Colleen Salley
New Orleans children’s author, professor emeritus and notable Carnival Character Colleen Salley passed away yesterday, after a battle with Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease (CJD). She was of some age I am certain the Times-Picayune obituary writer will publish, but she was always such a southern lady I would never so much as venture a guess in public writing.
She was many things to many people. To a generation of her students at the University of New Orleans, she was first a teacher. To a generation of children (and not just the children of New Orleans) she was a story-teller and character in books of her own as well as books by her former pupils. And to those of us who treasure the Odd marching groups of Carnival, she was Queen Colleen, pushed through the French Quarter in a shopping cart with a supply of dry sherry, her adoring subjects making frequent stops to prostrate themselves before her.
To me she was also the mother of my friend George, his brother David and sister Genevieve. They lived just a couple of streets down in Lake Vista, in the upper of a duplex at the circle on Crane Street. One of the big disappointments I had when living in Fargo, N.D. was to learn after she had come and gone she visited my children’s school, and I regret not having the opportunity to see her there and offer some proper New Orleans hospitality. The second to last time I saw her was when she came to the funeral of my brother, who was close to her youngest son. Thankfully the last time we met was Mardi Gras 2008 when she was still in her Carnival glory.
She was an amazing lady, and I will perhaps write about this some more on Toulouse Street after I have fully digested the news.
The funeral will be Saturday, September 27th, at 10:30 a.m. at St. Jude’s on Rampant. While the formal announcment has not been made, I don’t think I’m reaching to suggest that if you knew her or enjoyed her books or story telling, a gift to the Colleen Salley - Bill Morris Literacy Foundation would certainly be considered a fine memorial.
Tonight in possum heaven Everette Maddox will have good company. Drink will be taken and stories will be told as only Colleen can, and the lambs at Jesus’ feet will be jealous not to be there.
September 17th, 2008 at 11:37 am
[...] Possum Heaven September 17, 2008 Posted by Wet Bank Guy in Toulouse Street. Tags: children’s literature, Colleen Salley, Epossumondus, New Orleans, possums, Queen Colleen, story telling trackback Colleen Salley has passed away. [...]
September 17th, 2008 at 12:50 pm
Colleen took me under her wing when I was a young children’s librarian for the New Orleans Public Library. I always knew if I need a little encouragement, I could call Colleen and get an excited “Hey Dawlin’! Her knowledge of children’s literature was unmatched and she taught hundreds (maybe thousands) of librarians and teachers while she was at UNO.
Colleen was the grand dame of New Orleans storytellers. Anyone who ever saw one of her performances was immediately memorized. She’d start with Shel Silverstein’s “Boa Constrictor,” (”I’m being eaten by a boa constrictor), which concludes with “Oh heck, it’s up to my neck. Oh dread, it’s upmymfffff… The kids and parents would be rolling in the aisles.”
New Orleans will miss this great lady.
September 17th, 2008 at 3:34 pm
From the book tent at Jazz Fest to the idle conversations on Magazine St. she leaves a hole in the city’s fabric behind her.
Another joyous and intelligent voice silenced. Children and adults throughout the NOLA have suffered a tremendous loss.
The Former employees of the Children’s Hour Bookstore salute our lost compatriot.
September 17th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
[...] Rest in peace, Queen Colleen. [...]
September 17th, 2008 at 6:50 pm
Ruthie the duck girl. Queen Colleen. Not to mention various friends and family. We’re dropping like flies.
If I wasn’t such a cheery optimistic bastard, I might be depressed.
I don’t think I ever had the pleasure of hearing her tell stories. Then again, I do remember a quite riveting telling of “Boa Constrictor” at a NOLA public library years ago. May or may not actually have been her, but I’m approaching the age where I can remember it how I want to, so there’s my good memory of her. As well as the authentic memories of the Krewe of Colleen.
September 17th, 2008 at 8:49 pm
There will not be a time that I will think of Coleen without smiling. She was such a hoot! I had the pleasure of attending various reading conferences and book events with my friend Coleen. She always encouraged those of us who were budding authors and illustrators to do more and to think big. She was like a Fairy God Mother to so many! I am grateful to have had her in my corner. I will miss her laugh and her strong embrace and I will look forward to the day that I will see her again. I am sure she will have a whole new barrage of stories waiting to be told!!
September 18th, 2008 at 8:30 am
all hail the Queen…
Mardi Gras will not be the same..
October 5th, 2008 at 9:58 pm
I remember a warm afternoonwhen Colleen made an appearance at Book Ends bookstore in BaySt. Louis. She filled the room with life when she began to read a selection about Epposomondus. Oh, when she called his name you expected to see him waddle is the screen door.
Several of my gifted students went to the book signing and became life-long readers. They could not stop talking to her or about her the next morning at Second Street Elementary School.
She was so much fun , but the best was yet to be. She and the bookstore owner came in our school and there was an immediate buzz. What the girls had said was true–she was the lady in the book they had bought.
That warm afternoon, she read in an auditorium built in the 1920s to about 300 students and teachers. Everyone was caught up in the magic of her words. You could have heard a pin drop until the room erupted in laughter.
Those girls are now 9th and 10th graders, the bookstore was destroyed in Katrina, and we all lost our autographed books.
About a week after I received the email from Karen Rowell at USM, I was looking through a box of school pictures. I found a picture a Colleen on that warm afternoon with her book and her hat–enlightening us all setting visions in our heads.
Hail Queen Collen! We will miss her, but my students and I will always have the memories of an author’s tea on a warm afternoon.