The columns are the campus "logo" and are left over from a burned-down home, the Bullard Mansion, which was later a
convent. There was another building here, where I stood to take this photo, that also burned. There's a ghost story, of course...

Next stop: The American Cemetery. It was once the site of the Fort St. Jean Baptiste, and contains some of the oldest
European remains in the Louisiana Purchase.

We were greeted at the gate by a gregarious black cat, whom we promptly named Satan. He escorted us around the cemetery, but when we left, he politely saw us to the gate and bade us farewell.

Honestly, it was very strange. I'd thought nothing new could happen to me in Natchitoches, but I was wrong.

These are crepe myrtles. When they are wet, they look
like twisted, naked human limbs. They make a
beautiful flower in the spring.

Some of the old markers still standing. Most no longer
have writing, but the one above is marked 1797.

The "worm wall" as I like to call it, retains the cemetery soil next to a scary little street. When it rains, giant, fat pinochle-playing worms pour out from between the slats. Cool!

Many, many drunken nights were spent drinking on, peeing
behind, and falling off, the tombs to the right.

This hallowed-out tree is not completely dead, and is big enough for Paul to stand up in! There's a headstone in there, too, but not an actual grave.

Satan offered to purchase Paul's soul in exchange for an alcoholic squishy. Paul thought about it hard...

The Baptists are, well, special around these parts...

To the right is a swamp in Grand Ecore. The green stuff is a tiny leafy plant (not algae) that grows on the water. The water isn't really that color! I have so many photos of this very spot. I am obsessed with it.

The Red River, also in Grand Ecore; they began the project to re-route the river when I was in High School, and this
fence and the gazebo near it were new to me. They found dinosaur bones and old metal Civil-war era boats down there,
and I once sank to my hips in some kind of gushy mud down there, near where that white sandbar thing is. Huge, laden barges
still run the river, which used to connect more directly to the Mississippi, until it changed routes somewhere along the lines.

We made it to Lafayette in time to be just a little late for my mom's birthday surprise, but it was still a big surprise for her when I walked in. She had no idea I was coming down for it. I wish I had photos of the party.

On Mom's birthday proper, we took her to Prejean's, one of our family's favorite restaurants. My Mom, my niece Beaux, and my sister Amy. Technically, Beaux is my grand-niece. This is confusing. Look, my sister could be my mother, and Beaux is her oldest son's biological child, but my sister adopted her. So now my 70 year old mom and my 50 year old sister are raising a baby. My mom doesn't look 70, does she?

The dark thing in the middle is the first of many alligators we
saw, out amid the cypress trees and knobs.

More of that green stuff, along with many cypress trees. Cypress pretty much doesn't rot. Old houses (like ours) are made of it.

With our guide. I think he's a cousin or something. We're all kin.

Louisiana would not be, without cotton and the African
Americans who were largely responsible for farming it,
before and after slavery.

Above: My friend from High School, Ronlyn. We hadn't seen
each other since about 1986.

Left: It doesn't matter that you have no idea who Huey Long
was; you would live in a different world, had he not been
shot and killed in 1935.

Outside Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop Bar, which was -- I think -- a money laundering operation for the pirate. That's our
"pirate hook" gang sign we're doing.

There are a lot of photos of various finger gestures from this
evening. Drunk people, go figure.

One of the unmarked Voodoo graves, supposedly of one of the
Marie Laveaus. The Xs on the sides are related to favors asked, and there are always offerings out front.

I fell in love with the color scheme of this very typical French
Quarter house...

Bones and remnants of a dress in one of the many open,
unkempt graves.

A once expensive grave, now abandoned and
fallen into disrepair.

This dark, mismatched corners sort of sums up Oddfellow's
for me...

This shows some of the details of how they built this style of
grave.

Paul. not doing anything illegal, nosiree. Actually, he failed
anyway, so it was all good.

My favorite one. The marker to the left of the open, still-
occupied spot reads, " Annie Isabelle 1856." I am absolutely
amazed that this is still here and intact. The casket itself
appears to be iron, and sealed shut, which may be what's
deterred grave robbers and young bone scavengers. I have an
idea that whatever killed her may have been dangerous enough to warrant a special, hard-to-open casket, but that

Louisiana Trip, November 2003 Paul and I drove from Utah to Louisiana for my mother's 70th birthday as a surprise.
In Texas (or possibly New Mexico), this amused us: a porn / sex shop with a huge Billboard above it reading, "Jesus is watching you." I wish the photo was readable.	A large rock somewhere in Texas or thereabouts.

We stayed in the Queen Anne B&B in Natchitoches. It was so beautiful!




Paul was impressed by the selection and patrons of Maggio's Liquor store, and more impressed with the "alcoholic squishies!"

The next day, I took Paul to see my campus and sites around town. This is the tree that "messed around with Jim." I'm afraid that Jim (Croce, that is) lost. I lived in a dorm that overlooked this tree.


Near the front entrance of the campus. I love these old oaks and spent many hours lunging under them. In the background, to the right, is an old cotton warehouse (now a gym, last time I checked). The train still comes through, regularly, snarling up traffic. In the fall, when they harvest the cotton, it takes ages to load the bales onto the train at the newer warehouse (out of this photo, but not more than half a mile off to the right.)	Russell Hall was a library, then housed our radio station, then housed my college. It's now the Business Department (don't get me started!). I have a Fallout shelter sign I lifted from this building in my hoodlum years, and this is also the place where we found two old liters of Old Coke the year that New Coke was released. We chilled and drank it like a fine wine, but from Dixie cups.

I had many strange (some good, some bad) experiences on these two sets of steps off of Normal Hill...

The columns are the campus "logo" and are left over from a burned-down home, the Bullard Mansion, which was later a convent. There was another building here, where I stood to take this photo, that also burned. There's a ghost story, of course...

Next stop: The American Cemetery. It was once the site of the Fort St. Jean Baptiste, and contains some of the oldest European remains in the Louisiana Purchase. We were greeted at the gate by a gregarious black cat, whom we promptly named Satan. He escorted us around the cemetery, but when we left, he politely saw us to the gate and bade us farewell. Honestly, it was very strange. I'd thought nothing new could happen to me in Natchitoches, but I was wrong.



I have a VERY bad story about this particular grave. It is not for public consumption, because I (or others) could go to jail. Ask me and I'll tell you...	These are crepe myrtles. When they are wet, they look like twisted, naked human limbs. They make a beautiful flower in the spring.


	Some of the old markers still standing. Most no longer have writing, but the one above is marked 1797.
	Some of the old markers still standing. Most no longer have writing, but the one above is marked 1797.

The "worm wall" as I like to call it, retains the cemetery soil next to a scary little street. When it rains, giant, fat pinochle-playing worms pour out from between the slats. Cool! Many, many drunken nights were spent drinking on, peeing behind, and falling off, the tombs to the right.

This hallowed-out tree is not completely dead, and is big enough for Paul to stand up in! There's a headstone in there, too, but not an actual grave.	Satan offered to purchase Paul's soul in exchange for an alcoholic squishy. Paul thought about it hard...

The Baptists are, well, special around these parts... To the right is a swamp in Grand Ecore. The green stuff is a tiny leafy plant (not algae) that grows on the water. The water isn't really that color! I have so many photos of this very spot. I am obsessed with it.

The Red River, also in Grand Ecore; they began the project to re-route the river when I was in High School, and this fence and the gazebo near it were new to me. They found dinosaur bones and old metal Civil-war era boats down there, and I once sank to my hips in some kind of gushy mud down there, near where that white sandbar thing is. Huge, laden barges still run the river, which used to connect more directly to the Mississippi, until it changed routes somewhere along the lines.

We made it to Lafayette in time to be just a little late for my mom's birthday surprise, but it was still a big surprise for her when I walked in. She had no idea I was coming down for it. I wish I had photos of the party. On Mom's birthday proper, we took her to Prejean's, one of our family's favorite restaurants. My Mom, my niece Beaux, and my sister Amy. Technically, Beaux is my grand-niece. This is confusing. Look, my sister could be my mother, and Beaux is her oldest son's biological child, but my sister adopted her. So now my 70 year old mom and my 50 year old sister are raising a baby. My mom doesn't look 70, does she?

Prejeans (pronounce it "PRAY-zhonz)" has all these trophies all over the place. The alligator on the right travels the world -- it's HUGE. To the right are a cougar (mountain lion, but we don't have mountains in Louisiana), a small alligator, and a gar fish, which look like small ichthyosaurus, with a mouthful of teeth! My grandma and I used to catch those things!

After dinner, Paul and I visited Shadows on the Teche. To be honest, I was very disappointed with the tour.
	The Teche River (that great gray-green shiny thing in the middle of the image) is also the Vermillion and the Bayou Carencro; it meanders all over the place, including along a piece of my family land. The plantation is in New Iberia, however, south of Lafayette. I think I miss the trees and Spanish Moss the most... And the color GREEN.

Plantations are bastions for neo-classical stuff, and Shadows was no exception.

The next day, we tried to visit the Evangeline State Park, but they were closed or something. We did take some photos of trees, however. We take trees very seriously in Louisiana. These are Live Oaks. See how they dwarf Paul! Ha ha!

How could I not be a tree-hugger?	I believe someone needed to eat, and was being grumpy.

Next, we went on a Swamp Tour in Hendersonville. This was so cool! I'd never been on one, although I'd been out in swamps on foot and such. Again, I learned, and did, things completely new to me!
This was somewhere along the way; I don't know where...	A less grumpy Paul, waiting for the tour to begin.

The dark thing in the middle is the first of many alligators we saw, out amid the cypress trees and knobs.	More of that green stuff, along with many cypress trees. Cypress pretty much doesn't rot. Old houses (like ours) are made of it.

As you can see, swamps aren't just underwater. We trawled through sections that were only a few inches of water.	A Great Heron in the swamp. That's someone's (totally modern) house in the background. Nice view they have!


We disturbed this big guy (he's blind) as he was relaxing, probably digesting a 3 year old. At first, he ignored us, so our guide got out a long stick, and poked at him. "Teeekle, teeekle," he said (French-speaking Cajuns often use the long EE sound for the letter i), until the 'gator jumped up and swam right next to the boat. I reached down and touched his back and the fleshy part of his thigh! I'd never been this close to a completely wild alligator, though I've petted them in exhibits and such! Paul went pale when I reached over the side of the boat!

The alligator, sick of us and making his getaway.	Bird, birds, and more birds!

Cher, ti bebe! A young alligator, out sunning.	With our guide. I think he's a cousin or something. We're all kin.

Our next stop was Baton Rouge, where I tried to show Paul where Huey Long was shot. We were about 30 minutes too late, but this is the Louisiana State Capital, an Works Project Administration art deco masterpiece.
No dome!	Louisiana would not be, without cotton and the African Americans who were largely responsible for farming it, before and after slavery.

I like the neo-classical, Egyptian, Biblical, Norse, and art deco elements all combined into one building.


	Above: My friend from High School, Ronlyn. We hadn't seen each other since about 1986. Left: It doesn't matter that you have no idea who Huey Long was; you would live in a different world, had he not been shot and killed in 1935.
Next, of course, was New Orleans, where we stayed with my nephew, Spaz. Spaz is Anthony's age, so we're more like cousins, and he's basically forbidden to call me "aunt," (which he's good at) and I'm forbidden to call him by his given name (which is a pain in the ass for me). He's a DJ (some aspect of techno -- jungle, I think) and recording engineer.
With Spaz and his girlfriend, at my favorite not- actually-local bakery.	We took this one for Dallas.

We decided to go out and get drunk. Unfortunately, Spaz does not normally drink. I think we gave him alcohol poisoning, although we drank much more than he did. He slept for like, 36 hours and missed a DJ gig! I feel terrible about doing this to him!

Outside Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop Bar, which was -- I think -- a money laundering operation for the pirate. That's our "pirate hook" gang sign we're doing.	There are a lot of photos of various finger gestures from this evening. Drunk people, go figure.

Leaving a hung-over Spaz at home the next day, we went to see the city, especially the Aquarium of the Americas, of which I never get bored.
Paul's a big Jimmy Buffett fan, so we went by the old Storyville, now Margaritaville.	Lap of luxury, eh? A white alligator at the aquarium.

The enormous 2-story Gulf of Mexico tank has this wonderful round window where you can have close encounters with sea creatures. I loved this ray (or is it a skate? I can never tell), who is almost as big as Paul!

I think the sharks made Paul a little nervous; they really are pretty close to you in this tank!


On our last day, we did the uber-goth thing one must do in New Orleans...



One of the unmarked Voodoo graves, supposedly of one of the Marie Laveaus. The Xs on the sides are related to favors asked, and there are always offerings out front.	Someone's family stopped paying...

	I fell in love with the color scheme of this very typical French Quarter house...

Finally, I insisted we stop in Metarie, not for the big cemetery everyone loves so much, but for my personal favorite, Odd Fellow's Rest. It's in much better shape than when I first discovered it, many many years ago, which isn't saying much...
Bones and remnants of a dress in one of the many open, unkempt graves.	A once expensive grave, now abandoned and fallen into disrepair.

This dark, mismatched corners sort of sums up Oddfellow's for me...	This shows some of the details of how they built this style of grave.



	Paul. not doing anything illegal, nosiree. Actually, he failed anyway, so it was all good.


	My favorite one. The marker to the left of the open, still- occupied spot reads, " Annie Isabelle 1856." I am absolutely amazed that this is still here and intact. The casket itself appears to be iron, and sealed shut, which may be what's deterred grave robbers and young bone scavengers. I have an idea that whatever killed her may have been dangerous enough to warrant a special, hard-to-open casket, but that
may just be my romantic notion, too. These wall-crypts were designed to be reused -- there's a space at the end where, after a time ("one year and one day," according to local folklore), the remains were decomposed enough to push down to the end and ready the space for another occupant. So, why put in this un-decomposable casket? How much would it cost to buy a wall-crypt that can't be reused? Why not just get a plot instead? I want to know more about this. I have photos of this from my last trip to Oddfellow's in '96. Update: I found this article on the cemetary, which mentions the Yellow Fever plague; I will have to research when that was and how the victims were buried. This might be the expanation for the casket.
After this, there was just a long, long 3-day drive home...

Louisiana Trip, November 2003