It's curious how stories string together. In this case, it began in one neighborhood and transitioned to another. At a celebration at the home of close friends and neighbors -- a plethora of parties take place in our subdivision -- the host invited my better half and me to join an entourage in the capacious garage where he had something to show us. There was parked the most beautiful car -- a brand new Jaguar. Between you, me, and the fencepost, the gentleman proclaimed it, to the crowd gathered, his wife's last car.
Now, in order to protect my pal's privacy -- she and I share a birthday, celebrated each December with our spouses in New Orleans -- I'll call her Adelaide (not her real name). Adelaide isn't old as the hills so it would very much surprise me if this were her last automobile. But she has certainly, thus far, driven her fair share. A former resident of the Motor City and wife of a Ford executive, Adelaide has enjoyed a parade of Jaguars. Her old one is parked in that ample garage, right next to the shiny new one. Uncertain if she is aware this is her last set of wheels, I'm not going to break the news and certainly not on our birthday.
But I honed in less on the make and more on the color. Both vehicles were British racing green, as Adelaide fondly calls it. And this detonated a tide of memories. My mother's favorite color was green; whenever Momma had the choice, she chose green for the color of her automobile. Of course, she didn't always have a choice, and they were definitely not Jaguars.
In Franklinton back in that day, the consumer's choice was largely Ford, Chevy, Pontiac, and Buick. And perhaps Oldsmobile. I vividly recall, from my youth, my beloved first cousin once removed Genevieve Wood Magee -- I adored her, my "Aunt" G -- picking me up from Kathy Warren Stringfield's beauty salon, situated on the corner of Tenth Avenue and Parker. In a pretty new automobile that I made over, Aunt G informed, "'Uncle' Marvin lets me pick the color." Apparently, he =- an exceptionally successful (something he kept kind of quiet) businessman =- took care of the rest. But the color of a car is critical. In all candor, it makes or breaks it.
In the early years of my youth, my folks drove Buicks and Oldsmobiles, in a silvery shade of green. Even the minivan that my father bought in his twilight years to ferry his only grandchild around was a deep forest green. But in addition to color, what these early vehicles had in common was origin. My father subscribed to the theory that one hand washes the other; accordingly, as the long-time administrator (CEO) of the Bogalusa Community Medical Center, he purchased his, and our, cars and trucks from businessmen in Bogalusa.
And this brings me to the next neighborhood, where my husband Rodney had occasion to venture into the home of the late Janet Tuthill, the wife of the late Dr. Sanford W. Tuthill, a long-time cardiologist who was on my father's medical staff in Bogalusa. With the family parting with some special possessions of their parents, Rodney picked up a coveted cloth calendar from 1973 from Lindsley-Feiber Motor Company in Bogalusa, showcasing "Buick's Classic Three" - the 1903 Buick Model A, the 1933 Model 33 Fifty-Six C, and the 1963 Riviera. Crisp, cream linen on a cord, ready to go. And there, front and center, was a 1933 Model 33 Fifty-Six Coupe - it was a green Buick from an establishment, unbeknownst to Rodney, owned by my father's friend Bert Feiber.
Selling Chevrolet and Buick, Lindsley-Feiber Motor Company, situated at 200 Austin Street, was founded in 1929 in Bogalusa. The business later became Boutwell-Feiber Chevrolet Buick, owned by Robert A. Boutwell.
But going back to the beginning, Bertrand August "Bert" Feiber was born in 1908 in New Orleans to Arthur Virgines Feiber (1879-1942) and wife Edna Murray Feiber (1884-1974). He was the brother of Doris Sanche Feiber McGuire (1906-1997), James George Feiber (1910-1954), and Elsie Rita Feiber Hyer (1913-2004). Bert attended the University of Florida and married Mary Ann Smith Feiber (1903-1967) in 1935. But before that, he had begun an automobile enterprise, entering the business in 1929 and later, around 1947, becoming a franchised dealer.
Bert Feiber was a naval officer in the South Pacific during World War II, receiving the Bronze Star for his significant service. By 1967 he was retired from the Naval Reserve, having admirably served as Commander. So, it came as no surprise to me to learn that upon his leavetaking in the summer of 1999 -- he succumbed almost a month to the day before my dad -- Mr. Bert was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.
But long before, he had honorably served his profession and his community. In his chosen line of work -- the automobile business -- Feiber was both Director and President of the Louisiana Automobile Dealers Association and Commissioner of the Louisiana Motor Vehicle Commission's Sixth District. Civically, he was very active in the Bogalusa community where he was involved with the Chamber of Commerce, Community Chest, Red Cross, Boy Scouts, and Rotary Club, the latter of which he was president.
Feiber was so well respected in Bogalusa that in 1958 he was selected "Boss of the Year" by the Junior Chamber of Commerce.
In June of 1964, near the time of Bogalusa's Golden Jubilee, the following gentlemen were employed by Lindsley-Feiber Motor Co.: Opie Leavell, Robert Hobgood, Roye Pierce, Herman Adams, Tom Amoss, Chick Childress, Gilbert Holden, J. W. Criscoe, Porter Cothern, Herschel McDonald, Bruce White, and Mack Barlow. The dealership's full-page advertisement in "The Bogalusa Daily News" read "Dress Old-Fashioned for the Golden Jubilee, but Go in Style in a sparkling new Chevrolet or Buick."
Then in 1967, Bert Feiber was elected as the representative for the state of Louisiana on the National Automobile Dealers Association for a three-year term that began in January 1968 - a tremendous honor. But perhaps most significant to yours truly, it was about that same time that Bert Feiber served on the Board of Directors of the Bogalusa Community Medical Center, for which my father had been named CEO in October of 1964. And so began the Buicks my dad purchased for our family.
As a youth, I never dreamed that we were riding around "in Style" in my mother's green Buick, but I imagine Mr. Bert Feiber thought otherwise. And my chum Adelaide would have loved the color.
