Sunday I had an interesting day in Nine Mile Point, Louisiana.
Nine Mile Point is on the West Bank of the Mississippi River in Jefferson Parish, between the communities of Westwego and Bridge City. It got its name from being 9 miles up the river from New Orleans. The Point is basically a peninsula surrounded by a sharp bend in the river, bypassed by the major highways. So while close to the heavily trafficed Huey P Long Bridge, Nine Mile Point is not a location much visited by people without a specific reason to go there.
The most famous location in Nine Mile Point is the Magnolia Lane Plantation site, originally the Fortier Plantation. The surviving plantation house is from 1830, well preserved, and in private hands. It can be glimpsed from River Road. I found it can also be seen well from the adjacent plant nursery.
So can various plantation outbuildings, most in various states of decay.
I found out afterwards that the plantation was dubbed by some sensationalistic television program as one of the "scariest places in the World". I hadn't known, so I neglected to be scared. (Although even without ghost stories, any place constructed with slave labor has an inherit creepy aspect. Of course most ante-bellum Southern planation homes open to the public seem to prefer to play up the "Gone With the Wind" aspects over the Buchenwald aspects... though that's a digression for another time.)
However it wasn't the plantation which drew me to Nine Mile Point. It was a post from Michelle Kimball of the Preservation Resource Center of New Orleans:
1780′s House in 9 Mile Point Needs a New Home "The owners of this historic 1780′s home in Nine Mile Point, near Westwego plan to remove the house from the site and sell the property for new construction. The owners have given a local contractor a window of opportunity to try to save this house. This house is 40+ feet deep and 50+ feet wide. It can be moved, or it can be dissambled for reconstruction. The catch is that one of the options must be completed in the next 90 days.
"On Sunday, Jan. 15, 2012 an open house will be held 9 am till noon. Please go by and see all the marvelous details and feel the ambiance of this simple and humble home. We’ve seen the house and it is truly a gem!"
I sent Michelle Kimball a message asking if anyone would mind if I went to the open house just to take photos. She said sounded good, and we carpooled over to 9 mile point Sunday morning.
The house in question
From what I gathered, the area is being "developed" for more suburbia -- because what Jefferson Parish needs is less Colonial era architecture and more suburban sprawl, right? (Note to out-of-towners: residents of the old sections of New Orleans often joke that suburban sprawl is the dominant feature of Jefferson Parish.) The contractor hired to demolish the house fortunately knows a good bit about architectural techniques and history. While checking it out for possible material to salvage he realized what the building was and made some calls.
The house was something of a surprise among local architectural history circles. It is tucked away on a side street that seems not to be on any of the standard maps. The Parish historian was vaguely aware that the house might exist from records of it having been moved in the early 20th century; it was originally on River Road and was hauled inland during levee and road work. The historian tried looking for it but couldn't find it. The side that faces river road (across a field), originally the front of the house, had been substantially modified with the old front gallery filled in to put in a modern kitchen and bathroom, giving it the look more of an undistingushed house from the 1920s or 1930s.
What had been the front is now the back
Despite the 20th century modifications and subsequent neglect of the house, the folks who showed up to look the building over were oohing and ahhing. Most of the original structure was still intact, overbuilt when new and still solid. Terms like "hand-hewn beams", "original cypress flooring" "mortise and tenon", "peg construction", "bousillage insulation" and "moustache hinges" were thrown around appreciatively.
In the attic
So what will become of the house? If someone steps up soon to cough up the money to buy it and have it moved, and tackles the project of finding a new location and restoring it, the house can be saved. If not, it's another gone pecan. At least I got to see it and photograph it.
A pile more pix on Flickr