The unsung heroes who get up early to get businesses going

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It’s early—6 or 7 in the morning. Work boots crunch on the parking lot asphalt. The jangle of a key into a lock. The smell of fresh cinnamon bread, the low hum of downtown tuning up for another day, the splitting brightness of the first rays of sun allowed through the garage doors.

This is the scene while the rest of us are slumping out of bed and checking our calendars for that reminder of what we have to take care of before work. When we bring our cars to the body shop or pick up a loaf of bread, they’re already at work waiting for us. They’re the reason we can stop in on our morning commute; sometimes they’re the ones who make work possible at all.

These are the people who show up before everyone else to unlock the doors, turn on the lights, ready the security gates and start up the till for another day of business. Here’s what their mornings look like.

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Through nearly three decades owning this Mid City institution, Blaze Ragusa has been the first to pull up the garage doors at Ragusa’s Automotive. He’s there as much as an hour before the shop’s 7:30 a.m. opening time to check the machinery and the inventory of car parts, look over the work for the day and keep the wheels turning.

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Sergeants at arms have many jobs, like wrangling out-of-order politicians and getting members of the House where they need to be within the walls of the capitol. Leroy Cavalier, longtime assistant sergeant at arms of the Louisiana House of Representatives, is one of those first on the premises, manning his station at the entrance to the state capitol parking lot before the first legislator even pulls up for session. Here, he monitors the barricades for any unauthorized entrants or suspicious activity.

He outstays every lawmaker from the first 9 a.m. meeting to special sessions stretching to midnight, “always ready and willing to serve,” according to Chief Sergeant at Arms Clarence “Smoke” Russ. And he does it with a smile.

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“Our bakers work through the night, so when I pull into the parking lot, sometimes it’s early enough to still smell that fresh bread smell.” — Mike Broussard

Known affectionately to some customers as Mr. Mike, manager Mike Broussard is the first one in almost every morning at Our Daily Bread on Florida Boulevard before it opens at 8 a.m. Coffee in hand, he uses a tablet and a digital system to keep up with the stock of more than a dozen freshly baked breads, granola bars, muffins, house-made jams and spreads and an entire full-service cafe.

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This article was originally published in the July 2018 issue of 225 Magazine.