Like many Louisiana natives, a torrent of disaster befell Griffin in the mid-2000s. Hurricane Katrina, Rita, Ike, and Gustav came, followed by the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. Griffin turned his lodge into a housing facility for BP workers, running boats filled with meals to mop-up sites throughout the region.
When things settled, the Griffins hopped in a RV and took a vacation. They set the GPS to Durango, Colorado, but only made it Frisco when Belinda’s back gave out. This turned out to be a one-way booking.
Griffin is often asked what prompted him to start The Lost Cajun. It's a simple query, really. Griffin was, truly, a lost Cajun. Not only did the concept feel smartly and opportunistically out of place, but also Griffin had no idea what he was doing.
“I was a babe in the woods,” he says.