NOLA Trip: New Orleans' historical cemeteries
Previously, on the New Orleans Trip Log, I took the train called the City of New Orleans to New Orleans and I got my first look at the city and its suburbs. And on Saturday, March 21, phoenix_anew was going to show me to the one big New Orleans tourist attraction everybody knows - the French Quarter.
At least, that was the original plan.
Sort of. You see, even back when we were planning the trip, Angie said that the iconic neighborhood has seen an uptick of robberies, and she just wasn't sure she felt safe going there. I wasn't too terribly concerned - I've been in some of Chicago's most dangerous neighborhoods, and the worst thing that ever happened to me was some kid tried to steal my camera (and, admittedly, that was a legitimately upsetting experience. It took me hours to calm down). To which Angie said that if I was going to insist on going there, she and jaklocke would just drop me off. Which would've kind of defeated the point of exploring the city with friends.
I reminded myself that I know Chicago, and I know places to avoid - drug markets, gang borders, certain major intersections. I knew nothing about New Orleans. And I reminded myself that one of my rules for exploring dangerous neighborhoods is not to second-guess the locals. Even when I think locals are overreacting.
I told Angie as much, and we wound up agreeing that, if crime would go down, we'd go. If not, well...
We never did wind up revisiting the topic until I actually got there. On Friday evening, Angie told me that things seemed okayish, and she was gong to try not to worry about it.
On Saturday morning, Angie told me that she read up on crime stats in French quarter. That there was a shooting last night, and that the shooter hasn't been caught, and that for all she knew, the shooter could still be out there, and she just couldn't deal with it. In a voice that was equal parts fear and equal part "I'm so sorry I ruined everything," she begged me to understand.
And I told her the truth. That I understood, more than she'd ever know. Some of the people reading this will know exactly what I'm referring to. As for the rest... I'm not sure the person in question would be too keen on me talking about it in a public post, so I'm just going to leave it at that.
Originally, the plan was to visit the French Quarter in the morning, grab some New Orleans fast food for lunch and then see what Angie described as the other big attraction - the city's historic cemeteries. With the morning part of the plan shot, we tried to come up with an alternate way to fill the morning. After some brainstorming, I suggested checking out the other stereotypical New Orleans tourist attraction - the St. Charles streetcar.
(Jak didn't come with us because he was sleeping in to prepare for a concert that night - but I'm going to get into that in a later post)
But that didn't work, either, albeit for completely different reason. We knew going in that there was some kind of a run/fest/what have you taking place along St. Charles avenue. We weren't entirely sure whether the streetcar was affected, but as we got closer, we realized that it may have been beside the point. Angie couldn't find a way to get anywhere near that street. After several attempts, she decided that, screw it - we were going to see the cemeteries.
In a bit of an aside - while we were trying to find a way to reach St. Charles Avenue, we wound up driving to a pretty nifty-looking Uptown area. I tried to take some pictures, but this was the only one that turned out any good.
Honestly, I wouldn't have minded spending an hour or so just walking around and taking pictures of houses. But I didn't really think to suggest it until we were near the cemeteries, so... As my people say, the best ideas always come too late.
The Cemeteries
I don't know why so many of New Orleans cemeteries seemed to be concentrated on the northwestern edge of the city. I wish I would've asked. But as we drove up to Canal Street and went looking for parking, seeing cemeteries on all sides was a bit... novel.
Of course, because this was me, I was quickly distracted by the streetcar tracks running down the middle of the street.
Maybe, I thought aloud, the whole riding-the-streetcar thing was salvageable after all. Sure, the Canal Street line wasn't nearly as historic as St. Charles streetcar (it followed the path of a historic streetcar route, but all the tracks and catenary were built in early 2000s), but still - streetcar!
But Angie quickly shot this idea down. She didn't know how often those things ran, or how long they took to travel each way, and she didn't want to take chances that we'd get stuck waiting. And since I had no idea either...
...We headed off to the historic cemeteries.
Our first stop was a historic Jewish cemetery.
I quickly realized why New Orleans cemeteries were tourist attractions.
As Angie explained, because New Orleans was below sea level and all, you couldn't really bury people in the ground. Not unless you want the bodies to come back up. So none of the bodies in this, or any other nearby cemeteries, are buried per se.
This is even more evident in the Catholic cemeteries.
Some of those tombs didn't hold up so well
Some did
It was not uncommon to see multiple generations using the same tomb
With plenty of room for more
Which occasionally made for heartbreaking visuals like this
(If you are wondering what I'm talking about, look carefully at the name at the bottom)
Some designs were pretty creative
Some are downright extravagant
Some are the opposite of that. As near as Angie and I have been able to figure it out, these are paupers graves
And some... Angie told me that, unfortunately, people have been known to break into tombs and steal remains. For voodoo rituals.
As we kept walking across the cemeteries, I couldn't help but realize that something was missing. Aside from some some tombstones in the Jewish section, there were no Slavic last names. None whatsoever.
As I would later find out, Poles, Russians and other Slavs have immigrated to New Orleans, but their numbers were nowhere near as large as they were in Chicago and New York.
But I did find this. One Chinese family in a cemetery full of Irish, French and Italian surnames.
And, by the looks of things, all of the people buried in that tomb had long, eventful lives. That's a pretty decent chunk of American history right here.
Angie and I would up exploring cemeteries on both sides of Canal Street. There was also Greenwood Cemetery, which was located right where Canal Street dead-ended into City Park Avenue
Since the gate looked pretty locked, I wasn't sure we could get in. But I wanted to at least take a few shots up close. Problem was that there was no obvious way to cross the street safely. No streetlights, no crosswalk...
Undaunted, I decided to cross like a Chicagoan - quickly and boldly, completely disregarding the very real possibility that someone might me over.
"Oh no, I'm not going with you," Angie shook her head.
I don't really blame her. I did manage to get some good pictures but honestly... I'm not sure I'd want anyone following my example on this one.
To be honest, there is only so long you can look at tombs before it all starts to look the same. After a while, we decided to head back to Metairie and figure out how we're going to fill up the next few hours.
And here's something we couldn't help but notice. That streetcar I mentioned in the earlier? Angie and I are pretty sure it hadn't moved at all while we were there.
Later, when we would get back to Angie's home, I would check its schedule. It was supposed to run once every half an hour. And we were definitely there longer than that.
So Angie was right to worry about streetcar schedules.
On the next trip log, a trip to a local library winds up being pretty interesting, and I get to explore Angie's neighborhood. And then, in what's probably going to be a separate post - Angie tries sushki and we attend the Jak Locke Rock Show.
---
At least, that was the original plan.
Sort of. You see, even back when we were planning the trip, Angie said that the iconic neighborhood has seen an uptick of robberies, and she just wasn't sure she felt safe going there. I wasn't too terribly concerned - I've been in some of Chicago's most dangerous neighborhoods, and the worst thing that ever happened to me was some kid tried to steal my camera (and, admittedly, that was a legitimately upsetting experience. It took me hours to calm down). To which Angie said that if I was going to insist on going there, she and jaklocke would just drop me off. Which would've kind of defeated the point of exploring the city with friends.
I reminded myself that I know Chicago, and I know places to avoid - drug markets, gang borders, certain major intersections. I knew nothing about New Orleans. And I reminded myself that one of my rules for exploring dangerous neighborhoods is not to second-guess the locals. Even when I think locals are overreacting.
I told Angie as much, and we wound up agreeing that, if crime would go down, we'd go. If not, well...
We never did wind up revisiting the topic until I actually got there. On Friday evening, Angie told me that things seemed okayish, and she was gong to try not to worry about it.
On Saturday morning, Angie told me that she read up on crime stats in French quarter. That there was a shooting last night, and that the shooter hasn't been caught, and that for all she knew, the shooter could still be out there, and she just couldn't deal with it. In a voice that was equal parts fear and equal part "I'm so sorry I ruined everything," she begged me to understand.
And I told her the truth. That I understood, more than she'd ever know. Some of the people reading this will know exactly what I'm referring to. As for the rest... I'm not sure the person in question would be too keen on me talking about it in a public post, so I'm just going to leave it at that.
Originally, the plan was to visit the French Quarter in the morning, grab some New Orleans fast food for lunch and then see what Angie described as the other big attraction - the city's historic cemeteries. With the morning part of the plan shot, we tried to come up with an alternate way to fill the morning. After some brainstorming, I suggested checking out the other stereotypical New Orleans tourist attraction - the St. Charles streetcar.
(Jak didn't come with us because he was sleeping in to prepare for a concert that night - but I'm going to get into that in a later post)
But that didn't work, either, albeit for completely different reason. We knew going in that there was some kind of a run/fest/what have you taking place along St. Charles avenue. We weren't entirely sure whether the streetcar was affected, but as we got closer, we realized that it may have been beside the point. Angie couldn't find a way to get anywhere near that street. After several attempts, she decided that, screw it - we were going to see the cemeteries.
In a bit of an aside - while we were trying to find a way to reach St. Charles Avenue, we wound up driving to a pretty nifty-looking Uptown area. I tried to take some pictures, but this was the only one that turned out any good.
Honestly, I wouldn't have minded spending an hour or so just walking around and taking pictures of houses. But I didn't really think to suggest it until we were near the cemeteries, so... As my people say, the best ideas always come too late.
The Cemeteries
I don't know why so many of New Orleans cemeteries seemed to be concentrated on the northwestern edge of the city. I wish I would've asked. But as we drove up to Canal Street and went looking for parking, seeing cemeteries on all sides was a bit... novel.
Of course, because this was me, I was quickly distracted by the streetcar tracks running down the middle of the street.
Maybe, I thought aloud, the whole riding-the-streetcar thing was salvageable after all. Sure, the Canal Street line wasn't nearly as historic as St. Charles streetcar (it followed the path of a historic streetcar route, but all the tracks and catenary were built in early 2000s), but still - streetcar!
But Angie quickly shot this idea down. She didn't know how often those things ran, or how long they took to travel each way, and she didn't want to take chances that we'd get stuck waiting. And since I had no idea either...
...We headed off to the historic cemeteries.
Our first stop was a historic Jewish cemetery.
I quickly realized why New Orleans cemeteries were tourist attractions.
As Angie explained, because New Orleans was below sea level and all, you couldn't really bury people in the ground. Not unless you want the bodies to come back up. So none of the bodies in this, or any other nearby cemeteries, are buried per se.
This is even more evident in the Catholic cemeteries.
Some of those tombs didn't hold up so well
Some did
It was not uncommon to see multiple generations using the same tomb
With plenty of room for more
Which occasionally made for heartbreaking visuals like this
(If you are wondering what I'm talking about, look carefully at the name at the bottom)
Some designs were pretty creative
Some are downright extravagant
Some are the opposite of that. As near as Angie and I have been able to figure it out, these are paupers graves
And some... Angie told me that, unfortunately, people have been known to break into tombs and steal remains. For voodoo rituals.
As we kept walking across the cemeteries, I couldn't help but realize that something was missing. Aside from some some tombstones in the Jewish section, there were no Slavic last names. None whatsoever.
As I would later find out, Poles, Russians and other Slavs have immigrated to New Orleans, but their numbers were nowhere near as large as they were in Chicago and New York.
But I did find this. One Chinese family in a cemetery full of Irish, French and Italian surnames.
And, by the looks of things, all of the people buried in that tomb had long, eventful lives. That's a pretty decent chunk of American history right here.
Angie and I would up exploring cemeteries on both sides of Canal Street. There was also Greenwood Cemetery, which was located right where Canal Street dead-ended into City Park Avenue
Since the gate looked pretty locked, I wasn't sure we could get in. But I wanted to at least take a few shots up close. Problem was that there was no obvious way to cross the street safely. No streetlights, no crosswalk...
Undaunted, I decided to cross like a Chicagoan - quickly and boldly, completely disregarding the very real possibility that someone might me over.
"Oh no, I'm not going with you," Angie shook her head.
I don't really blame her. I did manage to get some good pictures but honestly... I'm not sure I'd want anyone following my example on this one.
To be honest, there is only so long you can look at tombs before it all starts to look the same. After a while, we decided to head back to Metairie and figure out how we're going to fill up the next few hours.
And here's something we couldn't help but notice. That streetcar I mentioned in the earlier? Angie and I are pretty sure it hadn't moved at all while we were there.
Later, when we would get back to Angie's home, I would check its schedule. It was supposed to run once every half an hour. And we were definitely there longer than that.
So Angie was right to worry about streetcar schedules.
On the next trip log, a trip to a local library winds up being pretty interesting, and I get to explore Angie's neighborhood. And then, in what's probably going to be a separate post - Angie tries sushki and we attend the Jak Locke Rock Show.
---