Great news! Jack Conrad Thibodaux Massacre Foundation and Museum has been incorporated and it has received its 501(c) 3 tax exempt status. Now we have a board, Wiletta Ferdinand, Chair, Somesha Ferdinand Carriere, Vice-Chair, Linda Brickham, Secretary, Tracey Thibodaux, Treasurer and Sylvester A. Jackson, member -at-large.

We have plans to start a small scholarship programs for high school students in Thibodaux History/Social Studies classes We have been looking for a blighted  building in Thibodaux that the city may let us have to open our museum and we plan to present a PowerPoint presentation to the African American Departments at the local Universities.

 The museum will be contemporary and historical. We will blend the two to have a place of education, art and historical documents.
We are excited that Jack Conrad, Grant Conrad , Marcelin Weldon and the other victims of the Thibodaux Massacre will have a place of memory and honor.
We have  a letter that we will send to family, friends and supporters who may send us donations. We have opened a checking account in the name of Jack Conrad Thibodaux Massacre Foundation.

 God is on our side and we are the voice of Jack Conrad.

Jack Conrad's Mother -Quiet Thoughts

Jack Conrad’s Mother

My name is Mary and I am one of many Mary’s in my family that will bear this name .But I have a story to tell and a life to share. I am 21 years old, but I felt so old I feel; like I have been on this earth a long time. My life as a girl was quite good. I lived in New Orleans and we had celebrations on Sundays and we were taught about God and prayers. I even had a pair of shoes. My mom was very fair and beautiful and she was the housemaid of a very rich family. The family that owned us had many children and they lived in the Quarters. I had simple tasks to do as a girl. I don’t remember working hard, but I guess they kept me busy.  The older girls were very nice to me and told me how pretty I was. I am not sure who my father was; I don’t remember him being a part of my life

 Life was good until I started growing up. The white men who would come to visit my owners would look at me different. My mom tried to keep me looking young with my hair in plaits and my clothes big, but that helped for a while. Eventually everything changed and by the time I was fifteen my life was changing drastically. I had a brother who was hired out to work for some other white people, so we seldom saw him. My mom was afraid she was going to lose me also and her fears were tested many times. The pain my mom knew was a way of life for people like us. We didn’t have control of our lives; even our minds were controlled to an extent, but our spirit was always strong and free.

Now life has taken me to a strange place. This place is small but the people seem to be nice, but you never know about white folks; they may smile in your face and sell your babies during the night. The man and lady who just brought me are looking at me quite queer; they ask me my name and names of my two children. My baby is just six weeks old and my other son is three. I have not even given my baby a name. I have been in so much pain and trying to figure out why and where I was headed. I was the property of a man in New Orleans and he treated me ok, but I was his property. I had his children and politics has forced him to move back to Europe, so he found a place for me in this place. He could have given me my freedom and I could have become one of the many free people of color in New Orleans.

There are not many slaves here. I only counted five. (Cailluett Plantation archives)

Yes I have limited reading and counting skills. My new owner is Jacque Caiilluett. And his wife is name Maria Clara.

She likes my baby and called him Jack; I guess that will be his name.

 An older Black woman also meets us at the gate : ” Girl, pick up your things and go with Mamie to that house!  I was brought for $1000; me and my two children. The price seems cheap for three lives, but the owner is probably doing my former owner a favor by taking us in because it seems like this place does not need any more help. “Move faster and give me that baby; acting like  you is lost; you gon be alright here, I am gon take care of you til you can work. Beautiful baby; daddy must be a white man; that’s alright; we’ll still love him. Love will make him strong.” Mamie kept talking, but I was so tried, I sat down in the cabin and went to sleep.

I slept all night and when I woke up the next morning; the lady of the house was sitting in the cabin holding my baby. I was scared at first. But she kept talking to him and rocking him and I felt he was safe because she was kind to my baby.  Jack was very fair, but Telsamo was darker , but with slow dark hair and very handsome. Jack had grey eyes and I was hoping she did not think this was her husband’s child. She sort of took to him and Mamie looked at me from the corner of her eye for me to take my baby and feed him. Mamie was docile, but wise. She took me to hold on to my baby and let the lady know I loved him more than she did.

This  is such a quiet place; the other slaves are moving about their chores ; two women in the yard, one in the house and the two men are in the small field. I sat on the steps of this humble shack with my baby and fed him. Jack was a gentle baby with a good disposition. Telsama was playing in the yard in front of me. What can a woman with 2 babies do on this plantation, but eat and grow strong to work hard.

Mamie calls for me to get up and help her with the washing. I am still weak , but I put Jack on my back and move towards the tubs. Mamie talking loud, “Girl, git over here and put them clothes on the line; I knows you ‘s weak, but you got to earn your keep; she winks at me; asif to let the owners know I am working. She is talking loud enough for everyone to hear. But you know this maybe her way of helping me. I move slowly-trying not to wrestle with these wet bundles. I stumble and almost fall and I felt Mamie’s arms cradle me; she sits me down without saying a word-takes the clothes from me and hang them up and saying loudly, “ you did a good job, before long you will be strong enough to do the laundry by yourself and I can stay in the kitchen; she winks at me again as I sat on the ground in dismay. I feel like I have an ally for me and my children, but only time will tell.

A few minutes later, I feel a little stronger and I walk back to the tub of clothes and as I whisper “thank you” to Mamie, I pick up a bundle of wet clothes and move towards the line. I hear Mamie talking loud,’ alright , watch Jack on your back, that baby looks like he grew overnight; that country air  makes him strong.” Soon as Mamie said that , the mistress had come out on the porch , “Mary , let me hold Jack while you hang those clothes.”

The mistress seems to love Jack. I wonder if she has lost a baby or if she wants a baby. She seems a little old, but maybe Jack reminds her of a baby she lost. I walk towards her and sit Jack in her arms. I know she will protect him; he will never see a whip on his back as long as she is alive.  We keep working and Mamie disappears into the big house and start cooking. She tells me to sit on the steps and she will bring some potatoes for me to peel. The mistress is still holding Jack. Telesmao is playing in the dirt. There are a few children on the plantation, but none as young as my children. It is the end of summer, but it is still very warm. As I peel the potatoes, My body needs to feed Jack and I tell the mistress I need to fed Jack. She hands him to me and tells me ‘careful with ‘my Jack’. I am still tried from life, but I am life and what journey life has taken me.  I had my first baby at 17 which is not uncommon for slaves and  my children’s father was the slave master who owned me. He had many children from his wives and my  relationship with him was about sex, not love. I did not experience love with him, but he did give me a home and I was treated pretty decent. He gave me something more than love; he let me keep my children, who are my most precious possessions. My children father brought me from New Orleans to a small town in St. John the Baptist Parish. He had a large family and he had a wife and many children, Some of his children died as infants. His first wife  died before I was born and he married a second time and his second wife did not have any children. When I came to the plantation he was on his third wife. His plantation was small only 13 slaves while I was there. He was moving and trying to sell all his belongings. But I am thinking he had other businesses or maybe another plantation with many more slaves. But that is not my plight. My most important reason for living is the two little boys that are enslaved like me. I have to figure out a plan that will keep us together and make sure they grown up to be strong men.

Jack is growing more and more like his father in image, but he has a constant cough that maybe asthma. We don’t have any clothes, just the clothes on our backs. The mistress of the house has a little girl between Telesmao and Jack’s age. She gave the old lady who I live with some clothes for Jack. At this age it does not matter  what kind of clothes he wears, just so he has some clothes to keep him warm. I manage to make a shirt for Telesmao. My children don’t have shoes; that is heartbreaking because I remember shoes when I was small. But this arrangement was suppose to be a better life for me and any children I might have. But here I am on a small farm not a free woman of color but enslaved and sold into slavery  with my children. What kind of man would do that to his children and the mother of his children? But I must protect my sons as best I can. I must teach them to work hard, to maintain their freedom of spirit but to disguise it . I will try to tell them stories of my family and my history what little I know.

The old lady is calling me to get some chores done. I put Jack down and remember I am a slave; I belong to someone else and I must move when they say move, walk when they say walk, talk when they say talk. What a life! But what a life for my sons. I must stop thinking in the day time and save my thinking for night.

“ Finish feeding our baby, Jack, ; let me hold him while you finish the washing and put those vegetables on the kitchen table.  Hey, baby Jack, you gon be alright, Big Mama gon make sure you grow up strong. I;; tell you the secret to survival on this here place.” She goes on talking to Jack as if he understood. Her. “My babies are all gone, some in heaven and some in land I don’t know nothin about. I had three boy babies and they is all gone. When they made ten Master sold them for money; you see this place was not rich then and my boys were big and strong for their age. They were dark and big and Master sold them, but you, Baby Jack, you so pretty, like a white baby and they gon love you round here and I gon teach your mama how to git them white folks to keep you here and not sell you. “ She rocks Jack and start singing to him”. Telesmoa is playing in the dirt. He is too small to work, but time will come soon when he will be put in the field to work from dawn to dusk,

Stop thinking and keep working. After finishing the wash, I go into the kitchen to put up

the vegetables and a pretty little girl about 2 or 3 comes in and ask me for a fruit. I call for Big Mama because I don’t know what to give her.

The little girl was name Clarissa and she was almost the same color as Jack. I guess that’s why the mistress loved Jack so much; he reminded her of her own baby. Clarissa would grow up with Jack and they would play together sometimes until it became noticeable that Jack was a slave.

But not to get ahead of the story, Big Mama came quickly up the steps and peeled a banana for the little girl and she went back into the house. Big Mama went back on the back steps and picked up Jack who she had laid on the clothes she was folding. I came behind her and tried to take Jack, but she told me to finish the clothes and she would care for Jack. I couldn’t understand why Jack was so important to everyone who held him; it was a sign that he was meant to do something great. Maybe I would live to see it and maybe not, but God knows to protect him for whatever he is meant to do.

The summer was getting warmer; even though it is summer year round in Louisiana especially in this part of the country. I hope I don’t have to go into the sugar fields; that looks like hard work. I guess I’ll be safe until Jack is a little older. The sun is rising high in the sky, so I must move faster and get these clothes on the line. Big Mama ask me if I can cook. “Girl, can you cook because we gotta find a place for you while you is nursing Baby Jack “. I shake my head no. “ What can you do?” she said laughing. I answered, I can sew a little. Her eyes opened wide and she smiled, “I think you are going to be alright she starts laughing; you hear that Baby Jack, your mama can sew; Lord, Have mercy; she gonna be in the big house and Baby Jack  , you gon be in there with her."

Any skill that a slave has is good. My mom taught me to sew as a child. I would learn to thread the needle  and make straight stitches when I was 3 or 4. I was able to sew seams for my mom when she made dresses . That’s how I became playing with the white girls in New Orleans. My mom would be measuring them for dresses she would make and I would be with her .

My life in New Orleans is all a dream now. I must learn to think and act as an enslaved woman, so I can protect my children. I am small and frail and not of much use to a man, but a skill to sew may save my life.

Lady Caillouett comes to the back door checking on Jack; he is such a good baby, not fussy and trying to laugh; she tells Big Mama to bring her Jack. She looks at him and turn to look at me; I put my head down and pretend I am busy with the clothes.

On the Music Scene in the Big Easy

         

                                                              

New Orleans is a city where you can 'live' music anytime you want and for very little money. I  have been trying to get my groove back, so I have going out more often. After Hurricane Katrina dumped 8 feet on water in my house and two weeks late Hurricane Rita dumped f5 feet, it has been a struggle to get back to my old routine .

My old routine included going to any free ;live' music anywhere in New Orleans-uptown, downtown. back of town, Treme, French Quarters,Trinity Episcopal music series, Lafayette Square, Odgen Museum-but after being displaced in Alabama and Texas, I rebuilt my home in New Orleans, but it took something out of my character. You know how  it is when your Momma die and a void- a hole is left in your life that can't be filled- that is how it is with my life in New Orleans. I am trying to get my 'groove back'. Before Katrina, I was out every Sunday for the Social and Pleasure Clubs Second-line; taking pictures and dancing in the street.

I was raised in Pontchartrain Park and we didn't know anything about second lines, but once my children were grown and gone and I met these musicians who taught at the same school with me Jeffery "Herb" Herbert and Roderick Paulin-it was ON!

I would go to all the night spot, meet musicians, take pictures, write letters to them and began their biggest fan.

Well, Hurricane Katrina slowed me down, I self published two books that depicted my joys of the music and musicians of the city. One book was a photo book titled The Last Walk which showed Jazz Funerals in the city from 1997 to 2004. The second book was, This is My New Orleans and it showed photos and text of Mardi Gras, Mardi Gras Indians, Jazz Fest, Satchmo Fest and Social and Pleasure Clubs Second lines.

Now as the city gets dangerous, my music adventures are limited to day time activities and small crowds, But my memories linger fresh and joyous. Some of my memories are in an ebook on Amazon Kindle The Last Walk a collection  stories and photos of Jazz Funerals in New Orleans from 1997-2007.

Jack Conrad (1834-1897) ( My great, great grandfather}

 

Jack Conrad, Civil War soldier and voice and survivor of the Thibodaux Massacre, was born a slave in 1834 to Mary Conrad, who was 21 at the time of his birth. Jack Conrad, his mother and his three-year-old brother, Telesmao were sold for $1000 by Jean Baptiste Rodriquez of St. John the Baptist Parish, to Jacque Caillouett of the Caillouett Plantation in Thibodaux, Louisiana. Jean Baptiste Rodriquez used the name Conrad for his business ventures, but we still don’t have any solid information that he fathered Jack and his brother.

 

Jack Conrad lived all his life on the Caillouett Plantation. In 1862 when the Union Troops marched through Thibodaux and told the slaves they were free, Jack followed them along with other slaves to New Orleans. Once in New Orleans Jack joined the Union Army. The freemen of color and colored volunteers were called the Corps de Afrique and this title was changed to the US 84^th Colored Infantry He became Pvt. Jack Conrad of the 84^th US Colored Infantry Company E. He enlisted on November 24, 1862 and was discharged on November 29, 1865.

 

While a soldier in the Civil War, Jack fought in the Battle of Port Hudson in Jackson, Louisiana. His officers were. Captain Miller. 1^st Lt. Naive and 2^nd Lt. Harry. His sergeant was Mr. Robinson and he was succeeded by Lewis Edwards. Jack also fought in several other Civil War Battles. He fought in the largest battle in Pointe Coupee Parish. This was the site of the union soldier encampment and the battle was fought near the Sterling Plantation. The Confederate won the battle of Morganza and captured over 400 union soldiers only a few Negro regiments escaped. Jack was part of those who escaped because then he went up to North Louisianan and became part of the Red River Campaign, from there, he wrote he was sent to Monroe, Louisiana where the Miliken’s Bend Battle was fought .Jack was briefly transferred to the 87^th US Colored Infantry, but was transferred back to the 84^th US Colored Infantry before being sent back to New Orleans.

 

John White and George Reese, two soldiers who served in the 84^th with him said he had a cough while in the service and was hospitalized at one time in the service. George Reese said he remembers the cough started when they were at Port Hudson. After the war, Jack Conrad returned to Thibodaux, Louisianan and to the Caillouett Plantation. Once back on the plantation, he married a former slave who he knew on the Plantation. Her name was Mary Weldon. They got married and had three children, Clara, born in 1866, Grant born in 1868 and Manfred born in 1872.

Jack Conrad remained on the Caillouett Plantation until around 1886 when he started working for a Captain Whitehead at the Abbey Plantation. On this plantation, he was not a field hand, but ran an engine for Captain Whitehead.  He was paid a wage instead of the script that was used on the Plantation. During this time, he moved his family from the Caillouett Plantation to a rented house in “Back of town’ Thibodaux. This was a very dangerous time for Black people across the
the nation. Economic problems and the newly developed unions caused disarray everywhere. In Thibodaux, the Knights of Labor- a union of sort-- headed by Junius Bailey was gaining members. Jack was not a member, but his son , Grant, who had been a field hand since he was 12 was said to be a member. On the day of the Thibodaux Massacre, Jack had gotten up early  and walked 4 miles to the Abbey Plantation, but he was feeling ill and asked to leave work early; he walked back home and laid down.

The city of Thibodaux at this time was a hot bed of chaos and confusion. Many Black worker had left their plantations and set up refuge in the city. Atone point the National Guards were called. However, this day, the vigilantes came into the Black section of Thibodaux and started shooting unarmed Black men and women. They moved from house to house calling out the men in the house. When they got to Jack's house, Mary was in the yard, they told her if there were any men in the house to call them out. Jack, his 19 year old son, Grant and his brother-in-law, Marcelin Weldon came out the house when they heard the commotion. Jack was shot first, Grant was shot and killed, Marcelin was shot and killed. Jack crawled under the house ,he was shot four time and pretended to be dead. As the white men moved through out the neighborhood killing more and more Black people, someone pulled Jack from under the house and called a doctor.

Jack survived because he had a story to tell. He was brought back to the Caillouett Plantation and a doctor tended to his wounds. He was shot in the left arm, the right forearm , the chest and the collar bone. He  recovered through the care of Mary his wife. But death took Mary suddenly on March 2, 1889. She was buried on the plantation ground. At that time the son of the original owner talked to Jack and asked him if he knew who shot him. Jack told him he could identify them and name them. One of the shooter was his boss from the Abbey Plantation , Captain Whitehead.


The Caillouett who owned the plantation at the time told Jack he should leave Thibodaux.

Jack had to leave Thibodaux for his own safety. He moved to New Orleans and reunited with some of his army buddies. He later remarried a woman name Mary Davis.

In 1893, a law was passed to give a pension to veterans who could not work due to no fault of their own. Jack applied and was granted a pension due to the wounds in incurred during the Thibodaux Massacre. But this story is told in details in Jack Conrad's pension file from the United States National Archives.

Jack died at age 64 on February 15, 1897 in New Orleans. He died of Tubecolois and he is buried in St. Vincent DePaul Cemetery on Louisa Street in New Orleans. We are very proud of our family hero because he was a Civil War soldier; he fought on the Union side and he is the voice and survivor f the Thibodaux Massacre.

August 29, 2015, the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina

       Tenth Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina

August 29, 2015 was a day of bitter/sweet memories. It was not a day I wanted to celebrate, but I was thrust into a celebration in the subdivision where I have lived for 30 years. 

I am the newly volunteered editor of the Pontchartrain Park Patriot newsletter. I grew up in the subdivision as a child and after my divorce, I wanted to raise my children in that same environment ,so I brought a house here on October 14, 1985. Twenty-five years later Hurricane Katrina poured 14 feet of water on our neighborhood and erased the fond memories of my children memorabilia and my extensive poster and literature collection.

Enough of the pity party, so  we celebrated and we moved on, but our city, our community, our people will never be the same again.

Alfred J, Glapion aka Glap

                                                    Alfred J, Glapion aka Glap



Glap was my friend. I meet him when I was volunteering at E.J. Morris Senior Citizen Center. My mother had recently died and my father was living with me. I had to work, so I had him go to a senior citizen center during the day and I would pick him up when I left school. He was in his eighties and it was better for him to be there than home alone.



Eventually he would get a ride to and from the center, but for the first month, I would bring him and pick him up. Glap would walk him to the car for me. When I got a chance to talk with Glap, he said he remembered me and my sister as little girls on Andry Street where our Aunt lived. I remember going to Aunt Cecil as a child. He said he lived on the next street over, but his friends, Edmond and Arthur, lived  next door our aunt. I remember Edmond and Arthur, so we had a bond.



When my father died four years later, I decided to volunteer at the center, by that time I had retired from my career as a high school English teacher and I was working as a tutor. I was the instructor of the sewing class /humanities class. We sewed, but we talked about history as well. Glap was in this class and he became nicknamed, "Teacher's Pet" because he was my right hand man, my assistant. He would set up the classroom when I was running late, he would remind the students of the class times and assignments and he would start class if I was late. I appreciated all his help and it made the classroom so much fun. He and Al "Carnival Time" Johnson were the two men in the class; sometime we might have two more men wander in, but Al and Glap were always there.



We lost touch for a while after Hurricane Katrina destroyed our city, but we managed to get together and write a  short story on he and his wife's life in the Ninth Ward. But Glap became sick about two years ago and I promised to go see him. I talked with him on the phone in April, 2013 before I visited my daughter in Paris.  But when the call came that he had died, I felt like I didn't get  a chance to say goodbye to a dear friend.

Mrs. Wiletta Thibodeaux, Owner and Operator of Thibodeaux's Nursery and Pre-School , A Landmark in Pontchartrain Park

                      

Wiletta Thibodeaux was born Wiletta Jackson in Thibodaux, Louisiana on September 4, 1918. Her parents were Mary Peltier Jackson and Courtland Jackson. She had eight siblings, Evelyn, Courtland, Jr. Eunice, Myrtle, Kathleen, Bernard, Sylvester and Louis. She lived in Donaldsonville with her mother’s sister, Aunt Gertrude and her husband Uncle Nolan, who was Pullman Porter from age 10 to 14. After graduating from 8th grade at St. Catherine in Donaldsonville, she returned to Thibodaux for high school and to help her Mom with the younger siblings.

She left Thibodaux in 1948 to start a better life with more economic opportunities. She worked at Woolworth’s on Canal Street and later at the Carver House in Lincoln Beach before moving into Pontchartrain Park. Her husband, John Thibodeaux, was born and raised in Thibodaux, LA and was a close friend to Wiletta’s brother, Courtland; they were altar boys together at St. Luke’s Catholic Church. When he came to New Orleans , he worked as a chef at many restaurants in the city among them was Commander’s Palace. He later became the manager for the Carver House at Lincoln Beach.

Wiletta and John Thibodeaux brought the house at 5001 Columbia Street in 1957. It was the model home for Pontchartrain Park located on the corner of Congress and Columbia.  Wiletta and John moved in with their three children, Marielise, Wiletta and Tracey. The house was originally occupied by Edward Bocage, also known as, Eddie Bo, a local entertainer. He had a hit song, “Check your buckets”, in 1956 and he was going on a tour. John and Wiletta knew him because he performed regularly  at the Carver House. He sold the house to them.

 

 At this time, with a new mortgage,  Wiletta started thinking about opening a nursery in her house. However, Pontchartrain Park was strictly residential. She had a good business sense because she felt with a new subdivision, many young families would need day care and with Southern University opening in the neighborhood, the staff would need daycare as well.   Keeping a few children grew so popular that she had to get a petition signed by the residents of Pontchartrain Park to start a licensed day care. She had to return to school at Delgado and take courses and workshops in early childhood education and in nutrition.  In 1963 she officially opened as a state certified day care. Her business flourished and Thibodeaux’s Nursery began a cornerstone in the community. However, this license day care center came with many restrictions. There were to be no signs or displays that indicated this was a business; no visible advertisement. The facade of the business must remain strictly residential. Off street parking was an issue also even though it was on a corner, another drive was necessary for the other side of the house. The Thibodeaux’s affectionately known as Teacher and Honey devoted all their time and energy to the success of the nursery.  Mother Dear, as her children affectionally called her, became the administrator and Honey because the cook. Several employees were hired and Mrs. Thibodeaux’s daughter, Marielise Payton, remained an employee the entire time the nursery was operating. There were also many part-time employees from the neighborhood. Several ‘stay-home ‘moms because part-time workers at the nursery; especially during the holidays the ladies would make their holiday money by working at the nursery. Some of the veteran workers at the nursery were Mrs. Delores Blue, Mrs. Valerie Ross, Mrs. Verna Brock, Mrs. Marie Roberts, Mrs. Dabon, Mrs. Sharon Lewis, and Ms. Wanda Washington.

The most memorable events at the nursery were the annual Christmas Parties for students and parents, the culminating play at St. Mary’s Academy every May and the buttered biscuits and buttered grits for morning breakfast

The nursery business provided a necessary service for the community and the business thrived. In 1970 the business had grown so much, the Thibodeaux’s turned the entire house into a nursery and brought another house on Mithra Street.

My mother worked hard to give her children the kind of lifestyle she felt they deserved. Marielise and Wiletta attended St. Mary’s Academy and Tracey attended St. Augustine High School.  Marielise attended Dillard University and became a housewife. Wiletta graduated from Xavier University in education and went to graduate school at Howard University. She is a retired high school English teacher. Tracey graduated from Dillard University and went on to become an administrator in the RSD school system. He married Ellen Schexnayder who also grew-up in Pontchartrain Park.

 The Thibodeaux’s social status had grown as well over the years. Some of the most influential people in the Pontchartrain Park community had their children attend the nursery and thus their appreciation showed in their embracing the Thibodeaux’s into their social circles.  Dr. Proctor introduced them as members of the Young Men of Illinois Club. The Thibodeaux’s also operated Shelter #4 on the lakefront for many years and a restaurant in the Park called Teacher’s Pet.

Some of the students who attended Thibodeaux’s Nursery and Pre-School were:

Jamal and Jacova Williams, Karen and Patricia Thomas, Donald and Denise Williams,  Linda and Louis Douglas, Kevin McClain, Vernon Haynes, Nicole Armour and later her daughter, Samantha Fleury, Kyle Fleury, Gina Brown, Dana and Kathy Le Beouf,  Ayanna Jahan, Jamell and Romell Patterson, Miranda and Garret Lewis, Margaret Ventress, Shandrika, Dawn and Kim Reed,  Jaida Blackwell,  Holly Francis,  Sybil and Derrick Humphrey, Gregory and Robert Hobbs, Jeffery Rubin, Ricky and Kevin Lewis , Gilbert and Donald Lainnez, Dana and Danielle Atkins ( and their mother, Michelle Atkins)… Kenneth Jones, Gerald Page, Gay and Guy Stephens, Derrick Dean, Ronnie Smith, Deanna Proctor… Carmelita and Tina Darensburg,   Ranata and Floyd Raphael, Mignon and Danny, The Gill’s,  Janey and Ambrose,  Desiree and her sister,  Christy and Tricia,  Addison and Michael Carey, Ronald and Laure Davenport, Malik and Malcolm Austin, Somesha, Khalil, Ponya and Kenya Ferdinand, Raymond and Barry Payton, John and Jamal  Williams, Ayanna and Tracey Thibodeaux, Anthony Thibodeaux, Jonas Laurent, Angela Brickham, John and Jamal Williams, Roger Dickerson, Veatrice and Ventrell Payton, and so many more.

Thibodeaux’s Nursery and Pre-School closed in 1993 and the Thibodeaux’s moved down the street at 5815 Congress Drive and lived the remainder of their years with their daughter, Wiletta Ferdinand. Mrs. Thibodeaux died in 1999 and Mr. Thibodeaux died in 2004