In November of 1977 memories of Covington from years long past were shared by longtime resident Ethyl Heatherly.
MEMORIES OF OLD COVINGTON NOTED
Years ago, when Ethyl Heatherly was a young lady, she rode on the paddlewheel steamer "The Old Camelia." It would cross Lake Pontchartrain going from New Orleans to Covington and back, carrying passengers from the hectic life in the big city to the little country village which was Covington.
She remembers the small, well-kept yards bordered by white picket fences in Covington, the iron gates and bells to announce the arrival of visitors, and the screened verandas with porch swings and chairs for the guests.
The area was a health resort for most of the visitors, she recalls, adding that there was even a sanitarium for the severely ill people, a facility hidden among the honeysuckle and magnolias.
Four young doctors ran the sanitarium, a psychiatrist, a surgeon, a physician and a dermatologist. One would see busy nurses dressed in starched white coats, crippled individuals being wheeled along the streets in their wheelchairs, and one would hear a wide variety of remedies for a wide variety of ailments. Every other person one met had something crippling, Miss Heatherly recalls, and if one would listen, that flaxseed poultices worked wonders for sore eyes, and that castor oil promoted sleek brows and supple fingers.
"And I thought, here is the place to offend old age," she said.
"On Covington's streets I saw small grocery shops, places where one could buy corn meal, fresh from the grist mill, cane syrup by the gallon, and often, in season, rabbits for ten cents each," she went on to say. "The butcher would usually skin them for you, in fact."
"Green groceries, vine ripened tomatoes, green beans (already snapped and ready for cooking), all of these delivered to your door if you paid a little extra," she explained.
Every Thursday the oyster boat docked at Old Landing on the Bogue Falaya River, and one could buy oysters by the quart, taking a jar and watching as the oysters were opened fresh from the shell. One could also buy shrimp and soft shell crabs when they were in season.
In the woods around Covington, there would be terrapin for the picking and quail just for the shooting. Blue water hyacinths added their own touch of beauty to the environment, and water lilies became dove cots (nests) for the pigeons.
Stallings made nests in the street lights. Water fountains were located on the streets for fresh drinking water, cold without icing. Drug store counters offered Coke and ice cream (called Black Cows) where customers could stop for a moment and relax. If on good terms with the druggist, the customer could perhaps get a cold beer with cheese.
Wild flowers grew in the gutters in the heart of town, watered by the overflow from the turpentine plant. A small trolley rolled through the countryside, taking people down to the dock where the four-wheeler steamer left to travel to the city and its Bayou St. John dock.
"Heavenly days I am dreaming," Miss Heatherly comments, remembering when Covington was the paradise of the South.
St. Tammany Farmer November 24, 1977
Her recollections of old Covington were also told during visits with Joanne Champagne.
The following week another article appeared in the Dec. 1, 1977, issue of the St. Tammany Farmer newspaper and it also shared some of her recollections.
The following is the text of the above article:
Memories of Covington Told By Miss Heatherly
Ethyl Heatherly lives at the Forest Manor Nursing Home in Covington now, and one of her favorite visitors is Joanne Champagne, a member of the newly-formed Covington Junior Service League. Together they talk about how Covington used to be, how it looked and how it was to live here.
Miss Heatherly was born in Hang Town, Texas, a stage 'stop between Fort Worth and Dallas, and her mother died soon after she was born. She was raised by a family in Forrest County, Miss., finished high school and attended a stenography. school at a college in Hattiesburg.
She began her working career as a stenographer for the mayor of a Mississippi town, and she eventually moved to New Orleans. She moved to Covington in 1933, during the height of the Depression, where she began working in the Clerk of Court's office. She worked there for 20 years, retiring in 1968. Before going to the nursing home, she lived on the Hammond highway about two miles outside Covington.
Street Scenes
Her recollections of Covington range from its street scenes to its people's personality. She recalls the smell of the fresh peaches from Mississippi being sold by street vendors; the pineapple pears, juicy ones for canning or eating; the crab apples for preserving, mayhaws in the ponds for the gathering.
In the proper season, fox grapes could be seen hanging from the trees, there for the taking, along with the hickory nuts, if one was not afraid of snakes, that is.
She remembers the Covington of years gone by, where the pecans which were too small to be used for candy and big round would burst in the fall, breaking when they hit the ground. If someone would eat them green, it would make them sick.
"Marigolds and blackeyed susans, wild honeysuckle in the woods, and golden rod for making fake rubber, according to Waldo Emerson," she comments. "And birds' , Mocking birds, cardinals, and endless number of wild violets, white in the marshes and blue. Roses, Luis Phillipe, the true rose-at evening giving off a natural fragrance in the woods all the year."
The pines, with their ozone air, throng the wilds; the ozone air, famous for curing the ills of mankind. The oaks spreading their limbs to catch the moss so needed by the poor folks and the sick for fresh, inexpensive beds.
"What would we want with gas for heating when there was still pine nuts for burning in fireplaces?" she asked. For cooking there was split oak for burning in Franklin stoves.
Recreational Pursuits
For amusement, there was sand lot baseball for the youngsters and for the elders, there were hunting in season, fishing in the bayous, teal and ducks in the lake, swimming and boating for those young in heart.
For eating, early Covington residents had a most varied menu: fresh chicken raised at home; a young lamb for Iamb chops, bread fresh from the oven, honey fresh from the honeycomb. As a special treat on the Fourth of July or Sunday, one could get ice cream or frozen cream cheese.
"It is evening now and high in the branches of the trees, the small vesper sparrows are singing their good night carol to the setting sun and before the stars. The long shadows filled with the odor of Cape Jasmine and the yellow Jasmine wine drift over the porches.
"And now the fields will be plowed for planting, with seeds for every kind of vegetable and some never heard of before going into the ground. This meant food for man and beast, creating a bountiful land unspoiled by waste or ignorance.
"Beautiful and productive St. Tammany was well-known, what with its flowing wells and harvest fit for a king. It abounded with products of God for the good of man Harvests were conserved and kept stored through the cold winter months until blossom time again." A million dollars could not replace this fertile spot, muses Miss Heatherly, thinking about St. Tammany of the past.
Family Circles
She recalls Covington as a town resembling a "tight little knot of a few families intermingling and spreading out into rings, as if a stone had been tossed into a pond." The younger men of the community moved out into the world, bringing back with them new blood into the family. One young man of Pennsylvania descent fell in love with a young woman from Alexandria, and the family was pleased, saying the family was becoming inbred.
"Family life here at that time must have been very beautiful," she recalls, "very loving, kind and wonderful to remember. When money moves in, the better things fade away ...." she concludes.
End of the 1977 article
