Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Memorial Day
On Memorial Day, Eric and I checked out of the Sportsman's Motel (about which I was pretty glad) and he cycled off, headed towards St. Fransville, Louisiana. I drove off too, and headed to New Roads, a town on the bank of the Mississippi river. It was about 8 a.m. when I got there and nothing was open. It was overcast and there had been a powerboat race there the previous two days. There were still signs up thanking everyone for coming and the competitors for participating. New Roads was a nice town and it had many cute-looking shops and cafes, none of which were open, much to my chagrin. What was open though, and to the consternation of some maybe, was Wal-Mart. There really is a Wal-Mart in every town we pass through, or in most, and it seems like the presence of a Wal-Mart is really an indicator of the size required for a town to be considered viable by some in the business world. Anyway, in New Roads I went to the Wal-Mart and got a coffee and walked around there for about an hour. Eric and I had planned to meet at the loading area for the St. Francisville Ferry, which would take us across the Mississippi. I drove there and realized that I was immediately in the queue and so I just went for it. It was exciting to drive the car onto the ferry and be shuttled right across the river. I'd never done that before.
On the other side of the river, there used to be a town. It was destroyed by fire and flooding and then its industries were wrecked by the Civil War and the boll-weevil. I cannot remember its name. Something with Sara in it. So soon after driving off of the ferry I found myself in historic St. Francisville. It was still very overcast and raining some and I turned on a street that had a sign denoting that there were historic homes there, and my word, there WERE. I saw homes that dated to the late 18th century. It was amazing. I went into a shop called Grandmother's Buttons, which had jewelry made out of antique buttons (all with certificates of authenticity) and other gifts too. From there I drove around the town some more and then went walking to through the Episcopal churchyard. There were very old gravestones there and that really gets you thinking. It was amazing there with the trees streaming Spanish Moss overhead, canopied, and the sunlight shooting in as much as it could on such a day. I liked that people were still being buried there, among the nearly 300-year-old graves. It gave a sense of continuity to the place, which I like. I left the churchyrad after seeing some blue hydrangea, like the ones my grandma Rose had dried on her glass etagere.
The Episcopal cemetery in St. Francisville
Eric and I met in a park in St. Francisville and had lunch. Later we met again in Jackson, Louisiana, at the Old Centenary Inn bed and breakfast. The Old Centenary Inn was lovely; it has eight guests rooms on the second floor and was operated by an innkeeper named Bonnie, whose mother was the innkeeper before her. A Jackson native owns the inn and he is very invested in improving and refurbishing the small town of Jackson. Eric and I drove to Baton Rouge that evening and nothing was opened it seemed because it was late in the day on Memorial Day. We did find a health food store called The Daily Bread, about which we were very pleased, and we bought some vegetarian dinners and drove back to Jackson where we sat on the back porch of the inn and ate, with a cat named Jackson there to keep us company and meow to us. After dinner we walked around the little town and imagined what people there did.
Me on the back porch of the Old Centenary Inn
The next morning we got up at 6:00 as usual but it was raining pretty hard so after watching some of the Weather Channel, Eric decided to wait a while before heading out to ride (and I encouraged this because I thought it was dangerous to ride on the narrow roads with all the trucks and the spray and all that). So he went back to bed and I went down to breakfast. He joined me later. I ate grits for the first time. After Eric cycled off at around 11 a.m., I talked to Bonnie a little and told her about how I did find Jackson similar to Detroit. Nature had taken back buildings in both places.
I drove off to Clinton, Louisiana, the neighboring town. It used to be an important hub for lawyers in the area. I went to the public library, which was built in 1860. It was cramped and well used. There were a few children in there looking for books about horses.
On the other side of the river, there used to be a town. It was destroyed by fire and flooding and then its industries were wrecked by the Civil War and the boll-weevil. I cannot remember its name. Something with Sara in it. So soon after driving off of the ferry I found myself in historic St. Francisville. It was still very overcast and raining some and I turned on a street that had a sign denoting that there were historic homes there, and my word, there WERE. I saw homes that dated to the late 18th century. It was amazing. I went into a shop called Grandmother's Buttons, which had jewelry made out of antique buttons (all with certificates of authenticity) and other gifts too. From there I drove around the town some more and then went walking to through the Episcopal churchyard. There were very old gravestones there and that really gets you thinking. It was amazing there with the trees streaming Spanish Moss overhead, canopied, and the sunlight shooting in as much as it could on such a day. I liked that people were still being buried there, among the nearly 300-year-old graves. It gave a sense of continuity to the place, which I like. I left the churchyrad after seeing some blue hydrangea, like the ones my grandma Rose had dried on her glass etagere.
The Episcopal cemetery in St. Francisville
Eric and I met in a park in St. Francisville and had lunch. Later we met again in Jackson, Louisiana, at the Old Centenary Inn bed and breakfast. The Old Centenary Inn was lovely; it has eight guests rooms on the second floor and was operated by an innkeeper named Bonnie, whose mother was the innkeeper before her. A Jackson native owns the inn and he is very invested in improving and refurbishing the small town of Jackson. Eric and I drove to Baton Rouge that evening and nothing was opened it seemed because it was late in the day on Memorial Day. We did find a health food store called The Daily Bread, about which we were very pleased, and we bought some vegetarian dinners and drove back to Jackson where we sat on the back porch of the inn and ate, with a cat named Jackson there to keep us company and meow to us. After dinner we walked around the little town and imagined what people there did.
Me on the back porch of the Old Centenary Inn
The next morning we got up at 6:00 as usual but it was raining pretty hard so after watching some of the Weather Channel, Eric decided to wait a while before heading out to ride (and I encouraged this because I thought it was dangerous to ride on the narrow roads with all the trucks and the spray and all that). So he went back to bed and I went down to breakfast. He joined me later. I ate grits for the first time. After Eric cycled off at around 11 a.m., I talked to Bonnie a little and told her about how I did find Jackson similar to Detroit. Nature had taken back buildings in both places.
I drove off to Clinton, Louisiana, the neighboring town. It used to be an important hub for lawyers in the area. I went to the public library, which was built in 1860. It was cramped and well used. There were a few children in there looking for books about horses.
# posted by jnewwave @ 4:13 PM 
