Sabine State Bank & Trust Company, a commercial bank headquartered in Many, LA with more than $1.2 billion in assets. The combined entity is expected to provide access to a broad variety of lending products to all communities served by TDECU and will expand TDECU’s presence in lending to small business owners in oil and gas, agriculture, and energy.

At closing, the combined institution will be expected to have approximately $6 billion in assets and 471,000 Members. The acquisition will expand the field of membership for TDECU, which has a significant presence in Greater Houston, and a growing presence in the Dallas, Fort Worth and Victoria areas.

“TDECU is on a growth journey to expand across the state of Texas and beyond,” said President & CEO Isaac Johnson. “Our mission is helping people navigate their financial journeys, and be financial solvers for our Members’ everyday needs. This acquisition extends our reach to more communities, diversifies our commercial portfolio, and makes our balance sheet even stronger. If our balance sheet is stronger that will enable TDECU to continue to deliver and do more for our existing Members. Together, we will strengthen ties with our membership, partners, and local communities”

A strong performing commercial bank

Founded more than 120 years ago, Sabine has a footprint of 51 branches across Louisiana and east Texas. It specializes in commercial loans with industry concentration in oil and gas, forestry, timber and agriculture, and has many long-standing depository relationships.

“We are excited to become a part of the TDECU family and we share their commitment to strengthening our communities and empowering our customers to build better financial futures,” said Lee H. McCann, President and CEO of Sabine. “Our customers can rest assured that they will continue to experience the best-in-class service they count on from us. Best of all, that service will be enhanced with an even wider array of financial products to help them better secure their futures.”

Strengthening the credit union movement

TDECU has a healthy balance sheet that is focused on consumer deposits and lower-risk investment strategies. Sabine’s strong commercial operations will further diversify the credit union’s loan concentration and support TDECU’s overall growth strategy, bolstering stability and resiliency to provide compelling service offerings to its Members during economic and market fluctuations. The transaction is anticipated to be completed early 2025, subject to receiving all required regulatory and shareholder approvals and satisfying all other closing conditions. TDECU members and Sabine customers should continue to conduct their business as usual until the closing.

Thinking out loud while wondering whatever happened to Arsenio Hall . . . .

Surely there isn’t someone sitting in those Police/Sheriff cars parked at the beginning and end of the I-20 construction zone 24/7, is there? . . . .

Speaking of I-20 construction, how many times do you see 18-wheelers passing through the construction zone, when there are signs before the zone clearly warning drivers that their big rigs are prohibited? I see them all the time, and that’s when I wish my inner Gomer would take over. “Citizens Ah-REST! Citizens Ah-REST!” . . . .

My fiancée’ and I recently went to see a movie. 98 percent of the seats were empty. Of course, a couple had to sit next to us. And the guy took off his flip-flops, put his feet on the reclining seat, and curled up in a ball. When I go to the theatre, I want to eat buttered popcorn and watch a movie. I don’t want to see someone’s feet . . . .

Speaking of movies, there must have been 15 previews that night. Only two were of movies we would possibly be interested in seeing. These days, if you’re not into animation, or the weird, you’re out of luck . . . .

I went into a cake store and said I would like a large Red Velvet cake. The young lady asked me if I wanted the eight-inch or the 10-inch size. What part of “I would like a large” cake did she not understand? . . . .

Check out Caroline Castora, the weekend evening meteorologist at KTBS-TV (Channel 3). She is excellent. Hard to believe this is her first full-time job out of college. She will make it big one day. Count on it . . . .

If you’re driving at the speed limit or slower, PLEASE use the right lane. The left lane is for passing. AAARRRGGGHHH! . . . .

As you may have read, for my 60^th birthday, my fiancée took me to a Masters practice round at Augusta National. It was probably a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Does that mean I have to give her a present of equal value? . . . .

I appreciate Curtis Jackson (you know him as rapper 50 Cent) wanting to make a difference in Shreveport. But forget about bringing film and TV production to town. If he really wants to make a difference, how about paying a private company to fix the potholes? Now, that’s something from which everyone would benefit . . . .

Six-and-a-half years ago, I had retinal detachment surgery on my left eye. A few weeks ago, the retina tore in my right eye. To try and avoid surgery, the doc fired 671 laser “hits” to repair the tear. If the police ever want to “persuade” someone to confess to a crime, they should call my doctor . . . .

Soon, car washes will be like Mexican food restaurants – one on every corner . . . .

This year’s college football season is going to be epic. So many games featuring brand names versus brand names (LSU vs. Oklahoma, Texas vs. Michigan, Alabama vs. Wisconsin). Can’t wait! . . . .

Why not leave well enough alone? The Weather Channel’s app was great. Now, it’s not . . . .

I still haven’t heard a good reason as to why Tom Brady subjected himself to being roasted to a crisp on Netflix. The seven-time Super Bowl winning quarterback doesn’t need a dime, but no payday was worth that public humiliation . . . .

I-49, between 3132 and I-20, should be renamed “I-49 Speedway”. Cars blow past me all the time going at least 80 miles per hour. I am convinced I will die in a car accident, and it won’t be my fault . . .

As I write this, I am about to go on a trip where I will be staying in a house with 13 other people – six of them under the age of six –  for a week.  I am an only child. Pray for me . . . .

It’s pretty cool that country music singer Jordan Davis, who has the hit single Tucson Too Late, is from Shreveport and went to went to C.E. Byrd High School . . . .

Speaking of country music singers, I’m a Luke Bryan fan, but am starting to think he’s run his course. Bryant’s songs pretty much sound the same. And now, when I hear a singer named “Luke,” it may be Luke Combs . . . .

From time to time, people post on my subdivision’s Facebook page that they are looking for a babysitter. Do parents really leave their child in the hands of someone they don’t know? . . . .

A guy recently did some work for me. He said he grew up watching me on TV. Afterwards, he sent me a follow-up text. “Thank you for your business, Ed.” . . . .

I miss my mom.

Contact Tony (not Ed) at SBJTonyT@gmail.com.

It’s World War II’s Day on the second Tuesday of every month at the Bossier Parish Library’s superb History Center. The popular program examines a different aspect of the Second World War, often from a local angle. Past programs have examined such varied topics as Natchitoches’ General Stephen Henry, the Aleutian Islands in Alaska occupied by the Japanese in WWII and the Eighth Air Force in Europe.

In keeping with the month of May being Jewish American Heritage Month, this month’s presentation was given by Ms. Barbara Joseph, Executive Director of the North Louisiana Jewish Federation.

Ms. Joseph spoke about the documentary movie “Four Winters”, a film that tells the story of Jewish partisan fighters in Eastern Europe. These were men and women, many of whom were teenagers, who escaped from the Nazis, often by jumping from moving trains and evading the guards’ gunfire. They escaped into the woods where they joined with other partisans and fought the Nazis. The movie tells their story using interviews of a few of the estimated 25,000 partisans from the war who are still alive today. It is an incredible story of resiliency, courage, and determination. The title of the movie refers to one of the interviewed former partisans speaking of the four winters she spent fighting in the forests of Eastern Europe.

The World War II’s Day programs are held on the second Tuesday of every month at 10:30 at the Bossier History Center in the old Bossier Library at 2206 Beckett Street Bossier City.

Each week, the Shreveport-Bossier Journal’s Tony Taglavore takes to lunch a local person — someone well-known, successful, and/or influential, and asks, “What’s Your Story?”

By TONY TAGLAVORE, Journal Services

“It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until he has hurt him deeply.”-A.W. Tozer

Every Sunday morning at 10:30, there he was. The infallible-looking pastor. Playing piano. Standing at the pulpit. Preaching the word of God.

Smiling ear-to-ear. Voice booming. Confident. Seemingly not a worry in the world.

The other six days of the week?

“I was going to the cemetery Monday through Sunday, drinking at my parents and my brother’s grave, just living consumed with grief. One day, I left the cemetery because I would go there to drink, then I would get in my car and go home. My house was about two miles from the cemetery. I was one house away from my house, when all of the sudden, lights came on behind me. It was a police officer. I was arrested and taken to Bossier Max with a DUI.”

Carlton Gilmer, the son of a construction foreman and a stay-at-home mom, who was raised in the church, had become what he calls a “closet alcoholic.”

“My wife didn’t know anything about it because I was (drinking) at the cemetery while she was working. By the time she would come home, I was sober enough to pull the wool over her eyes. She didn’t know until she got the call that I had been arrested.”

Carlton didn’t get treatment.

“I was convinced I could help myself, and I couldn’t. I did for a while, but when the next round of tragedy came, I returned to what I had learned. I didn’t want to cope. I didn’t want to think.”

The “next round of tragedy” led to another run-in with the law two years later.

“The last time I left the cemetery, there was a Bossier Sheriff’s officer on the side of the road. I don’t remember anything about that. That’s how inebriated I was. I didn’t know anything until I woke up and was facing that brick wall I faced two years prior. When I saw that wall, I immediately knew where I was. My picture came out in the Inquisitor.”

The 61-year-old Senior Pastor of Bossier Life Church told me this story, and his story, during lunch at a place of his choice, Jacquelyn’s Cafe in Shreveport. Carlton enjoyed a large chicken salad and a glass of unsweet tea. I made short work of a small shrimp salad and a glass of water.

“I went through an unfortunate divorce (from his first wife) 20 years ago. It was very painful. It wrecked what I thought was the picture of ministry was all about, because ministers don’t divorce. But, I walked through it. I thought I would regain life and just move on, and life would be happy. But, life presented a lot of challenges for me.”

Challenges? More like heart-wrenching, blood-curling events. In six years time, Carlton lost his father, mother, and newborn grandchild, who died at Carlton’s house following complications from birth.

Carlton also lost his brother.

(He) called and asked if I could take him to his cardiologist. I told him I was too busy. Could he find someone else? He drove himself, had a heart attack enroute, went into on-coming traffic, and an 18-wheeler hit him and killed him. As you can imagine, I blamed myself for my brother’s death. If only I would have taken him, maybe he would be here.”

Despite leading a congregation of people who loved him, Carlton felt alone. He began living a private life. But, after each arrest, Carlton’s church family continued believing in him. He wanted to quit the ministry. His followers wouldn’t let him.

“They got up and stood behind me. They said, “Pastor, you’re not done. You’re going to get help, and we’re going to be here until you can come back and be our pastor.”

Carlton returned, after six days of “intense therapy” at a counseling and therapy center in Ohio for ministers.

“The counselors took me all through my life and found places where I was weak.”

In 2018, Carlton found sobriety — and something else.

“All the years I served in churches, I knew the God of my parents. I knew the God of the ministers and pastors I had served. I knew the God of my friends and colleagues. But, six years ago, I really found the God of Carlton Gilmer.”

From when he was just three years old, Carlton’s entire life has been centered around God — and God’s music.

“My mother was (singing) in the choir. Church ended, she went to take off her choir robe, and I walked up and sat down at the piano. I began to play what we sang for the last hymn. That was on a Sunday. Monday, my dad bought me a piano, and it began.”

“It” was Carlton’s career. By the time he was 10, the Bossier City-born youngster was a hired hand.

“First Christian Church in Bossier, a little bitty church, needed an organist. They hired me and paid me $10 a week to play their organ.”

Carlton’s father knew his son’s future was in his son’s hands — literally.

“He didn’t even want me mowing the yard. He didn’t want me to do anything to jeopardize my hands, because he knew that was my life.”

When Carlton graduated from Bossier High School, he wasn’t much interested in going to college. Carlton was all about music and ministry. “But my dad wouldn’t have it.” So, at his father’s insistence, Carlton auditioned for, was offered, and accepted, a fully-paid music scholarship to Centenary College.

A parent’s prayer answered.

Carlton left after 18 months.

“It just wasn’t what I wanted. As a little boy, I would stand in the back of my dad’s pickup truck, in the bed, and I would lay a Bible up on the front of the cab. I would preach to no one. Dad would park on the street, but that was my pulpit. My dream was that one day, I would preach the gospel.”

And he did. First, at small churches, before movin’ on up to the big time. For 17 years, Carlton was an Associate Pastor at “the Duron’s church”, First Assembly of God. As seen on TV. Thousands of members. Carlton was in the spotlight — until he wasn’t.”

Carlton left, and became pastor at a Haughton church for 11 years.

“I was looking for something kind of like what I grew up in. Maybe not big. Personable.”

The opposite of big? How about the inside of a Starbucks. That’s where, in 2012, Carlton, his wife of now 20 years (Terri), two of his daughters, and two “visitors” started Bossier Life Church. It’s grown to about 100 members, who meet inside leased space at Heart O’ Bossier Shopping Center.

“On Sunday mornings, like my pastor used to do when I was little, I’m either at the door, or out in the parking lot, welcoming people when they get out of their doors. I’ve tried to go back to the way things used to be.”

After more than an hour of soaking up Carlton’s story, I asked my final question. As always, what is it about his life story that could possibly help others?

“Failure is not final. The only way failure is final is if you allow it to be. My favorite scripture in all the Bible is Micah 7:8. ‘Don’t laugh at me O my enemies when I fall, for I shall arise.'”

It took more than three days, but Carlton has risen.

“Rock bottom is not a bad place to hit, because it’s a safety net. A net in itself you can fall through. When you’ve hit rock bottom, you’ve gone as far as you can go. The only way from there is up. God created the rocks, so if you hit the rocks, you’re on good ground. You’re on God ground.”

Do you know someone with a story? Email SBJTonyT@gmail.com.

Each week, the Shreveport-Bossier Journal’s always-hungry reporter visits a different restaurant, and tells you about the experience.

By TONY TAGLAVORE, Journal Sports

 John Lee and Bess Maxwell were storm chasers, before storm chasers were cool.

In the 1970’s, 80’s, and 90’s, when severe weather threatened our area, the merry men and women of KWKH-AM 1130 would get in the station’s “mobile units” and do the opposite of what experts still tell you not to do – drive into the teeth of a storm.

“I was out on Bert Kouns, on that overpass by where the big railyard is,” Lee remembered. “I was watching off to the southwest, and up came a big gust of wind and pelted the truck with pea gravel and blew out the rear window. So, I had to limp it back to the station and get another truck.”

Yes, Lee went right back out.

Back then, KWKH – which was the primary emergency broadcast station for Northwest Louisiana – was THE source for severe weather radio coverage. Nowadays, there isn’t a local radio station which interrupts programming, no matter the time of day or night, to provide continuous severe weather coverage.

“We were out there and could tell you what was going on,” Maxwell said. “No matter what kind of music you listened to, when the weather got bad, you (tuned to) KWKH. That’s what you did. It was just ingrained in everybody.”

Today, storm chasers hop in their tricked-out trucks – complete with weather radar and scientific instruments – and capture way-too-close video of a tornado roaming across a cattle field or barreling toward a residential subdivision.

Lee and Maxwell’s means of transportation weren’t as sophisticated.

“We had a yellow Ford Ranger pickup. A Ford Pinto wagon. An old four-wheel drive Scout. A Chevette,” Maxwell said.

And listeners had to accept Lee and Maxwell’s word for what was happening.

“We didn’t have any way to take video,” Maxwell said. “There were no cell phones back then. I wish there would have been. If we saw somebody who had seen something, we could jump out and interview them.”

While some people, perhaps most, would be scared out on the streets during severe weather, Lee and Maxwell experienced a different feeling.

“It was an adrenaline rush at times,” Lee said. “Over time, everybody on my staff was trained by the National Weather Service on how to spot severe weather. So, it made it not quite so scary when you went out, because you knew what you were looking for and you knew where to stay away from.”

“We would get out in the middle of the night,” Maxwell said. “It was so much fun. We loved it!”

But, both Maxwell and Lee emphasized having fun wasn’t their reason for chasing storms.

“It was a huge responsibility,” Lee said. “We were well-aware of that because we knew there would be an awful lot of people listening. We did a lot of things back then that tied into the weather. We had a storm spotter map that was distributed around town. If there was a storm, we could give it a plot on the map, and people who had the map could look at it and say, ‘Oh, the storm’s right there.’”

In fact, our area was so dependent on Lee, Maxwell, and their colleagues during severe weather, the National Weather Service (NWS) was their unofficial partner.

“When Ernie Ethridge was Chief Meteorologist at the NWS, he had one of our two-way radios right next to his radar screen,” Lee said. “So, if he saw something bad on radar, his booming voice would come in on the two-way.”

Out of all the storms Lee chased during his 19-year career as KWKH’s news director, one stands out.

“I vividly remember the ’78 Bossier tornado.”

 Just before 2am on December 3^rd, an EF-4 tornado with winds near 260 miles per hour, left an eight-mile-long path of death and devastation. Two people were killed, and 266 people were injured.

“I got off on Airline Drive. There was a motel on the right-hand side as you go north. There was a school bus wrapped around a utility pole in front of that hotel. The hotel had these big metal patio umbrellas around the swimming pool area. Those were gone . . . . Everywhere I went, there was destruction. It was just unbelievable. Where Pierre Bossier Mall is today used to be the Don Drive-In Theatre. It was leveled. There was nothing there.

Over time, local radio has changed. When bad weather approaches, there aren’t any John’s and Bess’ getting into their “mobile units”, to give listeners an eyewitness report.

“It does seem like a long time ago,” Lee, who retired from radio in 2014, said. “I miss the way radio was back in those days. Back then, it was a matter of if it happens, be there. If it makes a noise, record it, bring it back and put it on the air. It’s just not that immediate anymore.”

Maxwell, who is an administrative assistant at a local school, agreed there is a void when it comes to providing local severe weather coverage.

“I think it’s a shame, and something that’s missing in the community.”

Contact Tony at SBJTonyT@gmail.com.

As a friend and I approached Alex Box Stadium on the LSU campus, an attractive young woman at the gate greeted us with a smile and “How are y’all doing?” and a few of the others with her smiled and said “hello.”

Nothing like immediately feeling the love from this impressive ballpark that was built in 2009 to take the place of the original Alex Box Stadium that was the home of LSU baseball from 1938-2008.

And this was on a Sunday when the main message of the gospel read at Catholic churches across the globe was Jesus’ commandment to “love one another.” We arrived to that lovin’ feeling under a mostly sunny sky that we didn’t expect an hour or so earlier. That was when we were driving south through stormy rain, hoping the trip would not be in vain because of a rainout.

Nine years since retiring as a sportswriter, I invited my friend to join me on a bachelors’ day out, so to speak, while our wives and two other gals were on a powdery Florida beach not far from the Flora-Bama Lounge.

We trekked to Baton Rouge to check out the red-hot Tigers, who the night before had clinched their third straight Southeastern Conference series, beating top-ranked Texas A&M by two runs for the second straight time. Suddenly, a chance for the Tigers to qualify for the NCAA playoffs, which not long ago seemed virtually doomed, is now a possibility if LSU wins its final two SEC series against Alabama (away) and Ole Miss (home). There is hope that the defending national champions might rise from the ashes, if not quite like a phoenix, at least like a repentant sinner.

The press box in Alex Box isn’t like the one in massive Tiger Stadium across Nicholson Drive. It’s smaller, as you might guess, and there’s no grand buffet of food. There were hot dogs and nachos and popcorn, with water or soft drinks to wash it down. All self-serve. Which is fine, and, by the way, the dogs we had were good.

Incidentally, Alex Box, which is where LSU hosts Northwestern State for a non-conference game tonight, got its name from Simeon Alex Box, a football player and petroleum engineering major at LSU who died as a WWII hero in North Africa. A Quitman, Miss., native, he was laying minefields and preparing road blocks after Field Marshall Rommel’s all-out attack against American forces at Kasserine. On February 19, 1943, he was killed instantly with four other soldiers when a mine accidentally discharged.

Later that year, the LSU Board of Supervisors voted unanimously to name the school’s baseball stadium for Box. It was the first time in the school’s history that a structure was named in honor of someone highly esteemed for military service.

Along the same lines, a highlight of Sunday’s game, which deteriorated with a 9-run fifth inning by the Aggies, was the “Soldier Salute” before the top of the seventh inning. LSU led 3-0 though four innings, including a two-run homer by sophomore catcher Brady Neal, but the wheels came off in the fifth, and A&M went on to save face with a 14-4 thrashing of the Tigers.

Wouldn’t you know, to inject some love for the downcast home crowd came Leonard J. Drude. The public address announcer introduced to the crowd the white-haired 89-year-old retired Navy captain, who played baseball on this campus many moons ago. Standing by the home dugout, he waved and smiled and doffed his cap to the applause and cheers. A 1958 grad who majored in geology, Stroud served on the USS Intrepid during the Vietnam War. In 2019 he was inducted into the Hall of Fame for LSU Distinguished Military Alumni – an honor that also recognized his being instrumental in modernizing training of the U.S. Atlantic Fleet & Allied Forces.

Protests and hate have shrouded several college campuses around the country in recent weeks, but on this campus? Love reared its head from the 5th-inning ashes. A team that, as its coach would say afterwards, “ran out of bullets,” didn’t run out of class.

Every coach and every student on the 40-man LSU baseball roster walked in single file to shake Drude’s hand and thank him for his service to our country. And several thousand fans who remained from the paid attendance of 10,747 thanked him for his service with their cheers.

And more than one attendant, as we walked to the parking lot to leave, thanked us for coming with smiles and urged us to drive carefully.

It seems that message about loving one another, when lived out, has a way of making things right.