MONDAY, JUNE 3
New Orleans, Louisiana
By the time we had breakfast this morning, the dining center had finally gotten its act together. While the magnetic meal cards still didn't work, they had corrected the paper list to show that we had indeed paid. Too bad we only had one more day to enjoy that efficiency.
Our first game this morning was ... the only time our opponents weren't from Texas. It's interesting--last year when the championships were in Texas, there wasn't a Texas team among our opponents; this year it seemed as if everyone were from Texas. The exception to that for us was Irmo High School, which hails from ... South Carolina (near Columbia). Irmo probably wasn't the best team we played, but they definitely deserved to be here. They were the only team that had qualified for the National Academic Championships in each year of its fourteen year history. While that's not quite as impressive as it sounds (there are other ways to qualify in addition to winning a tournament, and a lot of it really comes down to money), you don't do that on a whim. While the game didn't start out that badly, you can probably figure out that we lost again.
We had a couple of hous of free time after the game. Some of the kids went swimming in the campus pool, which was rather oddly located on the top floor of the parking ramp. (I'd think with all that weight and the probability of leaks, you'd want to put the pool in the basement, if anywhere.) Others just bummed around for a while. Muriel, Aaron, and I checked out the bookstore. The Loyola store certainly wasn't anything much. I did pick up a big mug with the name of the school on it (my only real souvenir of the trip), but nothing else.
... While they apparently have over 7,000 students here, I have no clue where they put them. The ultra-compact campus takes up about the same space as Iowa Wesleyan does in Mt. Pleasant, the equivalent of maybe four or six square blocks. Unlike Wesleyan, with its 700 students, Loyola is extremely overbuilt. There is very little green space, and when you leave one building it's never far to the next. It's not really all that claustrophobic (after all, a park as large as Central Park in New York is just across the street), but it's not where I'd choose to spend my college years. Still, it was far nicer than the University of Dallas. ...
[We decided to check out the bookstore at neighboring Tulane University.] Tulane's campus is much larger (and to my mind, much more pleasant) than Loyola's. The old campus is of grey stone buildings arranged in the classic quadrangle around a huge commons area. Once you get back of there, the buildings switch to fighting styles, with the emphasis on red brick. ...
The Tulane bookstore was huge. ... All three of us spent quite a while browsing. I ended up buying a fascinating book called simply Mississippi written by a black man from Aurora, Illinois. His parents came to Chicago as part of the Great Migration after World War II. The family moved to the suburbs, and the book's author grew up as any upper middle class suburban child in an integrated city. ... Now as an adult he returned to his ancestral state as an outsider. The book gives his reactions and in the process traces most of the modern history of the Magnolia State, especially as it pertains to race relations. I was fascinated by the book, more than most white people I'm willing to bet, because of the time I've spent living in Mississippi.
I finished shopping before either Muriel or Aaron, and I waited outside for them. The Tulane bookstore is in their student union, and this was orientation week, where freshmen come to take their requisite tour of the campus. As I watched the tour groups come in, I was utterly appalled at what I saw. The tours were segregated by race. First there was the white tour, then a tour for new black students, and finally a tour I'd classify as "other"--which had an Asian guide but included both Asian and Hispanic freshmen. It was interesting to overhear what the guides said on each tour, and they were quite different. The white tour (or at least what I saw of it as they were in the union) presented the most "fun" image of the campus, centering on social life. I got the feeling Tulane was one unending party from the tanned, blonde cheerleader who was showing the kids around. The black tour was definitely not led by a model. Instead we had a young woman with stringy hair and that unfortunate "old Mammy" build. Her spiel centered much more on practical details--where to eat and how meal tickets worked (better than Loyola, I hope), how to use the campus mail system, where to find an automatic teller, how to report crimes on campus, etc. Of the three, hers really seemed like the most useful tour for incoming freshmen. The Asian woman (who was a model with rather sculpted hair that wouldn't move in a hurricane) reinforced everyone's stereotypes of Asian students by centering her speech mostly on academics. To her the most important things in the union were the bookstore and a study lounge.
While it was interesting to snoop on these presentations, I was frankly shocked and rather offended by the whole affair. It really bothered me that the college found it necessary to divide their students by race from the time they first set foot on campus. This was 1996; more than thirty years since Freedom Summer and forty years since "Brown vs. Board of Education". I know America is far from perfect, but I really thought we'd come farther than this. What bothered me even more was the fact that at Southern Mississippi, this couldn't have happened. Not only would it have been illegal; it would have been unthinkable. It may have taken a series of court orders to change things, but discrimination in "public accommodations" really is a thing of the past in Mississippi. In an educational setting, there's a forced and overly conscious equality that's not exactly pleasant, but it beats this nonsense at Tulane. USM may not have enough black students (about 20% of the overall enrollment, compared with 40% of the people statewide in Mississippi) and they may not mix freely (you'll see the majority of blacks and the majority of whites sitting with people of their own race in the dining center), but in any sort of administrative matter there's no question but what the races are treated equally. I suppose the reason Tulane can get away with this nonsense is that they are a private school, while USM is state-supported. That may make it legal, but it certainly doesn't make it right.
* * * * *
There was one other thing that intrigued me at Tulane. This is apparently a Baptist college, but you wouldn't really know it looking around. They have condom machines in the restrooms, and there's a bulletin board featuring "the Best Bars in the Big Easy" (and I'm pretty sure they're not using "bars" to mean "cookies" like people here in Algona do).
When we got back to Loyola we gathered the kids together and set off for downtown. This time the streetcar was pleasantly uncrowded, and we had a most enjoyable trip. We walked into the French Quarter down a street that had signs saying it was "closed for filming". The only evidence of any filming we could see was a motorhome parked right next to one of those signs that was probably being used as a portable dressing room. We kept on walking past Jackson Square, and eventually we made it to our destination, the Royal Cafe.
... The restaurant occupies the LaBranche Building, which was built in 1835 and remains one of the most historic and beautiful buildings in the city. It is a three-floor brick structure with a double balcony circling its upper floors. I had made reservations to take the kids out to eat there, and I was delighted that we got to sit out on the second floor balcony, overlooking Royal Street.
The food at the Royal Cafe is both excellent and remarkably inexpensive. ... The kids enjoyed sampling a variety of local cuisines while enjoying the trappings of an elegant restaurant. (Some of the kids commented that they had never before eaten in a place that used cloth napkins, which floored me but was probably true.) I had a Creole chicken and corn relish salad which, like everything on their menu, was exquisite. We enjoyed a pleasant lunch, with a grand total for the eleven of us--including drinks and tax--of $105.78. I over-tipped the two waitresses who were very kind to us ..., but it was still quite affordable.
* * * * *
[After exploring some more downtown] most of the group went straight back to campus, but Muriel, I, and one of the girls got off in the Garden District to have a look at the Lafayette Cemetery. It used to be unsafe to see the cemeteries. They were major gang hang-outs, and people would hide behind the tombs and jump out to mug visitos. They solved that problem here by fencing the place in and locking it up. You can't go in and look at the graves up close, but you can walk all around the outside and get a general feel for everything. This is one of the typical New Orleans cemeteries, where they inter people above ground in a style that has nothing to do with the swampy ground of the area, but rather with the Mediterrenean roots of the city. Probably the most interesting thing we could see from the gate was a whole tomb reserved for members of the fire department, with dates going back almost two centuries. It really was fascinating.
We also got an up-close look at several of the homes in the Garden District. ... I never actually had gone out walking here before, and it was fun to actually see something new in the city. The homes were lovely, but one thing I couldn't help but notice was the elaborate security systems that every house had in plain view. I always lock my door, but I can't imagine living like this.
* * * * *
By the time we got back to Loyola it was almost time for our final game of the tournament. You guessed it-we lost this one, too. Our opponents were from Alief Hastings (in the first word, the accent is on the first syllable, which has a long "a" sound; the second syllable is pronounced "leaf") High School, again from the Houston area. They played well; we didn't. Enough said.
* * * * *
Early in the evening, Muriel, one of the girls, and I went out for a walk. We walked down the side of Audubon Park, past the private drive with exclusive homes. We then walked past the zoo and back through the golf course in the park. Then we walked down St. Charles Avenue a while, past Tulane and the fraternity and sorority houses that serve the university area. Eventually we got on the streetcar and rode over to the Carrollton business district, where we stopped at a Kinko's copy center, so I could make some copies of the "Bear Facts" script [the school radio show, which we were doing on location in New Orleans this week].
I had never been to a Kinko's before. I'd seen them, but mostly I had just been amused by the name. Their motto is "the new way to office" (as if "office" were a verb). They offer all kinds of copy services, as well as computers, fax machines, and videoconference rooms--all at surprisingly reasonable prices. Their brochures imply that they will not copy any copyrighted material, which is interesting, because the fair use clause in the new law says it's okay to make personal use copies of virtually anything. They also say they'll refuse to copy pornography and other objectionable material. My bet is that they don't have a legal leg to sand on with that one, but having the official policy keeps away 90% of the people who would try to do it.
You can apparently make self-service copies at Kinko's, but you need a special magnetic card to do it. Instead I took my originals (from an old portable typewriter with a cloth ribbon) to the counter and described what I needed. It seemed to take ridiculously long, but eventually the copies came back, at a price of seven cents each. Expensive, but not awful.
We took the same streetcar back to the university area. ... Then we walked around a little more and returned to the dorm. This is a beautiful neighborhood, and I really enjoyed getting out and talking a walk in it.
I assembled the senios in my room so we could tape our final "Bear Facts" of the year. Before we left, we had arranged to tape our last Garrigan radio show of the year in New Orleans, to be broadcast after we got back. I had lugged all our equipment down here and gotten the script together, so no we were going to do it--come hell or high water. The seniors came down, and with them everyone else. We had a few false starts and loads of laughs in the taping process, but eventually we did get a quality tape made.
To read the "Bear Facts" script from New Orleans, click here.
TUESDAY, JUNE 4
New Orleans, Louisiana to Magee, Mississippi
(appx. 300 miles)
* * * * *
Once we checked out and double-checked to be sure everything was loaded, it was time to leave the Big Easy. There was no way we could have re-traced the directions we followed getting to campus, as many of those strets were one-ways. Instead we followed what to me seemed like a much more logical route. ...
It amazed me how light the traffic was for a weekday morning. There was a little tie-up at the Intercoastal Waterway Bridge (where the highway briefly narrows from six lanes to four), but otherwise things moved along easily. Before long we reached the six-mile bridge across the inlet that divides Lake Ponchatrain (fresh water) and the Gulf of Mexico (salt) and drove on into Slidell. This is a stretch I could drive in my sleep (and almost have, to tell the truth). Just past Slidell, I-10 turns off, and I had to force myself to make the turn. My instincts would have me go straight, following I-59 up to Hattiesburg and the University of Southern Mississippi. Instead I-10 cuts just north of the coast to Gulfport, Biloxi, Pascagoula, and Mobile.
We kept on following I-10, and before long ... we stopped ... at the Mississippi Welcome Center, which impressed the kids with its lavishness. They had a big map showing where all of last month's guests were from. They had people from absolutely every state, but it was interesting that more than half the guests were from Louisiana. I got a state highway map (mostly as a way of being polite to the hostess), and we were on our way again.
A little bit further east we stopped again in Bay Saint Louis. This town (which is invariably abbreviated "BSL") is the first in a long string of Gulf Coast resort towns. BSL is bigger and much more prosperous than it was when I was here before. The reason--gambling. Mississippi legalized casinos the year after I got my master's degree. All of Mississippi's casinos are water-based, but none of them actually cruise. Instead they offer what is called "dockside" gambling, ships permanently anchored to provide twenty-four hour entertainment. BSL has three such casinos, most of which appear to cater to the package tour trade. Apparently a lot of bus tours combine a day in New Orleans and a day on the Gulf Coast into a single gambling weekend. BSL is an obvious choice for these tours, being the closest resort to New Orleans.
We stopped in Bay Saint Louis, but not at the casinos. Instead we pulled into a little shopping center. Most of the kids ran into Wal-Mart to pick up assorted types of beach gear. Meanwhile I ran next door to the Sav-a-Center ... for ... coffee. ... Community is a Baton Rouge importer, and their New Orleans blend is the exact same coffee and chicory mixture they serve at Cafe du Monde (not to mention every other restaurant in New Orleans). It's also what virtually everyone in this part of the country drinks as their breakfast brew. I love the stuff, but in Iowa it's expensive. ... It's equally expensive in the city of New Orleans, where they sell it as a souvenir. I knew from before, though, that in supermarkets in Mississippi (and most of the South) it was sold just like any other coffee, and usually cost less than Folgers. Sure enough, Sav-a-Center had a whole selection of Community coffees, with a large part that was devoted to New Orleans blend. I picked up six vacuum bags (each the size that used to be two pounds) for $3.59 each.
I also picked up a copy of the Sun-Herald, the principal newspaper of the Coast. ... It fascinates me ... that the last literate state in the nation has some of the best newspapers I've seen anywhere. The Jackson Clarion-Ledger could go up against the Des Moines Register any day (and these days has a broader statewide circulation), and secondary papers like the Sun-Herald and the Hattiesburg American provide broad coverage of national, regional, and local events. Editorially the Hattiesburg paper was a bit too patriotic for my blood (as the name implies), but the Sun-Herald is surprisingly liberal.
* * * * *
The editorial page featured a strong condemnation of the church burnings that had been spreading across the South this spring. They ... questioned whether public reaction (which so far had been to ignore the problem) would be different if it were libraries, hospitals, or Wal-Marts being burned instead of black churches. One thing I hadn't realized before ... is that most of the churhces that had been burned were uninsured, which does make it much more of a loss than it first appears. ...
* * * * *
We followed U.S. 90 east from Bay Saint Louis. You could almost hear the kids audibly gasp as we pulled around the bend and the beach actually came into view. Again, this was old hat for me. I was here almost every weekend when I was in grad school. It's easy to forget just how spectacular the Mississippi coast is. For mile after mile, the right side of the road is nothing but open, almost empty white sands. The left side ... is nearly as attractive, lined with Victorian mansions that would rival the homes on St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans. It sure beats the wall of condominiums and mini-malls in Florida.
The open beach is broken in a couple of places with the new casinos. Each of the little resort towns has at least one casino, and the big ones have several. The casinos really aren't that intrusive, though. The beach is so huge that they are absorbed without really getting in the way all that much. Moreover, they seem to have actually emptied out the beaches. Even the busiest stretches of beach near the Gulfport/Biloxi border were remarkably empty today. My bet is that a lot of people who used to play in the sun are now shoveling their quarters into the slot machines.
We stopped at the Gulfport Yacht Harbor to let off about half the kids. They planned to spend the day on Ship Island, the national park area just off the coast. ...
The rest of us just spent a day relaxing on the Coast. First we made our way west, almost back to Louisiana, so we could tour the NASA rocket testing facility. I've writen about the Stennis Space Center in other travelogues, so I won' dwell on it here. ...
From NASA we drove back down U.S. 90 along the coast. We were looking for a place to eat when we spotted a seafood place. When we got there, though, it turned out to be a place that sold fresh seafood, not a restaurant. (Just as good, since I'm not much of a seafood fan anyhow.) Eventually we stopped at a Waffle House in Gulfport. ...
The Waffle House menus featured the kind of "gee whiz" facts that McDonalds used to advertise themselves with. (Remember hearing how many times you could go to the moon if you stacked all the hamburgers ever sold on top of each other?) The Waffle House claims to be America's largest user of just about everything. I can believe their claims for things like steak sauce and eggs, but I found it hard to believe they were the nation's biggest user of USDA choice beef. Having mentioned the omnipresent Golden Arches, I'd really be surprised if anyone else beat them.
We spent most of the afternoon just bumming on the beach. All the rest of the group was really impressed with the beaches, and I must say they impressed me again too. The Gulf Coast is a popular spot for older people, ... and I could definitely picture myself retiring down here. The problem with that idea is that most of the housing here is (pardon my French) crap. Unless you have the big bucks to afford those mansions with a view, you can choose between mobile homes or overprised apartments that would make mine look luxurious.
Eventually we made our way to "T-Shirt City" in Biloxi. T-Shirt City advertises itself as "the pink store", and it is. It's a block-long gift shop that is painted a garish pink. There's very little in the way of souvenirs T-Shirt City doesn't have. I purchased a lovely piece of coral, even though the nearest reef to here is probably in Cancun. I also picked up some mugs for [one of the girls who was on Ship Island]. She said her mother collected those state mugs that feature the state flower, motto, etc., on them. I saw these for Mississippi and Louisiana at T-Shirt City, so I got them for [her].
* * * * *
It was raining by this point, so we skipped the last of our plans for the day (the national park at Ocean Springs) and headed back toward Gulfport. I was expecting the group to be back from the island around 6:00. It was roughly 5:40 when we got there, and they were already there. In fact, they were somewhat angry because they'd been waiting about 15 minutes for us. ...
[The girl] was glad I had gotten the mugs, but I'm almost sorry I did. The mugs reminded her of something else she wanted to buy--a live hermit crab for her father. They had crabs at T-Shirt City (although I can't imagine transporting it safely back to Iowa), and [she] wanted me to drive all the way back there so she could buy one. She was really rather nasty about it. I compromised (sort-of), and drove to the Edgewater Mall, where I figured we could eat and she could check around to see if anyone had the hermit crabs. She checked one pet store, and when they didn't have them she just pouted. There are tons of souvenir shops at Edgewater, but she didn't even look in any of them. She did, however, let me know it was all my fault that she wouldn't have a gift for her father. I tried hard to ignore her while I enjoyed Chinese food and ice cream for dinner.
The drive this evening was definitely not pleasant. Aaron and Muriel were together in the other suburban. In mine I had the clique I referred to earlier, and I was definitely not in the "in" group tonight. [The girl who wanted the crab] pretty much pouted the whole way, while the others talked and laughed so loudly I got a headache. They talked about the stupidest things, too. I swear I heard the details of every episode of every silly situation comedy from the '70s. Then there were the relative merits of "rock" and "alternative" music. I've always wondered what the difference was myself, and I can't say this conversation enlightened me particularly. (I've always suspected "alternative" is just the latest generation's way of affirming that their music is somehow different from their parents' music.) Then there was the endless discussion of some computer-based roll-playing game, followed by everybody's favorite internet sites. ... Get a life, people!
We drove up U.S. 49 from Gulfport. This is another road I could drive (and virtually have driven) in my sleep. They've improved it a bit since I was here last, though. ... They've also increased the speed limit to 65mph, the same speed everybody's driven forever anyhow. We sailed past Wiggins ..., and eventually we made it to Hattiesburg. I didn't even bother pointing out to the kids as we passed USM. I did look to the left myself, though, and the deja vu returned with the entire campus looking absolutely unchanged. (I'd have been fascinated to go back into Wilber Hall to see if my old dorm room till had the same crack you could see out of.)
I just kept on driving through Hattiesburg and sailed on north toward Collins and then Magee, our actual destination for the night. I was both tired and annoyed, and to entertain myself I started playing an old mental game I'd played many times while driving through the boring forest tunnels of Mississippi. I call it the "sign game". The goal is to find the entire alphabet in sequence on signs along the roadside. There are two variations--in the more difficult version the letters you find must start the words. That makes it virtually impossible to find "X", for example. In the easier version ..., the letters must just be in the words, so "EXIT" makes "X" a comparatively easy letter when you're on the interstate. ... Overall the hardest letter is probably "Q", which usually comes up only in trademarks like "Dairy Queen" and "Quality Inn". "Z" is also a challenge. ... On interstates one of the hardest letters is "J". This is easy on two-lane roads, because every few miles you have "JCT" signs for crossroads. "J" is also easy everywhere in Mississippi, because it seems like all roads lead to "Jackson".
* * * * *
It was quie late when we got to Magee, going on 10pm. I definitely woke up when I walked into the lobby of the Super 8, though, and it was all I could do to keep from bursting out in laughter. They had an enormous Confederate flag over the desk, with a wood-burned sign proclaiming "God Bless Mississippi!" Then there was a television running the Christian Broadcasting Network. Finally there was a velvet painting with pink praying hands on it. Southern religion is nothing if not tacky.
* * * * *
CONTINUED IN PART FOUR
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