Rest in Peace, Sweet Camelot

Frenchy Salan, was from Marseille, France; and had been sent to America, to avoid any chance of him being arrested for his family’s activities and connection to the OAS, (Secret Armed Organisation), particularly Frenchy’s grandfather who was high up in the OAS, an armed French group, mostly made up of former French military, who were violently opposed to France allowing Algeria to become, run, and rule their own country. The breakup would force thousands of French to relocate back to France proper, most of them did not want that, especially Frenchy’s family, who had a lucrative shipping business in Marseille, that depended on its business with the Algerian French population.

Frenchy grew up and went to work on the Marseille docks as soon as he turned 15. He was tall, 6’2”, and weighed about 230 pounds, muscular and very strong. Frenchy did have a problem with alcohol and ended up in fights with people for the silliest reasons, usually anything to do with politics. He hated the de Gaulle run government of France and was bitter over the deaths of people, like, Jean Bastien-Thiry, the master mind of the botched Charles de Gaulle assassination attempt on August 22, 1962.

He blamed John F. Kennedy for making no attempt to save Thiry’s life. Most fist fights came because guys in bars couldn’t care less about something so far away, and in Boston, you better not say anything bad about the Kennedy’s. He just hated Kennedy and could not understand how a nice French girl, like Jacqueline Bouvier, would ever marry a man like that.

Frenchy, also, liked men and was perplexed by American’s negative mindset toward homosexuality, saying it was wrong and a sin. He openly rejected those opposed to his life style and took as many trophies as he could. One of those trophies was Dave Pierce, they met at a bar in Dorchester, and got talking and hit it off; Frenchy took Dave to his apartment and they hit it off better, all night long. After a few weeks, Dave was spending more time at Frenchy’s apartment than he had ever spent with anyone else. They enjoyed each other’s company and Dave felt like he was falling in love, though he wasn’t sure yet what feelings Frenchy had about the relationship. Frenchy was moody and Dave was one of those stubborn type people, who tried to understand why Frenchy was so pugnacious. Was it growing up tough with the French longshoremen or did his father beat him when he was little, did his mother feed him wine instead of milk? What caused him to be so quick to temper and to hate so easily? These sorts of things bugged Dave and he wanted to help if he could. Maybe the trip to Louisiana and Frenchy’s friends there would take the edge off, and the maneuvers in the Bayou swamps, outside of New Orleans, soften him up a little. Dave said yes, the minute Frenchy asked if he wanted to go with him, thinking back to some of the porn he had watched endlessly.

Frenchy spoke English really well and he said his tante Lucy, taught him. She had been educated at Emerson Collage, in Boston, and held degrees in Political Science and Journalism. Also, Lucy was going to meet them at the airport and provide transportation for as long as they were there. Knowing this, calmed any doubts Dave may have had about going to New Orleans, figuring that an older woman might soften Frenchy a little, especially his own aunt.

Frenchy picked up their airline tickets and headed to his apartment, he stopped only at the bank to cash his pay check and for once, did not stop at a bar. He needed a clear head to travel tomorrow, and the next few days and weeks were important to him and others. He ate a small can of B&M beans, some hot dogs, set his alarm and went to sleep.