|
|
|
L U M E N N E W S
I N S P I R A T I O N * I N F O R M A T I O N * I N V I T A T I O N
A P R I L , 2 0 1 4
*
|
SISTERS, SAINT THOMAS CHURCH, POINTE A LA HACHE, LOUISIANA
SPICY GUMBO, CRAWFISH PIE, HURRICANES, AND SOUTHERN CHARM
Two weeks ago, I returned from a memorable, nine day, 1,800 mile road trip through Louisiana, Mississippi, and a touch of Alabama.
Sprawling plantations, meandering bayous, dusty cotton and cornfields, sandy beaches, small rural towns, spicy chicken and sausage gumbo, tiny churches, more tiny churches, fresh shrimp, crab, and alligator meat, trailer parks, fried channel catfish, massive oak trees, white chocolate bread pudding, houses on stilts and dirt mounds, hot crawfish pie, the legendary Mississippi River, compelling stories from survivors of "Katrina" and "Rita," inner cities in decay, old pickup trucks in all colors and shapes, fresh berry cobblers, historic celebrations and serendipitous connections, American flags and patriotism, gusty winds, hot sun, scattered rain, and a frenetic party known to many as the "French Quarter of New Orleans" greeted me.  OAK ALLEY PLANTATION, VACHERIE, LOUISIANA
This was a colorful journey without a plan.
I flew into New Orleans and met a Canadian friend who is also a photographer.
We rented a car and headed south on less traveled roads to the far tip of Louisiana, a section of land stretching into the Gulf of Mexico near Venice, an area devastated by Hurricane "Katrina." (Map with overall route below)
From there, we traveled northeast along the Mississippi coast to Dolphin Island and the city of Mobile in Alabama.
Then, we worked our way northwest to the town of Natchez in Eastern Mississippi. We toured mansions and spent a few hours on the acclaimed "Natchez Trace Road" before heading north on Hiway 61, known to some music historians as the "Blues Trail."
Next, we rolled across the Mississippi River into central Louisiana and worked our way south to "Creole Country" (near Lafayette). Next, we turned east for a Saturday and Sunday in New Orleans.  MEMORIES OF KATRINA AND RITA, M & W MACHINE SHOP, ROUTE 82, LOUISIANA
For the great majority of this trip, we rolled down small country roads and picked a route "on-the-fly." We stopped often and introduced ourselves to strangers we met along the way. We heard compelling tales, touched a bit of community, culture, and history, and gained new perspectives.
At the end of each day, we looked for an evening meal and an inexpensive place to sleep. The next morning, the adventure restarted.
We were not entirely alone. When requested, Siri's calm voice (the iPhone's GPS), TripAdvisor's ratings and critiques, and helpful gas station staff became trusted partners.
This was a big, glorious, uncertain wander. Serendipity lent a hand.  THE ROUGH ROUTE - LOUISIANA, MISSISSIPPI, AND ALABAMA
We witnessed beauty and destruction, the aftermath of a hurricane's power, poverty and opulence, joy and yearning, old buildings with rich histories deeply tied to the land, rural settings that seemed stuck in time, modern development, neighborhoods in transition, and the resiliency of community and the human spirit.
In southern Louisiana and Alabama, the memories and impact of "Katrina" and "Rita" linger deep. The BP oil spill touched many lives as well. Much of southern Mississippi's coast has been rebuilt with shiny hotels, white sand, and casinos that are mixed in with old homes that survived the storms and touches of rubble. A visitor in all of these areas is struck by massive differences from county to county. Two communities just miles apart often appear radically different in recovery and spirit.
Throughout our travels, one experience remained consistent - the warmth, generosity, openness, and authenticity we found in all the people we met. Truly memorable. On a number of occasions, we spent hours with new "friends" learning about their experiences and lives, touring their homes, exploring their neighborhoods.
Often, we found ordinary folks with extraordinary stories.
I had a camera in tow - part of an effort to learn how to use some new tools and prepare myself for upcoming documentary and editorial projects. A few moments are shared below.
I was fortunate to make this journey.
Best wishes to you,
Jeff
TALES FROM THE TRAIL
Super Sunday ... New Orleans
Once a year, the African American communities in New Orleans come together from across the city to celebrate the Native Americans' (Indians') engagement in the freeing of slaves and ongoing developments toward equal rights. This annual event just happened to line up with our schedule. Elements of secrecy surround this event. As far as I learned, the Mardi Gras Indian Councils (50 "tribes") meet privately and work all year long on personalized costumes that reflect a vision of the past and future and each member's role in their tribe. Many outfits are hand-made with thousands and thousands of sequins and brightly colored feathers and masks. Each participant takes on a new identity such as "Spy Boy," "Big Chief Of The Mohawk Hunters," or "Wild, Wild, Moss Man" and joins a parade through the streets of the inner city competing with other "Indians" and local tribes for attention and expression. It's an unusual, somewhat surreal, mysterious, colorful party with a deeper meaning. 
"WILD, WILD MOSS MAN," MOHAWK HUNTERS, SUPER SUNDAY, NEW ORLEANS  SUPER SUNDAY, TRIBAL PARADE, NEW ORLEANS
SUPER SUNDAY, TRIBAL PARADE, NEW ORLEANS
 "SPY BOY," MOHAWK HUNTERS, SUPER SUNDAY
 SUPER SUNDAY, TRIBAL PARADE, NEW ORLEANS
SUPER SUNDAY, TRIBAL PARADE, NEW ORLEANS
The majority of the Super Sunday event is focused on pure celebration. The venue, however, is in one of the rougher neighborhoods of New Orleans - the Central City District (near the 9th Ward). Despite playful festivities, racial tensions are highly evident. Mobile bars with talented alcohol mixers appear on street corners; music blasts from small marching bands, stereo systems, and cars; the smell of pot floats through the air; families and small groups of young men and women gather. It's a scene. During my visit, the police were out in force - in cars, on motorcycles, on horses, on foot, and in isolated command centers. The image below reflects the tense relationship between police and the African American community in New Orleans. A police truck has driven into a playground within this dominantly African American neighborhood. Officers are positioned behind dark, smoked glass in an elevated cabin to observe the activity - a scene much like a prison yard. Imagine playing with your children below this viewing station.  POLICE OBSERVATION STATION, SUPER SUNDAY CELEBRATION
I was by myself at the Super Sunday celebration exploring the Central City neighborhood. As I walked on nearby streets, roughly half of the buildings seemed abandoned.
ABANDONED BUILDING, CENTRAL CITY AREA, NEW ORLEANS
"Katrina" and a tough economy have left a dark mark. Stories of muggings in the local cemetery and side streets came forward. I didn't see or meet a single White, Hispanic, or Asian person anywhere outside of the parade route. I was warned by police to be highly cautious. Even in the carnival atmosphere, the officers seemed jumpy and afraid. The area held a reputation for violence. Yet, my experience was quite positive. I introduced myself to a number of residents and heard stories of the storms and city life while sharing time near a backyard barbeque, a hopped up car, a mobile bar, and a street corner. Tero's Perspective ...
Early in the day, I introduced myself to a man selling alcohol on the street, a twenty-six-year-old, articulate rapper named "Tero." He shared his views about the "Light Blues" (the police standing nearby in light blue shirts) and the city's recovery from the storms. Tero's full, expressive language is not appropriate for this note. I will simply say he spoke about a long history of challenges and mistrust. He was in an area near the ninth ward when "Katrina" hit. Devastation. 
TERO, 26 YEARS OLD, RAPPER, CENTRAL CITY PARISH, NEW ORLEANS
Today, Tero is working to build a music empire. He is all about sharing and living "the truth of the inner city." He smiled when he shared some uplifting news. His next album will be produced by one of the producers of Jay-Z's recent albums.
Southern Louisiana ...
JEWEL PRICE, 63 YEARS OLD, BURAS, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
Jewel (pronounced "Joel") is a strong willed, semi-retired handyman. At nine years old, he started work on an old fishing boat in the Gulf of Mexico. He helped his father catch shrimp and catfish. Ten years later, he started his own business for local companies as a carpenter, a plumber, an electrician, and handyman - whatever services were needed. He shared stories from years of working sixteen hours a day seven days a week.
At fifty years old, he had an accident that changed his life. He fell out of a tree and damaged his neck. He laughed and said: "They should put bright warning signs on tall trees for people who weigh over three hundred pounds. Avoid climbing this tree. Danger."
Today, he works part-time as a lawn mower and home appliance repairman.
Jewel survived "Katrina" and "Rita" and several other major hurricanes. He spoke about the destruction and the government's response to the major storms nine years ago. His house was leveled to nothing but rubble and debris. He lost almost everything he had during the storm (before and after pics of his previous home below).
In his view, most of the damage was not caused by the hurricanes "Katrina" and "Rita," but by two hundred and sixteen tornadoes that blew through the area during and after the storm. He said it's much more difficult to collect insurance reimbursement and FEMA support from tornadoes than from flood damage and hurricanes. Thus, Jewel says "no one talks about the real cause of most losses."
He scoffs at the corruption and inefficiency within the government's response to the storms. Let's just say he believes in America and Americans, lacks trust toward politicians, worries about the state of Louisiana's youth, and recognizes the power of greed and profit. He watched millions and millions of public dollars pour into local construction projects that make no sense to him.
He remembers the storms vividly. He spoke about the community's resiliency and, despite sustained weather risks, his love for the area where he lives. He mentioned his discomfort with the way people's values shift when their survival is threatened. He watched people steal and "act like animals" in the aftermath of "Katrina" and "Rita."
It turns out, one of his greatest personal losses during the hurricane was his collection of little frog figurines, which were all swept away. He smiled and told us he had close to 8,500 prized frog pieces in his home when Katrina hit. All gone. Yes. Passion has many forms. His new home (shown above with the American flag) is roughly 800 square feet in size. After "Katrina," the government demanded that he purchase flood insurance for this new structure. Unfortunately, this type of insurance would cost Jewel roughly $8,000 a year. Reality: Jewel lives on a social security check of roughly $800 a month and a bit of income from his appliance and lawn mower repair business. So, he sent a note to the local government office with bids from three insurance companies and mentioned his financial challenge. He smiled, shook his head, and said: "I am still waiting for their response." For now, he is staying put without any insurance. Storms, in his opinion, are just part of life. "You take the good with the bad."
DAMAGE FROM KATRINA AND RITA HURRICANES, SOUTHERN LOIUSIANA
It's been nine years since "Katrina" and "Rita" slammed into the Louisiana and Mississippi coast. Today, one still finds many lingering memories.
Property owners have several choices. In Louisiana, many previous residents left the area permanently. Others chose to rebuild. This choice required homeowners to meet new building codes. I was told these codes require most homes to be on stilts twelve to fifteen feet above the roads or for homes to be built on dirt and stone mounds that meet similar requirements. These shifts in code alone can cost $40,000 to $60,000 for a home builder. Some homes have been rebuilt with these considerations. For many home owners, however, these new codes and building constraints are too expensive and create insurmountable challenges. To start with, in heavy winds, a wooden home on stilts may not be particularly attractive. Through my eyes, the stilts often look like toothpicks from afar. The other option for land owners is to avoid building and instead bring trailers onto the property.  Thus, today, much of southern Louisiana looks like a trailer park. Many, many coastal communities are living out of beat up, partially stable, mobile homes.  TRAILER COMMUNITY, ROUTE 82, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
It's odd. When traveling through this part of the country, one moves in and out of reminders from "Katrina" and "Rita" and areas where the land seems to be fully recovered. 
OAK MEADOW, NEAR SAINT THOMAS CHURCH, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA Almost every individual we met had a story from the storms. Many experiences were life changing.
I will not forget one of the women we met in Cameron Parish on Route 82 along the coast of Louisiana. Her name is T Mae Booth. I was drawn to her spirit immediately. She is full of life and passion and connection. As a visitor, you feel her warmth and interest in people.
T MAE BOOTH, 86 YEARS OLD, GROCERY STORE OWNER, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
Her husband passed away in 1953. She made a decision to start a grocery store, named Booth's Grocery, in 1957. Apparently, the store became a community hub through time. She fled after "Katrina" finished, just before "Rita" hit the Louisiana coast. She stayed far away from her property for several weeks at a relative's ranch. When she returned to the coast and her general store, nothing was left but bare dirt and bits of scrap metal. This was difficult to see and embrace, yet she knew she had to move on. For a period of time, she lived by herself in a FEMA trailer. Then, her daughter and a few friends helped her create a new building that could serve as Booth's Grocery on a dirt mound on her property. She restarted her business. Relationships endured. The little store is a vibrant point of connection for the community. Today, her new two bedroom home is connected to a door at the back of the store. She lives, works, and entertains in the same building. This is "old school" grocery at its best. Turns out, T Mae's son is an alligator hunter, yet she doesn't like the taste of gator - her face displayed this clearly when she described this southern food option. Her daughter works in a town to the north. T Mae is in love with her work and the people she cares for. She opens the store at 6 AM six days a week and closes the store at 7 PM. On Sundays, she works a slightly shorter day so that she can go to church. We joked about the sustained 85 hour work week she produces year after year. She smiled and spoke of her joy interacting with friends and travelers from all over the world. She reflected on the gravel roads that existed during her youth and the many changes in her community over time. It turns out her world is quite large. She has been to India twice, Mexico, Canada, and every state in the U.S. She holds the excitement of a child with a new lollypop when she discusses the beauty of travel and the experience of meeting new people. I think she will live to be 120 years old. I won't be surprised if she beats me up the steps to her store if I return for a visit. She has some magic in her soul. There is something quite powerful within the connection she feels to her community and the sense of purpose she feels for her work.
Central Mississippi ...
BILL ROGERS, 77 YEARS OLD, SILVER CREEK, MISSISSIPPI
Midway through our trip, we rolled along a small country road in central Mississippi. The hot sun baked the ground. Big trees surrounded us on all sides. As we broke into a clearing, I noted an old, white, wooden home in a meadow with a smokey trash can in the front yard. Ah, this place had character. I had to stop.
We pulled over on the grass shoulder of the road and walked slowly back toward the home. As I approached, a tall man with a flowing white beard came bounding through the doorway. I introduced myself. From there, a long and deep conversation began.
Bill Rogers. Seventy-seven years old. Turns out, his great, great grandfather purchased this land in 1820 (after the War of 1812). The land was a cotton patch for generations. A historic passage way, Saint Stevens Road, used to pass through the plantation. Thirteen slaves supported the operation in the 1800s. Today, the farm is just fifty acres. It was much larger in full form - nearly seven hundred acres.
Bill spends his winters on this land. He rents most of the acreage to a local farmer. His summers are spent in Colorado mining for gold. His needs are simple. Yet, his creativity, opinions, and playfulness are substantial. For example, he beamed when he shared the story of his new hot water heater. It's solar. Midday, he fills a long rubber hose up with water and lays it out on the lawn in the warm Mississippi sunlight. Then, after the water gets "bake-in hot," he creates a pot of shower water. He says this approach works well unless the weather gets too warm. Then, he has to be patient. He shook his head and said he sometimes burns himself. Invention has its challenges.
Note the circular shower curtain in the corner of his bathroom (below). Bill pointed out this recent innovation - all the water is captured for "re-wash."
BILL ROGER'S INNER CABIN, SILVER CREEK, MISSISSIPPI
Bill's taxes on this fifty acre property are $168 a year. He likes that number.
My eyes opened wide when he shared the story of his career. He worked as a farmer in his early years and then applied for a job with Honeywell and GE. Computers were just starting to be built and used. He remembers Thomas Watson's (IBM lore) quote about the future: "There is a clear worldwide market for at least five to seven computers." He laughed as he shared tales of his efforts to help fix early stage computers, machines run with vacuum tubes. He said two hours of "up-time" was considered a major success. He was "on-call" seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day.
 BILL ROGER'S INNER CABIN, SILVER CREEK, MISSISSIPPI The wooden walls in the bedroom picture above were crafted from planks that were cut by hand. There are no nails in this older section of the building - just pegs. "Old school."
Bill spoke of all the tests and training required in the modern world. He spoke of his exhaustion with these relentless challenges. He said there are just two tests he will agree to take in the future - an occasional driver's license test to maintain his independence on the roads and a test to get through the gates of heaven. That's it.
In Colorado, his mining claim, which is quite early in settlement history, allows him to avoid any local legal jurisdiction. Apparently, there are some special provisions for the first claims in the Western United States. As he tells the story, he is the primary law on his own land. You might guess. He likes that notion.
He fears for the future of America. He spoke of the danger of becoming a nation in debt filled with debtors. He spoke about racial issues, taxes, and the need to get our government out of everyone's business. He took us to his family's cemetery. Stories. More stories. I remember one great tale. Bill says his great, great grandfather's first wife died at a fairly young age. This gentleman wanted to marry his first wife's sister. Apparently, she agreed to his proposals under one condition. She demanded that her new suitor pay for gold dentures. If only courting and marriage opportunities were as easy now. Speaking of marriage, Bill recently went through a divorce. He asked me if there was any chance that I might publish his new portrait? He said if there is a way I can get this image into a newspaper or a magazine, to please put a caption on his image that says: "Bill Rogers, Recent Winner Of The Mississippi Lottery Jackpot." This publicity, he hoped, might create a discomforting shock for his ex-wife. After expressing his notion, he broke out into laughter. Natchez ...
NATCHEZ, MISSISSIPPI
The mansions and historic homes in Natchez are quite impressive. Many of these structures are converted to museums and historic sites. Other houses are occupied. The town is situated on a hill overlooking the east edge of the Mississippi River. I am told at the height of U.S. cotton farming there were more millionaires residing in this small area than all of New York City.
COTTON FIELD, HISTORIC PLANTATION, CENTRAL MISSISSIPPI
We found just one field of cotton plants that was still full of the fluffy, puffy white stuff during our trip. Most of the cotton fields were already harvested.
When we arrived at this location (above), my friend asked what this crop might be. I paused and explained how Q-Tips are grown. The hard part, I shared, is getting the stems to remain perfectly round picking the cotton at just the right time to ensure the little puffy tips are consistently in place.
We took time to stand in the cotton field (without breaking any important rules) and listened to the wind blow through the open space. I had just seen the film "Twelve Years A Slave" on my airline trip to New Orleans. When I closed my eyes, I thought of the many, many years these fields were picked by hand and the tensions, human rights issues, and changes that continue in our country.
NATCHEZ CEMETERY, MISSISSIPPI
This sprawling cemetery in Natchez is filled with graves from hundreds of years of history - Civil War heroes, famous land barons, common men. We made a quick visit. One could spend many days exploring the history of this site.
Dolphin Island ...
DOLPHIN ISLAND, ALABAMA
Dolphin Island is quite interesting. Note the beach homes on stilts behind the kids in full play mode. I was told the water level can rise ten to fifteen feet with a major storm and swell over much of the island.
Just over my shoulder (behind me) is eight miles of undeveloped, open beach. We took a long walk into this wind blown space. Loved it.
Back to New Orleans ...
This was my first visit to New Orleans. Much to see and discover. The French Quarter and other sections of the city left a colorful impression.
REX, BEAD SELLER, BOURBON STREET, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
Rex made me laugh. He spoke about the benefits of his new "direct to consumer" business model selling beads.
When we met, he was celebrating fifty bucks of revenue in the first few hours of his demanding evening work schedule. We laughed together. Tough gig.
Bourbon Street presents an odd, frenetic, chaotic, cluster of experiences. There are strip clubs, fine restaurants, bars, coffee shops, hotels, more bars, and a few scattered homes that mix together along this well-known gathering spot.
The rules here are more flexible than many parts of the country. Alcohol and nakedness are common. Apparently, there are limited controls of any kind. I learned, however, that at least one law is firm - it remains illegal to tie an alligator to a fire hydrant in downtown New Orleans. If you visit this fine city, don't do that. Seriously.
On our first evening in New Orleans, I went for a long walk. I turned a corner onto Dauphine Street in the French Quarter and came upon a New Orleans wedding. Music, drinks, dance, umbrellas, and lots of singing. Good fun.
BARBARA AND BRIAN TIE THE KNOT, DAUPHINE STREET, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
Everywhere one looks throughout the French Quarter, history is reflected.
Paint colors and all other aspects of building development are carefully controlled by a commission.
I enjoyed the tattered feel and muted color of some of the French Quarter's buildings.  WOODWORK, FRENCH QUARTER, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
The Southern Louisiana Coast ... Along the coast of Louisiana, one finds farms, small communities, swamps, bayous, and colorful characters.
Paul Breaux fits this mold. We met on the side of a road near his family's farm. He is a multi-skilled professional - farmer, crawfish fisherman, industrial crane operator, and Constable (local Sheriff).
PAUL BREAUX, 49 YEARS OLD, CRAWFISH FARMER, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
He showed us his badge, which he keeps in his wallet and shared stories from his role as elected "local Sheriff." There are roughly 6,000 people in his ward. When there's a conflict, he gets involved.
He was quite happy to share a bit of the history from his family farm and teach us about crawfish and agriculture in Louisiana. When we arrived at this barn, Paul was preparing to take a load of crawfish to market. He smiled and shared his marketing plan. Friday within the period of Lent was just a few days away.
He said: "Y'all know what that means." He was chasing demand. The great majority of residents throughout his town are deeply involved with Lent and will not eat meat on Fridays in late March and early April. Thus, he knows he is hitting a sweet spot for the crawfish market. It's all about timing. Paul figures the crawfish in this white bucket below are worth $350 to $450. He gets about $3.50 a pound. Restaurants pay distributors about $8 a pound.
SHARING A MOMENT, CRAWFISH GOING TO MARKET, LENT, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
One last story from Paul. Apparently, he keeps an extra mailbox handy for the post outside his home. Turns out the drivers in Louisiana sometimes sip a little "brew." Driving both on and off the road is not uncommon. He laughed about the many times he has helped drivers get their cars out of a nearby ditch.
Oak Alley Plantation ...
At the top of the newsletter, I shared an image from Oak Alley Plantation in Louisiana.
The oaks and old plantation mansion at this site are quite stunning. The trees were planted in 1830 and then supplemented in the 1930s.
The Oak Alley Plantation is about an hour to the west of New Orleans. If you have a chance to visit this location, I recommend savoring a few moments of quiet time relaxing under one of the big, sprawling oak trees.  THE BIG TREES, OAK ALLEY, VACHERIE, LOUISIANA
I am not an expert, but I am pretty sure local wisdom is accurate. If you drink three or more mint juleps, walk under these tree limbs, and close your eyes, you are sure to hear whispers from a few of the plantation's noted ghosts.
The coast of Alabama ...We just touched a bit of Alabama's west coast. Old houses are mixed with
shipyards, restaurants, farms, oil and gas refineries, distribution ports, beaches, and open swamps and bayous.
One of the owners of a shipyard spent time with us talking about his craft.
We were told a serious commercial fishing boat often costs about $1,000,000 to design, build, paint, test, and launch. The shipyard shown below handles the entire process from paper design to launch for ten to twelve boats at a time.
Apparently, every three or four years, a ship operating in the Gulf of Mexico needs to be taken out of the water, sandblasted, and repainted. This takes about a week of serious manual labor. This shipyard completes these types of repairs and re-launch commitments as well as new construction.
The sandblasters get paid $12 to $18 an hour to work their hoses and cranes and bear the discomfort of eight to ten hours a day of sand driving into their clothing and against their face mask. Tough, exhausting job. Especially in the hot days of an Alabama summer.
 SANDBLASTING SHIPYARD, SOUTHWESTERN ALABAMA
 DERRILL BROWN, SANDBLASTER EXTRAORDINAIRE, SOUTHWESTERN ALABAMA
An interesting story about "Katrina" evolved in our conversation. At the height of the storm, there were eighteen feet of water in this shipyard. How to save the dozen ships under construction became a huge challenge. The staff made a decision to intentionally punch holes in the hulls of all the ships and allow the boats to fill with water and remain in place within the shipyard as the storm surge rushed in and the water level rose and rose. Then, when the storm weakened and the surge of water rolled back to the Gulf Of Mexico, the hulls were left to dry. All went relatively well. The shipyard's inventory was saved. Clients were delighted. Clever. Creole Country (near Lafayette, Louisiana) ... Fisherman tend to have long days and interesting tales. Randy Jr. fit this profile. His "Fresh Only" stand on the side of the road reflects his many occupations.
He hunts for crabs, shrimp, minnows, alligators, and other swamp critters part of the day and runs his retail seafood business during the remainder of the day.
 FRESH SEAFOOD FROM THE GULF OF MEXICO, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
Randy Jr. said winter days are dark and tough. At this time of the year, he listens to a lot of music and drinks "five or six cold ones" a day. The summer days are long, hot, and hard. He fishes for shrimp at night, crab in the early morning and twilight, and other seafood during the day. He also manages the retail operation. Sleep is neglected. 
RANDY JR, 35 YEARS OLD, SHRIMP FISHERMAN, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
Randy's tats (below) reflect his passion for his business. His stories from childhood, his early adult life, and "Katrina" are quite colorful. When he was five or six years old, his father gave him two dozen traps and encouraged him to stay in school. He hunted muskrat, otter, and minks. In a short time, he was making $300 to $400 each winter selling pelts and seafood. He didn't want to go to school. School was a distraction from his passion - the water and the coast. He tried to be a good student, but felt the pull of his other life. So, Randy Jr. dropped out of school when he was about fourteen and dedicated himself to fishing. He rebuilt an old home he was given on the coast and tried to make ends meet. Many days, he worked eighteen to twenty hours. He needed sustained energy and alertness with little to no rest. Unfortunately, drugs, including coke became an addiction. He spoke about these years, a crazy, frenetic, uncomfortable time in his life. 
RANDY JR'S TATS, SOUTHERN LOUISIANA
Over the years, he became more and more numb to the world. He hit bottom and had to recover. We met him in the midst of his new life - seven years after he broke through his addiction. He is quite open about his transitions. The Discovery Channel is now working on a documentary on the life of southern fishermen. Randy Jr. is one of the stars. In a good summer season, if Randy Jr. works full throttle, he can make $35,000 to $40,000 selling crabs, minnows, and shrimp. He says his visual memory is his greatest trait. He can move through complex bayou and coastline areas just once and immediately develop a map in his mind. He spoke of many concerns and joys. We met a few of his friends and parts of his family. One of his fears is a strong impression that the water in the Gulf is rising each year. He says he can see the coastline being consumed each season. Still, despite the hardships of life as a fisherman, he loves his independence and his life on the water. He said, "I wanna die doing this." Easter is coming ...
While driving through a small, rural community east of Lafayette, we came upon this Easter scene.
PREPARING FOR EASTER CELEBRATION, CORTEZ HOME, LOUISIANA
It turns out these Easter eggs and other decorations are part of Leslie Cortez's annual celebration. 
LESLIE CORTEZ, 45 YEARS OLD, EASTER CELEBRATION PRODUCER, LOUISIANA
Leslie has lived in her trailer home for eighteen years. Her Easter celebration started nine years ago. She wanted to do something big to allow local kids to be happy and excited during the month of April.
Her Easter obsession started nine years ago when she acquired four small plastic eggs and two small bunnies and placed these items in her yard. Her role as Easter Queen emerged. The response was quite positive. Families come from all over her community and nearby communities to see her yard. Today, she has an entire building (a large "shed") on her property dedicated to store her Easter eggs and bunnies. Her smile is radiant when she speaks about the experience of preparing for Easter and the kids' responses. This year, she plans to dress as a pink bunny and ensure her husband wears a large white bunny outfit. He must love his wife deeply! I enjoyed the mix of her soft, southern charm and her concern for the neighborhood mixed with her Bon Jovi T Shirt. Classic. A few more pics from the road ... Many of the fields in Louisiana were quite parched. We were told it had been a relatively dry winter.
DRY CORN FIELD, CENTRAL LOUISIANA
As you drive through Mississippi and Louisiana, many old plantations have maintained small clusters of buildings as a connection to the past.
PLANTATION CHURCH, CENTRAL LOUISIANA
The backroads of Louisiana connect small, quiet towns. We met Lawrence just after he completed a short fishing expedition. He owns a restaurant that specializes in barbequed meat. He loves the NFL and considers himself a passionate member of the "Raider Nation." 
LAWRENCE REMY, BBQ SHOP OWNER, LOUISIANA
At sunset in Natchez, the old, red brick buildings seem to glow. Several hundred years of stories are bundled within these doors and windows. 
OLD WALL, NATCHEZ, MISSISSIPPI
Tero, the rapper I spoke of earlier, introduced me to some of his friends in the Central City District. Darren (below) is part of a local band. Loves music. He can "strike a pose."
DARREN TOWNS, CENTRAL CITY, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
The town of Breaux Bridge is known for its food. Cafe Des Amis is one of the recognized restaurants. The menu includes cheesecake with alligator sausage, fresh crawfish pie, spicy gumbo and many other local specialties. You may enjoy a quick tour of the offerings. Here's a link. 
MEAGHAN, WAITRESS, CAFE DES AMIS, BREAUX BRIDGE, LOUISIANA
Early in the trip, we took a ferry ride across the Mississippi River. It was incredible to see the size of the cargo ships traveling up and down this massive waterway. Dilbert was one of the ferry operators. He had a spark in his eyes when he shared the story of his private business, work he does outside of his government financed job on the ferry. I had the impression he finds joy in each and every day no matter how the chips fall and the day unfolds.
DILBERT ENCALADE, HANDYMAN, POINTE A LA HACHE, LOUISIANA
I finish with a short quote that reminds me of some meal options we considered during this adventure.
That's all grit is, a vehicle. For whatever it is you'd rather be eating.
Kathryn Stockett, The Help
|
|
|
|
|
