My dad's passing

My Dad's Obituary:

Funeral services will be held at 11:00 am on Tuesday, May 6, 2008 in the Delhomme Chapel of the Flowers for Henry Gabriel Vautrot, Jr., 67, who passed away on Friday, May 2, 2008 after a courageous four-year battle with cancer, at his son’s residence in Youngsville.

Reverend Mike Walker, Pastor of East Bayou Baptist Church, will conduct the funeral services. Interment will take place in Lafayette Protestant Cemetery.

Mr. Vautrot, a native of Church Point, was the son of the late Henry Gabriel Vautrot, Sr. of Acadia Parish and the former Dorothy Matthews of Lafayette. Henry was an honor graduate of Church Point High School and earned a Master’s Degree from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. He taught history in the Lafayette Parish Public School System for thirty-eight years and nineteen summer schools. He was the recipient of several teaching awards, including twice a finalist for Lafayette Education Foundation Award. He was a life member of the National Rifle Association, an avid antique gun collector, and organized Lafayette’s first Gun Show in 1968. He was also a member of Hope Lodge Free and Accepted Masons since 1961.

He had been a commercial fisherman since 1956; being one of the shrinking numbers of fishermen who had the skill to hand knit his nets. With the help of his three sons and one daughter, he landed many tons of commercial fish in the last fifty-two years.

Survivors include his wife, Barbara Johnson Vautrot; his two sons, Philippe Vautrot of Lafayette and Victor Vautrot, M.D. of Boston, Massachusetts Harvard School of Medicine; his daughter, Tara Vautrot Gondron; his granddaughter, River Gondron; and his devoted cousin, R. Matthews Bourque, all of Lafayette.

He was preceded in death by his parents; his son, H. G. Vautrot, III; and his beloved uncle, Robert Matthews. Pallbearers are David Guidry, Jude Vautrot, Scott Arceneaux, Louis Turner, Jamie McBride, Mike Leger, and Greg Harmon. Honorary pallbearers are Robert McBride, Sr. and James “Spoky” Montgomery. The family requests that visiting hours be observed on Monday from 11:00 am until 9:00 pm and continue on Tuesday from 8:00 am until the time of service. The family would like to extend a special thank you to Drs. Gene Brierre, Stanley Hoover, and Lawrence Russell. They would also like to thank James “Spoky” Montgomery for all of his care and concern, and special gratitude to the staff of Hospice of Acadiana. In lieu of flowers memorial contributions can be made in the name of Henry Vautrot, Jr. to the American Cancer Society, 1604 West Pinhook Road, Lafayette, Louisiana 70508 or Hospice of Acadiana, 2600 Johnston Street, Suite 200, Lafayette, Louisiana 70503. Personal condolences may be sent to the Vautrot family at www.delhommefuneralhome.com Delhomme Funeral Home, 1011 Bertrand Drive, is in charge of all funeral arrangements.


My Letter to Dad in the Guest Book section of his online obituary:

Dear dad, I simply wanted to write and express a few thoughts, memories, and feelings. Firstly, I am so thankful for the way that you raised your three sons (Gabe, Philippe and me) and daughter, Tara. You were always so supportive of anything that we wished to do with our lives; you were never one to judge or pass criticism. Moreover, you never demeaned us or used foul language; you were always very respectful and kind. You never, ever raised a hand against us, either. You introduced us to hunting ducks, rabbits, woodcock, snipe, geese, etc in Mallard Bay, in Cameron Parish, all at very young ages. We went to The Camp out there every Friday after you came back from teaching at Northside High School. I could not wait for 2:15pm to come around, as I knew you would be driving down the driveway very soon, so that I could help guide you as you backed-up your big truck towards the trailer on your large, 22 foot custom-built aluminum boat. Then, we would start loading the shotguns, hoop nets, coveralls, slicker suits, ice, food, and hunting dogs all inside the back of the truck and into the boat. Then, we'd wait for our friends to come by in case they wanted to ride with us out there to Mallard Bay. This was the way Fridays were for about 20 years, till I left for medical school in 2001 when I was 25 years-old.

Sunday mornings were characterized by fishing in the Vermillion River. You climbing up the stairs at 5:10am throughout both my high school (1991-1995) and college years (1995-2000) to wake me up to get ready for "running the nets." I'd walk out to your truck, still dark outside, you'd have it running and ready to go, sitting in there listening to either Rush Limbaugh, National Public Radio, or some old music from the 1950's and 1960's when you were a young man. Then, we'd pull out and drive to The Landing, the boat dock near the Lafayette Public Airport, arriving there around 6am. I'd back out the boat, off your trailer, and you'd go park. In the meantime, you would drive us to our first set of hoop nets, which was not too far from the landing, and I would be packing the bait bags with either pogeys or with soybean chips. I would then come to the front of the boat, toss your big 3-pronged metal hook over board, and feel around the bottom of the river for the nets that you had hidden down there beneath the murky waters.

Once I felt the spring in the rope, I'd inform you that I found one of your nets, and we'd both pull the rope to land the net on the side of the boat. We'd slowly pull it up, and could already fill the fish struggling inside the nets, bouncing off its walls, shaking it in our grips. We'd pull the net up slowly, the fish would fall back into the very back well, and splash our faces and slicker suits with mud, dead fish parts, rotten snake parts and old bait. The crabs would be hanging-on for dear life, their claws firmly implanted and entangled in the webbing. Sometimes, the large Opelousas catfish ("mud cat," "flat head" catfish) would be thrashing about like some shark, his huge tail batting smaller Channel cat around the net like baseballs. What a site. We'd raise your nets from 6 am till about noon; you'd sip on your iced tea throughout. It was hot, and the work was not easy. But it was good, and we had good friends to help us along the way. You'd stop and talk to several people that lived on the Vermillion River, and offer them a fresh fish, and they'd watch your nets for you, too, in order to be sure no one stole or damaged them. This was our Sunday, for years and years. After we caught between 500-2000 pounds of catfish, buffalo, goo, you'd go to Catfish Wholesale to sell them.

I know that you were a terrific teacher; people have told me that all my life, and I am reading about it here, too. I never had you as my high school teacher, but you certainly taught me a lot of history when I was with you at home, in the truck, at the Camp, sitting in a restaurant, etc. Your passion for teaching is something that I carry with me, too. I am using your skills for teaching with my own students: my medical students from both Boston University School of Medicine and Harvard School of Medicine up here in Boston, Massachusetts. I hope to be able to inspire and educate as well as you had done for nearly 40 years...to help young people love to learn and grow-up appreciating knowledge and loving life.

I have no doubt that you are up there in Heaven, have found some marsh or river, and you are already looking for a new place to set-up a hunting blind for the ducks and geese, and that you are already going down some river, looking for a place beneath an old Willow or Oak tree to set some hoop nets. You're going to live up there in Heaven just as you did down here on Earth. Hunting and Fishing till the very end. Be sure to observe whatever hunting limits and fishing quotas that God has set-up, dad. Who knows what type of game wardens he has up there. I promise to always come and visit you at the cemetery each time I am back home in Louisiana, and update you on the most recent politics and family events. You have no idea how much I am going to miss you....

Love, your son,
Victor Johnson Vautrot, M.D.
Harvard School of Medicine