RACCOONS AND LOUISIANA POLITICS!

February 23rd, 2026

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

RACCOONS AND LOUISIANA POLITICS!

U.S. Senator Bill Cassidy has stirred up a hornet’s nest back in the Bayou State over his Facebook comments of eating a Louisiana delicacy. The Senator had this to say: “Found this raccoon in my backyard. We ate him for breakfast.” He even included a photo of the raccoon. And his Facebook friends went nuts with comments. Who on earth would even consider eating a raccoon?

Actually, racoons and a host of other wild game are a culinary staple where I come from. And I often received a litany of choice critters. As a sole attorney practitioner in Ferriday, I took about any case that walked in the door. Often, my clients were slow paying, or could not pay anything at all. Hunting has always been quite prevalent in northeast Louisiana, and clients would drop off an array of creatures from the wild. I was never short of deer meat, ducks, wild geese, doves, squirrels, frogs, catfish, and yes, racoons. The assortment of outdoor delicacies seemed endless. And luckily, we had a large freezer in which to pack my culinary acquisitions.

Our home back then was a mile off the highway with access by a dirt road that turned to mud in the winter. Often it was hard to get out of the house, even with my winch-loaded truck. So on rainy weekends, we experimented with creating a variety of recipes using our varied meat collection. A backyard garden added to the flavors, and weekend cookery became a de rigueur ritual. Out of all this gastronomic adventure came my cookbook, Jim Brown’s World-Famous Squirrel Stew and other Country Recipes, available at www.TheLisburnPress.com.

In the rural parishes, you learn to be creative and cook about anything. I gave a speech in Jeanerette one day, and as I headed back home to Ferriday, I stopped at a small country general store for something cold to drink. An older Cajun was on the front poach stirring a large kettle. “Wachau cooking?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m cookin’ up a gumbo,” he replied.

“What kind of gumbo is it?” I pursued.

“I’m cookin’ an owl gumbo.”

Hummm. So, I went on. “What’s an owl gumbo taste like?”

He smiled and said, “About like a hawk gumbo.”

Former Governor Jimmie Davis spent a lot of time at his farm in northeast Louisiana, traveling back and forth to the state capitol. Ferriday was about halfway on his route, and he made it a habit to stop by my law office for a coffee break. I was a wet-behind-the-ears, twenty-six-year-old attorney, and often the only one in the office. So Jimmie Davis would sit a while to rest, talk at length about his life, and give me an early preview of what I would eventually learn about Louisiana politics.

He would often ask me to notarize some document, which I was glad to do. “So what do I owe you, Brother Brown?” he would say. I always settled for a few verses of “Sunshine.” He frequently inquired if I could find him a raccoon. Up in redneck country, we just call it a “coon.” His favorite meal was coon stew. Knowing a request would often come with his visit, I asked some local hunters I represented to drop off a raccoon. I would keep a raccoon or two in the office freezer at the ready for the governor’s stopover.

When I was elected secretary of state some years later, I wrote the cookbook mentioned earlier, and the Governor graciously gave me one of his favorite coon recipes to include in my gourmet collection of sumptuous dishes. Here’s good news for you: that same recipe applies to possum. Now I know you’re glad to hear that. So here is Governor Davis’s favorite dish:

Skin and clean coon. Remove musks that are located under each foreleg, and four in the neck. Rub coon with red pepper, sprinkle with salt, add one onion, sliced, and five pods of garlic, minced. Parboil until tender. Place coon in baking dish with three tablespoons of melted oleo and the broth in which the coon was boiled. Place quartered potatoes around the coon and bake at 375 degrees until golden brown.

There you go. You can’t beat that for taste, can you? So all you Facebook berators, quite complaining. Let your taste buds explore a bit. You just might get hooked on racoons and other such Bayou State delicacies.

Peace and Justice

Jim Brown

Jim Brown’s syndicated column appears each week in numerous newspapers throughout the nation and on websites worldwide. You can read all his past columns and see continuing updates at http://www.jimbrownusa.com. 

 

THE HIGHS AND LOWS OF BILLY CANNON-THE TOAST OF LSU!

Monday, February 16^th, 2026

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

 

THE HIGHS AND LOWS OF BILLY CANNON

THE TOAST OF LSU

 

You just cannot keep Billy Cannon  out of the news.  LSU’s all-time football hero was pardoned by President Trump last week.  And this brought back memories of the guy who put LSU football on the national map.

There are certain things you don’t forget. Where you were on 9/11, or when President John Kennedy was shot.  Down here in the Bayou State, add to those special dates Halloween night 67 years ago when Billy Cannon made football history with his 87 yard run to beat Ole Miss and keep the Tigers undefeated. His story is the rise and fall, than the rise again by LSU’s all time sports hero. And guess what? I played a minor role in what became Billy’s personal nightmare and fall from grace.

Even those who are not Tiger fans have to admit it was one heck of a run. Cannon either sidestepped or pushed away tackler after tackler as he weaved his way towards the end zone. I wish I had a dollar for every time the magical run has been replayed on television. You can imagine the crowd’s reaction on most Saturday football nights in Tiger Stadium as one more time the fans in the stadium and the millions on national television once again see Ole’ Billy tear through the Rebel opposition. (You can watch the run on the web at www.jimbrownla.com).

 

This feat by Cannon allowed the Tigers to beat Ole’ Miss 7 to 3, and made him a legend for life. Paul Revere had his famous ride and Billy Cannon had his remarkable run. And ever since, as Halloween draws near, the airwaves are filled with replay after replay of “the run.” Some folks in Louisiana would sooner lock up the kids and throw out the candy than miss seeing Billy strut his stuff on All Hollow’s Eve.

Cannon went on to play professional football with the Houston Oilers and the Oakland Raiders.  Then he went to dental school and built a successful dental practice in Baton Rouge. Because of his popularity, Cannon’s practice flourished to an estimated $300,000 a year, quite a sum in the 1960s.

OK, so how was yours truly involved? It was 1983, and I was in my first term as Louisiana Secretary of State. I was at my office one afternoon when my secretary said there were two Treasury agents to see me, and they demanded immediate attention. (I can speak from personal experience that one should never, ever talk to a federal agent.) They pulled out a hundred dollar bill saying it was a fake, and that it had shown up in the Secretary of State’s bank account.

I had my staff go over all the various billing and deposit records, and we were able to determine that a local attorney used the hundred-dollar bill to pay for a corporate filing. We later learned that in was the first Cannon made counterfeit bill to be discovered in the Baton Rouge area. Others quickly appeared, and a major money printing operation was broken open a few months later. The seventh-largest counterfeiting ring in American history was no more.

For years thereafter when I made speeches around the state, I relished in telling those in attendance how I knew the bill was counterfeit. “You know down at the bottom of the 100 dollar bill where it says “˜In God We Trust?’ Well on the Cannon 100 dollar bill, it said “Go to Hell Ole Miss.’ “ Being a Tulane graduate, I also humorously shared that “You go to Tulane to earn money. But if you want to make money, you go to LSU.”

 

Cannon quickly confessed and helped prosecutors crack the case wide-open. At the sentencing, Cannon told federal Judge Frank J. Polozola: “ what I did was wrong, terribly wrong. I have done everything within my power to correct my mistakes.”

The Judge, known by many lawyers who had appeared before him as, “the Ayatollah Polozola,” then gave Cannon a sentence, significantly more than the others in the ring that Cannon had testified against, of five years in prison and a $10,000 fine. Cannon sold his practice to another orthodontist and surrendered his dentistry license.

To thousands of LSU fans, Cannon’s confession pierced the very heart of their allegiance and adulation of LSU’s greatest sports hero. Like the little boy who pleaded with Shoeless Joe Jackson of the Chicago White Sox on the courthouse steps in the famous “Black Sox” baseball scandal of 1919, all many LSU fans could think of was, “Say it ain’t so, Billy.”

Why Cannon turned counterfeiter is, in the words of Smiley Anders, local newspaper columnist and Cannon’s high school classmate, “One of the great unsolved mysteries in Louisiana.” It was probably because of major financial problems. Cannon had invested in real estate, a shopping center, an office building and other ventures He also gambled heavily on sports and bought racehorses. By 1983, Cannon was involved in nearly 40 financial lawsuits with lending institutions, real-estate agents, utilities and private citizens. Luck, Billy discovered, favors nobody, not even football heroes.

As part of Cannon’s redemption, he took on the job of dentist up at Angola State Penitentiary, an hour’s drive north of Baton Rouge. The guards and inmates, alike, love him up there. Do fans still hold a grudging disappointment with Cannon? Well, when he was introduced a few years ago at Tiger Stadium just after being admitted to the College Football Hall of Fame, the cheering went on and on. Repeated efforts by the stadium announcer to quiet the fans down fell on deaf ears. Neither the President nor the Pope would have gotten such an avid ovation. Billy was back, and all had been forgiven.

Billy Cannon, like few others, has experienced the dramatic highs and lows of being a major sports hero in Louisiana.  F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote that in life, there are no second acts. And Thomas Wolfe wrote that you can’t go home again. Billy Cannon proved them both wrong.

*****

“People associate me with football regardless of where I go except when their tooth hurts. They don’t care whether I played football or not. They just want the toothache to stop.”

Billy Cannon

 Peace and Justice

Jim Brown

Jim Brown’s syndicated column appears each week in numerous newspapers throughout the nation and on websites worldwide.  You can read all his past columns and see continuing updates at http://www.jimbrownla.com.

 

 

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE TABASCO SAUCE?

Monday, February 9^th, 2026

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

 

 

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE TABASCO SAUCE?

 

A recent trip to the east coast to visit a grandson gave me a chance to partake and enjoy Maine seafood, particularly the bountiful supply of lobster.  Now coming from the Bayou State with the best seafood in the nation, my standards are high. And with all due respect to the fine folks in Maine, I was disappointed.

My first food stop was for a lobster roll at one of the seafood joints that are on every corner. Now a lobster roll is simply a hotdog bun filled with lobster meat with a little mayonnaise on top.  Sure, the lobster meat was tasty, but the roll needed spicing up a bit.  So like any other hungry Louisianan would do, I asked for some Tabasco sauce.  “Don’t have any,” I was told.  I received the same response at several other seafood stops.

The lesson here is that our Yankee friends don’t know how to spice up their seafood.  It is often rather bland. Seafood and hot sauce go hand in hand down here where I live.  And Tabasco is the gold standard when it comes to condiments. I was in northern Thailand a few years ago eating lunch at an outdoor cafe with dirt floors along the Cambodian border, and when my rice dish was served, included was the Tabasco sauce.  But I couldn’t find it in Maine.

I first learned about Tabasco sauce in a rather unpleasant way back in 1972.  I was a newly elected state senator and one of my first proposed new laws was to create a Louisiana cancer registry. The Bayou State has what has been called “cancer alley” along the Mississippi River south of Baton Rouge.  My proposal was to direct the Department of Hospitals to put in place a monitoring system to try and determine what was causing such high incidences of cancer.

When I spoke before the Senate to lobby for my suggested legislation, I told my colleagues: “We really do not know what is causing such a high rate of cancer.  Maybe it’s in the air along the river, perhaps it’s in the water, or maybe it’s something we eat.  For all I know, it could be the Tabasco sauce.” As the President would say, my mistake was HUGE.

Remember now, I was a redneck legislator from Ferriday, and back then we did not spice up our food that much.  Not having used Tabasco sauce, I honestly thought the name was generic, like mustard or ketchup.  I had no idea Tabasco was a popular brand name.

Later that night, I was asleep in my apartment at the Pentagon Barracks when the phone rang.  It was a state trooper stationed at the governor’s mansion, and he told me a Mr. Walter Mcllhenny was desperately trying to get in touch with me.  I immediately called him and it would be an understatement to say he was upset.  I explained that I genuinely thought the brand was generic and I profusely apologized. 

I told him I would stand up in the Senate the next day, explain my regrets and try to clarify my mistake. “Oh no,” he admonished.  “That could only make things worse.  Let’s just let it be.”  So  I learned a good lesson, and have become a Tabasco aficionado ever sinse.  I often carry a small Tabasco sauce bottle as I travel, particularly in “bland, food seasoning free zones” like Maine and the West Coast.

Louisiana has to be considered the spice capitol of the nation.  Whether we cook with the holy trinity of spices (onions, bell pepper and celery) or blend in garlic, bay leaves thyme and stewed tomatoes, it’s the herbs, spices and other special flavors that make the Bayou State unique when it comes to succulent cooking.  But of all the ingredients, it’s the hot sauce that really brings out the taste.  And despite my faux pas many years ago, this redneck has become a convert.   Hey, pass me the Tabasco sauce.

Peace and Justice

Jim Brown

Jim Brown’s syndicated column appears each week in numerous newspapers throughout the nation and on websites worldwide.  You can read all his past columns and see continuing updates at http://www.jimbrownla.com. 

 

WHY AREN’T WE THE GREATEST GENERATION?

 

Monday, February 2^nd, 2026

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

 

WHY AREN’T WE THE GREATEST GENERATION?

 

Twenty-six years ago, Tom Brokaw wrote a book about what he called “the greatest generation.” Now, there is a new best seller out calling America today “the dumbest generation.” And since Louisiana is at the bottom of the barrel on most comparative national lists, you can imagine how folks in the Bayou State are viewed. But with all the tools of modern technology where we live in a digital culture with 24/7 information overload, and opportunities for intellectual development at an all-time high, why aren’t we making a run at being “˜the greatest generation?” What conditions existed 86 years ago that set those who fought World War II apart?

 

These questions were the focus of discussions recently in New Orleans at the opening of some new spectacular attractions, all part of the National World War II Museum. The world premiere took place for an immersive, 4-D cinematic journey through this war, produced and narrated by actor Tom Hanks. It’s a breathtaking experience and worth a special trip to New Orleans just to view the film.

 

Battle fields come alive with the viewer as a participant. The movie screen wraps around the theatre so one is immersed in the action. When planes fly over, your seat shakes. When it snows as the Germans invade Russia, cotton snowflakes fall on you from the ceiling. New Orleans historian Dr. Stephen Ambrose, the best-known chronicler of World War II who initially conceived of the museum, would have been proud.

 

Tom Brokaw was in New Orleans for the grand opening and talked about his definition of “the greatest generation “in his bestselling book. “They came of age during the Great Depression and the Second World War and went on to build modern America – men and women whose everyday lives of duty, honor, achievement and courage gave us the world we have today.”

 

Look, there is no doubt that these men and women of the 1940s were resourceful, hardworking and deeply committed to giving extraordinary service to their country. But do we still these same values today? Or does today’s generation value lifestyle over success, who give trophies for showing up at soccer games, and who have been rewarded for little while being told they are “special” way too often?

 

In his book, The Dumbest Generation, Mark Bauerlein has little hope for young people today. The American Spectator summarizes Bauerlein’s view of our young people as “Ignorant of politics and government, art and music, prose and poetry, The Dumbest Generation is content to turn up their iPods and tune out the realities of the adult world. It is brash, pampered, dumb and content to stay that way.”

 

Bauerlein’s theories are being echoed by numerous talk radio shows nationwide. Young people are incorrigible and it’s their way or the highway. They aren’t that well educated, they don’t vote, and they show little respect for values honed by hard work and sacrifice by previous hard-working generations. The rest of us are old, redundant, can’t be trusted, and should be retired.

 

But where is the leadership that was charged with instilling these traditional values? Where is the call for sacrifice, volunteerism and “pitching in” for the higher good? Sacrifice has become quaint in our modern times. Self-sacrifice is so out-of-tune that we’ve turned President Kennedy’s famous line upside down. A politician today saying those famous words could well get ridiculed: “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”

 

In these times, many Americans consider altruistic self-sacrifice to be something only for suckers and losers. A typical example is that even our “public servants” often leave office much richer than when they took office, or at least go on to a much higher paying job related to government in the private sector. Kennedy’s words to many have been rewritten: “Ask not what you can do for yourselves or your country, but what your country can do for you.” Who can forget President Bush’s admonition after 9/11 that the best way to support our country was to “relax and go shopping.”

 

In a state like Louisiana that has so far to go just to land in the median of so many national lists, one would think that a major volunteer effort would be both productive and necessary. Yet the state seems to almost go out if its way to build barriers to efforts by many citizens to pitch in. A retired chemist from a Louisiana chemical plant who wants to volunteer to teach chemistry in public schools must spend a year getting a teaching certificate, at his or her own expense. In my own personal experience, I have taught history at both Tulane and LSU, and served for 8 years as Secretary of State that oversees the state’s historical collections. Yet, I’m not qualified to teach eight grade history in Louisiana public schools.

 

U.S, Senator John Kennedy proposed that every public official in the state spend a little time teaching in local classrooms – a good idea to inspire many young people. When he proposed it to a newly created Commission to Streamline Government in Louisiana, his suggestion was summarily dismissed as unworkable and not practical.

 

Public officials in Louisiana, from the governor on down, are missing a great opportunity by not calling for more volunteer public service. Teaching in classrooms, giving time to help in hospitals and daycare centers, volunteering so much time each week at the local food bank, a homeless shelter, Red Cross, animal shelters, teaching adult literacy, the list goes on and on.

 

And do you fly the flag? No, not the LSU or Saints flag, or a flag for each season of the year – The American flag. Do you have one up? I fly mine 7 days a week. Do you? Maybe all this sounds corny, but these listed efforts build the fiber of what makes up a “great generation.” With due respect and admiration to my friend Tom Brokaw, I don’t believe any one generation can take credit for being “the greatest.” Things happen. History is recorded. History gets interpreted. Subsequent generations reinterpret it.

 

Louisiana and the nation are looking for leaders who will lead in calling for a major volunteer effort from citizens of all ages. Government cannot do it alone. There are many who want to contribute and volunteer. They just need to be told how, where and when. And that’s where real leadership comes in. Inspiring and instilling a sense of commitment to public service.

 

At dedication ceremonies in New Orleans some years back, one special guest was a highly decorated
World War Two veteran named Corporal Carl Grassman. He lives with his wife in Detroit and he works as a Wal-Mart greeter. When told he would be honored at the museum and his travel expenses would be paid, he declined saying his fellow employees needed him too much and he would feel terrible if he left them for this one day to be so commemorated. When the Wal-Mart brass heard this story, they flew Carl and his wife to New Orleans in the Wal-Mart private jet.

 

There are millions of men and women like Corporal Grossman who do their job each day and want to do even more to help their community, their state and their country. They are just waiting for leaders to give them direction and set out a game plan of progress so that they too can lay claim to be one of the “greatest generations.”

 

Peace and Justice.

Jim Brown

Jim Brown’s syndicated column appears each week in numerous newspapers throughout the nation and on websites worldwide. You can read all his past columns and see continuing updates at http://www.jimbrownusa.com.