Joyce Mcguire

Joyce McGuire, 1927-2005

Elizabeth Mullener
Staff writer

Joyce McGuire was a big woman -- in every sense of the word. She was big of stature, at nearly 6 feet. She was big of spirit, with a tart tongue and a taste for the outrageous. And she was big of heart, too, with a generous nature and a talent for having a good time.

"She was a go-getter, I'll tell you that," said her daughter-in-law, Nora Pitre.

A proud daughter of St. Bernard Parish, McGuire had two husbands, three children and a colorful career -- first as a traveling saleswoman for Sears, then as a representative for Frederick's of Hollywood, then as a booking agent on Bourbon Street and, finally, as proprietor of three carpet stores in Chalmette. Carpets by Joyce, the stores were called, with a motto -- "We tell it like it is" -- imprinted on its business cards.

"And did she!" said her granddaughter, Jeanne Carson. "She told anybody anything. She didn't hold anything back.

"She'd walk into someone's house and say, 'Oh no, honey, you can't put that carpet in this house. It's going to look tee-co-tay.' That was her word for tacky."

McGuire, her family said, would pass judgment, in uninhibited fashion, on anyone in sight, offering running commentary as she walked down the street: That woman ought to change her hair color, this one could take off a few pounds, that man should not be wearing white socks with that suit.

As for her own sense of style, it was distinctive. With green eyes, auburn hair and ivory skin, she was not into demure.

"The more rhinestones, the better," Carson said. "Sort of the Las Vegas look."

When her hair turned gray, McGuire took a fancy to wigs -- "shake 'n' bakes," she called them, for unknown reason.

"So if her hair wasn't ta-da," said Carson, "she would say 'Oh, honey, go get me my shake-n-bake.' "

The same flair for the flamboyant was evident in her two-bedroom house in Arabi. Each room had a character all its own. The parlor was furnished in antiques, the bedroom had a jungle look, one bathroom was done up like a rain forest, the other was reminiscent of the Bahamas and the den had a Vieux Carre theme.

"She liked to travel," Pitre said, "but only in her house."

McGuire turned 78 last year, but her granddaughter said she never got old. She managed to live large nearly all of her life.

When she got married for the second time, the wedding was at Parasol's in the Irish Channel. When she went to a Saints game, which she did religiously, she decked herself out in black pants, a gold lame jacket and a big black hat festooned in gold and rhinestones. And when she went to a Carnival ball, which she also did religiously, she was celebrated for her second-lining.

"She came out all in purple with the feathers coming out of her silver hat," Pitre said. "She knew how to do a shuffle dance where you go down to the ground, hit the floor, then spring back up. She'd blow the whistle to get the party started and when she did, they'd all line up. She loved to be in the limelight."

It was not surprising to anyone in her family that when Hurricane Katrina was bearing down on New Orleans, Joyce McGuire refused to leave town.

While the rest of the family headed for Tupelo, Miss., McGuire's son, James Pitre, stayed in Arabi with her. When the water got high, Pitre got a neighbor's boat and carried his mother to it on his back, against her will. As they were taking off from her house, he heard shouts for help coming from a neighbor. Pitre dove into the water and swam down the street. Waiting for her son in the boat, McGuire had a heart attack and died.

"My grandma's favorite song was, 'You've been a good old wagon, but honey, your wagon done broke down,' " Carson said. "I think that refers to her life, the way she was: You had a good time, now move aside and let somebody else get the spotlight."

Published in The Times-Picayune