I’ve always wanted to come here. I remember stories my Memaw (Grandma Effie, whom Evelyn is named after) would tell of growing up here, and it’s been a fantasy of mine to experience the unique culture that is Louisiana.
It was a long time in the coming (two years into our journey!), but we are here.
It’s HOT, it’s HUMID, and it’s HOT and HUMID. Yup. So, that’s the weather.
With the air on in the car, the surroundings outside are misleading. It’s green, and there are pine trees and rivers and lakes bordering the roads and highways. It could be Oregon… except it’s not. The temperature gauge on the rearview mirror reads 96 degrees, and it ain’t makin’ a joke!
Today was the first day since we’ve been here I’ve made it out to explore in daylight hours.
The past two evenings, I’ve only been out to explore with the family after dark. Even then, it’s not any cooler than it was during the day and I’ve sweated until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Have I mentioned it’s hot??
The first night we were out, we found a cat next to an old sundries sale building by the river, and Evelyn wound up in tears knowing it was out on its own. We threw an uneaten sandwich from our moving day that day out in its direction, but we’ve been back since to leave piles of cat food. She worries endlessly about how it gets water without being swept out in the river and how it survives coyotes. If we could get it to come to us, we’d surely have another traveling cat for the ride.
We saw the token sights along the river and near the college; those are the most staple sights. This city is the oldest of the Louisiana Purchase—there is a lot of history here!
There is also a lot of poverty. It’s not difficult to find homes along the river, which one would consider premium property, where homes are barely holding themselves together. Most are mobile homes with big, mossed-over armchairs on the porches and eves that have drooped under years of neglect and punishment of extreme weather.
I didn’t get a picture, but my favorite mobile home of the day was along the river with an awning built overhead and two giant red cylinder tanks strapped underneath as the foundation for the home. When the river goes up, so does the home! And it does go up, we’ve learned. Two years ago, where we sit now was covered in eight feet of water—and we’re not near the river.
But I digress.
I couldn’t share what happened today without it being more than a social media entry.
Today was the first day we were able to get out as a family outside of me working from the trailer. We didn’t have a direction. If anything, my goal was to find somewhere to take pictures of Kailyn for her second birthday. We were kind of aimless, and the heat was so oppressive, we were a little at a loss.
We ventured onto the road that runs into Historic Natchitoches, but there were far more cars there than we’d seen the past two days (it is Saturday, today, after all), and there were banners up at the University: “Housing Registration This Way”. With school starting and new students arriving, downtown was not where we needed to be.
I did a quick search and found two National Park plantation locations six miles out of the area. We passed a couple of drive-through daiquiri shacks and a larger-than-life crawfish atop a building on the way toward our destination, though I wasn’t quick enough to snap pics (and anyway, I plan to grab a daiquiri on the go in the near future!).
We drove through a less idyllic Louisiana—run-down mobile homes with German Shepherds tied on short chains under trees and piles of appliances and trash in the yard, the homes themselves grown over in foliage and rust, threatening to collapse in a slight wind.
But we did discover historic plantations and Creole history the deeper we drove into rural territory and past glimpses of bayou through the woods.
We briefly toured Melrose Plantation, run for and by freed slaves, before it was obvious Kailyn wasn’t going to sit quietly for a reverent tour. We bowed out after only the first portion of the dining room tour in the Main House and retreated to the grounds where we could sweat and chase Kailyn on our own conditions.
Kailyn was turning TWO the next day, as well, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to blend history and future on these beautiful grounds.
Kailyn at Melrose Plantation, Natchitoches, Louisiana
On our way back toward town, we spotted the Cane River Commissary, a tin-sided and roofed building with a modern update. We were hot and hungry, and we soon encountered the best afternoon we could have imagined.
Once inside, Evelyn struck up conversation with the family sitting in the booth next to us. They were warm and gracious and all enthusiasm to listen to our experiences and to offer suggestions for the area. We soon learned that they were born and raised in the area and were swapping surnames and smiles.
To put this out there, the play and movie, Steel Magnolias, is the claim to fame for the area. It doesn’t take but a quick Google search to discover as much. We hadn’t known this until a couple of weeks before finally arriving here, but it is a point of pride for those living here, now, and it is quick to see as much.
After a few minutes chatting and recommendations for visits, we soon came to learn that the women we were talking to were and are the owners of the home in which Steel Magnolias was filmed. Alice, the younger of the two, reminisced the chaos of the staging and equipment in the home, but was clearly proud and nostalgic over how her family home became iconic: it was old and historic, yet had large rooms in which to film and felt like a home. We learned that most of the movie was set in sound stages and sets, but every bit of the home life in the film was actually taped in her home.
The older woman with the couple told us her family history—her father had been the superintendent of schools in the area for many years. Her name was Georgia Cayer, but everyone knows her by “Jokie”, a nickname she earned when was very young. We learned that she suffered of early onset Alzheimers Disease, but she was as happy and pleasant as could be and asked about my grandmother’s surname, “Gandy”, with interest. I couldn't help but study her expressions with fascination-- she reminded me an awful lot of my grandma's mannerisms and her eyes and eyebrows carried the same warmth and invitation.
When the family left, the staff smiled on and fondly praised what a joy and light Jokie is.
Evelyn and Kailyn resonated with everyone else in the place this afternoon. There was a family in the corner with a toddler who Kailyn made eye contact with and waved and smiled to. We talked openly with them about birthdays—of course Kailyn’s being tomorrow—and by the time they left, they were wishing us, “Nice to meet, y’all, and especially nice to meet you, li’l lady!” and “Happy Birthday, Kailyn!” and “If I don’t see you in April, then Happy Birthday, Evelyn!”.
Evelyn volunteered to bus and wipe down the tables, much to the servers' joy, and she continued to raise eyebrows and the corners of mouths in delight through our duration there.
When we thought we were ready to leave, the waitress brought over a surprise: "A little birdy told me it's someone's birthday tomorrow!" She held a bowl of bread pudding with a candle burning on top and a side of pecan dressing (to DIE for!!).
We all sang "Happy Birthday" and Kailyn delighted (who am I kidding, we ALL did!) in the bread pudding and pecans.
On the way out, we gabbed with another couple, the wife of which had been born and raised in Natchitoches. She leaned in with interest over the family I had come to honor. She raised her eyebrows and marveled that there were a great many Gandy's in Alexandria, where she was living now, and suggested I spend some time looking into whether we had relations.
We left The Commissary intrigued and enlightened. There seemed to be a great number of lights guiding our path today!
I've left messages for my grandma's one living sibling in Robeline, Louisiana (about 10 miles from where we are staying), and haven't heard a thing back, but I'm thinking I need to persist. And I'm thinking I need to do some research into Alexandria. These things don't just happen.
I can't help but feel that my Memaw is throwing me a guiding light, should I take it and should I choose to accept it. My Aunt Vertie once talked with me on the phone and mailed me actual plotted maps of our family tree. I'm only just now appreciating how easy it is to lose track-- even when I'm confronted face to face with people who may actually know my ancestors, should I know more about them and their names.
We have five days left here-- I'm thinking I need to make the most of it to see what Memaw means for us to see and learn. <3
As it is, the light surrounding us has been palpable. I've felt more of my grandma being here than I have since I was 17. She's leading our way and guiding our path, and I've never been more sure of anything thus far on our travels.
