Louisiana Voice

Many years ago, 1974, to be exact, I was a reporter for the old Baton Rouge State-Times, mostly responsible for labor-related news coverage. But Edwin Edwards was gearing up to run for a second term with principal opposition expected from Lake Charles State Sen. Bob Jones. But another, lesser-known name was set to make a formal announcement. City Editor Jack Lord assigned me to cover the event at the old Oak Manor Hotel on Airline Highway in Baton Rouge.

I still believe the whole affair was a practical joke and I was set up, but that’s another story for another time.

I dutifully showed for the press conference in a red shirt and white tie that was about four inches wide and tied with a double Windsor knot at my neck the size of a baseball (yes, I was a fashion plate—women wanted to be with me and men wanted to be me) only to fine a large meeting room with about 200 chairs set up (there weren’t that many print and electronic media reporters in Baton Rouge, New Orleans and Lafayette combined).

I was the only reporter to show up for the announcement of “Cousin” Ken Lewis’s candidacy for governor.

Lewis eventually entered the room and went directly to the dais and read his somewhat lengthy, formal announcement as if the room were packed. When he finished, he announced that he would take questions.

I looked around the empty room and finally raised my hand.

Spotting me among the packed house cleverly disguised as empty seats, he pointed and said, “Yes, the gentleman in the red shirt.”

Again, I looked around the room to be sure he was calling on me before somewhat hesitantly asking, “Is this for real?”

Back at the paper, Jack Lord and the rest of the newsroom were thoroughly enjoying the whole affair and I had to admit the whole thing was rather amusing.

It conjured up memories of another character who relished the opportunity to take on the stuffed-shirt politicians by running outrageous political campaigns. That, of course, was long before the most outrageous of them all, one Donald J. Trump. But again, I digress.

Puggy Moity was something of a legend in Louisiana politics. He would run for anything—sometimes for more than one office in a single election. He ran in the 1971 gubernatorial race against Edwards. That was the race in which Edwards beat State Sen. J. Bennett Johnston for his first term as the state’s chief executive.

Moity, in that campaign, established himself as the candidate willing to do or say anything without fearing the consequences, legal or otherwise. Edwards, as most anyone knows, had a well-earned reputation as a womanizer but that didn’t stop Moity from calling him a homosexual. Edwards responded at a campaign event at the old Capitol House Hotel by walking up to Moity and planting a wet kiss on his cheek.

But now, the combined ghosts of Moity and Lewis have appeared in a single personage in Livingston Parish where a candidate for sheriff has launched his campaign in a most unusual fashion and with a platform that remains elusive and perplexing, to say the least.

Walter Ray “Beau” Wesley, of the Upper Sweet Gum Nation, has set up his campaign headquarters on the side of LA. 1019 across from Hunstock Road in Watson, north of Denham Springs.

It’s pretty well established that incumbent Sheriff Jason Ard was quaking in his boots until it was learned that Wesley had been disqualified because he was delinquent on his taxes. Word is he showed up in court looking the way he does in the photos below and was sent home to change into something more appropriate before being allowed in the court room for the hearing on his abortive candidacy.

Caution: Photos contain words and terminology that may be offensive to some:

PHOTOS