With Lynne arriving tomorrow for the third year in a row while the family is down in Texas and Louisiana, it seemed fitting to pull out the pictures from four summers ago, in July of 2007 when I was escorting Nick to his first Manning Passing Academy.
Nick had asked to go to Manning since he was in 7th grade and Bob had told him if he kept up with his QB work, when he was old enough (it's only open to high school players) then we would get him there.
Of course, even when we signed him up in the Fall of 2006 for the 2007 camp, we had no idea we'd be moving 1000 miles away before then. What was going to be a morning drive to the camp turned into a logistical nightmare when Bob didn't have vacation time to take at his new job and we were now 20 hours away.
Then Mom and Dad saved the day and gifted us the money for Nick and I to fly to the camp. Then Lynne suggested she meet me there and while Nick was sweating away in Thibodaux, we'd spend a couple of days in New Orleans.
She chose a fantastic B&B,
The Garland House, just off the French Quarter across from Louis Armstrong park.
Here is the place's history, taken from its website:
Claude Tremé, was a hat maker from France for whom most of the land between North Rampart and N. Broad was named. He acquired much of what is known as Tremé, which was actually the former Mornand plantation, from his wife's inheritance.
The Tremé is significant to the history of the United States as it is one of the oldest neighborhoods in the nation to continuously house "free people of color."
From 1720 until 1810, the house stood at the center of a plantation, brickyard, and tilery. It was built by the Company of Indies who directed the Louisiana colony from 1717 to 1731. The Company actively sought the improvement of the colony through agriculture and industry and this plantation symbolized these efforts.
After the company left, a former employee, Charles Antoine de Morand, purchased the plantation, continuing its operation until his death in 1756. Morand's widow, Renée de la Chaise, married Alexandre Latil, of the neighboring plantation a year later. Latil was also appointed tutor to Morand's children and executor of the Morand estate. Relations between Latil and the children of Morand were less than cordial and accusations of mismanagement arose. To resolve the tensions the plantation was put up for auction and purchased by Morand's eldest son, Charles (Carlos) de Morand, Jr. in 1772. In 1775 Morand, Jr. sold the plantation to Paul Moreau. Moreau died within a year leaving his widow Julie Prevost to run the operation. Although Prevost sold much of her husband's land, she remained at this site until her death in 1794. Since she had outlived her sole son, the plantation passed to Julie Moreau, wife of Claude Tremé.
Claude Tremé held little interest in planting or running the brickyards and tileries. Instead, he saw an opportunity in providing new lands for the growing population in New Orleans and began subdividing the plantation and selling lots outside of the city in 1798. The thirty-seven people who bought lots from Tremé between 1798 and 1810 represented a cross-section of the cities population including several free men and women of color, recent immigrants and older French and Spanish colonial settlers. Eager to reap the profits of urban development, the Corporation of the City of New Orleans, purchased the remaining lands of the Tremé plantation in 1810 and oversaw its subdivision into what is now known as the Faubourg Tremé. The Corporation of New Orleans paid $40,000 and by 1816, the city was selling this land in smaller subdivided lots for a profit. These lots were sold to both white people and free people of color, most of whom were either the children of white men or individuals who fled the slave uprisings in the West Indies. The free men of color who resided in Tremé were often musicians, craftsmen, and artisans.
The plantation house remained standing in the new Faubourg, but it was incorporated into the Collège d'Orléans, a new university built for New Orleans' French-speaking population. Unfortunately, the Collège failed in 1823 returning the house to City ownership. After a handful of short-term transactions, the house was purchased by Mlle Jeanne Marie Aliquot, a Frenchwoman who, along with Henriette Delille and the Sisters of the Presentation, established a school for free girls of color. Under financial and social pressure, Aliquot sold the house to the Ursuline Nuns in 1836 under the stipulation that the school remain. The Ursulines later sold it to the Third Order of Notre Dame du Mount Carmel in 1840.
In 1842, the property at the corner of Bayou Road (Gov. Nicholls) and St. Claude St. became the site of the new parish church of St. Augustine. The new parish, roughly bounded by N. Rampart, N. Claiborne, St. Peter, and Elysian Fields, was formed to accommodate the rapid growth of the Faubourg Tremé. St. Augustine, thus, became the home church to a great number of black and white Creoles as well as slaves. This mixed congregation remains a characteristic of the church to this day.
During the early 19th century, the Tremé area was more than half occupied by church and convent property. In 1898, a section of Tremé was set aside as a red light district - the famous Storyville.
Unfortunately, after 100 years of educating African-American children in Tremé and providing a focus for community development, the old Tremé plantation house was demolished in 1926. Since then, the lot has been used as a playground by the St. Augustine Parish church.
What this won't tell you is that this place is so hidden, the next door neighbors don't know what it is. We know this because we'd circled the block three times, and when Lynne went into the hotel next door to ask the the bellhop, he had no clue.
1129 Rue St. Philip seemed not to exist. But then Lynne called and a magical wall pulled back to reveal a small parking area surrounded by French gallery houses. We even got our own remote to make the magical wall disappear when we wanted to drive about.
We stayed in the Jean Louise Luxury House and pretty much didn't want to leave. Ever.
The view from the door of my bedroom the evening we arrived:
The Living Room:
Our little dining area in the kitchen, with a door leading out to another sitting area.
My room:
The bathroom, with its ancient bricks that felt like they could tell you a 1000 stories while you soaked in the tub.
Lynne's room:
The porch:
The ghost that came to visit:
We oohed and ahhed over the decorating to no end.
I liked how the chandelier threw the light in little shards all over the ceiling and walls.
The gourmet breakfasts were wonderful, too.
There were pretty grounds with fountains to cool yourself beside. And in New Orleans in July, we needed it.
Eating Mexican leftovers one evening from
El Gato Negro
The Cafe Rose Nicaud in Marigny on Frenchman Street is named after the first coffee vendor in New Orleans, with Lynne listening to the flute player who started up a tune outside.
On the road to Thibodaux to pick up Nick:
I wish now I'd taken my camera everywhere. There will have to be a next time. . .
