THE SINCLAIR CASE

Chapter Six: The "Fuzzy" Football Era

In 2014, prominent Baton Rouge Morning Advocate columnist Smiley Anders described Istrouma as it was in the glorious 1950s when Bodden and his “million friends” attended the school.

“The Great Depression and World War II had put college out of reach for many parents and some hadn’t been able to finish high school. So Istrouma was more than just a high school for 1,200 North Baton Rouge residents; it was the embodiment of the dreams of blue-collar residents north of Choctaw, the guys in hard hats who rode bikes to the plants along Scenic Highway, and the housewives who looked after modest homes and kept the kids quiet when their husbands were working the dog shift.”

Those were the parents of Billy Cannon and J.C. Bodden—the kind of parents who migrated from hard-scrabble lives in Mississippi to find work in Baton Rouge’s chemical plants. They were strict, hard-disciplined folks—and they expected the same from the teachers and coaches at Istrouma where they sent their racially pure white “boys and girls.”

Bodden was well-liked at the school. Cannon, on the other hand, was a different duck. Despite the glory he achieved on the football field, Cannon was always drawn to trouble, like the times he and his buddies would “slap queers around for fun.” He often cut classes or engaged in juvenile vandalism. He once slammed a tray on the school serving line after cafeteria workers refused to give him a second serving, splashing spaghetti and meat sauce on the workers. He was “paddled” for these kinds of infractions or forced to sit out a game.

I don’t know what kind of student Bodden was intellectually (a state police narcotics detective once said to me, “J.C. didn’t have a whole lot between the ears”), but there must have been something about him that made so many friends wage revenge battles for him after his death.

Student veterans of that era say the teachers and coaches at Istrouma were no-nonsense people. While they punished their misbehaviors, they were also highly protective of them as well, like secondary parents. They were blue-collar people who carved out their careers the hard way: work, discipline, and perseverance. They expected no less from their students, even rabble-rousers like Billy Cannon.

In 2004, Carroll DiBenedetto, who was the school’s class president in 1955, had this to say to a reunion class of that year:

“I’m sure all of you ole Indians feel as I do, having had the opportunity to attend Istrouma High School. We were truly blessed to live in a wonderful era and to have had the outstanding guidance of the Istrouma faculty and staff to help mold us. This was vividly brought to my attention recently as I attended the January 18, 2004 ceremony when Coach ‘Tommy’ McCoin and Coach Hurshel ‘Jug’ Meares were inducted into the Louisiana High School Athletic Association/Louisiana High School Coaches Association Hall of Fame. As I browsed through the program, I noted that no less than six Istrouma people are now members of that august body. Four of these coaches/administrators were also Istrouma athletes. I thought to myself: ‘Did we have great role models or what?’ I also thought that if there was a teachers ‘Hall of Fame,’ our teachers would be prominently listed there.”

Seven decades before DiBenedetto mused about that “wonderful era,” two brothers, Ellis “Little Fuzzy” Brown and his twin brother James “Big Fuzzy” Brown, joined the faculty of Istrouma High School. The brothers created the school’s legendary football program. They were two of the “six Istrouma people” DiBenedetto referred as being inducted into the Louisiana Coaches Hall of Fame.

The two coaches became “living legends” in Louisiana high school football, easily making it into the hall of fame. Little Fuzzy coached the Istrouma Indians to their first state football championship in 1938 and went on to become the school’s principal while Big Fuzzy won 8 state championships during his illustrious 17-year coaching career at the school before retiring in 1967.

While Big Fuzzy took Istrouma to the greatest heights of high school football glory, Little Fuzzy ran the school as its principal with an iron fist while often using his position to help someone from Mississippi get a job in one of Baton Rouge’s chemical plants, particularly if the person had an athletically-gifted son.

Little Fuzzy also sought out the best teachers for Istrouma, including an Istrouma/LSU graduate named Sadie Ferguson who became J.C. Bodden’s wife. She amassed a legion of students who, after their graduation, gravitated to prominent positions of power and influence in Baton Rouge. They were introduced to “the Sinclair case” through her, especially those who watched her teach in “mourning black” for years after J.C.’s death.

But it was Big Fuzzy who undeniably made Istrouma the most famous high school in Louisiana in the 1950s with its long running football dynasty—arguably the most celebrated in Louisiana high school history. Between 1938 and 1962, the Brown brothers delivered 9 state championships to the Istrouma Indians—a team that never won a state championship under any other coach in its history.

J.C. Bodden was part of that football glory era which is why the Brown brothers were pallbearers at his funeral.

During the Bodden championship years, Clyde H. Lindsey was the team’s defensive coach. Bodden was one of his favorite players.

By 1965, Lindsey had become Superintendent of Education in East Baton Rouge Parish. Sadie had become one of Lindsey’s favorite “teachers”—not to mention that the Boddens were close personal friends with the superintendent.

Against this personal relationship backdrop with Lindsey, it was easy for Sadie to get the superintendent involved with the Istrouma network’s political opposition in “the Sinclair case.” Lindsey not only wrote letters expressing opposition to my release efforts but made calls to state and prison officials urging them to make sure I never got out of prison.