College football

A heart big enough for Fats

LSU QB JaMarcus Russell took in the R&B legend, his girlfriend's granddad, and 18 others in the wake of Katrina.

By ANTONYA ENGLISH
Published October 13, 2005

Imagine you're in your apartment with 19 unexpected guests.

Everyone is on edge after Hurricane Katrina, but your girlfriend is safe and your apartment has been spared from damage.

And Fats Domino is sleeping on your couch.

The Fats Domino.

LSU quarterback JaMarcus Russell thought his biggest tests this fall would come on the football field, from teams such as Florida, which the Tigers host Saturday.

Instead, life threw him a bigger challenge.

Russell, 20, went from starting quarterback to emergency relief worker for 19 people, including 77-year-old Antoine "Fats" Domino, a constant on the New Orleans music scene in the 1950s known for hits Blueberry Hill and Ain't That a Shame.

Russell's girlfriend, Chantelle, is Fats' granddaughter. After the hurricane, his longtime agent, Al Embry, and Fats' daughter, Karen Domino White, reported him missing.

Chantelle was out of her mind with worry.

"It was my girlfriend's family," Russell said. "She was up all night, different times of night during the week, worried about if her family was okay and where they were. She was wondering if her parents and her family were dead or alive. And it dawned on me: "What if it was my family? How would I react to it?' So I knew I had to do something."

Fats had refused to leave New Orleans as the hurricane approached and was trapped inside his home near the lower Ninth Ward after water rose nearly 20 feet. The family sought safety on a third-floor deck and was ultimately rescued after flagging down an emergency boat.

They spent two hours in the shelter before Russell picked them up and drove them to his Baton Rouge apartment.

Fats had lost everything.

"It was God's will," he said in a statement expressing gratitude to Russell.

Russell opened his home to Fats and other members of the singer's family. The quarterback and the crooner had met once before, but under much better circumstances. This time, Fats bunked at Russell's apartment for several days. He slept on the couch, he watched television, but he didn't sing.

"He was pretty tired," Russell said. "He wasn't really in the mood to sing."

While sheltering evacuees, Russell's days consisted of multiple grocery store runs. There was even a 2 a.m. trip to the pharmacy to pick up medicine Fats needed.

"It was kind of tiresome," said Russell, a sophomore from Mobile, Ala. "I was trying to make sure they were okay. I knew those people didn't have anything to go back home to. I was trying to make them feel at home as much as possible, even though it was my house." While taking care of his house guests (who spent much of the time watching hurricane coverage on television), Russell attended practice and tried to keep up with his team responsibilities. School was canceled, the team's season opener was postponed and its second game against Arizona State was moved from Baton Rouge to Tempe, Ariz.

He and other teammates also volunteered a couple of days at a local shelter helping other Katrina evacuees.

"It was tough," Russell said. "Coach (Les Miles) always says once you get inside the white lines everything goes away (but the game). And you try not to think about it too much, but it was just something about it, you couldn't forget it. That's what made the mental part tough. You couldn't block it out.

"I won't take life for granted no more. I'll take nothing for granted."

[Last modified October 13, 2005, 01:11:19]