This page is to honor our friends who have past away.

We remember each of you in our own special way - we were all young, vibrant and invincible - or so we thought.  We are sad that you are not with us to reminisce and catch up on the past 30 years - you enriched our lives - we think of you often.  God bless you and keep you 'til we meet again.



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Wade Allred


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Ronald Babcock


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Kelly Barnard


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Dale Barras


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James Butler


James was born in Baton Rouge Sept. 17, 1960. He was the second son of Ralph William and Jimmie Carol Lefeaux Butler. He was a precocious child who was always looking for adventure. He was a charming man who loved fun and had many friends. He married Cynthia Gray and started a family, Andy, Aaron and Katie. After he and Cindy divorced, he started his own business, Filter Tech Inc., at the young age of 25. He married Nan Drew Butler and fathered two sons, Caleb and Zachary. He loved the outdoors, hunting, fishing and spending time with Johnny and Chris Darensberg at their camp. He loved to cook and was a very fine chef. His first love was building and designing. He loved his house and beautiful garden that he designed himself. He lost his son, Caleb Drew Butler, on Dec. 29, 2002, in an accident at the hunting club they both loved. James took a downward spiral after Caleb's death and never recovered. He died Tuesday, Jan. 6, of this year. Visiting at St. Patrick Catholic Church on Thursday, Jan. 8, from 9:30 a.m. until Mass of Christian Burial at 10:30 a.m., with the Rev. Jerry Martin, celebrant. His many friends and his family will miss him dearly. He is survived by his children, James Andrew and wife Claire Pickett Butler, Aaron Gray Butler, Zachary Ross Butler and Katie Louise Butler; granddaughters, Olivia Lynn and Addison Mae Butler; mother, Jimmie Carol LeFeaux Butler; two brothers and their wives, Ralph William Jr. and Susan Coan Butler, and Russell John and Roxanne Lemoine Butler; sister, Helen Barry Butler Searles and husband David Searles; nieces and nephews, Kelly, Corey and Sarah Butler, John and Emily Butler and Paige and Morgan Searles; paternal aunts and uncles, Mona and Rene Delaune and Curt and Rita Lefeaux; special friend, Ms. Johnnie Capone; and six cousins. He was also preceded in death by his father, Ralph William Butler; paternal grandmother, Helen Butler Liuzza; paternal grandfather, Colie C. Butler; maternal grandfather and grandmother, James Earl and Elnora (Dodie) LeFeaux; and cousin, Curtis LeFeaux.

This is a copy of the obituary that was published in The Advocate on 1/7/09 & 1/8/09.

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Peter Fledderman


Pete loved the Beatles, and he followed intently every rumor that they would reunite.  I remember that he had newspaper clippings referring to a possible reunion posted on his bedroom’s wall.  Besides the Beatles, Pete loved hard Rock.  I was not particularly interested in Rock myself (since I was in my Jazz phase back then), but I went to a Ted Nugent concert with Pete and some other guys in the summer of ’79.  My ears rang for several days afterwards.  Pete also loved military history and would play board games that allowed people to re-fight important battles—especially those of World War II.  I particularly remember re-fighting the Battle of the Bulge with him several times.
 
One of the funniest things I remember about Pete is that his father had a homemade keg-o-rator and kept track of the number of beers he drew out of it.  Pete’s dad kept track of his beer consumption with a tally-sheet taped to the ancient refrigerator’s door.  Now and then, Pete, Robert B., Wade K., and I would steal drafts from Pete’s dad’s kegs!  We had to make sure that we never took too much.  I recall that Pete’s Dad would sometimes complain about the beer missing from his supply!
 
Pete’s Mom was a parent who made a point of connecting with Pete’s friends, and she was able to do that through popular music.  She obviously had her own love of music, for Pete’s brother and sister are named Paul and Mary (so they were Peter, Paul, and Mary!).  Mrs. Fledderman also loved the band Fog Hat, and Pete got her tickets to a Fog Hat concert in Baton Rouge once.  One Christmas—I think the Christmas of 1978—Mrs. Fledderman got Looney Tunes soap gifts for Pete and his group of friends.  Mine was Wile E. Coyote!

Submitted by Larry Bonds

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Mindy Mallet


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Barren Matherne


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Marcy Noonan


I sat next to Marcy in Jazz Band class (I believe in 10th and 11th grade), as we were both in the band’s “rhythm section” (keyboard, drums, bass, guitar.)   While I can’t claim she and I were ever really close friends, we did “work” closely together in class.  She always seemed happy, smiled frequently, always said “hey” as she dropped her stack of books, but once behind that keyboard she was serious and focused.

 

My most vivid memory of Marcy happened soon after we met and started playing together.  We (the entire jazz band) were working on a new tune – probably another sight-reading “test” we were hit with on almost a daily basis under the watchful ear of Lee Fortier.  (Anyone in that class will tell you their respect for Lee was very high, but a daily goal for each student was to make the ending bell without receiving a classic Fortier tongue-lashing!)  Anyway, while concentrating on minimizing my mistakes, I started hearing these unbelievable sounds and chord changes coming from the keyboard.  I glanced Marcy’s way, and what I saw was both amazing and actually a bit funny. 

 

If you’ve ever seen a small child walk-up to a piano for the first time, their little hands just sort of beat and bang away at the keys.  And those who have witnessed that know it sounds pretty much like… a small child beating and banging on the keys – a train-wreck if you will.  Well, in Marcy’s case, what I saw and what I heard certainly did not match.  Like the description above, her hands were loosely banging and beating on the keys - up and down, back and forth, all over the place… but out of the keyboard speaker came precision voicing, rhythm, and chord changes!  Realizing her fingers where hitting the right keys with her hands flying around like that was stunning to me.  I don’t think she ever knew it, but I remember frequently adjusting my seat and music stand so I’d be able to watch her play. 

 

While I don’t know any details of her life after high-school, it’s my understanding she played professionally and gave lessons in and around the New Orleans area.  Back in class at Broadmoor, I remember she always seemed to have a slight smile on her face while playing.  I think it was a mix of contentment, satisfaction, pride, but mostly the joy she had for playing music.  Her talent was truly amazing.  

 

Marcy, I wish I had taken the initiative to get to know you better back then.  I hope and pray wherever you are, there’s a keyboard close-by.

 

Submitted By Mark Harrell

 

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Marcy Noonan was an extraordinarily talented musician, and I especially remember how beautifully she played piano and keyboard for stage band in junior high and high school.  In junior high, the guys in stage band loved to tease Marcy, where someone (I believe it was Van Jacobs) nicknamed her “Bubbles,” and whenever we played “Mercy, Mercy, Marcy,” we all made the inevitable pun on her first name.

In the spring of our sophomore year, I distinctly remember Mr. Fortier and Mr. Bergeron teaching Marcy some of the basics of playing jazz keyboard with that old Fender-Roads that the stage band had.  Those of us interested in stage band, met in the dank little green room below the stage in the auditorium because there was no other room for us to rehearse in at that hour.  Mr. Fortier told Marcy that she needed, especially when improvising solos, to play chords from the piece with her left hand and to improvise or “stab out” (Fortier’s words) melodies on those chords with her right. Marcy, as I recall, quickly learned to play some really fine and creative solos.

Right before graduation, I remember speaking with Marcy about her plans.  She told me that she was going to teach music and piano and spend as much time as possible playing the blues.  I remember envying her plan, for I wished that I had her talent and dared to live my life that way.  From what I understand, that is exactly how Marcy lived the rest of her life.

Submitted by Larry Bonds
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In Memory of My friend Marcy:
It's taken me a bit longer to put into words how I'll remember Marcy as it had been not only a shock to read and hear about Marcy's death, but a feeling of deep sadness and remorse for having lost touch over the past 25 years with Marcy, my high school friend.

I remember I met Marcy in our Sophmore year after my best friend Kathy McAuley introduced us. Kathy told me that I'd really like Marcy as we had a love for the same type of music and Marcy would "get me".  We did share a fondness for some great music and musicians, and she did in fact "get me".  She'd laugh at my jokes and tell me that she wasn't sure why she liked me, but that she just did.  She'd warn me that I was going to be sorry for skipping typing class as often as I did, and unfortunately, she was right, as I spent a good part of my later years typing away as an Executive Secretary. I still listen to her Al Stewart's "Year of the Cat" Album that she loaned me (you guessed it - I never gave it back). I never play the album without remembering Marcy's contagious laughter and her "Jeez Robin" replies to some of the juvenile things we did back then for fun. 

Marcy played the piano for me at my wedding.  She claimed she was actually nervous, but as I remember, it was all for not.  She played as she always played, beautifully. 

I wish I would have taken the the time to tell Marcy how I valued our friendship through the sometimes challenging, exciting, and cherrished years at Broadmoor.  I implore all who read this to not let time pass before picking up the phone or sending an e-mail to your friends and/or family and sharing with them how you value and love them.  I wish I had done this for myself with Marcy.  I will never have that opportunity nor will I anticipate sharing laughs and memories at the reunion with Marcy.  I will however, cherrish her and see her as she was in high school; young and in anticipation of unleashing her yet discovered talent. 

Submitted by Robin Matte Grainger


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Kent Parsons


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Wendall Salassi


Richard Schledt


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Jane Sibley


Jane Sibley, was so dear to my heart.  I remember when we were in the 9th grade we sent a picture in to the long and silky contest.  My sister took a picture of Jane and I by my parents pool.  She had that gorgeous long black hair and I had the long blonde hair.  haha we never did hear from the contest.

Submitted by Anne Lovell Epperson

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Probably everyone thought of Jane as so sweet and kind like I did at Broadmoor. We skipped for lunch a time or two, but we were only casual friends back then. Remember her baby blue firebird? Or was it a camero – I can’t recall which - it was hard to miss! But I do miss Jane. I got to know her after her illness. It began in the fall after her senior year.  Little did we all know, Jane was very depressed; she went to visit her grandparents in Shreveport that Summer. Since she couldn’t cope with her depression alone, she was smart to check herself into a hospital. It was there that her life changed dramatically; she was accidentally given an overdose, woke up three months later from a coma and realized she had lost complete function of her body. Jane lived this way until her death at the age of 43.

When I rekindled a relationship with her, Jane had round-the-clock caregivers and lived in a condominium off Jefferson Highway. I visited her several times…would apply her makeup, wash her hair - we even went to see a movie!  But most of the time we would just visit and talk about all of you! She always wanted to hear about your lives…even those of you she didn’t know. But what you don’t know is, Jane’s way of talking was to tediously point out every letter on a board – it was such an effort for her especially when she had to repeat herself several times because I couldn’t get it.

Jane became very close with the Lord. She would often say, “I can’t wait to live with Jesus.” I know it was incredibly difficult for her to hear about our lives, but it never stopped her from asking. Remember she came to our 10 year reunion?! I’m so glad she did, but she wouldn’t come to the 20th. She had made a pact with herself that she would only attend if she was able to walk by then.

Despite her situation, Jane had a courageous spirit – her inner beauty far outshined her man’s lady exterior – even during her high school days. I wish I would have visited Jane more. I will never forget her.

Submitted by Rosemary Crifasi Bajon, 10/6/09

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Mark Stewart


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David Stiglets


David died in 1991.  He was shot and killed in what the police call a “drug deal gone bad.”  His mother still grieves for him as if it just happened.  He also has 2 sisters, Jana and Robin. 

 

I grew up with Davey (as we called him).  Our families have been friends since we were 3 years old.  His birthday was 3 days before mine and we celebrated them together for many years.  One year we had Ballerinas on one side and Cowboy and Indians on the other side of the cake….we were 6.  Growing up he was like another brother for me and my 3 brothers.  Many people thought my mother had 5 kids.  He played football in our front yard with my brothers and we played baseball on the empty lot down the street during the summers. 

 

When I transferred to Broadmoor he was the one person that I turned to for acceptance.  Davey, Trent Stewart and I would skip out during lunch and go to Taco Bell.  We couldn’t go to McDonalds…too many teachers there to bust you for skipping. 

 

As the years moved on we lost touch.    Davey’s mother and my mother are still friends to this day.  So, we always knew what was going on in his life.  His death was devastating to my family.  It was like loosing a real brother. 

 

Submitted by Veronica Villavaso-Smith