Many claim that the sea-food industry built Biloxi. The industry burgeoned around the turn of the century. Polish migrants from Baltimore, Slavonian immigrants, and Louisiana Cajuns provided the labor that laid the foundations for Biloxi's station as "Seafood Capital of the World." Biloxi's latest immigrants to the seafood industry, the Vietnamese, arrived during the late 1970s and early 80s and revived the languid industry by accepting packing plant jobs that more established groups had begun to avoid. They built their own boats, opened businesses, and became a vibrant part of the Biloxi seafood and ethnic community.
Noting the dynamic interaction and adaptation of incoming national and cultural groups in New Orleans, Louisiana, George F. Reinecke utilized the term "creolization" to refer to the result of the interactive forces which led to the creation of a local ethnicity. Though on a much smaller population scale, Biloxi claims a similar history. Here the number of ethnic groups is fewer, but the basic premise the same: the interaction of ethnic groups helped create a community identity and occupational links reinforced it. The multi-ethnic nature of the seafood industry was present in its beginnings and continues today. Slavonians, Cajuns, and Vietnamese have each contributed to the cultural landscape of Biloxi. Their livelihood has been their shared culture, but they also strive to maintain their separate ethnic identities. Biloxi's history illustrates a continuum of ethnic influences in one Southern port city and demonstrates how those diverse elements fashioned a community identity.
Blessing of the Fleet, Biloxi, 1994.
Photograph by Aimee Schmidt
A Life of Faith, A Life of Celebration
"...That church (St. Michael) was built on shrimp pennies and women picking shrimp and shucking oysters. Yeah, all these people were Catholics. Most of the Slavonians were Catholic..." --Louis TrebotichThe fisherman is often depicted as a figure of polar opposites. Traditional images include the devil-may-care man with a penchant for wine and women, and the hardworking, God-fearing family man. There is some truth to both of these images. Fishermen admit to being a bit carefree. Being unfettered is part of their independent nature, and they work hard for a living. Yet, their predilection for superstition hints at respect and affirmation of some higher power. Biloxi is a city where piety and secular celebrations mix freely. Along the Gulf Coast, particularly in Biloxi, religious heritage and events rooted in a Christian tradition, such as the Blessing of the Fleet and Mardi Gras, are closely tied to the seafood industry.
The industry's religious affiliation stems from its early days of development. Most of Biloxi's Slavonian and Cajun population working in the seafood industry were CatholicÑleading to a preponderance of members of this faith on Point Cadet and Back Bay. St. John parish on Back Bay and St. Michael parish on the Point developed as a result of these incoming ethnic groups. As children, most of the residents on the Point attended St. Michael grade school (once located on Myrtle and First streets). A retired teacher from St. Michael fondly remembers the neighborhood of Point Cadet as one filled with good people holding working-class values and better off for it. "They were different people, good people. The priest used to say when the kids left the Point they'd get the Ôuptown ways'... They acted like they were better (than the people from the Point)."
William Gorenflo built Back Bay School on Main Street in 1898. Later, upon construction of a new and bigger complex, Gorenflo donated the old school to the Sisters of Mercy for the establishment of St. John parochial school. Lazaro Lopez served as chairman of the committee to reconstruct the Church of the Nativity after a fire destroyed it in 1900. He donated the bells which hang in the present Cathedral of the Nativity.
Most members of the community take pride in their heritage. Hard work built character and integrity, and if they ever doubted their worth, they had only to recall, "The meek shall inherit the earth." For much of the community, especially in the early days of the industry, their faith proved to be their stronghold.
One of the rituals of fishermen is to have their boats blessed. A prayer for protection and success would accompany them on the season's voyages. Biloxi's annual Blessing of the Fleet is actually an old world tradition brought from Europe. Biloxians first held the blessing in 1929, and thereafter it became an annual celebration with both Catholics and non-Catholics participating. Regardless of their religious affiliation, they were all fishermen. "The Blessing of the Fleet is for the fisherman a public petitioning of Almighty God's favor on his boat, his work, his family, his life," wrote the late Rev. Herbert J. Mullin who blessed the boats for years. The ritual developed into a public celebration in which the whole city, not just the seafood community, takes part, and it takes place each year before the opening of shrimp season in Mississippi waters (usually the beginning of May).
The festivities begin with a Saturday evening mass at St. Michael for the fishermen, and on Sunday afternoon the boats gather between the small craft harbor and Deer Island. The fishermen drop a wreath in the water in remembrance of those fishermen who have gone before them. Then, the pastor of St. Michael and the Bishop of the Diocese of Biloxi stand astern an anchored shrimp boat and bless the passing boats, sprinkling them with holy water. Friends and family board the boats to share in the parade, while crowds gather along the harbor or on the island to watch. During this ceremony and on the Fourth of July (which at one time was also a big festivity) women come aboard the boatsÑtraditionally a "man's" territory. The scene amounts to a Mardi Gras parade on water. Music blares from boat radios, and the boats parade by and wave to spectators. The crowds are not as thick as during Mardi Gras, but the attitude is the same: Eat, drink, and be merry. The Blessing of the Fleet is a community celebration of heritage and identity, and its popularity has grown such that National Geographic featured the event in its July 1992 edition.
A board of directors oversees the preparations for the event, which takes all year to plan. As with the Mardi Gras tradition, a king and queen rule over the weekend festivities. The board elects the Shrimp King from three candidates: one from the Slavic Association and one from the Fleur de Lis (these two clubs were instrumental in initiating the event and remain active participants in it), and one from the community at large. Usually the king is an older fisherman, one who has earned the title from his many years at sea. In recent years, however, the average age of the king has dropped, a sign of the changing times. Fewer Slavonians and Cajuns are going into the industry, and fewer fishermen are participating.
Young women around the ages of eighteen to twenty contend for the title of Shrimp Queen. Local factories nominate the candidates who must be descendants of fishermen in order to enter the contest. Candidates compete in a beauty pageant, an interview, and must submit a short essay on why they wish to become queen. The responses are laden with phrases such as "tradition," "family heritage," and "not to be forgotten." This could well be an appeal to the judges' sentiments, but the facts must back up these statements. The candidates acknowledge their parents and grandparents, and when asked to list relatives who worked in the industry, the names run off the pages. The young may not enter the profession as they once did, but they continue to identify with it and show an appreciation for it. In 1982, Gwen Lawrence reigned as Queen. Her mother recalls the joy the family felt when she won.
Volunteers do all of the planning and preparations. Since many of the fishermen are members of St. Michael Catholic Church, the parish has for many years been actively involved in the event. If any place embodies the spirit and influence of the seafood industry in Biloxi, it is St. Michael church (most of its members are fishermen or descendants of fishermen). The parish counts many Slavonians and Cajuns among its members and more recently Vietnamese, the newest members of Biloxi's fishing community. St. Michael is historically the fisherman's church. The architecture of the church is emblematic of this history. While the work camps and most of the original factories are gone, a new St. Michael's church stands visibly on Highway 90 at Point Cadet. Built in 1969, St. Michael's architectural features reflect many coastal themes. Its unique round design actually saved it from destruction during Hurricane Camille in 1969. As the waves hit the building, they rolled off to the sides rather than sweeping it away as they did so many other structures. Camille made St. Michael somewhat of a legend. People still tell the story of the two priests who rode out the storm inside the church as they clung to the statues of St. Joseph and Mary until the water receded.
Long-time parishioner and retired fisherman Frank Peter Barhonovich knows the background and symbolism of both the original and later church structures. At its founding, Slavonians, French Acadians, and Italians comprised St. Michael's parish. When they outgrew the original church, they built the new one on Highway 90 and paid for it in full ($500,000) at the time of its dedication. Barhonovich said that boats three to four miles offshore could see the church. The roof resembles a huge clam shell, and the holy water fonts are shells also. Inside, the stain glass windows tell a story. Figures of fishermen representing the apostles appear on the glass. A crown symbolizes heavenly reward, and the wheat stalk and grapes symbolize bread and wine. These, and an anchor, and a dish from the Holy Spirit are tied up in the fisherman's nets.
The neighborhoods of Back Bay and Point Cadet have similar histories. Both developed because of the seafood industry and have a similar ethnic diversity. Part of their identity came from an effort to distinguish themselves from others, especially those who would look down on them. The residents of the fishing community lived in an area that physically and socially set them apart from other Mississippians, and living in this place shaped their identity. The actual boundaries of the neighborhoods vary according to various sources, but all residents have a general understanding of what these boundaries are. Neighborhood identity, like occupational identity, was almost as strong, sometimes stronger, than ethnic identity. Despite their common history, a rivalry existed between the communities of Back Bay and the Point. Sentiments ran so strong that residents considered their neighborhoods as territory, and it was not safe for outsiders to spend time there after dark. Back Bay and Point Cadet residents say that others often perceive them as lower class, but they are fiercely proud of their working class heritage and defend it vehemently.
Ethnic identity was for many years tied to economic status and neighborhood. With each generation, these ties have weakened. Those Cajuns and Slavonians who worked in the factories and boats wanted "a better life for their children." They stressed education for their young who took better paying jobs, made new friends, and moved to different neighborhoods. It is the classic story of change and success as experienced by each generation, a natural shift in boundaries inherent to the dynamics of culture. The older generation wanted its children to succeed in other businesses, and they speak with pride about the doctors, lawyers, and other professionals that came from the Point and the Bay. Yet to speak too highly of them would belittle their own accomplishments. Tommy Schultz remarked with pride:
My wife has never had to work. I've always made the living. My daughter has a four-year degree, and she and her husband work to survive. Not to accomplish what we didÑjust to survive.Schultz's feelings, shared by others like him, carry a heavy message. "We had little, but look what we did with it. Don't ever think you are better than us."
The nature of their relationship with people outside the industry contributed to their pride and defensiveness. Those who would look down on them were the "Uptown" people, a stereotype term for the snooty, upperclass people of that area. Years ago the two groups did not mix, reported one resident, though he himself married an Uptown girl. "My wife still kids me now," remarked Andrew Melancon. "A Point Cadet [man] come Uptown and found an Uptown girl and married her. I told her I took her off the streets."
Today the make-up of the neighborhoods has changed. Slavonians, Cajuns, and Vietnamese live throughout the city as well as in Point Cadet and Back Bay. However, people still use neighborhood boundaries to classify people. Biloxi residents, especially older ones, use the terms "from the Point" or "from Uptown" to convey a certain meaning.
Since Slavonians and Cajuns both lived in Back Bay and Point Cadet, ethnic identity cut across neighborhood lines. They lived and worked together, and the nature of their interaction took many forms. Despite their cultural and language differences, their work, religion, and housing arrangements united them. Having to learn to speak English also equalized and united them. Ethnic identity became tied to an occupational identity, which helped bridge cultural barriers. Both groups started with little or nothing and made a name and a place for themselves in Biloxi. They were drawn together in their work, their church, and their neighborhoods. Ironically, this bridge did not extend so far as to embrace incoming Vietnamese fishermen. The complexities and emotionalism surrounding the introduction of Vietnamese into the industry proved more divisive than conjunctive.
The Slavonians and Cajuns enjoyed a relationship of sportive ridicule. They called each other "coon ass," and "Juga," or "tacko." They got along well but retained a degree of isolationism. Te-Jean Broussard and his wife Lou Skrnich Broussard recall the situation when they got married. "We got along good, but it was unbelievable that [a] Frenchman would marry a Slavonian girl. The first night I went to pick her up, I threw my hat in the door. If it stayed in, it means I'm all right. It didn't come out so it was all right. So we started dating."
Slavic and Cajun identities are like two circles which overlap, sharing a common areaÑtheir occupational identity, while forming a separate area unto themselvesÑtheir ethnic identity. Both occur within the broader Gulf Coast culture. For the most part created and maintained through the family, ethnic identity for these two Biloxi groups was strengthened by the larger ethnic community. The benevolent organizations founded by the Slavonians and Cajuns were a means of maintaining ethnic identity. They created an "in" group for themselves and excluded those who fell outside the prescribed boundaries.
The Slavic Benevolent Association, whose lodge is located on the corner of Myrtle and First streets on Point Cadet, has served the community since 1913. Originally the Austrian Benevolent Association, and then the Slavonian Benevolent Association, the various name changes of the Slavic Benevolent Association indicate that the lodge welcomed members from various Slavic ethnic groups: Croats, Serbs, Slavonians. Outside the lodge stands a statue of their patron saint, St. Nicola. Flanking the statue are cement tablets inscribed with the names of all the Slavic families who have settled on the Coast. In the beginning, only full-blooded slavonian men could join. However, due to intermarriage and the departure of young people from the city, the club reevaluated its membership criteria. Once again, the dynamics of culture and environment stimulated an alteration of cultural boundaries. Full-blooded Slavonians were hard to come by, and so they opened the doors to men whose fathers were Slavonian. In recent years they have allowed sons of Slavonian women to join. One of the younger members who supported the change said that it was partially an economic matter (because of declining membership) but also a matter of principle. "They are Slavonian too. It's the same attitude, just a different makeup." His remarks are evidence of the younger generation's role in redefining ethnic identity.
The lodge has a large dining/ meeting area, a kitchen, a barroom, and card playing rooms upstairs. They host wedding receptions, banquets, and a dinner during the annual golf tournament fundraiser. Hanging on the walls inside are poster size photographs of the old Biloxi schooners. Some of the men can point to a boat and name the builder and/or the owner, the boat's dimensions, and relate remarkable stories about the vessels. When asked about Slavonian heritage and about the seafood culture, lodge members really open up, and the stories come rolling out.
Thursday night is men's night out at the lodge with every third Thursday formal meeting night. Some men gather early for drinks and conversation before dinner. Sitting around the table, they swap stories, discuss the weather or the latest gossip on city politics, and talk about the gambling boats. They know who is related to whom, who a person's father is, what boat he worked on, and what his children are doing now. They have a willingness to share and to have their stories told. They speak with pride about what their community and their lodge have accomplished. For meetings, they usually have a steak dinner; otherwise, it is gumbo, red beans and rice, or another of the chef's favorites. They laud the chef's cooking skill. "On the boat. That's how he learned it."
Slavonian women have their own organization, the Ladies' Auxiliary. The day before Christmas Eve the Ladies' Auxiliary gathers at the lodge to prepare pusharatas, a Slavonian doughnut filled with fruit, cinnamon, nutmeg, raisins, and other delicacies. Each woman has her own recipeÑevery one different, and none wrong. This is the biggest event of the year for the Ladies Auxiliary. Throughout the day, the kitchen bustles with activity: hands rolling and frying dough, and participants arguing over the correct cooking method or taking time for friendly chats with visitors. Before the day is over they will have sold over 500 dozen pusharatas to Biloxians.
Just a few blocks west of the Slavonian Lodge is the Fleur de Lis, or French Club, as it is commonly known. It serves as a benevolent and social organization for the city's French population. "French" in Biloxi means both descendants of the early French settlers and Cajun French. People use the terms interchangeably, but most of the members are Cajun French. Membership is open to anyone with patrilineal or matrilineal ties, or through marriage. The French Club also hosts wedding receptions, dances, and holiday festivals and rents the building to non-members for receptions and other activities. The atmosphere and decor here is similar to the Slavonian Lodge. Old photos of club members hang on the walls. A large mural of a shrimp boat during the Blessing covers a wall in the pool room.
Each Friday night during Lent, the club hosts a seafood dinner (because Catholics cannot eat meat on Fridays during Lent). Here again, the men are in charge of the kitchen. The dinner is open to the public, and a few dollars will buy a plate of jambalaya, etouffee, or a bowl of gumbo. The atmosphere is family oriented with children accompanying their parents and grandparents for dinner. Most of them are club members who attend regularly week after week. For them it is a chance to socializeÑtypically French, one might say.
At one time the French population was quite vibrant. When the Shrimp Festival included a fais do-do, a local Cajun band could provide the music. Occasionally a band from Louisiana plays at the Club, but younger members have little interest in the music. "They don't know how to dance to the music, so they don't like it too much. I don't think they want to learn," said one woman. The youth do not embrace this creative expression of their culture. Their musical tastes lie with the country-western and rock-and-roll sound of American culture. The demise of their musical tradition is just an example of how the Cajun culture assimilated into a new environment. This is not to say, however, that the interest is dead. Each September, some members of the French Club charter a bus to Lafayette, Louisiana, for a Cajun music festival. For them, preserving that aspect of their culture means going back to the land of their roots.
Another tradition that has fallen by the wayside strikes at the very core of the seafood industry and at the root of the ethnic heritage in Biloxi. Men and women once active in the seafood industry have retired, and few in the subsequent generations have chosen the life of a fisherman. In some ways, the older generation is responsible as they encouraged their sons and daughters to finish high school and attend college to become doctors, lawyers, and accountants. Many of their children did just that. When Tommy Schultz's son said that he did not want to take over the boat, Schultz was angry, but he realized that his son had made the right decision. As the son and grandson of fishermen, Schultz fully grasps the meaning of his situation as he faces retirement. "I'm the last of them, the last of the Mohicans."
Detail of shrimp boat in Biloxi small craft harbor, 1994.
Photograph by Aimee Schmidt
"Freedom Country"-Biloxi's Vietnamese
"I don't have any idea on my mind when I come to Biloxi what I do. But only on my mind is freedom. I live with communism three years. So hard ... Even the price high, I had to get out." --Liem Tran, Biloxi businessmanFor almost sixty years the Slavonians and Cajuns formed the backbone of Biloxi's seafood industry. The latest immigrants to settle in the city are the Vietnamese. Since their arrival fifteen years ago they have become a viable part of the industry and the community. The shift has not been easyÑfor the Vietnamese or native Biloxians. In some respects, the Vietnamese experience is similar to that of other immigrants to Biloxi: their ethnicity is a common bond, they work in the seafood industry, and they settled in Point Cadet and Back Bay, where earlier immigrants lived. The Vietnamese, however, came not as immigrants seeking prosperity, but as refugees fleeing a war-torn nation and communism. Their refugee status, with its government aid and benefits, alienated them from native Biloxi fisherman, who saw them as economic competition. Their philosophy of life and their attitude toward work and family did not readily mesh with American culture. Their culture and very presence has sometimes placed them at odds with the Biloxi community. In Biloxi and other gulf Coast towns they confronted racial prejudice as well as cultural and language barriers. However, they also met with compassion from people who sponsored their entry into the United States, assisted them in locating homes, and provided them educational and employment opportunities.
Individuals and private organizations sponsored Vietnamese refugees to the United States. The Catholic Diocese of Biloxi took an active role in the plight of Vietnamese refugees. Today a Vietnamese priest serves both St. Michael and St. Joseph parishes in Biloxi, and St. Paul in Pass Christian. Within the church community itself is a Vietnamese community. They hear mass in Vietnamese, have their own choir and youth group, and two Vietnamese nuns work with the youth. The Catholic Social Services Migration and Refugee Center in Biloxi aids Vietnamese with housing, employment, and medical assistance once they arrive on the Coast. This center, established in the late 1970's, aids all refugees on the Coast, but overwhelmingly their clients are Vietnamese who live in Biloxi.
The seafood industry drew the Vietnamese to Biloxi just as it did the Slavonians and Cajuns before them. Many of the Vietnamese now living on the Coast came by way of Louisiana. They worked in the seafood industry in Morgan City, New Orleans, and other coastal cities. Two trailers full of unshucked oysters were responsible for many Vietnamese coming to Biloxi. In 1977, Richard Gollot, owner of Golden Gulf Seafood on Back Bay, could not find people to work in his factory. He heard of Vietnamese shucking oysters in New Orleans, drove a van over one day and brought back a dozen Vietnamese to work for him. After a week he persuaded one family to move to Biloxi, and others soon followed. Today nearly 2,000 Vietnamese, fifty-one percent of Mississippi's Vietnamese population, live in Biloxi.
The seafood industry offered the Vietnamese employment best suited to their needs. The men became fishermen working together on the boats and pooling their resources. Women and children worked in the factories where they did not worry about their English deficiency, because most of their co-workers were Vietnamese also. As with the Slavonians and Cajuns before them, working became a shared experience, thus reaffirming the community bond. More important than financial success is the independence and freedom they attain for themselves and their families, said Liem Tran who owns a Biloxi trawl shop. "This is my business. I am owner. I run by myself. It was difficult to learn, but every job you go to you have to learn anyway. I am working hard, but I save my money. I do not think for me. I do not think for my wife, but I think for my children. Raise money for them for future."
The influx of Vietnamese in the late 70s and early 80s coincided with a stretch of several poor shrimp seasons on the Coast. Unfortunately, the Vietnamese received the blame for economic woes of Coast fishermen. Cultural differences and misunderstandings compounded by an increase in boats in an already competitive field strained the relations between Vietnamese and Coast fishermen. Rumors spread of free boats and welfare checks for Vietnamese. Native fishermen complained that many Vietnamese owned boats illegally because they were not properly documented. They called for legal measures to protect their livelihood. In some cases their protests took the form of ethnic bashing. Many Americans labeled these Vietnamese "gooks" or "fish breath," and said that the situation that existed was the price of losing a war. Bumper stickers that read "Save Your Shrimp IndustryÑGet Rid of Vietnamese" appeared on cars along the Coast. American fishermen claimed economic conditions, not racial prejudice, as the cause of their resentment. Meanwhile, the Vietnamese accepted their condition and tried to make the best of it.
Americans have differing opinions of the Vietnamese. Some say the Vietnamese remind them of their immigrant parents and grandparents. They respect the Vietnamese for their dedication to work, but some claim the Vietnamese work the waters too much, too often, and that hurts everyoneÑVietnamese included.
Most Americans, fishermen included, wanted to help the Vietnamese, but were looking out for themselves, too. In attempts to solve the problems and put an end to rumors, Biloxi held several public meetings in which participants aired their opinions. Often, tempers flared as American fishermen argued that their industry was bearing an unfair share of the burden of employing refugees. Across the entire Gulf Coast, battle lines were drawn between American and Vietnamese fishermen. In Seadrift, Texas, a Vietnamese man killed an American in self-defense. In Biloxi, police found a bomb aboard a Vietnamese-owned boat. Though they had no proof that Americans had placed it there, this remained a strong possibility in light of the situation. No one died in the Biloxi feuding, but some American fishermen began carrying guns on the boats. There were instances of shooting nets and sabotaging boats, but the Vietnamese rarely reported the crimes because they did not want to stir up more trouble.
Not all American fishermen showed hostility toward the Vietnamese. They credited the Vietnamese with working the poor beds and trawling for shrimp that American fishermen would pass by. In fact, some Americans went out of their way to help the Vietnamese get started with their boats. The Covacivich family rented space in their boat yard to Vietnamese builders. These Biloxians felt betrayed when the press, the public, and the Vietnamese made the American fishermen out as the villains in the ordeal.
Most of the trouble between the two groups stemmed from cultural differences and the language barrier. Since many Vietnamese could not understand English, they could not read the Coast Guard regulations regarding boat operation in American waters. They did not understand the gauges on their boats that signal the battery power, and so, they sometimes ran their boats without lights while still in the Mississippi Sound. The Vietnamese also had different methods for shrimping and oystering. Americans nicknamed Vietnamese-style boats "chopsticks" because they rigged the nets on two poles extending from the bow of the boat and pushed the nets through the water rather than the standard American method of pulling them. They continued the Vietnamese practice of working the waters North to South, but the American fishermen trawled East to West. In close quarters such as the Mississippi Sound (12 miles wide and 29 miles long), this resulted in tangled nets. American fishermen work the oyster beds in circles, but the Vietnamese dredged back and forth over the beds. Americans called it "reef busting," and said it damaged the reefs.
A committee composed of Vietnamese and American fishermen, and various city and marine officials, formed to address these problems. In addition to hosting public forums and dispelling rumors about government aid to Vietnamese, they took necessary practical steps to improve relations. They distributed translated version of the Coast Guard rules, including instruction and maintenance of boat equipment, and stressed the importance of abiding by the traditional fishing practices in order to avoid damage to nets and other equipment and to conserve the crop.
Gone are the days when the seafood unloading docks turned away Vietnamese fisherman for fear of losing their local customers. Over time, both sides have reached a tenable understanding and acceptance of each other. Jackie Trieu, the wife of a Vietnamese shrimper, has lived in Biloxi over ten years. She and her husband Hiep moved there from Texas, and their story typifies the Vietnamese experience: "I heard that when Vietnamese first come here for shrimper a lot of American people reacted bad, and suddenly they got used to it. Now they get used to it, to our boats. But the first few families that work in the oyster factories, they doesn't like it. They cursing at us saying, ÔGo back where we belong.' And now they get used to it. It's not hard for me, though. I don't care whatever they say...It's a freedom country."
A number of Vietnamese businesses opened in Biloxi to support the growing community. As with the shrimp boats, these were family run operations as well. On Howard Avenue one can buy food from a Vietnamese grocery, rent a Vietnamese video, eat lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant, and buy a tape of Vietnamese music from a department store. At the Xuan Huong Cafe on Division Street one sees evidence of the blend of American and Vietnamese cultures: Christmas garland and a statue of Buddha decorate the interior. Listing items in both Vietnamese and English, the menu includes such items as American coffee, Vietnamese coffee (Cafe du Monde with condensed milk), and Barq's Root Beer. The owner and customers all speak in Vietnamese, but an American talk show blares over the television. In this setting one sees how the Vietnamese have adapted to American styles, how they have taken bits of American culture and made it their own, and yet how they have not entirely embraced American culture. They hold it at arm's length, sometimes pulling it close, and sometimes pushing it away.
The Vietnamese community in Biloxi, not yet twenty years old, continues to change. Their culture cannot exist intact in Biloxi as it did in Vietnam because of the influence of the broader American culture. As demonstrated earlier in the case of the Cajuns and the Slavonians, the Vietnamese will continue to make some concessions in order to adapt and prosper. Short of withdrawing from American society completely, there is no escaping its influences and the inevitable mingling of cultures. The Vietnamese in Biloxi have not withdrawn completely. They are a community within a community, but they are in and are becoming more so.
Noon-time meal aboard the San Jose, Biloxi, Mississippi 1984.
Photograph by Tom Rankin
The Opening of Another Season
"Biloxi is just reliving its history. The Vietnamese are doing what the Slavonians and French did before them. Workin' in seafood and sending their kids to college." --Richard Gollot.The annual Blessing of the Fleet now draws together the Vietnamese and American fishermen, as well as the whole Biloxi community. In years past the Slavonian Lodge, Fleur de Lis Club, and St. Michael's parish were co-sponsors, but this year the church took sole responsibility for the event. Tonya Lyons, a member of one of Biloxi's seafood families and a past Shrimp Queen herself, chaired the weekend festivities. She called upon friends and family to help rejuvenate the "celebration of Biloxi's heritage." Included among the events was a showing of the recently produced film, "The Biloxi that Seafood Built," and the creation of the Biloxi Seafood Industry Hall of Fame award, to honor individuals who have bestowed a life time of service to the industry. The "Biloxi Shrimp Festival and Heritage Celebration" kicked off Saturday morning with a schooner race between the Glenn L. Swetman and the Mikey Sekul, and a day of festivities at the pavilion near the Seafood Museum. At 4:00 the community gathered at St. Michael, the traditional "fishermen's church," for a special mass.
Beginning Sunday morning boats gathered between the small craft harbor and Deer Island for the Blessing. The Shrimp King and Queen led. This year fifty-two working boats participated, including several Vietnamese owned boats, one of which was the lead boat. Numerous other pleasure crafts joined the water parade.
In keeping with the celebratory nature, most boat owners decorated their crafts. Decorations ranged from gaudy to playful to political and humorous. Colorful triangular flags stretched from the mast to the stern. Some boats flew American flags and Mississippi state flags, and a few flew Confederate battle flags. Religious items such as crucifixes, portraits of Jesus, and rosary beads made of flotation devices were in keeping with the theme, "May God provide a watchful hand and abundant harvest."
The Blessing has always included and relied upon the generosity of area businesses to donate money and prizes, such as a free haul out, tune up, and C. B. radios. This year members of the Coast's newest industryÑcasino gamblingÑparticipated in the Blessing of the Fleet. They gave financial support, hosted a party for the past Kings and Queens, and a screening of the film, which the Grand Casino helped fund. Chefs from the casinos also participated in the Best Shrimp Dish contest at the Festival.
Since legalization of dockside gambling in Mississippi in 1992, the state, the coast, and Biloxi in particular, have experienced changes that were unimaginable two years ago. With gambling came an explosion of construction, employment, and a new workforce arriving to fill the need. Presently, fourteen casinos operate on the Coast (Harrison and Hancock counties), and ten of these are in Biloxi. Another eleven licenses for Coast casinos await approval. Gambling has supplanted the seafood industry to become the city's top money-making interest. Each day 60,000 visitorsÑnot localsÑgamble at Coast casinos. In June the tax receipts from the casinos in Biloxi totaled $38.4 million, over one-third the total for the state. That is just one month alone. Unemployment has dropped as well. According to the Chamber of Commerce, the industry created 15,000 new jobs initially, and 75% of those hired were Mississippians. Unemployment dropped from 8.2% in August 1992 to 6.2% in June 1994.
Ironically, the gambling interests have moved into Point Cadet and Back BayÑonce the focal point of the seafood industry. All the seafood dealers and canneries on the beach sold out to casino companies and moved their operations or simply closed down. Two long-time beach side Biloxi restaurants, The Factory and Baricev's, once owned and operated by Slavonians, have closed down. Fisherman's Wharf, one of the city's last beach side restaurants remains open under casino ownership.
Shrimp boats still dock at Biloxi's small craft harbor where neon billboards loom in the background. All the seafood industry operations have moved to Back Bay. Two casinos already operate there, and discussion continues over whether to allow further gambling expansion on the Bay. If it expands, said Richard Gollot, "Biloxi will lose a $40 million (seafood) industry. It will be a Las Vegas on a peninsula."
Long-term effects of gambling will not become apparent for some time, but the immediate effects have reached into almost every aspect of the Biloxi and coast community. The issue has divided the population into pro-gambling and anti-gambling forces and has been a hot political topic since first proposed. Some of those initially in favor of gambling, including people in the seafood industry, are having second thoughts. They cite a rising crime rate, traffic and noise pollution, and unforeseen maintenance costs as the source of their change of heart.
Economically, gambling has had a whirlwind effectÑchanging the job market, the tourism industry, and, of course, the seafood industry. The casinos and new construction have altered the physical landscape, while the new labor pool and new ideology have altered the cultural landscape. Some residents are selling their property to gaming interests and moving out of Point Cadet, the neighborhood now known as Casino Row. Spending an evening at the Slavonian Lodge is not as appealing as watching a heavy-weight boxing match at a casino. The casinos are in heated competition to draw locals and tourists alike to a new source of entertainment.
Meanwhile, the role of the seafood industry in Biloxi's culture and economy is still changing, and its fate is unknown. The number of boats has increased, but the children of fishermen are seeking opportunities elsewhere. Even among the VietnameseÑthe majority in the industry nowÑsome have moved on to other jobs, and their young are pursuing professional careers.
David Veal, of the Coastal Extension and Sea Grant Office, explains that it is too early to determine the exact nature of the relationship between the industries. Gaming is just one more factor contributing to the major overhaul that the seafood industry has been experiencing for the past decade. The shrimp population has remained stable over the years, but the harvesting capacity has grown. More boats with greater horsepower and bigger nets are taxing the resource. Competition from foreign imports has weakened the Gulf shrimpers control of the market and leveled out the price. "The seafood industry like the automotive industry is coming to grips with a global economy," said Veal. "It may ultimately be displaced in Biloxi, but I don't think it will disappear completely."
The seafood industry is at the heart of Biloxi's culture and history, and ethnic diversity is at the heart of the industry. Changes in the industry affect not only the fishermen but the whole city. Biloxians are starting to realize the unique identity of their city and are making efforts to maintain it. They have even reached out to the Vietnamese community by holding a public symposium on Vietnamese culture and issuing a newspaper series titled "The People Within," which focuses on the Vietnamese community within the larger Coast fabric. Biloxians see mass culture as both a threat and a blessing, and they try to walk that fine line between adaptation and conformity. The seafood industry gave it that identity, and the Polish, Slavonians, Cajuns, and Vietnamese built the industry. Woven together, these various ethnic groups created a city with many cultures and identities all rooted in one industry. The gambling influences are another thread in the cultural makeup of Biloxi. They will make their fortunes from the sea in a different manner than those before them, and in time the lasting impression of this industry will surface. Biloxians remember what built their city and celebrate its history. They have erected a Seafood Industry Museum acknowledging the great debt owed to those who made it the "Seafood Capital of the World." Through the generosity of private donors, the city directed a project to build reproductions of the great white-winged schooners, the Glenn L. Swetman and the Mickey Sekul. They cherish their own ethnic identities, and they acknowledge and respect their shared experiences. That is why Slavonian women still teach their daughters how to make pusharatas and why a Vietnamese couple can hold their wedding reception at the Fleur de Lis Club. Their identity and their Biloxi culture is part of the whole American experience. They are part of this city, one with many faces and many voices. They are Slavonian, Cajun, Vietnamese, Point Cadet, Back Bay, and Uptown, and they are all Biloxi.
Selected Bibliography
Primary Sources:
Biloxi, Mississippi City Directory, 1905.
Sanborn Fire Map, City of Biloxi, Mississippi 1914 and 1925.
City of Biloxi, Mississippi Public Library, Oral History Collection: interviews with families involved in the seafood industry.
City of Biloxi, Mississippi Public Library, Vertical Files: schooners, seafood industry, ethnic groups.
Secondary Sources:
Arden, Harvey. "Troubled Odyssey of Vietnamese Fishermen," National Geographic, September 1981.
Byington, Robert H., ed. Working Americans. Los Angelos: California Folklore Society, 1978.
Canis, William F., William J. Neal, Orrin H. Pilkey, Sr., and Orrin H. Pilkey, Jr. Living with the Alabama-Mississippi Shore. Durham, North Carolina: Duke University Press, 1983.
Curry, Jane. The River's in My Blood. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1985.
Geertz, Clifford. The Interpretation of Cultures. New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1973.
Gold, Steven J. Refugee Communities. London: Sage Publications, 1992. "Growth of the Seafood Industry," in the City of Biloxi Tour Guide and History, 1970-1971.
Gutierrez, Paige C. The Cultural Legacy of Biloxi's Seafood Industry. Biloxi, Mississippi, 1984.
Jordan, Rosan A. "Folklore and Ethnicity: Some Theoretical Considerations," in Louisiana Folklife, ed. Nicholas R. Spitzer. Baton Rouge: Louisiana Folklife Program/Division of the Arts, 1985.
Lloyd, Timothy C. and Patrick Mullen. Lake Erie Fishermen. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1990.
McKee, Jesse. Ethnicity in Contemporary America. Debuque, Iowa: Iowa University Press, 1985.
Mindel Charles H. and Robert W. Habenstein. Ethnic Families in America: Patterns and Variations. New York: Elsever, 1976, 1981.
Mullen, Patrick C. I Heard the Old Fisherman Say. Logan, Utah: Utah State University Press, 1978.
Noone, Rev. John. From Vietnam to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Biloxi, Mississippi: The Catholic Diocese of Biloxi, 1981.
Reinecke, George F. "The National and Cultural Groups of New Orleans," in Louisiana Folklife, ed Nicholas R. Spitzer. Baton Rouge: Louisiana Folklife Program/Division of the Arts, 1985.
Rutledge, Paul James. The Vietnamese Experience in America. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992.
Sheffield, David A. and Darnell L. Nicovich. When Biloxi was Seafood Capital of the World. Biloxi, Mississippi, 1979.
The Sun Herald. "The People Within: How the Vietnamese have adapted to life on the Coast." Biloxi, MS, 1993.
______. "Angry shrimpers want Viets to fall in line." Biloxi, MS, 21 March, 1980.
______. "Shrimpers complain about influx of foreign fishermen." Biloxi, MS, 2 April, 1980.
______. "ÔOverworked' waters pose problem for officials." Biloxi, MS, 3 May, 1980.
______. "Fishermen discuss problems at symposium." Biloxi, MS, 2 April, 1980.
______. "Misunderstandings, differences create tension over fishing style along Mississippi Gulf Coast." Biloxi, MS, 12 June, 1983.
______. "Gulf Coast fishing conflict: There's more to it than meets the eye." Biloxi, MS, June 1981
Thernstrom, Stephen, ed. Harvard Encyclopedia of American Ethnic Groups. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980.
"When Oysters and Shrimp became Big Business," Daily Herald. Gulfport, Mississippi reprinted from September 10, 1892.
Young, D.C. and Stephen Young. "Ethnic Mississippi 1992," in Ethnic Heritage in Mississippi, ed. Barbara Carpenter. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1992.
Interviews:
Broussard, Lou and Neville "Te-Jean". Interview by author, 28 November 1992, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Covacivich, Anthony "Tony Jack". Interview by author, 19 February 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Kavacivich, Katie. Interview by author, 2 January 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Field notes.
Kuljis, Mary. Interview by author, 17 October 1992, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Leleaux, Magdela. Interview by author, 10 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Melancon, Andrew. Interview by author, 16 October 1992, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Nguyen, La. Interview by author, 10 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Nguyen, Johnathon. Interview by author, 12 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi.
Phan, Rev. Dominic. Interview by author, 8 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Schultz, Tommy. Interview by author, 22 November 1992, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Tran, Liem. Interview by author, 8 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Trebotich, Louis and Steve. Interview by author, 24 November 1992, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Trieu, Jackie. Interview by author, 13 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
Vu, Tricia. Interview by author, 10 March 1993, Biloxi, Mississippi. Tape recording.
