Throwback, because I'm bored as hell. Its a good story:
Four years ago, I got in my truck to go on a Home depot run, when, as I pulled out from my house, I saw a freakin alligator casually walking down the levee. At first I was just like "damn, that's some lower 9th ward shit right there" and kept driving, but then it kinda sunk in... this is where old ladies walk their tiny annoying dogs, and little kids play football. Also, this gator is walking away from Florida ave, where it could have come out of the Industrial canal, and deeper into the neighborhood. It wouldn't be able to climb back into the canal until after the St. Claude Bridge in the Holy Cross. So I parked the truck and called the one guy I know that has probably been in this situation before: Richard. Richard is a local, who works in the pumping station on Florida ave. For years, before he started making enemies at the sewerage and water board by demanding basic workplace protections, he used to walk the two blocks over to Jamestown (aka Lower 9th Wardermelon, aka my place) to hang out. He was a big guy, very fit, probably mid 40s, and he spent his whole life back in the swamps fishing, hunting and as a kid just messing around and getting out of the hood. He used to bring over fish he caught and we would cook them on the fire. Couchsurfers were always blown away by their "authentic Louisiana experience" whenever he came over. Anyway, while i was waiting for Richard to walk over I push started the motorcycle/sidecar which was left at my house. I figured it was the appropriate vehicle for this situation. I tied a piece of frozen dumpsters chicken to a string and drove onto the levee and tried to entice the gator to turn around. Not happening. This gator was not interested in food right now. Richard walked over, and he was excited, but he's not the one to show it. He's just calmly joking about the situation. Then we see two hip guys in their 20s walking towards us. There was a big film crew filming some tv show or something down the street and these guys were just taking a smoke break or something. We were waving as they walked closer, us standing right next to the gator and pointing, but they didn't notice. Eventually I said, "Yo, watch out for the gator" and their reaction was great. Search YouTube for "black guys react to magic", that's pretty close.
So the film crew guys head back after a couple minutes of good laughter and jokes, and richard and I, and some other folks, especially Tom Wilson, from my place are coming up with a plan. Then this super stressed out production assistant rolls over in her Prius and starts bossing everyone around, let's just call her Karen. She was a total bitch, no other way to say it. Telling all of us, that we don't know what we're doing and she is the only one who can handle this properly. And she has to because its near the film set. Richard and I keep looking at eachother and smiling, thinking, you may be these people's boss, but to us you're just some crazy white lady who has no idea what to do. At this point some other local old timer on his way to fish in the Industrial canal pulls over his truck and is loving it. He's totally down to help, and we had a couple ideas, but Karen told everyone to just backup. She was calling in the professional. So then, in comes Tuna. Redneck crocodile Dundee type dude who was a professional animal handler for the film set. Meaning he was in charge of the well trained actor dogs. He wanted nothing to do with any of this. He assured us he doesn't have the right tools, which we took to mean he doesn't know what to do. So then Karen instructs me to get a brand new tarp out of her car, which i did despite having plenty of old shitty tarps I offered. Tuna covered the gator with the Tarp and then tried to pin it down. All of us, except Karen thought this was super dumb. Like, what's the next step? Tuna did NOT want to do it. The gator was not into the whole tarp thing. So Tuna cautiously approached and then went in to hold its head down.
Tuna got bit.
Bit by a fucking 100lb alligator. It was a warning bite, like a quick snap then backed off with mouth wide open to say "get off of me you idiot". Tuna looked at the big punctures in his arm and said "fuck this shit, I'm out" and walked back towards the film set where i hope he got a ride to the hospital, but who knows. Karen was not sympathetic. We looked at Karen and said something like, "ma'am, do you still want to be in charge of this situation". She huffed and puffed and said she needed to get back to work, and we're all probably going to get ourselves killed. "Ok, ok" Richard said, in classic Richard calmness. I'm just thinking, "free tarp!"
So then we got to work, me Richard, Tom, and this old timer. We got a 2x4, and some rope. We tied a loop in the rope and Richard, the badass that he is, used the 2x4 to push the gators mouth shut. We slipped the loop over the gators head and pulled tight. It worked better then we could have imagined. The gator went into a roll, which is what they do when they want to fuck shit up, but because of the rope it just rolled itself into a big knot. So then we took a 55gal plastic barrel and just pushed the open end over the gators head and turned it upright. So now we had a gator wrapped in rope, head down in a barrel with its tail sticking out. So we lifted it into the old timers truck and drove it to the other levee on Florida ave, Bayou Bienvenue, by the scrap yard and pump station. This levee only has a steel ladder to go up and over, so we had to hoist this barrel full of gator up the ladder and down the other side. We brought it to the outflow of the pumping station into bayou bienvenue, which is where I go canoeing, and Richard goes fishing. Years earlier, T-mos, my good friend and original resident of Jamestown, left his cellphone there. Richard found it, and because of the address taped on the back, brought it to my place to return it to Tom. This is how our friendship started.
At first i tried untying the knot, but then just decided to cut the rope with a machete. The gator was able to wriggle free, with some help, and we dumped it out into the water. As we did we saw at least three other decent sized gators waiting to greet it. So yeah, job finished, we shared a laugh. The old timer went fishing, Richard went back to work, and Tom and I went home and had a beer.
Four years ago, I got in my truck to go on a Home depot run, when, as I pulled out from my house, I saw a freakin alligator casually walking down the levee. At first I was just like "damn, that's some lower 9th ward shit right there" and kept driving, but then it kinda sunk in... this is where old ladies walk their tiny annoying dogs, and little kids play football. Also, this gator is walking away from Florida ave, where it could have come out of the Industrial canal, and deeper into the neighborhood. It wouldn't be able to climb back into the canal until after the St. Claude Bridge in the Holy Cross. So I parked the truck and called the one guy I know that has probably been in this situation before: Richard. Richard is a local, who works in the pumping station on Florida ave. For years, before he started making enemies at the sewerage and water board by demanding basic workplace protections, he used to walk the two blocks over to Jamestown (aka Lower 9th Wardermelon, aka my place) to hang out. He was a big guy, very fit, probably mid 40s, and he spent his whole life back in the swamps fishing, hunting and as a kid just messing around and getting out of the hood. He used to bring over fish he caught and we would cook them on the fire. Couchsurfers were always blown away by their "authentic Louisiana experience" whenever he came over. Anyway, while i was waiting for Richard to walk over I push started the motorcycle/sidecar which was left at my house. I figured it was the appropriate vehicle for this situation. I tied a piece of frozen dumpsters chicken to a string and drove onto the levee and tried to entice the gator to turn around. Not happening. This gator was not interested in food right now. Richard walked over, and he was excited, but he's not the one to show it. He's just calmly joking about the situation. Then we see two hip guys in their 20s walking towards us. There was a big film crew filming some tv show or something down the street and these guys were just taking a smoke break or something. We were waving as they walked closer, us standing right next to the gator and pointing, but they didn't notice. Eventually I said, "Yo, watch out for the gator" and their reaction was great. Search YouTube for "black guys react to magic", that's pretty close.
So the film crew guys head back after a couple minutes of good laughter and jokes, and richard and I, and some other folks, especially Tom Wilson, from my place are coming up with a plan. Then this super stressed out production assistant rolls over in her Prius and starts bossing everyone around, let's just call her Karen. She was a total bitch, no other way to say it. Telling all of us, that we don't know what we're doing and she is the only one who can handle this properly. And she has to because its near the film set. Richard and I keep looking at eachother and smiling, thinking, you may be these people's boss, but to us you're just some crazy white lady who has no idea what to do. At this point some other local old timer on his way to fish in the Industrial canal pulls over his truck and is loving it. He's totally down to help, and we had a couple ideas, but Karen told everyone to just backup. She was calling in the professional. So then, in comes Tuna. Redneck crocodile Dundee type dude who was a professional animal handler for the film set. Meaning he was in charge of the well trained actor dogs. He wanted nothing to do with any of this. He assured us he doesn't have the right tools, which we took to mean he doesn't know what to do. So then Karen instructs me to get a brand new tarp out of her car, which i did despite having plenty of old shitty tarps I offered. Tuna covered the gator with the Tarp and then tried to pin it down. All of us, except Karen thought this was super dumb. Like, what's the next step? Tuna did NOT want to do it. The gator was not into the whole tarp thing. So Tuna cautiously approached and then went in to hold its head down.
Tuna got bit.
Bit by a fucking 100lb alligator. It was a warning bite, like a quick snap then backed off with mouth wide open to say "get off of me you idiot". Tuna looked at the big punctures in his arm and said "fuck this shit, I'm out" and walked back towards the film set where i hope he got a ride to the hospital, but who knows. Karen was not sympathetic. We looked at Karen and said something like, "ma'am, do you still want to be in charge of this situation". She huffed and puffed and said she needed to get back to work, and we're all probably going to get ourselves killed. "Ok, ok" Richard said, in classic Richard calmness. I'm just thinking, "free tarp!"
So then we got to work, me Richard, Tom, and this old timer. We got a 2x4, and some rope. We tied a loop in the rope and Richard, the badass that he is, used the 2x4 to push the gators mouth shut. We slipped the loop over the gators head and pulled tight. It worked better then we could have imagined. The gator went into a roll, which is what they do when they want to fuck shit up, but because of the rope it just rolled itself into a big knot. So then we took a 55gal plastic barrel and just pushed the open end over the gators head and turned it upright. So now we had a gator wrapped in rope, head down in a barrel with its tail sticking out. So we lifted it into the old timers truck and drove it to the other levee on Florida ave, Bayou Bienvenue, by the scrap yard and pump station. This levee only has a steel ladder to go up and over, so we had to hoist this barrel full of gator up the ladder and down the other side. We brought it to the outflow of the pumping station into bayou bienvenue, which is where I go canoeing, and Richard goes fishing. Years earlier, T-mos, my good friend and original resident of Jamestown, left his cellphone there. Richard found it, and because of the address taped on the back, brought it to my place to return it to Tom. This is how our friendship started.
At first i tried untying the knot, but then just decided to cut the rope with a machete. The gator was able to wriggle free, with some help, and we dumped it out into the water. As we did we saw at least three other decent sized gators waiting to greet it. So yeah, job finished, we shared a laugh. The old timer went fishing, Richard went back to work, and Tom and I went home and had a beer.
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