Only One Way Out Alive

By Claude C. Frey Jr.

A story about life in Northeast Louisiana beginning as a child and ending as an old man Lots of stories and unique individuals with strong spiritual advice in the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Jul 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781478789925

Claude C. Frey Jr.

Journey with Pap beginning as a small boy in rural NE Louisiana. One day he was surprised by the sudden realization that he was an old man. After a life filled with love, adventure, humor, sadness, regrets and relationships with many unique individuals, he comes to the conclusion that there is only one way out of this world alive.

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Only One Way Out Alive

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2023 Claude C. Frey Jr.

v3.0

The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Cover Illustration by Muhamad Rachman. Copyright © 2023 Claude C. Frey Jr.

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Early Years

Chapter 2: Move To Wisner

Chapter 3: The Fifties

Chapter 4: The Reckless Sixties

Chapter 5: The Seventies

Chapter 6: Doloroso

Chapter 7: The Eighties

Chapter 8: The Nineties

Chapter 9: Too Dumb To Give Up

Chapter 10: The Ozarks

Chapter 11: Coming Home

Chapter 12: Period of Loss

Epilogue

CHAPTER 1

The Early Years

IN THE FALL 0f 1949, I started first grade at Wisner elementary school. The school didn’t have a cafeteria, so we carried our lunch from home in a brown paper bag. My first-grade teacher was a sweet lady named Mrs. Furr. She had taught young children for so many years that she talked and acted like one. Teaching was her life, and she did it well. We had over 40 kids in that one class. During that year, I met many of my lifelong friends. Baby Floyd Roberts would be my best lifelong hunting partner. His uncle Fulton was in first grade as well. Billy Whittington and Cricket Hutto would be some of my closest friends. Aubrey Hamilton and Reta Chapman were, and still are, two of my very close friends. It was that 1st year that brought us together

The school principal was an odd dude indeed. His name was Walter Pieron. He was the spitting image of what you would imagine the devil to look like. He had a long nose with a mustache and chin whiskers, His ears were long and pointed and his humped nose almost met his chin. All he lacked was a long tail. On his desk sat jars of snakes preserved in formaldehyde. He considered himself somewhat of a magician. He would reach up behind a child’s ear and pluck out a nickel or sometimes a dime. Another magical trick, of which I wasn’t too fond, was to sling a two-foot paddle out the sleeve of his suit coat. Principals and teachers wore suits in those days. Of course, when we boys saw this trick, we soon learned what was about to follow. Whenever an unfortunate soul got sent out into the hall to await Pieron’s arrival, he was as wild as an inmate in a mental institution, by the time Pieron came along. Now he didn’t carry the poor wretch down to his office to administer his justice. He did it in the hall, where every class, teacher, and child could listen to the sound of that paddle making contact and the screeching, hollering, and wailing of his victim. If the students in the rooms up and down the hall didn’t learn anything else, they learned to try to avoid ending up in such a predicament. Well, after 2 or 3 years of it, several of us ole boys had become immune to Pieron’s paddle, although not 100%

Claude Frey 1949

I remember one particular instance where my friends Fulton Roberts, Billy Whittington, and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got sent to the office by one of the lady teachers. So, we sat waiting for Pieron’s arrival. I noticed Billy getting a little nervous, but not the case for Fulton. Finally, after a while I heard

Pieron’s footsteps coming down the hall, followed by his shadow, and then him. Now, there was something about ole Fulton’s mental makeup, which made him more than willing to try to live through a whipping, if he could laugh at someone else getting one. When Pieron rounded the corner and before he could say anything, Fulton jumped up and shook his finger at Pieron and blurted out, Now I’ll tell you right now Mr. Pieron, Billy said you ain’t near bout fixin to whip him. I think at first Pieron couldn’t believe what he had heard, but then his face began to turn a dark red, ears and all. Well, at the same time Pieron’s face was turning red, poor Billy’s was turning white, and I imagine mine was a little pale. Pieron never said a word, he did just like I figured he would, and slung that paddle out of his coat sleeve and made for ole Billy. Billy stayed hitched for a while. but eventually the seat of his britches began to get hot. and the hollering, grunting, shrieking, and all kinds of struggle took place, some of it Billy’s, some Pieron’s. Finally, he turned Billy loose and looked at us. I think Pieron realized that Billy had never said anything that had a remote chance of bringing on what he had just received. Pieron then reached and grabbed Fulton, and made the paddle play its familiar tune on him. Whip as he may, he never whipped the twinkle out of ole Fulton’s eye. That’s just the way Fulton was, he always saw the humorous side of every situation. I don’t believe Billy thought there was such a side to this situation. When he finally got through with Fulton, he reached for me. Thank goodness, he was pretty winded, and he seemed to run out of gas, although it still lasted plenty long enough to suit me. As things started to cool off, and we headed out of Pieron’s office, I thought we had it made. Not so. As we started out the door, Billy was in the rear. Pieron asked him as he passed by, How did that feel Whittington? Billy replied, with his chin quivering a little, It felt mighty hot. Hot! Pieron shrieked, You ain’t felt nothing hot yet, and he yanked Billy back inside and gave him another dose. When we finally got out of that hellhole and into the yard, Billy, with his chin still quivering, looked at Fulton and said, I always thought you were crazy as hell, now I know you are. To understand how I got to this point, let’s first go back to Richland parish, in the late1800’s.

My grandfather, Rufus Long Jones was born in the small village of Alto. Alto was once an important steamboat landing, located on Boeuf River, where settlers and their supplies were unloaded. Much of early NE Louisiana was settled by boat. By the time my Paw Rufus was 6 years old, he was working in the fields and hunting in the woods. He never went to school a day in his life. He learned how to draw his name and that was about it; even so, he was one of the smartest men I ever knew. I spent hours listening to him over the years and I wish I had spent many more. In his early years, he and his dad were market hunters. They killed mostly ducks, squirrels and turkey. There were not many deer in that area at that time. They sold their game in Monroe, Louisiana, the largest city in the area.

He told me about the terrible winter of 1898, when it sleeted a foot deep and the temperature stayed below 0 at night for several days. The fields stayed frozen over for several weeks. During this time, most of the livestock in the area died. He and his brothers, Ola and Harvey, roamed the countryside each day skinning dead animals. They got $5 for each horse, cow, or mule hide, which was big money in those days. Paw said if the weather had held, he was on his way to being rich. There were other hardships that went with that terrible blizzard. All of the firewood soon ran out, without a way to get more. Paw said the people burned all of the chinaberry trees, a common tree that grew around most of the houses back then. They made terrible firewood, but it was all they had.

My Grandmother Emily had attended college at what is now known as Louisiana Tech University, before she and Paw married. They had eleven children. My mom was the seventh. Three died during infancy, and another was killed at age three in a terrible wagon accident. Of the seven surviving children, two became doctors and four became teachers, due mainly to my grandmother’s insistence and constant urging. My mother was born in 1915, the oldest of the girls, and almost a second mother to her younger siblings. By the time she was 19, she was teaching in a one room schoolhouse near the family home in the Snake Ridge community of Richland Parish. My grandparents, as well as the ancestors of some celebrities including Jerry Lee Lewis, Mickey Gilly, and Jimmy Swaggart, are buried in the small cemetery there. My mama lived and taught school there until she met my dad.

Paw and Emily

My dad, Claude Frey Sr.,was born on April Fool’s Day in 1908. He was far from a fool and was the best father a boy could hope for. His grandfather had immigrated from Germany in the early 1800’s. He worked as a machinist on the Illinois Central railroad. He was killed in a street fight in Rayville, Louisiana. Frey’s liked to fight back then, and some still do, even if it’s among themselves. IT’s not a good idea to put too many of them in close quarters. Dad’s Father and mother raised their family near Mangham, Louisiana. Dad and my mama were married on December 7,1940. They were living in Mangham when I was born on February 7, 1944. The war was raging in Europe and in the Pacific. My dad tried repeatedly to join the service when the war broke out but was turned down due to a childhood leg injury.

Uncle Doc

About this time my mother’s brother, Henry E. Jones, became a doctor. This fooled a lot of people in the Snake Ridge Community. Many thought that Paw Roof had just as well put him to plowing a mule, instead of sending him to college. But he fooled them, and when he finished school, he came to Winnsboro, La. He set up his practice at