French Family Association

Mara French, P.O. Box 1109, Sutter Creek, CA 95685-1109. 209-267-0649
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Famous Frenches

Dr. Ronald French

Last updated by Mara French on 4/6/08. Send corrections or additions to Mara French.

 

Dr. Ronald French to reign as Rex, King of Mardi Graz in 2007 in New Orleans, by John Pope, The Times-Picayune

To hasten his recovery from surgery last year to repair a separated right shoulder, Dr. Ronald French added arm exercises to his morning walk through Audubon Park. During that daily five-mile constitutional, the husky ear, nose and throat specialist would repeatedly put his right arm in front of his torso and move it in a graceful lateral arc, as if he were executing a slow tennis backhand.

Last fall, French abruptly dropped that regimen, not because he was 100 percent healed but because, ever wise to the ways of Carnival-crazed Uptown gossips, he realized a passerby might conclude that he was rehearsing a particular monarch's trademark wave of the scepter.

From October on, that inference would have been on the mark. For October was the month when French, 68, was tapped to reign Tuesday as Rex, king of Carnival, and he wanted to be sure that he did nothing to divulge the secret, even if it might mean slowing his recovery.

The prospect of riding as Rex made him flash an even bigger-than-usual smile as he settled into a butterscotch-colored Barcelona chair in his Uptown home a few days before Fat Tuesday.

"What a thrill it is," he said. "It's sort of like buying the winning lottery ticket. That's a fantasy that sweeps through your mind from time to time, . . . but it's something you don't dwell on because that interferes with the progress of one's life."

Moments after he sat down, Josephine, a gray toy poodle named for Napoleon Bonaparte's wife, bounded into French's lap, mussing his master's Rex organization tie, a black four-in-hand tie with purple, green and gold stripes.

French views this year's festivities as part of the continuing area-wide recovery from Hurricane Katrina's devastation.

"I feel like this is a chance to tell the world that we have survived, we have come back, we're ready to return to being the greatest host city in the world.

"It's time to thank the world for all the help they've given us and are continuing to give us and to welcome everybody who had been to the city in the past year and will be here, because we're going to need them."

A Family Tradition

Although French over the years may have put aside thoughts of holding Carnival's top spot, he comes to the throne steeped in the annual tradition. His wife, Flora Fenner French, was Rex's queen in 1959, and her father, Darwin Fenner, was Rex in 1955 and the Rex organization's captain in 1960, when the krewe introduced Carnival doubloons, touching off a craze that has continued for nearly a half-century and has morphed into a focus for collectors.

"It rained when he paraded in 1955," Flora French said. "He had to come home and dry off the train, so one of my cousins and I sat on the floor with towels and mopped up the train so it would be dry for the Rex ball."

Fenner, who was captain slightly more than a decade, returned two familiar touches to the annual procession - the Boeuf Gras float near the front and His Majesty's Bandwagon at the rear. He also paid for float designer Blaine Kern's trip to Europe to study festival parades. One result of that was supersize fixtures that have become fixtures in other organizations' parades.

Fenner "juiced it up," said a Rex organization member who spoke on condition of traditional Carnival anonymity.

A portrait of Darwin Fenner occupies a commanding spot in the Frenches' house, which is festooned with Mardi Gras paraphernalia. In the dining room, a long table is flanked by two highly polished antique side tables: One has doubloons scattered over it; on the other, beads encircle two flower-filled silver urns.

The dining table is long because at supper each Monday it must accommodate the couple, their five sons, their wives and eight grandchildren. From one end to the other, the tabletop is strewn with crowns, coronets, plumes and jesters' caps.

Like other Rexes, French brings a strong rŽsumŽ of civic involvement to his day of glory. He is director of the Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana, and he has been president of the Bureau of Governmental Research, director of the Delgado Community College Foundation and the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra, a member of the executive committees of Touro Infirmary and East Jefferson General Hospital, a member of the New Orleans Museum of Art's advisory board and the Louisiana State Racing Commission, and chairman of the Chamber of Commerce's medical-industry council.

"He's intense, he's informed, and he's involved," said Denis McDonald, a former Rex and longtime friend. "He's a Renaissance man. Everything he gets involved in, he studies thoroughly."

French also is a former president of the Louisiana Nature Center board. Bob Thomas, the executive director at the time, was impressed by what French did during the debate over building an amphitheater.

"At one point, someone said that was outside the budget," Thomas said. "Ronnie cleared his throat and said, 'We've got to do it. We'll just add that to the cost,' and we did it. It was named after him.

"For him to say, 'We're going to do it because it's the right thing to do,' is so characteristic."

French, a native of New Iberia, claims as an ancestor a French surgeon who journeyed to America with a patient, Jean Baptiste Le Moyne, sieur de Bienville, when Bienville founded New Orleans in 1718.

French grew up in Houston but returned to New Orleans to attend Tulane University and never left. After three years of college, he was admitted to medical school.

During his undergraduate years, he met and fell in love with Flora Fenner, who happened to be born on the same August day in 1938. They married in 1960. The first Carnival ball French attended was Rex's in 1959, when she was queen.

"He had a blind date with my best friend," Flora Fenner French said, laughing, "and she's coming back for this one."

During French's Charity Hospital residency, he saw plenty of people struggling for breath, and he was determined to do something about it. So he devised a key-size aluminum-and-steel cylinder that doctors use to perform on-the-spot tracheotomies to open blocked windpipes.

When no one expressed interest in his prototype, French threw it into a desk drawer, where it languished for more than two decades until his son saw it and made an appointment for his father with a patent lawyer.

In two years, the device, called LifeStat, received a patent and Food and Drug Administration approval. Tens of thousands have been sold - the Pentagon snapped up the backlog when the war in Iraq broke out - and it was included in a 2005 exhibit of lifesaving devices at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

LifeStat is still a steady seller. The Frenches process the orders themselves and tout it at medical meetings. Another device may be in the works, but French is cagey enough not to want to say anything about it until he gets the patent.

Many Passions

French is humble about his success.

"Every doctor is a tinkerer," he said. "He has ideas that he'd like to do something with."

Whatever French tries, he gets excited about, said Thomas, who holds the Loyola chair in environmental communications at Loyola University.

When he and French were in Alaska several years ago, French was plowing through a paperback version of "Alaska," James Michener's doorstopper of a book about the 49th state. French urged Thomas to read it, and Thomas said he would - as soon as he bought a copy.

At that point, "he ripped the book in half and said, 'You'd better get started now,' " Thomas said. "I've seen him do that many times. I've seen him walking around with a book that's been torn in half, and I know what's happened."

Other passions have included running, tennis and windsurfing, all of which he has been forced to give up because of injuries.

But his latest accident had nothing to do with athletics: He broke his scepter-wielding arm when he fell into a pothole near his home.

The cast came off Wednesday. Because his arm still may be tender, John Weinmann, a former Rex, passed on this bit of advice: Get a light scepter for the parade.

"My recollection was that it was wood," said Weinmann, who reigned in 1996. "By the time I got to Jackson Avenue, that little short stick started to weigh about a ton, and it was simply because I was waving it. He ought to wave with his left hand, or not use a scepter at all." Flora French wants him to smile and wave. "It's fun and festive," she said, "but my mother used to say, in a way, it's just a little bit of foolishness."

John Pope can be reached at jpope@timespicayune.com or at (504) 826-3317.

Ancestry

Dr. Ronald French, a physician from New Iberia, LA, b. Aug 1935, m. Flora Fenner in 1960.