You may remember that a few days ago, we had breakfast at a restaurant called French Toast. This day, we had breakfast at a restaurant called Toast. Yes, the two restaurants are under the same ownership. One is outside the French Quarter, and one is in the French Quarter. You can figure out for yourselves which is which.
After breakfast, we went to catch a cruise down the Mississippi River to the site of the Battle of New Orleans (w). This was the final battle of the War of 1812. In fact, as I was amused to learn, it was actually fought after the war was over! It was fought on January 8, 1815, and a treaty ending the war had been signed on December 24th, 1814, 15 days earlier (although the treaty didn't actually take effect until it was ratified on February 16, 1815).
We arrived at the place to catch the ship, and I took this picture of Terry, Esmond and Lucia with this charming fellow:
Living here in Southern California, where "rivers" are concrete flood control ditches with a trickle of water at the bottom, we tend to forget what a real river looks like:
St. Louis Cathedral, on the north side of Jackson Square in the heart of the French Quarter, is said to the be the oldest cathedral in continuous use in the country. Here it is as seen from the river:
Along the way, we passed this factory:
Notice the logo? Here's a closeup:
Sugar cane is a major crop in Louisiana, so it wasn't a big surprise to see a sugar refinery. What was surprising, though, was how it looked. You can't really tell from the picture, but as we approached the factory, it looked so broken down and decrepit that I would have sworn it was abandoned. Upon further research, I learned that its appearance is due to a bad fire they had in 2020. I also found out that it's the largest sugar refinery in the U.S., and one of the oldest, having begun operations in 1909.
The Battle of New Orleans was actually fought about five miles downriver from the city, in what is now the community of Chalmette. Here's a map:
The green square outlined in red marks the location of the battle, which is now a historical park. The ship docked there, and we all had a chance to get off and explore. The battle was fought on what was, at the time, a plantation. All that remains of the plantation is this house, which was for many years the park's visitor center:
I didn't take a picture of the current visitor center, because it's a plain uninteresting building. But there's this monument out back:
Note the door at the base and the windows at the top. Apparently, there's an observation deck at the top, but it was closed on account of Covid.
One of the park rangers mentioned that this tree - a Southern Live Oak - was already 200 years old when the battle was fought:
After we got back to New Orleans, we had dinner at a restaurant with interesting decor:
After dinner, we went to Preservation Hall. Once again, let me quote from the 2001 log:
Preservation Hall, on St. Peter St., is a New Orleans landmark. It's a small concert hall dedicated to the preservation of original New Orleans Dixieland jazz music. When I say "small," I mean SMALL - the room doesn't even hold a hundred people. There are three benches, and if the benches are full, you either stand in the back or sit on the floor. The show starts at 8, but if you want a seat, you'd better be in line by 7:30 at least.
Terry and I got in line early enough, and so got to sit down. We stayed through two sets. The room is not only small, but very plainly furnished. There's no stage, just a set of plain wooden chairs at the front of the room.
This was Terry's first time, but I had been there before, in 1974 and 1975, when I travelled around the country with my friend Bill Hunt. At that time, all of the performers were old men (and women), musicians who had been there since the music was new. At that time, Bill commented that it was almost as if the music was preserving the musicians, instead of the other way around.
In addition to performing at the Hall, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band also does regular concert tours. Actually, the word "Band" is a misnomer; there are actually several rotating bands, and I believe the musicians rotate among the bands. Anyway, over the years, I've seen them in concert several times, and I noticed that as time went by, there were fewer and fewer of the older musicians, and more and more younger musicians in the lineup. Of course, that's no mystery; the older ones were dying off, and a new generation was taking over, which is as it should be. Still, it was with some sadness that I noticed that, on this occasion, only two of the musicians (trombone and clarinet) were from the older generation, while the rest (trumpet, banjo, piano, bass, drums) were from the younger. Time doth indeed march on.
Indeed it doth. You no longer get to stay for multiple sets. They have anyhere from two to six sets a night, and your admission is only good for one set. And each set is only 45 minutes. When the show was over, I felt like it had only just started. It was disappointing.
Here's what the Hall looks like:
The seat cushions are another new touch.
We were asked not to take pictures during the show, but after it was over, I took this picture of the band:
The three in the front, from left to right, are the trombone player, the trumpet player, and the man who played clarinet and alto sax. In the back are the sousaphone player and the piano player. There was also a drummer, but he's not in the picture. The trumpet player, whose name was Will Smith (no relation to the Fresh Prince) was the leader of the band. There was no fixed set list; he would decide on the spot what songs to play, and call them out to the other players.
After taking that picture, we were invited to have our picture taken with the band.
