Archived Article By Tom Fitzmorris Originally published April 3, 2006 Click here for the current edition Ernest Hansen In 1938, Ernest Hansen built, with his own hands, the most famous sno-ball machine of all time. For the next fifty-five years, he and his wife Mary Hansen used it to churn out, at a measured pace, a product of such quality that it didn't seem right to even call it a sno-ball, lest it be compared with what everybody else made under that name. So it was,. and remains, a Sno-Bliz: ice shaved so fine it really was like snow, flavored with syrups made that day by Mary's own hands. (After she went to the ice house with Ernest to pick up hand-selected blocks of ice, then brought them back to wash them another time.) After they closed the shop each night, they stayed until it and the magic machine had been thoroughly. The slogan of Hansen's Sno-Bliz Shop was "There Are No Short-Cuts To Quality," and they never strayed even a little from that credo. Both were in their nineties this year, but had only recently retired from the daily grind a few years earlier. (Their grandchildren now run the stand, still on Tchoupitoulas and Bordeaux, still with the same untiring machine.) Mary Hansen died right after the hurricane. When I heard that, I knew Ernest would not be far behind. They did everything together; you couldn't so much as think of one of them without also thinking of the other. Ernest Hansen, always in a good mood, always smiling as he looked at you over the tops his thick glasses, the man who replaced the motor on his masterpiece every two years whether it needed to be or not, passed away last Thursday. But he and Mary set a permanent standard, so we'll never forget them. © 2006 Tom Fitzmorris. All rights reserved. news@nomenu.com