where they attended the National University of Mexico. Cellie kept copious notes of those years after graduation and before being married. She was a party girl which I never realized when growing up. At LSU she wanted to major in Geology which is what I later did, certainly influenced by her love of the subject. At that time, women were only allowed to take the freshman geology courses which she took in college. Education was Southern Society's preferred career for women in the first half of the 20th century, and she later received a teaching certificate.
While the girls went off to college, Uncles Preston and Clay stayed home to help their father Ernest with his various businesses. Ernest compensated them somewhat by giving them land and building their homes. Years later I came to understand the resentment they felt because they had been forced to work at an early age for the family, feeling the girls had a care-free existence and then showed up for their share of the inheritance in 1955 on the death of my grandmother Momsy (May). (Years later I felt similar emotions when I came back to Louisiana after graduate school to help Cellie and look after the family interests because Marilyn and Lloyd were generally absent after the late 1960s.) But Momsy had lived with us in New Orleans and Crowley in winter for the last 11 years of her life and she depended upon Cellie. My mother felt like she was doing her share for the family. The resentment was an open wound in the late 1950s with the issues of the family cattle, the lumber mill, and the family land partitions. But I always liked Uncle Preston and eventually became good friends with Uncle Clay.
In the late 1950s, on receiving a tip, my mother went to a cattle sale in Slidel and discovered family cattle being sold. She confronted Uncle Preston. Both had tears in their eyes, and there were never again problems between our two families. In February of 1957, Cellie and Marion received a letter from C. E. Corry, the bookkeeper at the family lumber mill, saying proceeds from lumber sales were not being reported to the family. I still have that letter, and those were volatile times. One afternoon Uncle Clay came bursting into the old family home to confront my mother. She retreated to her Mom's bedroom, closed and locked the door, reached under a seat cushion and picked up a revolver, a 5 shooter, as I recall from playing with it as a child. Uncle Clay was banging on the bedroom door. She yelled out for him to leave or she would use the gun to protect herself. Clay left. Clay was a rough, tough guy who was Mayor of Mandeville at the time but Cellie was not to be pushed around. But by the early 1960s, the family interests were split up, eliminating problems except those related to real estate partitions. The timber on the family lands was sold. The general store and family house went to Uncle Preston. The lumber mill was dismantled with the equipment sold to the Kent family (Stoessell relatives) in Fluker, and the remaining family cattle were purchased by Uncle Clay. For a few years Clay still played games with Cellie's interest. He surreptitously dismantled the "Old Place" barn which was now on her property and rebuilt it as part of a new barn further east on highway 1088 on his property. He moved a building on her property within the lumber mill square, without her permission, to his property on the bayou to use in his boatyard. As I look back, I understand Clay's feelings. After his father Ernest died in 1944, Clay had supervised building more rental houses for the family, ran the family lumber mill and cut and sold timber for the family, and (with Preston) looked after the family cattle. He had built both the "Old Place" barn and also the building on the lumber mill square. Cellie was not going to keep livestock and the barn would have rotted away from disuse. Nevertheless, he should have paid Cellie for the building on the lumber mill square, and it was a life-long source of irritation with her.
Preston called me Boy, the same as he called Troy Jackson Jr, his son-in-law. Preston would jokingly refer to Troy as "that Boy who married my daughter and I can't remember his name." Troy was actually a beloved school principal in Covington who was loved by the family. My recollections of Preston are sitting on his back porch with my Dad and the two of them drinking whiskey, retelling old stories. Al and Preston were great friends. I could have had my first shot of whiskey with them on that back porch. Although in retrospect, that probably wasn't true because in Louisiana, we start young.
Aunt Marion was the most articulate and opinionated member of the family. She and her husband James P Moore (Jimmy, 1909-1978) lived in Crowley when Jimmy and Al were business partners. Jimmy was a very handsome likeable guy. Cellie said that he and his brother Tommy had played in the Schilling's Society Serenaders, a jazz band in New Orleans. Jimmy skippered a PT boat in the Pacific during World War II, and had graduated from Tulane Law School. I don't think he ever practiced law. His family had run the New Orleans Mint in the latter part of the 19th century and had donated the land for the Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church and Catholic School in Mandeville, adjacent to their family home. After the Crowley Studebaker Dealership failed, Jimmy did legal abstracting for a few years in Crowley. A relative of my first wife Louise Baenninger told me that he was abstracting with Jimmy in the Crowley Courthouse when Jimmy stood up and announced "Life is too short to make a living this way." and walked out. He never went back to work. They settled back on their inheritances from the Moore and Prieto families, living in Mandeville, in a beautiful 19th century raised Lakeshore Dr home in the 1700 block that they named "High Tide" (see pictue on the left). As a child I remember that place as the old Si Hickey house. Marion was known for her sharp tongue and clever replies. She delighted in taunting me that someday I would be just like her, an assertion I vigorously disputed and deny (lol) to this day. Jimmy died of a heart attack in a Beirut Hotel on a vacation in Lebanon. Years later, I asked his son David why they buried Marion separately in the Prieto Family Tomb, away from Jimmy. He replied that his father deserved a break.
Marge was a very talented, dynamic woman who ran the Head Start Program in St. Tammany Parish and later had a jewelry and art shop in Taos, New Mexico. Her first husband Robert (Bob) Hanisee from Crowley was a great guy who taught English at the University of New Orleans and at Southeastern Louisiana University in Hammond. Leaving academia, Bob served as a state department head supervising state parks in an early administration of Governor Edwin Edwards in Baton Rouge, before eventually moving his family to Taos, New Mexico in 1986. He was a triathlon athlete who died tragically in New Mexico, struck by a drunk driver, as he trained by running along a highway shoulder one snowy morning in February, 1987. They had two children, a daughter Erin (married name Smith) living in Albuquerque and a son Miles, a judge on the New Mexico Court of Appeals. Marge died early in 2021, and we lost a wonderful spirit.
This last story about the Prietos concerns the Lemieux Brothers. They were partners with Ernest in the first 20 years of the 20th century in numerous land dealings, including buying the Jackson Lane Subdivision north of Mandeville. This was a bankrupt subdivision with about 5,000 small lots, laid out on paper with only a few hundred lots subsequently sold to spectators and absentee land owners in New Orleans. The abandoned titles to those lot sellouts, along with those in other subdivisions (Birg Boulevard, Helenbirg Lots and Farms, and Glendale Heights Farms), obtained through the Arnett Tax Sale were the subject of many family lawsuits in the last half of the 20th century. Eventually Ernest bought out the Lemieux Brother's interest in their joint properties. The Lemieuxs lived on the Mandeville Lakefront in a cottage that later survived the tidal surge of Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The external symmetry of the cottage makes it (in my opinion), the most beautiful home on Lakeshore Drive. Mrs. Lemieux died in this home. My mother said she was found standing up, leaning against the fireplace mantle with her dog lying at her feet. Rigor Mortis had set in and held her in a standing position. I can never look at that cottage without having the vision of an elderly woman standing inside, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, her dog at her feet.
