Discover Lafayette

Andre Michot, a driving force behind Louisiana’s cultural soundscape and a founding member of the Grammy-winning Lost Bayou Ramblers, joins Discover Lafayette to discuss Michot Accordions.

Widely known for pushing Cajun music forward while remaining deeply rooted in tradition, Andre’s influence extends well beyond the stage. He is also the proprietor and craftsman behind Michot Accordions, where he builds, restores, and customizes traditional Cajun accordions entirely by hand, creating instruments that don’t just make music, but carry culture.

We sat down with Andre right before Christmas 2025, inspired in part by a recent Acadiana Profile article highlighting local craftsmen who help preserve the region’s musical heritage. Andre reflected on the shrinking number of Cajun accordion builders, noting that while there are now “maybe 10 or 12 accordion builders in South Louisiana,” there were once “30 or more in the 70s and 80s.”

Andre’s musical roots run deep. He grew up surrounded by Cajun music through his father and uncles, who started playing together as Les Frères Michot, an all-brothers Cajun band, in 1986. The individual musicians have played with each other and with numerous other groups since then.

Although accordion music was always present in his home, Andre didn’t begin playing the instrument himself until age 24. Before that, he filled in on guitar with his family’s band in the mid-to-late 1980s.

“That’s what I play with Lost Bayou Ramblers,” Andre shared, explaining that he learned accordion by borrowing instruments from his father, uncles, and anyone else who would lend him one. In 1998, Andre and his brother Louis formed Lost Bayou Ramblers, with Louis playing fiddle at the same time Andre took up accordion.

Andre’s path to accordion building began through curiosity and mentorship. A pivotal moment came when his friend Ray Abshire encouraged him to learn tuning from Randy Falcon, a respected accordion builder known for a sound associated with Cajun music from the 1930s through the 1970s.

“There’s probably no playbook,” Andre explained. “It’s mostly done by ear.” While machines help with precision, tuning ultimately depends on feel: air pressure, reed response, and how notes interact when played together.

Andre described the Cajun accordion as “quite a feat of engineering,” with “a hundred little metal reeds” held in place by beeswax. Unlike guitars, which rely on resonance, the accordion produces sound through air compression, making it both mechanical and deeply physical to play.

Technically known as a melodeon, the Cajun accordion features ten buttons on the melody side and two bass buttons for rhythm. Pressing a single button opens air channels to four sets of reeds across different octaves, producing layered sound from one note. The bellows, expanding and contracting, drive both airflow and rhythm.

“It’s very physical,” Andre said. “When I started, I would get halfway through a song and be out of breath.” He later realized he had been breathing in and out with the bellows themselves.

Cajun accordions are diatonic, meaning each button produces different notes depending on whether the bellows are pushed or pulled. This design creates the distinctive rhythmic pulse central to Cajun music.

Andre’s transition from tuning and repair to full instrument building came when Randy Falcon offered to teach him how to build rather than sell him an accordion. With a background in carpentry and furniture-making, Andre found the process both challenging and deeply satisfying.

After building his first accordion, word spread, especially as audiences learned of his craft through Lost Bayou Ramblers’ performances. Orders followed from family, fellow musicians, and fans.

“That gives the accordion its soul,” Andre said of the delicate reed work. “That part has got to be right.”

Most accordion components can be sourced locally, including wood, often cypress, sometimes supplied by customers themselves. Certain parts come from Italy, where Andre says, “80 to 90% of the accordions and accordion parts in the world” are produced, particularly reeds and bellows, which require a highly specialized manufacturing process.

Andre customizes each instrument based on how a musician plays. He listens to recordings, watches hand positioning of the artist, and considers tonal preferences. Differences in reed materials, zinc versus aluminum plates, steel reeds, block shaping, and tuning style, all can dramatically affect sound.

“It helps playing the accordion in addition to building them,” he said. “It’s nice to be able to put those two together.”

Building an accordion takes Andre an estimated 80 to 100 hours, from cutting raw wood to final tuning. As he approaches the final stages, installing reeds, buttons, and bellows, he describes entering a kind of creative frenzy.

“I can’t wait to hear how it sounds,” he said. “I’ve built over 50 accordions now, and I still feel that way.”

Properly made, an accordion can last decades. Andre plays an instrument that is over 100 years old, including one built in the early 1900s that passed through the hands of Ray Abshire and family members before reaching him.

Andre sees his work as cultural preservation. By continuing the tuning methods and building styles passed down by mentors like Randy Falcon, he maintains a sound closely tied to a specific era of Cajun music.

“You can play a Cajun accordion built and tuned here,” he explained, “and it’s going to sound and feel different than one built elsewhere.”

That sense of lineage—of sound shaped by place—is central to his work.

Andre described music as a constant presence. “I’m constantly waking up with songs in my head,” he said, sometimes humming melodies into his I-phone voice memos late at night and sending them to Louis, his brother and fellow band mates. Lost Bayou Ramblers’ sound reflects not only traditional Cajun influences but also blues, rock, and other genres the band members grew up playing.

Lost Bayou Ramblers recently performed at Moncus Park’s Christmas event, with upcoming shows at The Blue Moon (December 26) and The Broadside in New Orleans (December 27). The band is also beginning work on a new studio album, following several recent live recordings, including their collaboration with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.

For a more thorough history on the accordion’s history in South Louisiana, visit Lafayette Travel at https://www.lafayettetravel.com/blog/stories/post/cajun-creole-instruments-accordion/

Visit https://www.michotaccordions.com/ for more information on Andre Michot’s offerings.

In this episode, Adam Daigle, Business Editor of The Acadiana Advocate, returns to break down Lafayette and Acadiana’s top five business stories of 2025. With years of experience tracking economic trends, major developments, and the people shaping our community, Adam offers an inside look at what’s driving growth—and what challenges remain.

From the long-awaited arrival of Trader Joe’s to manufacturing growth, real estate trends, and the future of North Lafayette, this conversation is packed with insight.

Adam notes that Acadiana has mostly returned to pre-pandemic normalcy, but some sectors continue to adjust:

While Acadiana added thousands of manufacturing jobs since 2020, the closure of SafeSource Direct was a painful blow. The PPE manufacturer, built during the pandemic, couldn’t compete with ultra-low-cost Chinese imports. The result: 700 local jobs lost, many held by women and graduates of drug court programs.

Even so, Adam emphasizes that manufacturing remains a major growth engine. Companies continue to diversify away from oil and gas, and Louisiana’s industrial corridor—from I-49 to Hwy 90—remains active and expanding.

Adam continues to follow Lafayette’s housing market closely:

The market is tight—but not dangerously overbuilt.

The biggest story of the year: Trader Joe’s is officially in the works for the corner of Bluebird Drive and Camellia Blvd. in Lafayette.

Because the company is notoriously secretive, even the appearance of a permit created excitement. The land deal is expected to be finalized soon, with construction likely leading to an opening in late 2026 or early 2027.

Fun fact: Lafayette will become one of only three cities in the U. S. that have both a Buc-ee’s and a Trader Joe’s.

North Lafayette’s aging Northgate Mall has new life ahead. Entrepreneur Jacoby Landry purchased the property with a long-term vision for transforming the site—not simply filling it with retail, but creating a mixed-use redevelopment with potential for office, residential, and community uses.

Jacoby is rebranding Northgate Mall as “The Hub,” inspired by Lafayette’s nickname, Hub City, and the I-10/I-49 cloverleaf, which will be reflected in its new logo. The redevelopment will focus on mixed-use commerce, green spaces, and lighting to ensure safety and create a welcoming atmosphere.

Years of deferred maintenance mean slow, steady work ahead, but the project is finally backed by a local owner committed to revitalization.

The first major opening recently announced is Xtreme Health Club, a full-service fitness facility taking over the former Planet Fitness space. Owned and operated by Jacoby Landry’s sister, Rachel McCorvey, the facility will feature a nutritionist, weight management services, Botox, IV drips, sauna, hot tub, salt room, cold plunge, a health bar, and two indoor pickleball courts. Pilates and boxing fitness will also be offered, bringing Red’s Health Club-like amenities to North Lafayette on a smaller, community-focused scale. It’s expected to open in early 2026.

The massive travel center planned for I-10 is still happening, but Buc-ee’s has pushed back construction. The company is re-evaluating store designs nationwide, impacting multiple projects—not just Lafayette’s. The new projected opening is 2028.

Even with delays, the development will be a major economic catalyst, generating hundreds of jobs and significant sales-tax revenue.

One of the biggest economic losses of the year was the shutdown of SafeSource Direct’s facilities in Broussard and Lafayette Parish. Global PPE competition, especially from China, made U.S. glove manufacturing unsustainable.

Key impacts:

Lafayette lost an icon with the death of Red Lerille, founder of Red Lerille’s Health & Racquet Club and beloved community figure.

Adam reflected on:

Red’s influence on local fitness, business, and civic life is irreplaceable. Yet, his family follows in his loving footsteps and Red Lerille’s Health Club will remain a bedrock of our local fitness community.

Adam highlights Mandi Mitchell, CEO of the Lafayette Economic Development Authority, as one of the region’s most impactful leaders. “She’s got an incredible background working as an Assistant Secretary with the Louisiana Economic Development. It was a great grab to get her back here in Lafayette.”

Her accomplishments include:

Mandi Mitchell’s philosophy that has inspired Adam Daigle and his favorite quote of the year: “If you want to change Lafayette, you have to build the people here to do it. The cavalry’s not coming.”

Adam anticipates several big developments in the coming year:

A massive mixed-use expansion planned south of Chemin Metairie—bigger than Sugar Mill Pond.

Projects like First Solar’s facility in New Iberia and partnerships with companies such as Noble Plastics will bring hundreds of new jobs and long-term growth.

An 84-room boutique hotel breaking ground at the former Don’s Seafood site—adding much-needed lodging to downtown Lafayette.

Two drone companies, DMR Technologies and Drone Institute, LLC, are moving into the former Reptile Tannery Facility which was originally the L. A. Frey Meat packing plant building at 105 Dorset Avenue, positioning Lafayette as a future leader in drone manufacturing, training, and emergency-response tech.

A public–private partnership near the Cajundome and Cajun Field could bring a regional-scale sports facility to Lafayette, boosting tourism and event hosting.

Lafayette continues to lose 20–30 restaurants per year—a typical number, but Adam notes rising oversaturation and operating costs. Fast-casual and takeout remain strong, but dine-in restaurants face higher risk and shrinking margins. Even kitchen-ready restaurant spaces are sitting vacant longer than usual.

Despite frequent headlines about dilapidated hotels and blighted property, Adam does not expect major redevelopment along Pinhook Road in the short term. LCG is focusing instead on stabilizing the city’s expanding “empty urban core,” particularly the Evangeline Thruway and Johnson Street corridor near UL

Adam continues to document Acadiana’s economic story through:

You can subscribe to the Acadiana Advocate either digitally and/or print editions here.

Adam Daigle’s work combines hard data with human stories—spotlighting the entrepreneurs, workers, and leaders shaping Lafayette’s future. We thank him and the Acadiana Advocate for our valued partnership. Each Monday morning, the Business online newsletter shares Discover Lafayette’s latest podcast news.

Discover Lafayette welcomes Hans Nelsen, known on air as “Fast,” who co-hosts the morning show on Big 102.1 from 6:00 to 10:00 a.m. each weekday with CJ Clements.

Hans has been on the air in South Louisiana since 1985, starting as a USL student working the graveyard shift at a new urban contemporary station and going on to serve as on-air talent, program director, account executive, and sales manager at several top local stations.

He also spent years as a stadium voice and play-by-play broadcaster, and his career has become intertwined with the story of local broadcasting in Acadiana.

Hans was joined by his lifelong friend Sean Trcalek, General Manager of KATC TV-3, who was once known on radio as “Charlie Roberts.”  The two reminisce about their early days as radio co-hosts and their lifelong friendship.

Early Love of Music and the Magic of Radio

Hans grew up in a home filled with very different kinds of music, from German organ to big show tunes, and a little boy’s transistor radio became his portal to the wider world of sound.

He recalls: “I grew up in a household where my dad listened to German organ music and would play it throughout the house on Sunday afternoons. We had to listen to it whether we wanted to or not. My mom was really into big show tunes. ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair” and “The Sound of Music.”

But his own soundtrack lived on his bike: “As a little boy, I had a transistor radio that I taped to the handlebars of my bike, and I would listen to top 40 in one way or another. 1972.” He loved the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and pop hits like “Billy, Don’t Be a Hero.”

As he got older, he says, “I really wanted to be a musician, and I wanted to be a singer, and I can’t really do any of that. I can play a little guitar, but radio was this next opportunity, though I didn’t really know you could turn it into a career. I just thought it would be something I did for fun.”

Learning Radio on the Graveyard Shift

Hans’ first job was at an urban contemporary station, Foxy 106.3 (KFXZ). Growing up in New Iberia, he already knew some of the music: “It’s funny, you could be a rock guy, but also listen to the Gap Band and Kool and the Gang.”

Even so, he had to go deeper into that catalog for a targeted audience: “This was deeper and a more targeted ethnic audience. But it was a piece of cake, because I loved music.”

Being alone on the air at night was intimidating: “Well, I’d listen to so much radio. You try to imitate or emulate Casey Kasem, but I was so terrible. The fact that they let me stay past the first night…It was the middle of the night miracle.”

He also remembers the mind games of that lonely studio: “You’re in a room by yourself and you can play mind games because you can either convince yourself that no one hears you, or that everyone’s listening. That one mistake, everybody’s going to hear it.”

Hustling Through College Radio and 24-Hour Weekends

Still in school, Hans got a weekend job at KVOL (1330 AM) and was quickly recruited by KSMB: “On my second shift, Scott Seagraves called me from KSMB and said, I’m listening to you. Do you want to come work for me?”

He was “so hungry” to be on the air that he took on extraordinary hours. ““I would do six to noon on KSMB on Saturday and Sunday, and quickly added noon to six on weekends at KXKW. So, I worked 24 hours in two days and worked at a bar both nights. But I knew that I had the bug, and I turn it into a job!”

That building is where he and Sean first truly connected and eventually became a morning team:

“And Sean comes into that building, we end up being the morning team and here we are.”

Teaming Up with Sean: Voices, Characters, and Parodies

Sean came in as a young newsreader, hired to do newscasts in the morning and afternoon. Their chemistry led to a two-man show that blurred the lines between straight news and wild characters.

Sean explains: “It started as you and Debbie Ray and me in news. Well, when Debbie left, it was you and me doing news. And I think it was just kind of like. Why do we need a third guy? You know, I still did the newscast, but it was a two man show.”

Hans recalls the “credibility issue”: “Sean’s doing the ‘17 people were killed today’ delivering the news and then he’s doing this crazy voice five minutes later and people knew it was the same guy. But we somehow just moved past that.”

The two displayed a gift for spontaneous skits and song parodies: “We both could really rewrite song lyrics. We could make custom versions of big songs at the time. Remember Michael Johnson’s ‘Give me wings, gimme wings.”  It would end up, “Don’t give me legs. Breasts or thighs!”

Hans says the creativity often felt effortless. “What was special about us? A special talent we both had was that there was no prep. We would sometimes do stuff and turn the microphone off. We’d look at each other thinking, that’s good. How did we just do that?”

Humor, Changing Sensibilities, and Wanting Everyone to Feel Welcome

Looking back at their 1980s material, Hans is candid about how much humor standards have changed: “Yeah, it was humor, but let’s just say sensibilities are different, right?”

He offered a vivid analogy from pro wrestling to show how certain stereotypes were once normalized and now are not: “The character development in the 70s and 80s was the Iranian guy or the Nazi guy was the bad guy. It was what they did. You just don’t do that now, right?”

Hans shared his personal compass: “I always wanted everybody to like me. I need as many listeners as I can get. They don’t have to look like me. They don’t have to vote like me. They don’t have to drive the same kind of car as me. But I want everybody to say, ‘I like listening to that guy on the radio.”

Music, Memory, and Nostalgia of Radio

For both Hans and Sean, music is deeply emotional and geographically specific; certain songs instantly bring them back to particular corners of their childhoods. Hans shared, “Some songs. What I’ve always been amazed by is when you hear a song and it brings you to a specific place. I mean, like a certain corner in your hometown and you’re like, why am I thinking of that when I hear  Sammy John’s “Chevy Van?” He offers another vivid memory: “Saturday in the Park by Chicago reminds me of standing in line at Saint Edward’s Catholic School for the cafeteria. I don’t know why.”

Becoming “Fast Eddie” and Then Simply “Fast”

A big turning point came when KSMB’s sister station needed a music director and night disc jockey. The job came with a new name Hans disliked: “They tell me, your name is going to be Fast Eddie.” He tried to negotiate the name away, but wouldn’t get the job if he didn’t accept the on-air name. KSMB was too big to walk away from:

Later, when he was put in charge of a new station and morning show, he pushed to shorten the name: “When we put the morning show on, it was the rude awakening with ‘Fast Eddie and Rob.’ We could have done it. It just didn’t sound right. Fast is a speed, not a name, but it ended up being I can’t go anywhere and people yell it out like it’s normal. When I hear Hans, it’s heartwarming. I love being Hans, I wish I could be Hans on air.”

The Power and Future of Local Broadcasting

Both Hans and Sean describe themselves first and foremost as broadcasters: “What we have always had in common and still have in common is we’re broadcasters. People say, what do you do? I don’t say I’m the general manager of a TV station, or I’m a broadcaster. We’re local broadcasters and we’re passionate about it. We have been since the day we met, and to this day, we’re passionate about the impact that local radio and television can have on a market.”

For Hans, that impact includes everything from playing nostalgia-filled music to public service in storms: “By impact, I mean moving people. When you play music, when you tell them what the weather’s going to be like, but also telling people where to go pick up sandbags.”

Hans reminds us, “During a hurricane, we’re still the last man standing. TV stations may go down… but I have been on the air during hurricanes when I was the only voice available on the air in this market.”

Sean highlights the advocacy role broadcasters have played in keeping AM radio in cars:

“We are big advocates, and were successful this past year in advocating that automakers continue to be required to put AM radios in new cars. The reason to keep AM radio is that its infrastructure often remains operational when power grids fail and cell networks are overloaded or damaged, providing a core part of the Emergency Alert System (EAS). During events like hurricanes, AM stations became the primary way people received verified, real-time information, coordinated help, and connected with the outside world when phones and internet were down.

They both reject the idea that streaming will wipe out local media: Hans says, “I’ll wrap that up with saying, Satellite radio and Netflix are not going to mean the end of local radio and local TV.”

A Morning Show Today: Competing With Phones, Not Just Stations

Hans reflects on what it’s like doing a local morning show in 2020s Lafayette:

“Technologically, it’s very different. Audience participation and reception is very different. We compete with many more things. I believe my biggest competitor in drive time is the telephone.”

Listeners no longer call to check school closures, they get texts, but live local radio still plays a crucial role, especially in emergencies.

Hans and his long-time friend CJ now host a show built on deep local roots: “We put this show together with almost a hundred years of Lafayette radio experience in one room for four hours a morning. There’s nothing that has happened here since the 60s that we don’t know about. We know where every street is. We know where the schools are. We know it. To me, it is a gift.”

Big 102.1 has embraced app listening while staying “radio-first”: “On big 102.1, we’ve had over 1,000,000 hours of listening on our app. We’re still a radio station first. So if that many people are listening, that’s why we’re still effective… we do everything we can to stay connected to the audience, to do relevant things, provide relevant content and make it fun.”

Voice of the Ragin’ Cajuns

From 2009 to 2017, Hans served as the stadium voice for UL Lafayette football and basketball, a role that grew out of his lifelong fandom: “I was such a fan. I was a Ragin Cajun as a kid. I wasn’t an LSU kid or a Tulane kid. It was USL.”

Eventually, security protocols and family priorities pushed him to step away so he could watch games in the stands with his daughter: “Because of security protocol, she could not come in the press box. So when it was my weekend, I lost the whole Saturday and I said I would rather be in the stands with her watching the game.” His last act as stadium voice was a memorable one:

“So my last duty was to introduce Billy Napier as the head coach. And I resigned that day.”

Christian’s Story, Organ Donation, and a Legacy of Life

In one of the most moving parts of our conversation, Hans shares the story of his son Christian, who died after a workplace accident in 2013. Christian fell from a picker truck in a warehouse, and although doctors did everything they could, the injury was catastrophic. “He fell 20 feet. When you say 20 feet, you think broken ankle, maybe broken arm, but somehow, on the way down, his feet hit the forklift and flipped him. And he landed on his head.”

At the hospital, after a brief brain surgery, the doctor came in and said, “Call your family.”

When representatives from Louisiana Organ Procurement Agency arrived, Hans initially felt overwhelmed and resistant: “I’m like, heck no, I’m dealing with too much.” His ex-wife, Jenn, reminded him of Christian’s own wishes when he got his license. “She said he would want to do it because he asked about it when he got his driver’s license.”

That decision changed everything; “I realized he was going to save somebody’s life.

We ended up saving four lives and it was life changing for us.”  Christian’s heart went to a teenage male that had been waiting for a heart for 18 months with time running out. Christian’s right kidney and pancreas went to a female in her 30s. His liver went to a female in her 40s, and his left kidney went to a little boy. His corneas were donated, which gave sight to 2 people. 

Hans began speaking to civic groups and driver’s ed classes about organ donation:

“We would tell kids at Driver’s Ed like, they’re going to ask you about this when you get your license, you should know what it means. Most people can’t be an organ donor, even if they want to. You have to die a certain way.”

He and Jenn started the Christian’s Legacy Foundation to create awareness of the importance of organ donation and to provide support to donor families.

Stories of other young donors continue to touch him deeply: “All these years later, those stories touch me in a different way. And I would not have read that story the same way had I not gone through that.”

Is Broadcasting Still a Good Career?

Asked if he would still recommend a career in broadcasting, Hans doesn’t hesitate, though he acknowledges the landscape has changed: “I’m always going to recommend a career in broadcast.

Sean explains that media sales in particular remain a strong path, even as technology and products evolve: “Your competition is different. Your products might be different. But of all we do, that’s probably changed the least.” There are fewer jobs, but better pay and more efficiency:

“KATC had 100 employees not long ago. Our building was built for 120 people and we’ve got 52 now. And it’s not just because of efficiencies. Our cameras are robotic now

Hans still longs to see young people with the same hunger he and Sean had: “I would love to see some young person who was like me or Sean who was willing to work 24 hours in two days when I was at KSMB. They fired the janitor, and for nine months I cleaned the building every night after I did my show, because I wanted them to see that I was willing to do anything to make it. And that’s not beneath me.”

Through stories of late-night graveyard shifts, irreverent morning shows, hurricane coverage, stadium announcing, heartbreaking loss, and renewed purpose, Hans Nelson, “Fast,” reminds us why local broadcasting still matters. As he and Sean put it, they are, above all, local broadcasters, passionate about “the impact that local radio and television can have on a market” and the ways music, stories, and community can move people.

You can contact Hans Nelson at [email protected].

We welcome Lafayette’s own master of illusion, Devon Faul, one of Acadiana’s most captivating magicians. Devon is known for blending sleight of hand with a deep sense of showmanship to create experiences that leave audiences spellbound. From close-up moments to full stage performances, Devon brings a unique blend of creativity, humor, and heart to his craft.

We explore his journey into magic, the discipline required to master illusion, and the universal connection he creates through wonder and surprise.

Devon says that people of all ages speak the universal language of wonder and awe. In today’s world, he believes many people don’t get that feeling as often as they used to because everyone’s kind of in survival mode. Magic, for him, is a way to reach out to people in a universal way and give them a feeling that they haven’t had before, one that reaches you on a deeper level. Magic for Devon is “the human condition, psychology, philosophy, struggles, triumph.”

Devon’s day job is work at Stuller, the largest jewelry manufacturer and distributor in North America headquartered in Lafayette. He calls it “kind of a dream,” explaining that they take people seriously and foster an environment where employees “feel like you can be a person. I’m super lucky to be working with them.”

Devon began devoloping his magic craft at age ten years of age, but not in the traditional way. He didn’t get hooked by a magic kit or a grandparent pulling a coin from behind his ear. Instead, he says “it actually started because my dad was in the oil field, so we moved a lot”—Wyoming, Louisiana, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Texas.”

“I was always the weird, quiet, out-of-state kid. You know, Wyoming people are very different than Louisiana people, who are very different from Virginia people. It’s like their own countries. Each state is its own territory.” Frequent moves and feeling out of place led to bullying: “People want to tear down that which they do not understand.”

As a ten-year-old, he imagined that maybe people wouldn’t bully him “if I had superpowers, if I could become Superman.” Magic became “the closest thing to superpowers,” a way to bridge gaps, build confidence, and connect.

Devon started with card tricks, “kind of everyone’s entry point.” He explained that card magic involves numbers, memory, psychology, and timing. “It’s getting used to handling a deck of cards just like any tool.”

He shares one of the mathematical realities that inspired him: If you shuffle a 52-card deck, “no deck has ever been in that exact order, and statistically, no deck in the future ever will be.” The concept mesmerized him: “It’s math, science and statistics and psychology.”

“You get into, like, this weird area of random knowledge. For example, if you have a deck of 52 cards, figure out numerically how many possibilities are on a deck of cards. It is mathematically 52 factorial, which is 52 times 51 times 50, all the way down to one. Which means if you shuffle a deck of cards in the history of a deck of cards, no deck has ever been in that exact order. And statistically, no deck in the future ever will be in that exact order. It is a deck of cards and magic, but it’s also math, science and statistics. So, you start off with card tricks and then you branch into anything and everything from there.”

While some magicians use trick decks, Devon says, “I pride myself on my sleight of hand. I don’t ever want to be reliant on any kind of apparatus. That’s not magic.” He wants spectators to be able to inspect anything he uses.

“Magic will come for those who seek it. I’ve always told people I don’t have any special capabilities that anyone else can’t develop. I just put in the time, the energy and the effort. Everyone wants the view from the top of the mountain, but very few people want to actually climb the mountain. And so it’s the destination, but it’s also more so the journey. So once you get the knack for cards and you develop that dexterity, then you see other things that are maybe more visual.”

Devon began learning magic through YouTube “when I was like 9 or 10.” Some tricks came easily; others took relentless practice. “The cool thing about magic is that it kind of compounds a little bit… it builds the dexterity in your hand to then be able to do something totally different.”

Devon performs with cards, coins, rings, ropes, and also does mentalism—“reading minds.” He studied reading systems and even tarot, not spiritually, but “as a way to understand it for what it is.”

He notes that ancient magicians, including shamans and the oracle at Delphi, used magic to bring people spiritual well-being and peace of mind, much like the psychological effects we recognize today.

Devon believes magic belongs alongside poetry, storytelling, and painting. “Magic is so pervasive through human history,” he says, describing innovators like Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin and the famed Light and Heavy Chest illusion. “The effect would be that the magician might be able to lift the box. But when the box is set back down, no other spectator could lift it. Or maybe a child could lift it, but no adult could.“ This magician has been rumored to have stopped a violent revolt in Algeria that threatened to erupt into a full-scale war with France. In 1856, the French government commissioned him to perform his magic for Algerian tribal chiefs, who were being incited to rebellion by religious leaders claiming magical powers. Houdin’s show of superior illusion, including catching a bullet and the light and heavy chest trick, demoralized the rival magicians and quelled the uprising. 

Devon sees magic as the art of altering perception: “Magic is about perception… because perception is reality.”

While science says matter cannot be created or destroyed, “a magician pulls a coin out of thin air.” The illusion forces us to confront the gap between what is real and what seems real.

Devon explains that magicians often specialize in:

He prefers close-up and parlor for the “intimacy” they create.

Devon admires Penn & Teller. Teller doesn’t speak because “he found that the magic would speak for itself.” Devon notes that magicians unconsciously build misdirection into speech patterns, but Teller proves that “you could say absolutely nothing and let the magic speak for itself.”

Devon loves connecting with people: “We all have stories… we’re like screaming, this is me, this is who I am.”

Magic allows him to meet people and share meaningful experiences, because “none of us make it out alive… we’re all in the same playing field.”

His signature maroon velvet suit and handlebar mustache? It’s intentional: “I love the vaudeville style of magic.”

And yes—he wears velvet suit to work: “Oh, absolutely.”

Devon says: “Being a magician is not necessarily just a career choice… It’s a mindset.”

A magician is “someone who creates their universe,” seeks knowledge, solves problems from new angles, and explores what is “possible versus impossible.”

Magic teaches him to “tear open the fabric of reality for just a split second.”

Devon explains that magic at corporate events can make “two people who have been working together for ten years and just never seen each other” suddenly bond. Magic creates conversations that lead to genuine connection. “Magic speaks to everyone… it’s arguably unmatched in that regard.”

Devon once hypnotized his cousin after practicing from YouTube tutorials. Her hand stuck to the wall—so convincingly that “the genuine look of concern in her eyes told me, oh wait, this might be real.”

When he released her, “you could hear the sound of her hand coming off the wall.” She told him, “my brain was telling my hand to move and it wouldn’t respond.”

He explains that hypnosis is misunderstood but real, sharing examples like highway hypnosis while driving and gut-level decisions.

Devon discusses how the same psychological tools magicians use were once used by pickpockets and con artists. He references a historic painting depicting the cups and balls trick—“the oldest trick in the book”—where someone is performing magic while a thief steals a nearby spectator’s purse.”
“In the ancient times of the Pharaoh, slaves would do magic tricks to distract the Pharaoh while others would sneak in and steal food. Some of the oldest magic tricks were removing the head of a goose and then reattaching it. And then the goose would walk or fly away.”

Devon also discussed a modern day master of deception, Apollo Robbins, who is one of the world’s leading experts on pickpockets and confidence crimes. Robbins made national news as the man who pick-pocketed the Secret Service while entertaining former U.S. president Jimmy Carter. He uses pick-pocketing and sleight-of-hand to demonstrate proximity manipulation, diversion techniques and attention control. Devon explained the science behind misdirection used by magicians: “There’s this little guy in your head and he’s running the security cameras and he sees everything, but he still has blind spots. You can only take in so much information at one time, and you don’t know what you don’t know. You can’t see what you can’t see. So there are times where if you’re looking here, something is happening elsewhere, or I’m setting something up in ten minutes, but because you don’t know what’s happening, you don’t know that me rubbing my nose is going to be something that helps me in like ten minutes. So there is like a core tool set, psychology.”

Visit https://devonfaul.com/ or call 337-366-2014 to contact Devon Faul.

Our guest is Teri Dupuy-Gore, Executive Director of Hub Lafayette Urban Ministries, a Christ-centered outreach serving our neighbors experiencing homelessness, chronic poverty, hunger, and difficult life transitions.

Teri shares how The Hub and its Lovewell Center at 1515 W. University Avenue in Lafayette, create a place to be present in our community and love people right where they are, offering not only practical resources but dignity, relationship, and restored hope.

Teri explains that Hub Lafayette Urban Ministries “actually unifies two separate ministries,” and that this conversation focuses on The Lovewell Center at 1515 W. University

Within the Lovewell, members access four resource “stores”:

All of these resources are available to members of the Lovewell Center.

Becoming a member is intentionally simple: “To be a member, you simply have to walk in and say, hey, I want to be a member. There’s no criteria.”

When someone joins, the team takes basic information: name, phone number (if they have one), address (or notes if they’re living on the streets), and next of kin — “because we want to become your family… we want to be your family anyway.” New members “automatically get 20 points for just joining us.”

The Lovewell uses a points system instead of cash so people can actively participate in their own progress: “You earn points by taking classes because we believe in healing and helping yourself… or you’d bring us your check stub from a job that you have now.”

Teri explains that this model is particularly powerful “for people who are struggling in chronic poverty, because we can help you offset the cost of everyday life without using money, but using points… you get to make decisions.” Members can choose to “earn points and store them up, or earn points and spend them,” and that freedom is central to their approach:

“We instill dignity and value in you… it’s a beautiful, beautiful opportunity for us to be able to be present in our community and love people right where they are.”

At the heart of Lovewell are the classes that help people earn points and, more importantly, work toward inner healing:

“Our classes are geared around broken relationships that we feel everyone has or will have — a broken relationship with God, a broken relationship with yourself, a broken relationship with others, or a broken relationship with creation. So our classes are all geared around healing in those areas.”

Classes typically run for eight weeks and meet for one hour, once a week. Facilitators are often people who have personally wrestled with the same issues they’re teaching about:

“I may overcome something and say, I would love to teach this class… using the experiences that I have and the healing that I’ve received… and share that with others. Giving them hope.”

Communication classes are a key example: “For some of our members… it’s very natural to have a confrontational conversation. It’s not natural to scale that down to where it is speaking truth with grace. It’s usually just truth in your face.”

The goal is to help everyone “have a voice and be heard” in “a polite and generous way.” Teri calls these classes “really the heart of the Lovewell Center” and “the heart of the mission of The Hub.”

She sums up their mission this way: “Our mission statement is, “We’re on a mission to offer everyone in our city access to restored life. And we believe in what we call the four R’s: Rescue, Relationships, Resources and Recovery.”

The Lovewell Center is open Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., with the yard open from 9:00 a.m. to 4:35 p.m.

For neighbors experiencing homelessness, it’s a safe place simply to belong: “If our friends experiencing homelessness need a place to go, they come and hang out with us, because they are wanted and belong.”

Every Tuesday night a community meal is offerred “Every Tuesday night we have community meal, which means we all get together and eat dinner together. Anyone in the community is invited… We start at 6:00 and we’re usually finished by 7:15–7:30 p.m.”

From 6:00–6:25 p.m., there are large-group activities — bingo, class time, or worship — and if you participate in those events as big group events, you earn ten points for that.”

Teri shares that on Tuesday nights they see 125–150 people, and during the day they have “90 to 100 people every day” coming through for services, community, and support.

Teri is deeply intentional about not harming the people they serve: “The core of the program is about empowering people through relationships to see themselves the way Christ sees them and to empower them to be all that God has called them to be.”

She speaks candidly about common pitfalls in helping: “In a world of ministry where we all feel called to give, at some point giving hurts. We then take from the person and we steal their dignity and their value because we want to do for them what they can do for themselves.” That’s why she describes The Hub’s posture as, “We are a hand up, not a hand out. We are not there to be sympathetic, we are there to be empathetic. We want to sit in it with you and encourage you and remind you that you’re not alone.”

Hub Lafayette Urban Ministries is 100% funded by donations by individuals, churches, grants, and in-kind gifts. Teri says: “Money is always welcome. It keeps the lights on. It keeps the coffee in the pots. It allows us to keep food on the shelves.”

They also always need physical donations, especially:

Meals for Tuesday night community dinners and Wednesday morning breakfasts are donated and served by volunteers, including local partners and cooks like Kent Zerangue, who prepares “the most fabulous meal ever from homemade ice cream… and shrimp stew.”

Teri emphasizes that everyone can do something: “Not everyone has the capacity to donate money. Not everyone has the capacity to donate their time… But everyone has the capacity to pray. Everyone has the capacity to pass on the word.”

For more information on donating, volunteering, providing meals, or inviting Teri to speak, listeners can visit Hub Lafayette Urban Ministries at https://www.hublafayette.org/or connect via Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/thehuburbanministrieslafayette or their Instagram page at https://www.instagram.com/thehublafayette/?hl=en

Discover Lafayette welcomes Kent Zerangue, the founder of Food With Love, “a heart centered ministry of Hospice of Acadiana” that he first began in July 2017 when he offered to cook for a former classmate whose son had been diagnosed with a brain bleed.

Kent had retired in March of 2017 with plans to open a catering business, but he experienced an epiphany that overshadowed any need to make money. He shares in our interview how his parents were devout followers of Jesus Christ and consistently demonstrated love to their family, neighbors, and community through their actions in helping and praying for others.

Kent’s culinary journey with Hospice of Acadiana was jumpstarted by a simple meal of shrimp and okra gumbo. When he was 18, a neighbor’s daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. The young woman loved the delicious shrimp and okra gumbo Kent’s mom would make, and he said, “I can still see my mom walking through the thick St. Augustine grass to bring Debra her shrimp and okra gumbo, and more importantly, to be present for a family in need.” Fast forward years later when Kent’s dad was in hospice care and a family friend came over with “shrimp and okra gumbo. The comfort that meal delivered was indescribable. This gumbo filled my stomach, but more importantly, this meal—this simple act of bringing food—placed unspeakable joy in my heart during a most difficult time.” Kent knew his retirement plans had to change. He decided to put aside notions of making a profit and begin cooking for families in need.

Since then, Food with Love has grown dramatically in its outreach, mobilizing volunteers to prepare and deliver “delicious, comforting, home cooked meals to patients and their families,” providing nourishment, dignity, and what Kent describes as “a tangible that our community cares about.”

Kent Zerangue assisted a longtime friend, Claire from his school days, when her 34-year old son was diagnosed with a brain bleed. He provided meals for the family while her son was in treatment in Houston. Kent shared that afterward, he began cooking for other families in need. By the end of his first year in cooking service, several other families were added to the food chain. When he saw Claire in person for the first time in 40 years she said “Kent, you are providing food with love!” Thus the name of the ministry was born.

Kent began by cooking for one family, and within months, support and demand grew:

By February 2018, Kent approached Hospice of Acadiana to officially offer meals:
“I kind of got my sea legs under me a little bit. And then they started giving me families.” By the end of 2018, he served about 60 families.

Today, Food With Love serves about 135 families, preparing approximately 800 meals a week. The simple, profound message is “Jesus loves you. Jesus has always loved you. Jesus will never abandon you.“

For over 7 years, Kent cooked from his backyard commercial kitchen. Volunteers arrived naturally—
“I had this lady call me one day…‘I’ve been watching you for about a year… Can I come volunteer?’ I didn’t even know I needed a volunteer.”

Eventually he approached then-CEO Kacee Thompson of Hospice of Acadiana: “Do we want food with love to be something that continues for the long term? Her response was, “Absolutely.” She later called him saying, “Are you ready to start fundraising?” A space had become available on the side of Hospice of Acadiana, on the corner of Johnston and Christopher Street. Kent shared: “In less than 11 weeks, we had raised $1 million.”

The kitchen is now fully paid for, USDA-approved, and equipped with the finest of equipment.

On the day we recorded our podcast, Kent shared: “Today we cooked loaded baked potato soup. 40 gallons of it. And we will put it in individual meals tomorrow. We had 18 volunteers in the kitchen this morning helping cook bacon. We cooked 25 pounds of bacon and potatoes just to get the soup ready.

We’re going to bag it, put it in bags, vacuum seal it, label it, freeze it. And then what a family does when they receive it, when they’re ready to eat it, put it in hot water, boil it for about five minutes and it’s ready to eat.

Food With Love has about 115 volunteers:

Volunteers handle everything from chopping and baking to making ice cream.

Kent emphasized the spiritual dimension: “No one thinks that they own it because it doesn’t belong to any of us. It’s his. It’s God’s.”

Kent cooks the foods he loves:

For Christmas:
“We make them a full plate lunch… rice dressing, the pork and all the sides.”

Food with Love’s beloved spaghetti is named Sadie Spaghetti and Meat Sauce, honoring Sadie, a teen whose hospice story is included in his book. Sadie loved Kent’s spaghetti sauce and insisted on eating only Kent’s version. (He did admit to adding brown sugar to the concoction!) Now, Kent says, “When I visit new families, I bring then Sadie’s spaghetti….I share her life, her purpose, and her journey home. Sadie’s mom insists: “Kent, never stop telling Sadie’s story. It keeps her alive.”

Kent said, “For the first four years, my wife and I paid for the food costs.” As the ministry grew, Hospice of Acadiana began supporting food expenses. Community donors and partners like David Puckett of Café Sydnie Mae have also played a major role. Food costs now total $50,000 to $60,000 per year. Kent explained, “It’s important to me that the community backs what we do monetarily, because it helps Hospice of Acadiana to be able to supply this God driven mission.” And of course, beyond food, there are costs for bags, equipment repairs, utilities, insurance, and more.

To volunteer:

To donate:

Kent Zerangue wrote and published Holy Moments on the Journey Home: Food With Love Stories, a book that honors hospice families and highlights “insights about holiness at the end of life while emphasizing the importance of being present to the sick and dying.” All profits benefit Food With Love. You can purchase a copy for $20 at Hospice of Acadiana, Cafe Sydnie Mae in Breaux Bridge, or on Amazon here.

Kent wakes daily at 3:30 a.m., spending two hours in prayer before starting his day:
“My own relationship with Jesus and my prayer time.” He cherishes his grandchildren, loves sports, and is always thinking about food.

Kent also shared deep admiration for his cousin, Father Floyd Calais, saying, “He was just the holiest of priests. The people’s priest. He was there for all of us.” There is a full chapter about him in Kent’s book.

Kent was clear about the ministry’s greatest need: “I need more delivery angels.”Not every one is a cook, but you can still help. He also explained the importance of prayer during visits: “Because when you pray with people, your relationship changes.” And he encourages volunteers not to fear the prayer aspect: “Don’t let that stop you. God has a plan for you. And it might be being a delivery angel. And we will help you with the prayer.”

This special episode of Discover Lafayette features an archival interview with Lafayette’s own Chanda Rubin, one of the greatest athletes to emerge from our community. Originally recorded in 2014 for Upper Lafayette on the Move, this conversation revisits Chanda’s remarkable journey—from a young girl learning to hit tennis balls against a chain-link fence in her family’s backyard to becoming a top-ten player in the world.

Growing up in Carencro, Chanda was inspired by her parents, Judge Ed Rubin and Bernadette Rubin, who built a tennis court behind their home. What began as family recreation soon revealed Chanda’s natural talent and determination. By age seven, she was competing in tournaments; by her early teens, she was winning national titles. Her first tournament at Thomas Park may have ended in defeat, but it lit the fire that propelled her forward.

Balancing her education at Episcopal School of Acadiana (ESA) with a burgeoning professional tennis career, Chanda turned pro at just fifteen. Despite traveling the world, she remained committed to academics—so much so that she skipped the French Open to graduate from high school with her class. Later, after retiring from professional tennis, Chanda earned her degree from Harvard University, embodying her lifelong belief in perseverance and education.

Rubin is a member of the Louisiana Tennis Hall of Fame and USTA’s Southern Tennis Hall of Fame, and is a respected spokesperson for her sport locally and globally.

Ranked as high as No. 6 in the world in singles in 1996, Chanda competed on the biggest stages, Wimbledon, the U.S. Open, the French Open, and the Australian Open, facing tennis legends such as Serena Williams, Steffi Graf, Monica Seles, and Martina Hingis. She is one of the few Louisiana natives to have made it on the pro tennis circuit. Her career was defined not just by victories, but by the resilience and focus that continue to shape her success today.

Chanda Rubin is a member of the Louisiana Tennis Hall of Fame and USTA’s Southern Tennis Hall of Fame. She captured a Grand Slam win in doubles at the Australian Open, as well as a Wimbledon Juniors singles crown at the age of 16. Chanda compiled a career singles record of 399-254 and was ranked as high as No. 6 in the world in April 1996. She ended her pro career in 2006, finishing with seven WTA singles titles and 10 doubles crowns.

Chanda also served three terms on the USTA Board of Directors as an elite athlete representative and is a familiar face in tennis broadcasting, providing commentary at Grand Slam events.

Chanda remains passionate about education, mentorship, and giving back to the community through motivational speaking and youth outreach. Her story reflects discipline, balance, and a deep appreciation for the lessons that sports and education impart.

Today we shine a spotlight on Louisiana Grass Roots, a compelling new documentary produced by Dr. Phyllis Baudoin Griffard and directed by Jillian Godshall. This film captures the voices of everyday Louisianians working to preserve our state’s environmental and cultural heritage, highlighting powerful grassroots movements shaping our future.

Jillian and Phyllis join us to share the inspiration behind the documentary, the stories that moved them most, and why community-driven action matters now more than ever.

This episode is also special on a personal note—Jan Swift’s daughter, Kelly, who works in the film industry at the Manship Theater, made this introduction. Even though we all live and work in the same region, this documentary brought us together in a way that highlights what community truly means in South Louisiana.

About the Filmmakers – In Their Own Words

Director Jillian Godshall began by expressing gratitude for the local connection that made this collaboration possible.

“I am a filmmaker. I’m also an educator. I’ve been doing both for over 15 years at this point. It’s taken me all over the world. I’m really glad to be here in Lafayette doing that work as well.”

Her background is deeply rooted in documentary storytelling: “My background in filmmaking is mostly in documentary filmmaking. I’ve worked on big budget, large scale reality TV show stuff—don’t tell anyone—and all the way down to where I feel most comfortable now, which is working on smaller-scale independent projects, having more of the creative leadership role, directing and being super involved in every aspect of production.”

Jillian also teaches video editing to incarcerated students through an organization called The Last Mile: “I currently teach video editing to incarcerated students… and work with Phyllis, hang out with Phyllis, plant plants with Phyllis.”

Producer Dr. Phyllis Baudoin Griffard shared her deep Louisiana roots and her global experience in science education: “I’m from Lafayette originally, grew up all over the South… I got a degree from USL in zoology and then went off to graduate school in biochemistry. I came back to Louisiana and started teaching at Xavier University, and I knew then that’s what I wanted to do.”

Phyllis’ work has always focused on connecting people to the land and ecology around them:

“Even as a biologist and teaching university students, I always was looking for local examples and to reconnect students outside the textbook to the biology that’s in their own backyard.”

She emphasized the importance of place in identity: “When I came home, I heard French, I heard the music—you can really connect to this place.”

The Origin of Louisiana Grass Roots: A Story Rooted in Place, Memory, and Rediscovery

Jillian and Phyllis did not come together through a traditional film industry channel; they were united through a local experience that awakened something deeper. Phyllis explains that after returning to Lafayette and connecting with the Acadiana Master Naturalist Program, she began to understand the importance of the Cajun Prairie through firsthand fieldwork.

“One of the topics is about the Cajun prairie… I had learned about the prairie, and I knew about it more from when we lived in Texas, because the people in and around Houston just ooh and ah about the prairie scientists we have over here: Larry Allen, Charles Allen and Malcolm Vidrine, who discovered what they have since called the Cajun Prairie. 2.5 million acres. Most of Southwest Louisiana was part of this prairie, which only less than 1% exists today.”

It was during a field trip with the Master Naturalists that she crossed paths with Jillian:

“I led one of the field trips and found out that Jill was a filmmaker, and I happened to say, ‘Oh, I just finished doing a film, The Quiet Cajuns, with Conni Castille.’ And her ears perked up and she said, ‘Well, I think we should make a film about the prairie.’”

Within two days, Jillian reached out to move the idea forward. It wasn’t a casual suggestion—it became a movement.

Funding the Vision: Community as Catalyst

Unlike many documentaries dependent on outside institutions, Louisiana Grassroots was made possible by local belief in the story.

Jillian said: “We were filming this project for over two years and had such incredible support from people along the way to make it possible. It’s one of the better-funded small projects I’ve worked on, in large part because of the support of the community, because of Phyllis’ know-how and ability to communicate these ideas to the average person.”

Phyllis detailed those early grant efforts: “The first grant we got was from the Acadiana Center for the Arts. We convinced them that we have this natural heritage around us that most of us, just because of modern life, are very disconnected from. We don’t really know what the land was like, what the people did there… and yet the reason our music and food are the way they are is because of the characteristics of the prairie and the bayous.”

She emphasized the artistic power needed to reach people:“You need powerful art to communicate big ideas. The visual.”

Additional support came from Atchafalaya National Heritage Area, Louisiana Native Plant Society, UL-Lafayette Foundation, and Cajun Prairie Habitat Preservation Society. “The Cajun Prairie Habitat Preservation Society got us to the finish line to finish production.”

Revealing a Vanishing Landscape: The Cajun Prairie as Cultural Ancestry

The film explores a truth many Louisianians are completely unaware of: our Cajun and Creole identity—our music, food, language, even the way our ancestors lived—is rooted in the prairie ecosystem that once covered southwest Louisiana.

Phyllis explains: “We are so proud of the music and the food that really make us who we are here. And yet the reason that they’re the way they are is because of the characteristics of the prairie and the bayous, the history of the people is the way it is because of the way the land is.”

The prairie is largely invisible now; not because it disappeared naturally, but because it was converted to agriculture due to its incredibly fertile soil.

“That’s why we’ve lost the prairies, because it was such good agricultural land.” Jillian reflected on the challenge of visually capturing something that is mostly gone: “In many ways it’s invisible to the eye… a lot of what makes the plants in the prairie so ecologically beneficial is also invisible because it’s happening under the soil.”

Jillian spent extensive time in the field not just filming, but learning: “I spent a tremendous amount of time with a camera, but more as a way to research and understand what was happening.”

Capturing What Was Lost – And What Can Be Reclaimed

One of the greatest challenges in producing Louisiana Grassroots was visualizing something that no longer exists in its original form. The Cajun Prairie, once 2.5 million acres spanning southwest Louisiana, is now less than 1% intact.

To bring this hidden world to life, the filmmakers employed creativity and collaboration.

“We were able to use animation to depict some of those invisible scientific processes, and we used a lot of archival footage to paint a picture of what the land was like and what the culture was like.”

They also incorporated footage from the 1990s documentary Wildflowers of the Cajun Prairie by filmmaker Pat Muir: “It features many of the scientists who now, 30 years later, are in our film. To be able to include his footage from the original film was really special.”

Phyllis points to these scientists, such as Dr. Malcolm Vidrine and Dr. Charles Allen, as the original visionaries: “They were really the ones who were able to communicate why it’s important, why it’s a significant part of our local cultural heritage, and they’re still doing that to this day.”

Hope Instead of Doom: Telling an Environmental Story Differently

Rather than present an environmental crisis narrative rooted in despair, Louisiana Grass Roots uplifts viewers by highlighting those actively restoring the land.

Phyllis said of Jillian: “When you see that something is disappearing, there’s that sense of doom, and Jill’s work is about environmental commitment and stewardship. How do you convey the seriousness and urgency without a sense of doom? She does that by saying, yes, these are important things, and look at the people who are doing something about it.”

Jillian affirmed the intention behind this filmmaking approach: “Filmmaking is the pinnacle of art mediums because it’s so immersive… you’re seeing and hearing and feeling and going along on a journey. It can be used for both good and bad. It’s always been really important to me to use it as a tool for positive change.”

Jillian emphasized her goal: “I don’t want to contribute to this feeling of doom and gloom… I would hope that all of us are able to appreciate the landscapes that surround us enough to want to be inspired to be involved in saving them and protecting them and celebrating them.”

Film as Education, Film as Transformation

The impact of Louisiana Grass Roots is not merely informational—it is transformational. Phyllis shared a definition that guided her vision: “The definition of learning is that the quality of your experience of the world changes. If the world doesn’t look different after you studied, then you probably haven’t really learned anything.”

That transformation begins with awareness. “When you drive down the road, you see fields or pasture and almost no one calls that prairie. But that’s what it is. My goal was that when you drive down the road, your eyes now see prairie.”

Jillian shared her personal transformation in making the film: “Making this film helped me feel really grounded here. I’ve installed a 20 by 20 little pocket prairie in my yard. My children help me take care of those plants. It’s become part of my life.”

Phyllis took it even further, restoring 30 acres of family land: “Steve Nevitt said, ‘I can tell this wants to be prairie again.’ When you become an expert in something, your world looks different.”

The Cajun Prairie is not only an ecological treasure; it shaped the culture, music, and identity of Acadiana. This documentary honors the people who carry those traditions forward.

Jillian shared how meaningful it was to include musicians and culture bearers whose artistry springs from the land itself: “We filmed with Geno Delafose and that was really special. His family members have been cattle ranchers for generations, and he is the first in his family to have been able to buy the land that he’s working cattle on. His music is in large part shaped by the land that his family has been working for generations.

The film also features Grammy-nominated musician Blake Miller of The Revelers: “He is the son of the prairie himself. It felt very special to be able to include him in the project, as well as Megan Constantin.”

Phyllis reflected on the deep connection between land, heritage, and identity in South Louisiana:

The prairie is also a story of many peoples, not just one label: “We’ve lumped everything together as Cajun, but we have Indigenous heritage, African American heritage, Creole heritage, Irish, Scottish, German — we’re a blend. Most of us are mutts. And the land shaped all of us.”

Indigenous Knowledge & The Power of Fire

One of the most powerful lessons from Louisiana Grass Roots comes from Indigenous stewardship practices, shared by Dr. Jeffrey Darensbourg: “The land, when it was being managed by Indigenous practices, was actively being managed. We think of wilderness, but they were very aware of how to manage the land in a way that was sustainable.” This includes fire — a natural and necessary part of prairie ecology.  One of the big drivers of prairie health and restoration were prescribed burns. When you burn, you bring up fresh growth which brings in more bison. We grew up with Smokey the Bear, but those burns have been critical.”

The documentary reframes our understanding of “wild land,” showing that nature thrives when people work with it, not against it.

Where the Prairie Lives Today

Phyllis shares where remnants of the Cajun Prairie can still be found: “The biggest tracts are south of Lake Charles. Some are on railroad rights-of-way, because mowing and burning for maintenance accidentally mimicked natural prairie processes.” And on private family lands: “There are lots of families who have acreage. Maybe the land is no longer farmed, and they can get federal support to restore prairie ecosystems. It builds soil and has benefits for farmers.”

How the Film Was Made

Jillian described the painstaking work of capturing a lost landscape: “Lists and lists and sleepless nights… I like to have a good plan, but you need to be flexible because you’re documenting real life.”

The film took more than two years, with over 30 hours of footage edited down to 28 minutes:

“We worked with a wonderful local editor, R. J. Comeaux… he did an amazing job.” Louisina Grass Roots was filmed locally with an all local crew.

Screenings & How to Watch

The documentary has already been shown to enthusiastic audiences across Acadiana — from Vermilionville to Moncus Park — often alongside seed-collecting and restoration events:

“By the end of the year, we will have screened the film 20 times.”

Upcoming screenings include:

The film is currently touring community screenings, with future plans to stream online and enter schools and libraries. There are also plans for curriculum pieces and educational video modules. . If you are interested in having the 30-min film screened in your area, please contact Dr. Griffard at [email protected]. Follow the project for updates: 📷 Instagram & Facebook: Louisiana Grass Roots

Final Reflections

This documentary is not simply about plants — it is about place, identity, and stewardship.

Phyllis said it beautifully: “The definition of learning is that the quality of your experience of the world changes.” Jillian added: “I hope all of us are able to appreciate the landscapes that surround us enough to be inspired to protect them and celebrate them.”

Heidi McDonald and Jason Stoner, the passionate duo behind Foodies of Lafayette and the Lafayette Community Fridge Program, join Discover Lafayette. Their mission blends a love for local restaurants with compassion for those facing food insecurity — all while promoting dignity, kindness, and connection within the Lafayette community.

Heidi McDonald founded Foodies of Lafayette as a Facebook group to celebrate good restaurants and people in the region, with one caveat — no negativity allowed. “I basically have two careers at this point,” she shared. “I don’t think that I fully comprehended in the beginning what it could be, what that impact could be. Jason came on board early on and made me see some things that I didn’t — just how it could grow, the organicness of the friendships that were happening and the power behind that.”

With over 112,000 followers at the time of recording this interview (and 113,700 a week later), Foodies of Lafayette has become a true culinary movement that uplifts both local restaurants and the people who enjoy them.

The Lafayette Community Fridge Program came under Foodies’ umbrella in late 2024. Jason explained, “The Lafayette Community Fridge was started in 2021 by another group of individuals. By the end of last year, only a couple of people were left, and Erinn Quinn, reached out to us and said, ‘Hey, would you like to take this over as a Foodies thing?’”

Jason admitted he felt an instant calling: “I really wanted to take this on. Heidi let me have it. I said, ‘I’ll handle most of the work, but I really want this.’ So she allowed me to have this baby, and it’s dear to me.”

Through Foodies’ reputation and community reach, people came forward to help. Jason said, “One of our first needs was to collect $30 a month for the electricity at McMillan’s Pub to run the utilities for the fridge. We don’t want Robin to come out of her pocket. We need to provide that. We had so many people donating that $30 and they’re like, how much do you need? Some would say, here’s six months. That paid us through 2026.“

The Lafayette Community Fridge has two locations — at McMillan’s Pub (2905 East Simcoe) in Lafayette and T-Boy’s in Abbeville. It is open 24/7 to anyone who needs food or wishes to contribute. And it is not just food that is needed; the sites also need power, regular maintenance, and clean outs.

Jason described how restaurants donate fresh, ready-to-eat meals rather than just shelf-stable goods. “There’s so much waste,” he said. “Why can’t we just be a little more efficient with organizing where it goes instead of the trash can?”

He praised Toby and Joey Lagneaux, owners of Lagneaux’s, for stepping up early: “We’ve got a lot of food coming off the buffet daily. Toby said, ‘Absolutely. We’ve been throwing it away. I would rather it go somewhere.’”

To keep meals safe, Taylor’s International donated 6,000 three-compartment Styrofoam containers, and Seth Randall of Logic Refrigeration provided a double commercial fridge. “No one touches the food between Lagneaux’s and the fridge,” Jason emphasized. “It’s picked up and taken directly to the fridge.”

For Heidi, the heart of the program is dignity. “It’s not less dignified to need something,” she said. “We just don’t know people’s stories. What if they’re getting it for their entire family? Or for a whole neighborhood because there’s only one vehicle? We all have the ability to give back. It’s not going to hurt us.”

She continued, “Just because someone is coming and picking up a meal from the fridge doesn’t necessarily mean that they don’t have anything to offer, because we can all help each other. It’s been really beautiful watching people come to pick up dinner and then realizing, ‘Oh, I have an extra can of something at home that I haven’t been using. I can come and put that and help somebody else.’ There’s strength in that. That’s the resiliency of our people — our ability to come together and love each other.”

Running the program requires daily dedication. “Getting volunteers organized is the big uphill battle,” Heidi noted. “People want to help, but they get busy.”

Jason keeps operations running smoothly with “Sign Me Up Genius,” an online volunteer scheduler. “We’ve got close to 40 people that have volunteered,” he said. “They volunteer their own vehicle, their gas… it takes 45 minutes, maybe an hour. The volunteers collectively drive about 650 miles a month, and are estimated to deliver approximately 9,000 meals in this first year.

Community generosity comes in all forms. “One of the gentlemen I work with, Craig Stelly, when he’s got a couple of extra hours on the weekend, he’ll cook 20 or 30 plate lunches — a gumbo or lasagna — and just go drop it off,” Heidi said. “We’ve got grannies that make a couple extra batches of cookies. Everybody thinks to donate canned goods, but not very many people donate all the good stuff.”

When Foodies took over the fridge, they also inherited its nonprofit status. “It was already a 501(c)(3), and Heidi and I moved the ownership over to our board,” Jason explained. “We do have a board for the community fridge. It’s a great board of people, and we thank them for sitting on it.”

The group’s Foodies Potluck at Lagneaux’s is an upcoming fundraiser for the Lafayette Community Fridge being held on November 2, 2025. “We invite members to bring a dish, a way to serve that dish, and a nonperishable for the fridge,” Jason said. “There were about 150 attendees last year — that’s 150 dishes. This year, it booked 200 people in under two weeks.”

Heidi added, “This is a fundraiser for the fridge now. There’ll be door prizes, an auction, and great items donated by local businesses. It’s truly a community effort.”

Heidi and Jason hope to continue expanding their reach, and when asked what a dream wish would be, Jason shared, “We would really love, love, love to bring Lafayette a food festival. With music, food, chefs — because in our area, food is equal to music in terms of importance.”

They also are looking to expand their Culinary Excellence Awards beyond Lafayette Parish. “There are great restaurants outside Lafayette that deserve recognition too.”

While the original Lafayette Community Fridge Facebook page remains inactive due to lost credentials of its previous managers, most updates and volunteer opportunities are shared through the Foodies of Lafayette Facebook group.

“The best way is still through Foodies of Lafayette,” Jason said. “You’ll see posts with a ‘Sign Me Up Genius’ link. It’s highlighted on the page and connects you to everything — volunteer, donate, or just get involved.”

“It’s nice to be able to use the Foodies of Lafayette voice for good,” Heidi said. “It’s nice to know that if I’m really in need and I throw out, ‘I need drivers now,’ people will step up and say, ‘We got you.’”

Jason summed it up perfectly: “This is a community fridge. It’s your fridge. It’s all of our fridge — to put food in or take food out. It takes a village.”

Our guest, Dr. Caroline Jurisich, joins Discover Lafayette to discuss her inspiring work with The Quad, a Lafayette-based program helping adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities continue learning, building independence, and forming meaningful social connections after leaving school.

Originally from North Louisiana, Caroline earned her bachelor’s degree in communications from LSU and initially worked in that field. But her career path changed after she began working with students who had emotional and behavioral challenges. She went on to earn her Master’s at UL Lafayette and taught in the Lafayette Parish School System before being recruited to help develop and teach in UL LIFE, an inclusive post-secondary education program for students with intellectual disabilities.

“When I started with UL LIFE in 2014, there were about 200 programs like it in the country,” she recalled. “Now, there are 364.” The program, which began as a small pilot with local students, has since expanded to 35 students from across the U.S. who live on campus, participate in university classes, and are fully integrated into campus life.

As the program grew, Caroline noticed a troubling pattern: “Once these students graduated, they secured employment, but there was still a gap in opportunities for continued learning and in maintaining the skills they’d developed.”

That realization led her to found The Quad in 2023.

Located in the Oil Center at 1021 E St Mary Blvd., Suite A, The Quad serves adults aged 18 to 62 who have completed high school or college-based programs and are seeking continued education, social engagement, and life skills training.

“I’m a big believer in building a strong foundation before branching out,” Caroline said. “We’re focused on what we call learning sessions—structured, engaging opportunities to develop practical skills without feeling like school.”

The Quad offers 26 sessions a week, each about real-world abilities:

Each session is small and tailored. “We want to make sure it’s meaningful for every individual,” she said. “Independence doesn’t necessarily mean doing it all by yourself—it means knowing when to ask for help, knowing your strengths, and building on both.”

The Quad also emphasizes community engagement. Members participate in service projects such as filling the Lafayette Community Fridge, supporting Second Harvest, and organizing toy drives. “We remind our members that to be an active, engaged part of your community, you also have to give back,” Caroline said.

Social isolation after leaving school is a major challenge for adults with disabilities. Caroline has seen firsthand how The Quad helps bridge that gap.

“There’s so much research on the impact of isolation—higher rates of depression and anxiety once individuals leave school,” she explained. “At The Quad, they have a space for connection, shared experiences, and casual practice of social skills.”

Each Friday, The Quad hosts Happy Hour—a relaxed afternoon where members gather for games, conversation, and community. “Some play air hockey, some just hang out. For many, weekends can be isolating, so this helps fill that gap with friendship and laughter.”

Members often form their own social groups. “We’ve had young men who didn’t know each other before The Quad but now meet regularly to play cards or go out to lunch together. That’s huge.”

Caroline insists on calling participants members, not clients. “They’re adults. This isn’t a sterile environment—it’s their space. Just like being a member of the Junior League or City Club, they belong here.”

The Quad currently serves just over 30 members but has capacity for three times that number within its 3,600-square-foot facility. “We’ve been intentional about growth,” she said. “After two years, we know what works and what doesn’t. Now we’re looking to expand services like occupational therapy, counseling, and business partnerships for employment training.”

The Quad is currently a private pay organization, but Caroline is working toward broader funding options. “We’d love to be a Medicaid provider. The process is complex, but we’re partnering with Louisiana Rehabilitation Services to support members focused on vocational skills.”

She noted that current federal and state funding systems often don’t fit modern models like The Quad. “We’re not an adult daycare. We’re supplemental to a well-rounded life that includes work and community involvement. But because we don’t fit old categories, our members can’t use certain funding. That’s something we’re working hard to change.”

The name The Quad is both personal and symbolic. “I kept drawing four boxes—body, mind, heart, spirit—when I was brainstorming about what to name this endeavor. My mom saw it and said, ‘What about The Quad?’ It just clicked.”

The name also nods to college life. “On every campus, the Quad is where people gather. I wanted our members to say, ‘I’m a member of The Quad,’ just like anyone else says they belong somewhere.”

Caroline envisions The Quad as a model for lifelong inclusion. “We want to grow thoughtfully—add more members, expand our services, and deepen our partnerships with local businesses,” she said. “It’s about helping people live their best, most connected, and independent lives.”

When asked about what she’s learned most through this journey, she smiled: “Patience. And the importance of admitting when something doesn’t work. It’s not failure if you learn from it.”

Outside of work, Caroline enjoys Lafayette’s festivals and community life with her two children. “Anything Lafayette offers—we’re there.”

To learn more about The Quad, visit thequadusa.com, call 337-999-QUAD (7823), email [email protected], or follow @thequadlouisiana on social media.

Caroline also welcomes collaborations with local businesses, organizations, and individuals who share her mission: “Even if you don’t know exactly how we could work together—reach out. We’ll find a way.”