"The trained nurse has become one of the great blessings of humanity, taking a place beside the physician and the priest."
--Dr. William Osler, renowned physician
Some ten years ago I penned a piece on Florence Nightingales in Washington Parish, where a flock of devoted nurses live and work. My goal back then was to recognize as many as I could remember. Notably, nursing seems to run in families. I dedicated the latter part of that first column to the descendants of Lucille Thomas, long-time dietician at the Bogalusa Community Medical Center, whose sister Veona Armbruster was a nurse there. Following in their footsteps, Ms. Lucille's daughter Lynne Carter Freeman, granddaughter Marsha Carter Miller, and great-granddaughter Allison Moseley Hillman were all nurses.
And at that time, I also made mention of sisters Louise Talley and Rose Conerly who were nurses at the Bogalusa Community Medical Center where my father was the long-time administrator/CEO. What fond memories I have of Ms. Louise and Ms. Rose, lovely ladies I came to know when I was just a tot. They were most kind, to me. And as far as nursing went, the two were old school - superior and honorable.
From the beginning, nursing was steeped in great tradition and honor. And Rose Conerly and her sister Louise Talley surged to the top of the profession. I can still see them in their crisp white nursing uniforms in the hospitals and doctors' offices - each in the iconic nurse's cap. And attire aside, they persevered in their chosen, noble profession, sedulously seeing a legion of patients in Washington Parish through medical hardship. Natives of Bogalusa, the Menish sisters - Rose and Louise - were at the bedside of many a patient, providing superb, compassionate care at the Bogalusa Medical Center.
Beginning with Rose, born in January of 1928, she was the daughter of Otry and Bob Lavinghouse and Tony Menish. A lifelong resident of Bogalusa, Rose was a graduate of the Elizabeth Sullivan Memorial School of Nursing, after which she completed her training at Charity Hospital in New Orleans.
For the record, the Elizabeth Sullivan Memorial Hospital (originally the Bogalusa Hospital), founded by Great Southern Lumber Company around 1908, was the predecessor to the Bogalusa Community Medical Center (BCMC). It was named for Elizabeth Sullivan, the wife of William Henry Sullivan, who served as the manager of Great Southern Lumber. Elizabeth was otherwise known as the mother of Bogalusa. The hospital remained a company hospital until 1950 when it became BCMC.
Beginning her nursing career at BCMC, Rose ardently dedicated the following forty years to her patients there, where everyone knew, admired, and loved her. By the end of 1981, she had worked at BCMC for 33 years, with 18 of them in the Recovery Room. And that's where I remember her best. In Ms. Rose's words: "I love my nursing career!" But it did not end after four decades at the Bogalusa Medical Center. No, siree Bob. In lieu of retirement, she embarked on a second nursing career, working with her dear friend Dr. Gilbert Caillouet, a family medicine physician, for another fifteen years. It was only when he closed his medical practice that she finally reluctantly retired, at age eighty-four. We should all be so lucky to have a profession, in which we serve so nobly and that we love so dearly.
And I would imagine that sharing the nursing profession with one's sibling must have made it even more enjoyable. Rose had that luxury, with younger sister Louise Menish Talley who also worked as a devoted nurse at BCMC. I fondly remember her as a Supervisor in the Physical Therapy Department there. Organizing and scheduling the department's work load, Louise had worked at BCMC for twenty-five years by 1981. And in January of that same year, Ms. Louise became a proud first-time grandmother to a baby granddaughter. Both sisters had beautiful families, blessed with children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
Louise Menish Talley, who was born in 1930, died in 2006. At age ninety-six, Rose Menish Conerly followed suit, meeting the Lord early last summer, on June 2, 2024. My mother and father thought the world of the two sisters. They were blessed with siblings Robert "Tinker" Lavinghouse, Dody Boone (Hayward), and Joy Lloyd.
The widow of Donald Ray Talley, Louise Menish Talley was survived by daughters Donna Talley, Patti Talley Lyons (Melvin), Deni Talley Black (Allen), and Tami Talley Cox (Dan) and by grandchildren Laura Lyons, Nicholas Black, Andrew Black, Alex Black, Patrick Black, and Matthew Cox and great-grandson Damon Lyons.
I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge what a good friend Deni Talley Black was to me, during my collegiate days. When I appeared on the LSU campus, a freshman in the summer of 1982, Deni was there waiting. An upperclassman and a beauty, she kindly reached out, recruiting me for membership in her sorority, Chi Omega. This genuine kindness, one doesn't forget.
The widow of Lionel "Chip" Conerly, Rose Louise Menish Talley was survived by daughters Lynda Cookston (Doug), Debbie Jenkins, and Kristen Nicoladis (Michael) and by grandchildren Anna Beth Chao, Lane Dedman, Grant Cookston, Clay Jenkins, Leah Jenkins, Conner Nicoladis, and Corbin Nicoladis and great-grandchildren Claire Jenkins, Weston Bush, Madeliene Chao, Piper Ward, and Riley Dedman.
Certainly grieving the loss of the sisters is their family. And then there are their patients and friends, all the lives they touched during their lengthy nursing careers. You know what poet Carrie Latet said, "Always thank your nurse, Sometimes the only one between you and a hearse." It is so. And if given a choice, I would have wanted the sisters Menish - Rose Conerly and Louise Talley - at my bedside. No patient could have been in better hands.
