First, let me confess that I know little about the Tangipahoa Parish Sheriff’s Office that doesn’t fall under the description of ancient history. Nor do I know Sheriff Gerald Sticker or any of his deputies.
That ancient history, by the way, dates all the way back to the mid-1970s – half-a-century ago when a sheriff’s department public information officer was involved in an abortive scheme to have then-Southeastern Louisiana University President Clea Parker fired for corruption.
I was working at the time for the Baton Rouge State-Times and Editor Jim Hughes told me to take a trip to Hammond and look around to see if there was any merit to the allegations.
I did, and found no evidence of any wrongdoing by Parker and so reported to Hughes who told me to just forget about it. (A majority of tips about corruption and misdeeds did and still do turn out to be nothing burgers.)
On an ensuing visit to Tom Kelly, my old publisher at the Ruston Daily Leader, I told him of my dry run to the university. He bolted upright, snapped his fingers and said, “Wait a minute! I have a brother-in-law who teaches there and he told me that an official at the school told him in the student union, “You’re looking at the next president of Southeastern. Gov. (Edwin) Edwards promised the job to me.” Kelly told me the official’s name.
Back in Baton Rouge, young, inexperienced and naïve, I simply walked over to the 34-floor State Capitol, took the elevator up to the fourth floor and announced to the receptionist that I’d like to talk to the governor. No appointment – just walked in cold.
To my now-astonishment, she said, “All right, sir. Have a seat and he’ll be with you in a minute.”
A few minutes later I was ushered into the governor’s office. There was no one in the room, so I took a seat at his desk. A few minutes later, Edwards strode past me from my right, walked around to his desk whereupon he proceeded to step up feet-first into his chair and perched on the back of the chair with his feet where his butt should have been. Holding a disposable cup of coffee in both hands he said simply, “May I help you?”
Being the somewhat direct sort, I blurted, “Governor did you promise the presidency of Southeastern to ________?”
Edwards, with a well-earned reputation of being even more direct, never blinked. “What I promised _______, was if the presidency became open, I would endorse him for the position and since I appoint all the board members (State College Board of Trustees), my endorsement would carry considerable weight. Does that answer your question?”
Boom. Just like that, I had a front-page story and all hell broke loose. The person in question was irate and called me at the paper screaming. I calmly told him if he had a problem, he needed to take it up with the governor because that was my source. Never heard another word.
The point I was leading up to with this story is I received a message from the Tangipahoa Parish Sheriff’s Office via a third party that I was invited to never set foot in Tangipahoa again. Tempers apparently cooled because I was later to promote a monthly comedy show in Hammond for several years – a show that regularly featured a then-Tulane med student named Ken Jeong who you may have seen in the Hangover movies or the TV show The Masked Singer.
Fast forward to last Saturday. Tax proposals being pushed by Sheriff Sticker failed, leaving the office in dire financial straits – if one listens to the sheriff, though it’s pretty difficult to feel sorry for someone pulling down $276,000 per year in salary, expenses and retirement benefits.
But the results of the election apparently were not enough. Sticker or someone in his office posted this message on Facebook:
Now, I’m no expert in public relations but it seems to me posting a somewhat petty message like that would seem to be a guarantee of a single term in office. Folks don’t like taxes and they for sure don’t like their elected officials thumbing their noses at their constituency – unless, of course, you’re Donald Trump.
Louisiana Voice 