By TONY TAGLAVORE

To start the new year, the Shreveport-Bossier Journal is publishing a series of stories this week on Shreveport’s new mayor, Tom Arceneaux. Today, the SBJ introduces you to the city’s new leader.

You can tell a lot about a fella by the music to which he listens.

Tom Arceneaux’s choice of satellite radio channels reflects a man with varied tastes, interests, and desires.

“Either Contemporary Christian, Country and Western, or Symphony,” Shreveport’s new mayor told the Shreveport-Bossier Journal shortly before he took office last week. He enjoys that music while tooling around town in a 2011 (that’s right — 2011) Toyota Avalon, which he bought from his mom.

And if you want to get more specific, you can narrow “Country and Western” to The Garth Brooks Channel. Arceneaux’s favorite Garth song, “The Dance,” describes parts of his life.

“I’ve had a lot of successes, and I’ve also had my share of failures.”

Martin Thomas Arceneaux’s latest success was being chosen by 56 percent of those who voted in last month’s mayoral runoff election. A white republican, the 71-year-old did something many thought he couldn’t do — defeat a black democrat and state senator — in a city where the majority of registered voters are African-American.

But the mayor was a late bloomer when it comes to loving Shreveport, which he has no shyness in admitting. The oldest of three children, Mayor Arceneaux wasn’t born here and didn’t grow up here. His father, Felix, was transferred to several cities during a 53-year career with New York Life.

Shreveport was an early (Tom attended kindergarten at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church) and late stop. His last two years of high school were spent at Captain Shreve, which opened in 1967.

“The new kid went to the new school,” the mayor said.

Mayor Arceneaux may not have been the Big Man on Campus, but he was popular — and busy.

Sports editor of the school newspaper, manager for the football team, writer and performer in skits for school pep rallies.

“My parents had a really long driveway, so we would paint banners for football games in their driveway,” he said. “Everybody would come to my house. My house was the center of a lot of activity with my friends. My parents did that so it would be easier for me to make friends. And I did. I made some great friends, and I am still very, very close to my friends from high school.”

But not all of the mayor’s time with friends centered around school. He fondly remembers their trips to the old Bayer’s Charcoal Grill.

“They had great hamburgers and couldn’t read ID’s … I was 17 and looked like I was 12,” he recalled. “They sold half-yards and yards of draft beer. I must admit, now that the statute of limitations is over for both parties, I occasionally had one.”

For much of his adult life, Mayor Arceneaux has been moved to be a difference-maker. That “movement” likely began his senior year at LSU. While a business major, the mayor wrote a weekly column for the school’s newspaper. (“Journalism would have been my second career choice.”)

“At that time, (the band) played the alma mater at halftime (of football games). If the other team brought their band, (LSU’s band) didn’t play the alma mater. I wrote about it. I said, ‘You know, if you play it before the game, you won’t have to cut it out.’ Since then, they’ve played the alma mater before the game.”

By 1976, after being “completely and totally burned out” while in graduate school, Arceneaux had a diploma from LSU Law School. He moved back to Shreveport and worked for two years as a clerk for Judge Tom Stagg. But the allure of being a lawyer for a big firm in a big city pulled the mayor to Houston.

He had “the life”—making good money and living in the prestigious area of Westheimer and Richmond.

“And I had the house note to prove it.”

But Mayor Arceneaux said he’s never been about the money. (Exhibit A — his 2011 Toyota.)

“I’ve always looked at quality of life and serving a purpose that was greater than me,” he said. “That really is what drives me. As a result, I didn’t see that I would be able to do that in that environment in Houston.”

So, despite having lived in Dallas, New Orleans, and Alexandria, Tom and wife Elizabeth — with a newborn daughter — chose to move back to Shreveport. This time, for good.

“I found it a very welcoming place, particularly for somebody who didn’t grow up here,” he said. “I found it easy to become involved in the community. That’s what I was looking for in life. I wanted to be in a place where I could have an impact in the community.”

Eight years as a city councilman, 13 years on the Board of Directors of the Highland Restoration Association, eight years singing in a worship band (“I wasn’t good enough to play guitar in the band, but I was good enough to sing”), an advocate for the enforcement of property standards.

The list goes on and on.

“The Lord gave me a toolbox of talents, and I’ve used them as I went along as the opportunities presented themselves,” said Arceneaux.

However, there was one tool missing — one that cost Arceneaux the chance to fulfill his “lifelong goal” of playing football for LSU.

“I was never very good. I was small, slow, and weak.”

Even so, between his junior and senior years at Captain Shreve, Arceneaux tried out for the Gators, led by legendary coach and Louisiana Sports Hall of Fame member Lee Hedges.

But those non-talents — and some encouragement — helped Arceneaux become the well-rounded person he is today.

“One afternoon after a particularly difficult practice, Coach Hedges sat me down,” recalled Arceneaux. “He said, ‘I don’t cut seniors, so you will have a place on the team. But … I don’t think you will get a chance to play very much.

“You have some other skills and talents that, if you develop those, they’re going to be more meaningful to you. But if you’re out here practicing football every day, you won’t be able to do those things … I think you ought to think about that.’”

Message received, one which — delivered well more than 50 years ago — still resonates.

“He was so respectful and treated me with such dignity … I got to do a bunch of stuff that I never could have done if I had played football,” said Arceneaux. “But he didn’t tell me I was a terrible football player. He didn’t tell me I was no good. He told me I was good and I was worth something.”

Worth being the mayor of Louisiana’s third-largest city.

Now that’s a dance Arceneaux would not have wanted to miss.

Contact Tony at SBJTonyT@gmail.com

Tomorrow, the SBJ will focus on if the mayor can solve Shreveport’s problems. 

---