NOLA Chapter 5....The End

This would be our last full day in New Orleans.

I couldn't think of a better way to spend it, then touring plantations.

I had been waiting to take this tour for 10 years!

[Chelise and Elise went on the tour for their first time 10 years ago.  They told of all the amazing history and beauty.  

We couldn't wait to share the experience together]

Our 'Limo" bus arrived at 10 am to load us all up.

This was an unexpected treat!!!

WOO WOO!

There was a wrap around lounger, stripper pole, stereo system,  mini bar, mirrors on the ceiling, and rope lighting all throughout.

This funbus-limo-skank-it-up-mobile  was

bow chica wow wow 

straight out of the early 90's!!!

And we would be passengers for the next (on and off) 7 hours!

[Chelise became the entertainment commity chairperson.  

Elected by default since there were no other candidates in the running. 

She informed all guests that she would be DJ for the afternoon, 

and if they were lucky she would become pole dancer by eve.]

Our plantation tour consisted of two plantations for $95.

Our first stop:

Oak Alley

Named Oak Alley because of the quarter mile of 300 year old Virginia Live Oaks.  There are 28 oaks in two equal rows spaced 80 feet apart leading to the river on the opposite end of the house.

The largest of the oaks has a girth of 30 feet and a 127-foot spread of limbs.

Long steel poles are used to assist the tree in holding it's own weight.

The 'Big House' 

(which is what it is called being that there were many houses on the plantation: 

The Overseer's House, the House for  the Garconnieres, and the slave quarters.)

This house was a gift from Jacques Telesphore Roman, a wealthy Creole sugar planter, to his bride Celina.  It was constructed primarily by slave labor and took three years to complete.

There are many doors along the patio.  They are strategically thought out and positioned for the river's breeze to flow through.  They are all very tall, yet narrow. The small door knobs are closer to the bottom.  The average height of a person in the early 1800's was a little over 5' with a small frame.

Hence, the daintiness of the fixtures.

This is a Punkah fan [I believe that was the name, although I'm not totally sure] that hangs over the dining table.

The canvas at the bottom pushes the air as the rope attached to the wood frame is pulled to move the fan back and forth.

The rope would have been pulled by a slave.

Please watch as Elise demonstrates.

She is a slave to many things, 

and is used to hard non-paid work.

She did the job without error.

Do you know how the 'Table Spoon' came about???

Well, let me just tell you then.

Cutlery was made of pure silver.

The larger the silver spoon next to the dinnerware,

 the more influence (money) your family has.

There will be a quiz at the end of this chapter.....

just to make sure you are paying attention.

I found the 'prayer chair' at the foot of the bed interesting.

 Beds were made of moss and horse hair.

[OMG!! Can you imagine the smell?? 

And we thought sleeping with our farty dudes was bad! 

A sheet 'dutch oven' aint got nuthin on this!

 Try sleeping with horse shit hair and swamp plant! 
uck!! 
great....now I'm all itchy just thinking about it.]
The slaves would spend hours each day rolling out the bed with the big rolling pin that detached from the headboard.

Homes were not built with the kitchen inside.  

Kitchens were positioned off premises due to fire hazards.

Also a little known fact:  

After a week in NOLA your arms get as fat as the Oak tree branches.

Luckily we are standing by a huge Sugar Kettle that will maybe distract peoples eyes from the arm and boobage weight gain.

[oh dear Lord.  help me!]

The Sugar Kettles were made of cast iron and were vital to the process of making molasses and crystallized sugar.

These days, they make beautiful planters and mini water ponds for lily pads.

The plantation is in the process of rebuilding the slave quarters at Oak Alley.

The construction will use the same materials, techniques and style as used in the original.

I couldn't get over the plaque that named all the slaves, their children, and their worth in dollars.

Wow.  It leaves me speechless.

BTW: Since you can't see the rest of the plaque, I should let you know that the house slaves were worth the most.  

Some of the field slaves were only worth $20.

At the bottom of the plaque were the slave definitions of their race.

You just know that to have Mulatto/Mulattress children, one of the 'whities'  had their way with a Negress slave.

I would assume that the slave would be at fault for that one too.

Can you even believe we lived like this??

Owned people.

Dehumanized.

Put prices on their head.

This is part of my son's heritage.

How do you explain that to a young boy who is confused by life anyway?

We all made it back to the stripper mobile, and headed to plantation #2.

The Laura Plantation

This continues to be a working cane plantation.

The hand grooved wooden joists with wood pegs are still what holds this house above the ground.

Again, all done with slave labor.

Back in the day....a man would propose marriage to a woman by giving her a bling-ed out hand held fan.

If she opens the fan and waves it to her face, then she accepts.

[I think that's how the story goes.

 I was starting to get a lil sleepy....

I think I tuned out for a minute as my brain took a nappie and my eyes were glazed open.  

Must have been the strong mint juleps we drank at the last plantation.]

You can feel a weird energy in this place.

Maybe it's because we heard the tale of a young girl (16) who died while they were trying to medically treat her for acne.  

The girl's mother could not accept her death.  

She hung her daughter's picture above a mantel in the main room of the home.  

She never left that room for the rest of her life (40 years).

So yah, a little creepy!

There are still 18 slave shacks located on the property.

We weren't able to tour the grounds because a HUGE rain/thunder/lightning storm came rolling in.

[notice the dark clouds in the picture]

The drops were the size of quarters and drenched our clothing within seconds.

The ride home on the skank-stank bus was real fun after that!

We were all wet, cold and the escape hatch on the top of the bus leaked!!!!

Water sporadically poured down on the people sitting on each side of the roof window.

Chelise was one of the victims.  

She spent the rest of 1 1/2 hours riding like potato bug all curled up in a ball.

The rain laid inches of water on the freeway.

People were pulled off to the side hoping to wait out storm.

BUT NOT US!!!

NO SIReeeBOB!!

We were taking that whore bus all the way regardless of how much water we had to navigate through or wear.

There were times I was wondering if we were in the midst of some kind of Katrina round 2.

Apparently, these kind of storms happen ALL the time!

FREAKY TEAKY I tell ya!

This gave Chelise the opportunity she had been waiting for all week long!!!

The girl was determined to use her pocket poncho on this trip 

AT LEAST ONCE!

[you really can only use it once because you can never get it back in the package!!!]

Successful!!!

"Look at me!! I'm a full body condom!"

Elise and I enjoy an umbrella.

We don't do cellophane.

And now we all are prepared and READY!!!!

Bring on those rain drops bitch!

We decided to have our last moments reminiscing the week at our favorite little dive.

I Heart Igor's!!!

yup!!!!

Looking like hood-rats shows that we totally fit in and belong there!

We are inducted into the Igor's hall of fame now and forever as,

"the best lookin gals in the bar!"

[yes, standards are VERY low at Igor's.]

Nola Day 5~Humbled, thankful, in awe of the week, grateful for my life's experiences, and adolescently screaming,

"NO!! I'M NOT GOING HOME!!!!

Just one more day...PLEEEEEEZ!!

We were in the taxi to depart to the airport by 7:30 am the next morning.

It's always painful for me to have to rip my arms off of  Chelise and Elise.

Leaving NOLA and leaving my girls behind was the first tearful low point that I had experienced that entire week.

We gave our loves and goodbyes, 

and vowed to keep each other and NOLA in our hearts.......

until we return again.

The End


**Psych!!!! I was teasing about the cutlery quiz.
***This book WILL NOT be made into a movie....
well, unless Meryl Streep, Drew Barrymore, and J-WoW agree to sign the contract that I sent to their agents.


Read prior chapters:
Nola Chapter 4
Nola Chapter 3
Nola Chapter 2
Nola Chapter 1
Nola Introduction

NOLA Chapter 4

*note:  blogger decided to do some kind of update while I was writing this......which totally FUBARRED the pics and wording!!!  Please try not to throw your paperweight at the monitor.

I started this day by having a good chug of the pink stuff.

My stomach didn't cooperate so well......

 pretty much through the entire New Orleans stay.

It's nothing new really.

My intestines are big fat rude meanies to me :( They like to torture my good time especially  if I choose to eat anything other then lettuce and tasteless fiber.  I've gone to eating  a loofah 3 times a day.  It cleanses the esophagus as it scrapes  its way on down.  Luckily I've found that chasing a loofah lunch with beer softens the pain of the process.

Beer cures everything!

Well, unless your problem is beer.....

then......well, don't listen to me.

We had scheduled a $45 city tour for the day.

The temp was predicted to be 85 with a butt load of humidity.

(and I mean that in the literal sense!!! svetty, svetty bum!)

A hat for my  'shizzle my frizzle' hair, 

and airy clothing for the sweaty pits was mandatory!!! 

Our bus promptly picked us up in front of our hotel at 10:30 am.

The tour guide/bus driver had us all a little perplexed with his/her gender.

At first glance......it looka- lika- man.

The long chin whiskers, gold teeth, corn rows, neck tattoos, men's loafers, belt, slacks, tie, and white shirt was causing me err on the side of 'dude'.

But there was just a certain mannerism and a tone to the voice that made me question what my true conclusion of gender would be.

After much analysis, I placed my bet on female.

She introduced herself as Detrick, but invited us to call her Dee.

She was funny, kind, welcoming and a great conversationalist.

We all were mesmerized by her words from the start.

We initially drove in one big city circle to pick up passengers from a variety of locations.  Once the bus was full, we started the tour back in the Garden District.   Since we had done our own walk through the district two days before, we were able to relate the history that Dee was teaching us now with the scenery we had previously observed.

From the Garden District we headed for the City Park. 

The New Orleans City Park is the 6th largest and 7th most visited urban park in the US.

It is 50% larger than Central Park in NYC!!!  It also holds the largest collection of live oak trees.  Some of the trees are older than 600 years. It's founding in 1853 makes it one of the oldest parks in the country.  The flood waters from Katrina and the levee breach, covered the park in 1-10 foot of water for four weeks. There was extensive damage to the park including 1,000 toppled trees.

The park is recovering.

It's so very grand, peaceful and spectacular with many botanical shapes throughout.

The Spanish moss clothes the trees in a beautiful shawl.

Caterpillars are everywhere!!

Oak trees become infested with them in the Spring months.

These 'Buck Moth' Caterpillars are highly warned against because of their sting of poisons through their body spines!!!!!

[WHO KNEW?!?!??]

One landed on my foot and it felt like a bite, then Elise had one on her neck and it continued to burn the rest of the day.   As you can see in the above picture, we were not told of the warnings, and continued to touch the damn things even after we had been stung!  I only found out about their poisonous glands from the internet while doing this post!!!!

Along with beautiful walkways, bridges and gardens, the park has artwork in the form of statues.

I will do my best to give you the following statue's name.

[disclaimer: this may be or probably is not the true name of said statue.  But it should be!!! because whatever it's true name is....is totally stupid, and they should have went with my name ideas!

WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE NOT ASKING MY OPINION???!?!?

I thought I made myself clear to run things by me FIRST!  Geez!] 

I call this one:  

The Kim Kardashian Collection

[one man standing, and about 20 men squatting on top of the other]

I call this one: 

"Get your head out of my ass infinity"

I call this one: 

"Beware of climbing the corporate ladder....

the top may be deceiving.

I call this one: 

The 69-er

I call this one:  

Man with large.................hands

And my favorite.......

The sit and spin

Artists and musicians are gathered in an outdoor forum for audiences to leisurely sit or walk and enjoy the entertainment.

Surrounding the area, is water....I don't' really know what to call it....a lazy river? a small lake?

It was beautiful to see three ladies enjoying a gondola ride with a real gondolier on this lazyriverlake.

After about an hour, Dee herded us back to the bus.

I was thankful for the smidge of air conditioning that lightly skiffed my face.  The outside humidity was a KILLER and I thought my pores were going to die from expanding to accommodate the sweat drench.  It's not really sweat though, it's this bizarre wetness that is continually damp and itchy and made me feel like a dirty mop bucket.

I can't even imagine living in this kind of sauna in the mid summer months!

If Hell had a Hell, 

and that Hell had a Hell, 

I assume it would be the same temp as NOLA in July.

From the park we toured our second cemetery [I think it was one of the St. Louis cemeteries.], and then from there we proceeded to the lower 9th ward.

This is the part in my story that has had me stumped from writing this post.

The lower 9th ward changed me. 

How do I merge the feeling of my changed soul into your body? 

I've antagonized about how to get my experience to hit your heart personally in less then 100,000 words.

The impact and importance of what happened,  and continues to happen to people IN OUR OWN COUNTRY, is too momentous to condense and minimize.

Unfortunately, due to my own time and lack of characters that blogger will allow in one single post, I will keep it as short as I can, by giving you pinpoints and actual verbiage and experiences from survivors.

From there, I ask you to please research more on your own.

Support NOLA and it's rebuilding process....

even if it's by being a tourist.  

Feel the love, loss, and perseverance of our brothers and sisters.  

Let them fill your heart with compassion and empathy.  

Then...... spread the word.

The lower 9th ward

As you enter this area, you see devastation that has been sitting for 6 years. 

Homes that are still existing, are boarded up and marked with an X meaning that it has been searched.

[This is something that dropped my jaw in disbelief.  

You have no idea how this leaves you breathless until you see it with your own eyes.  

It is virtually going through a cemetery that has never been given the proper burial or respect to those who are no longer in this community.....

whether it be by evacuation, or death.

It's sad and inexcusable!]

It's eerie and haunting reading the information within the X.

Some homes had more then one, meaning it had been searched probably during flood waters, and then again after subdued waters.

The markings at the top of the X reads the date it was searched.

To the left, is the quadrant the home was searched.

The right shows hazards such as gas leaks, infestations or dead animals.

And the bottom indicates how many bodies were evacuated.

A fractional notation would be made if there were both dead and alive removed , with the number of persons alive on top

 (example: 2/5).

[I found this picture on the internet for reference.  

It is the actual barge that broke the levee.]

Hurricane Katrina wasn't as severe as they had predicted.

The hurricane itself did not flood New Orleans, but the lack of staffed personnel to man the drainage pumps, and the breach in the levee by a barge that had broke free were the culprits. 

This is the rebuilt levee that is now 15 feet.

The original levee was 12 feet.

The flood waters were over 25 feet.

Apparently the government either 

#1~ couldn't do the math, or  

#2~ doesn't give a shit about the 9th ward.

[I vote for #2]

They would not give the authority or moneys to build the levee to at least the height of the proven flood waters.

15 feet doesn't mean shit!

OH!! This gets me fired up! 

Just one more thing to tell the NOLA people,

"you do not matter".

[The small yellow square in the middle is the area where the barge hit.  There will eventually be a memorial mural painted on the levee in this exact spot.]

Dee stopped in front of this small cement pad .

It was surrounded by so much vegetation, that it looked like a giant Chia Pet.

She looked back at us through her rear view and said, 

"this is were my home was."

She continued to tell us how this used to be an entire neighborhood with homes that were washed away.

The day of the hurricane she woke to her phone ringing and two inches of water in her house.

It was her mother calling to say that she was on her way over so that they could group together to evacuate.  Minutes later, the front door to Dee's home is gushed open with a wave of water and her mother riding on top of it.  They were able to get out of the home and wade through the waste high water momentarily.  Their end goal was to make it to a bridge that they could see in the distance.  Within minutes they were being washed down the street in 25 feet of water.

[she was walking when the barge hit the levee and the flood gushed]

Dee had never learned to swim.....

until this day when her life counted on it.

Dee drove slowly as she continued regaling her story.

We drove for another 3 miles and she once more stopped in front of a home.

"This is where me and 13 other people landed on the roof of this house for nearly three weeks until we were rescued."

She also told of the modes of survival in those three weeks along with the police corruption and violence.

I'm going to post a script that Chelise composed for her writing class.

It is a true account of Dee's words......

Dee- *“I saw those killins wit my own eyes.  Ain’t ever seen nothing like it before….”

Jolie- “If it’s too painful, we could talk about it another time?”

Dee- *“Naw, people needs to know what happened.  They needs to know how we was all treated.   There was no law, no help and we was all stuck.  Just waiting; waiting for either the helicopters or boats to come get us.  We was waiting on that rooftop for three weeks.  Three weeks!  No food, water; nothing.”

Jolie- “Oh my God, Dee!  I am so sorry…”

Dee- *“Some peoples decided to swim for the bridge and there was others, on the bridge already.  Some po-lice had shown up and we was thinkin they were there to help. They went on up to em, to ask em for some help, and them po-lice shot em all; just shot ‘em all for no reason.  They wasn’t even carryin guns; just lookin for some food and water.

Jolie- “What happened after they were shot?”

Dee-* “Who ever wasn’t dead or wounded runned as fast as they could.  We all thought “If the po-lice are shootin everyone, whose gonna help us?” “ It was a real sad day. We saw those po-lice breaking into ATM machines, stealing cars, beatin on people.  It was sick!”

Jolie- (With tears in hers eyes) “Dee, I am so sorry you had to live through something as traumatizing as this.  I am so thankful to have met a survivor of Katrina.  Thank you for sharing your story with me. Dee, have you ever talked with anyone about that day?  I mean, like a counselor?"

Dee-* “Naw, it don’t change nothing.  Is what it is, ya know.  Down here, there still is no law.  They can’t be trusted.  We rely on ourselves and you form bonds with those who have influence and you have to pay them for protection.  I don’t like it, but it is.  Life is hard here.  Real hard.  Talkin, sometimes just don’t help.  Helpin is to move; far from here and raise my son in a place where he can just be a kid.  Don’t have to watch his back all the time.  Naw, you can’t call on the law for protection here.  We need protection from them.”

 

 When the evacuation process did begin, people were treated like less-than-animals.

If a bus' capacity was 40, and you were standing in line with your family to board the bus, but you were #41, they would direct you to board another bus.  You do not know where you are going.  You do not know where your family is going.  You have no phone, legal paperwork, ID, [because your life has been washed away] or know how to contact your family that is on a bus heading the opposite direction from you.

[I'm sure you all heard of the horrible treatment and crimes committed in the Super dome too.]

Our own country was at war with itself by turning it's head to humanity.  And to this day, the 9th ward is still a war zone.

Shame! Shame! Shame!

I feel shame toward our government and lack of expansive efforts to have not been made and completed for these people of NOLA....

for all the people of this country.

It was easier to send our troops to other countries in planes to kill, but they couldn't be sent in planes to our own people to save lives???

Brad Pitt's foundation, "Make it right" shows progress in it's rebuilding goal.

 

He hired architects and contractors that allowed the home owner to design their home to their own specs. 

 What does this do????

It creates a sense of pride!!!

It is respect.

Many people built their homes on a barge base.  When the flood waters come back, they will simply pull the lever that releases a anchor in the ground's foundation, and float along with the current.

The only requirements are the allowed square footage, and an escape hatch through the ceiling.  

[Many people died due to no way to escape their home.]

Celine Dion donated 1 million dollars for rebuild and relief help.  When she asked where the money specifically went toward, nobody had an answer.  She demanded her money back in cash.  She and her team personally handed out the money knowing it was going to the people.........

the people of NOLA who it was intended for.

Oprah, Harry Connick Jr. and many other celebrities stepped up and used their own finances and reputation to assist.

I have a new found respect for these people.

[Sorry Celine Dion for being such a hater...it's only your music and your facial expressions I don't like.  But I really like your compassion and generosity.  

Thank you.]

[Has anyone seen this documentary????

This is on my list of must see's.]

The tragic events that hit New Orleans on August 29, 2005, will never be forgotten.  The reminders are blatant.

But the NOLA people are strong.

They want to rebuild.

They want their city back.

They want to feel safe again.

They want to raise their families here as generation have before.

They won't give up......

All they ask, is that the rest of America doesn't either.

I could seriously go on and on with stories and facts. 

But I won't.....a girl's gotta know when to call it.

So I will end Chapter 4 in the same way Chelise and I ended that emotional day......

with bad hair and a beer in my hand.

Cheers NOLA.

I love you!

Nola Day 4~Bittersweet symphony