Belle Blog

One of the owners of the local restaurant Herby K’s was shot during an armed robbery Friday night, Shreveport police report.

Adrian Johngene “John” Bean Jr., 58, died early today at LSU Hospital.

Police responded to a 911 call about an armed robbery and shooting at the restaurant in the 1800 block of Pierre Avenue about 9:45 p.m. Friday.

Police patrol reports said a John Bean, born Oct. 20, 1947, was shot in the robbery and taken to LSU Hospital. Hospital supervisors did not have a John Bean on their rolls but did report treating Adrian Bean, with the same birth date, and that Bean died of his wounds shortly before 1 a.m. Caddo District Court marriage records show Adrian Johngene Bean Jr. married to Janet Kaye Thrasher Busi, who is shown in Louisiana Secretary of State records as the current owner of Herby K’s.

Gary Hines, a waiter and cook at Herby K’s, said he heard Bean and a man wrestling and walked out of the kitchen. Hines said he saw the man — who was wearing all black and a black mask — shoot Bean in the lower abdomen.

“Then, he just let go,” Hines, 42, said. Bean appeared to lose
consciousness.

A nurse and a doctor performed CPR on Bean, Hines said, and revived him.

The robber fled the restaurant through an alley, Hines said.

Police have made no arrests. The patrol report says the robber’s attire made it impossible to note any distinguishing characteristics.

This is the second violent murder to occur at the storied city eatery this decade.

The first happened in October 2004 when a popular restaurant worker, Kevin Shields, who lived in an apartment attached to the restaurant, allegedly was stabbed after hours by an acquaintance following an argument.

Shreveporter Carson Green, then 24, was arrested and has been indicted on charges of first-degree murder. He pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. Prosecutors have said they plan to seek the death penalty in the case, which is now set for trial in Caddo District Court on Sept. 25 before Judge Leon Emanuel.

People with more information on the robbery and subsequent first-degree murder of Adrian Johngene “John” Bean Jr. should call police detectives at (318) 673-6955 or Shreveport Crime Stoppers at (318) 673-7373.

I and all my family extend our thoughts and prayers to the Bean family and restaurant employees. I know they treat their employees like members of their own family and I’m sure they are all devastated and scared. I’ll never be able to remember all the times I spent running around that restaurant with Racheal and her parents, the cooks sneaking us food and basically babysitting us, so we didn’t get burned by grease. Herby-K’s is a legend of a restaurant, one of the oldest in the city and home to the Shrimp Buster sandwich. Until I was five I thought shrimp were always flat; I did not know that I ate them that way because some cook smashed the shit out of them. This is a horrible day. another ripple of Katrina.

So, I was out to dinner tonight with a new girlfriend (not that kind, guys) and she is addament about people and their signs. ‘What sign are you? well, that explains this and that’ and blah blah blah. I have no idea what any of it means, and all my life when someone pointed it out I barely took heed. One of my sisters, Courtney, follows the stars. and every once in a while I wil get a random phone call from Courtney in Hawaii warning me to stay alert or keep smiling because the stars are aligning either for or against me at the moment. All I can do is belive her. I won’t. because I am just not convinced the stars know who I am, but I casually take heed for at least fifteen minutes.
When I was in high school I read my horoscope everyday because it was on the same page as the comics in the newspaper. and sure enough, everyday it was relevant. but then.. they all were really. because they’re so general. according to the Shreveport Times, I could be a Cancer, Pisces, or Taurus and still have a great Tuesday balancing my checkbook. and the way I smoke cancer is looking just fine.
But my friend Amy is leaning on me in an Asian Fusion restaurant about who I should and should not see because of when they were born. or why things have or have not worked out with men because of when they were born….
seriously? people buy this? is there any truth to it? sounds fuckin impossible…
so then how does some new friend who barely knows me or the stories of my exes nail us all on the head? What is it about mid February that makes me play patient and coy with emotions? And why are Taurus addament or Cancer hot?
I put the sushi down and try to counter, but I cant. they were.
fuck.
fucking signs. it has to be bullshit. because you could Say anything and make it true. I am stubborn and patient and coy and blunt.
‘when I want to be’ is the key.

huh? maybe? any opinions out there?

Please tell ten friends to tell ten today! The Breast Cancer site is having trouble getting enough people to click on their site daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to an underprivileged woman. It takes less than a minute to go to their site and click on “donating a mammogram” for free (pink window in the middle).

This doesn’t cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammogram in exchange for advertising.

Here’s the web site! Pass it along to people you know. http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/

A Rough Draft of Shawn’s Imaginary Love Life by Shawn Randall
Category: Writing and Poetry

A Rough Draft of Shawn’s Imaginary Love Life

SCENE 1: THE BEGINNING

In the city that never sleeps
everyone dreams
Time flashing square in our
faces in a broad way.
In Forty seconds,
streets swept by
a million soles
pounding the pavement
a drum roll of beating hearts marching.

The first time I saw her.

She was getting hailed with
compliments by men
who confused her for a yellow cab.
Some even grabbing her arm
and trying to jump in a backseat conversation.

DIALOGUE

No I’m not going to Brooklyn
and you can not talk to me for a second.

Insert broken relationship SCENES 2 through 25

CUT TO:
SCENE 26

SUBTITLE: Stars Left Lovers Cross

You paraded into my bedroom
with an entourage of kisses to
undo the forget me knots in my stomach

your academy award-winning timid hello
convinced me for a moment that you were the victim.

Remember?

The envelope please.

The emotionless goodbye note you left
on the shattered windshield of my breath
that yanked the red carpet dreams of us sharing a royal life together.

Queen Boomerang has returned.
But you can park your Hollywood dreams
of a starring role in my arms
in the potholes you left in my heart.

I’ve
unpacked all the bags under my eyes
and discarded all the sleepless nights of wondering
why I wasn’t good enough.

I can’t do this anymore.

I no longer date tornadoes.
My feet remain underground
no longer get swept into the air.
The last time you touched down
my hopes were flooded
and my focus was evacuated.

I had to rebuild.
I took the stars out of my eyes
and put them in my back pocket so I can
see clearly.

Remove my number from revolving door of your digital rolodex.
Cause for you it’s out of order.

EXTERIOR

Beeping horn crescendos
outside my window
She tropical storms out my front
door.

THE END?