Baton Rouge, Louisiana

The drive from Austin to Baton Rouge took the better part of a day. I drove through dusty deserts and cattle ranges for hours, reveling in the start of the second part of my journey. Soon, the bayou of Louisiana would replace this desert ambience. The swamps and marshlands make it difficult to believe that Texas is a neighboring state. Consumed in my thoughts of the vast spectrum of environments in the United States, I continued through Houston and southeast Texas, reaching the border in the late evening.  I didn’t arrive at my hotel until after midnight, and the front door of the hotel was locked. I waited in the cool night breeze for the manager, who promptly buzzed me in. After checking in and hauling up my vast amount of supplies, I collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep slumber.

For followers of this blog, it might have become clear that I thoroughly enjoy college towns. Perhaps it is because I was raised in one, but I have found that housing a university seems to facilitate several things in every society from a big city to a small town. It increases the economic competition, because young people come from other places with their own perspectives, and they are the backbone of the local economy. That makes business owners step up their game. In general, it causes a very positive social shift, and I have found that I enjoy almost every college town that I have visited from Madison, Wisconsin to Lincoln, Nebraska and of course, Austin, Texas. Baton Rouge held a similar appeal for me.

The first morning I woke up and searched for a place to eat. I ended up at Louie’s Café, a cute little diner that reminded me of home. When I first walked in, everyone said hello. The grill was just behind the counter, and the cooks were working hard while chatting jovially with customers. The two waitresses were sitting at one end of the counter, gossiping. When I walked in one of them told me to sit wherever I’d like. She was wearing a cat costume with whiskers and ears in anticipation of Halloween, which was the next day. Smiling, she brought over coffee and water, and asked for my order, which was the usual bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. I noticed that her accent seemed a little different than most of the people I’d spoken to so far. When I asked her, she said that she was from Louisiana, but her mother was from New Jersey and it comes out sometimes. I laughed and told her that I was from New Jersey, which was funny for both of us. After a quick but delicious breakfast, I jumped back into the car and headed to the Capitol.

As I drove through town, the Mississippi River came up on my left hand side. As I neared the current Capitol, I passed the Old State Capitol on the right. It appeared to be a Spanish-style castle, with all of the grandeur to match. A moment later, the skyscraper Capitol came into view, dominating the sky. I gazed all the way up to its peak 450 feet in the air, astounded by the tallest Capitol in the United States. I parked and walked up the grand front steps, noticing that each had a name of a state, along with the date that it was admitted into the union.

The front doors were absolutely enormous, and there were pictures carved into the stone on either side, similar to the Nebraska State Capitol. It was interesting that the last skyscraper Capitol that I had been to shared many of the same characteristics as this one. Finally, I grew tired of examining the outside and decided to take a look inside. As soon as I stepped through the door, I complied with the security measures and chatted with the security guards. They all seemed interested in the trip I was taking, and they couldn’t have been friendlier. The lady at the front told me that there were no tours available, but I could take as long a look as I would like.

The main hall in the front of the building housed the most important parts. One of the legislative chambers was at each end, with the elevators to the offices on higher floors directly across from the front doors. The flags of all the nations that have ruled over Louisiana hung over the three elevators, including Castile and Leon, Bourbon France, Bourbon Spain, England, French tricolor, 15-star U.S. flag, flag of the Republic of West Florida, Louisiana national flag, Confederate Battle flag, Confederate Stars and Bars, Louisiana State flag, and the modern U.S. flag.

 In between the main entrance and the elevators was a beautifully carved, metal state seal. A permanent barrier to prevent wear and tear over time blocked people from walking on it. The hall itself was beautiful; the tile floor was varied and vivid, the ceiling was also very decorative, and the light fixtures were exquisite. The building’s style was similar to the art deco design of the Nebraska State Capitol, which makes sense because they were both built during the Great Depression.  

            It seemed like there was some sort of school project being displayed in the Capitol. There were tables lined up from one end of the hall to the other. Each one was a little different, and seemed to proclaim a different cause, whether it was finding world peace or saying no to drugs.

            I wandered over the House Chamber to take some photos. When I walked into the atrium, I realized that the gallery was blocked off, and you could only step a short distance into the room. Like many other State Houses, Louisiana’s legislature didn’t seem to want too many curious visitors in close proximity to their desks. It was understandable given that this is the only State Capitol to have witnessed an assassination. Just as I was taking photos of the enormous doors, beautiful ceiling, and other decorations, a young woman walked in with a small group of other women. She appeared to be giving a tour of some kind, though I thought it must be a private one, given that the lady at the front had clearly told me that there were none available. As they were about to walk upstairs into the gallery, I walked up to them and asked if I could hitch a ride on the tour. The guide said “Sure, why not?” I hastily accepted and climbed the short staircase up into the gallery. The guide explained many of the rules, including no flash photography or other distractions. She told the group that the last time the House was in session, there was someone in the balcony that did not agree with the choices of his representative. Apparently, he had snuck a banner inside his coat, and waited until a particularly heated moment to drape it over the railing. The ruckus that ensued led to a much more intense enforcement of the rule that states that no signs are allowed in the balcony. 

            The group meandered back down to the first floor, where the guide continued to explain many things about the building’s history. On the Senate side, she briefly told the story of a failed terror attempt that happened there. When the Senate was not in the Chamber a man placed a makeshift bomb underneath his Senator’s seat. Luckily, no one was hurt when the bomb detonated, but several desks had to be replaced.

            After taking a look at the Senate Chamber, I walked behind the main elevators to find the place where Huey Long was shot. Resting on the wall across from the Governor’s elevator [a large, golden elevator reserved specifically for the Governor], there was a display case honoring Long with pictures and newspaper clippings. Just to the left of the exhibit was a plaque that read, “Huey P. Long, United States Senator and Former Governor of Louisiana, died September 10th, 1935 from a bullet wound inflicted here on September 8th, 1935. He was 42 years old.” Directly to the left of a plaque was a column, which bore one of the bullet holes from that fateful day when Dr. Carl A. Weiss came into the Capitol with violent intentions. Although it is not clear whether or not that particular bullet hole was from Dr. Weiss’s weapon or those of Long’s security guards, the bullet hole remains a testament to Long’s legacy.

            Finally, I entered the main elevator and pressed the button for the highest floor. As the compartment rose and my stomach dropped, my anticipation grew. This was the third skyscraper Capitol that I had been to, as well as the tallest in the nation, and the views from the observation deck promised to the astonishing. Once the first elevator had gone as far as it was able, I disembarked and boarded another elevator that was half as big as the first one. Just a short ride later, I was at the top. When I first stepped out of the elevator, I could hardly believe the view. The city was sprawled out before me, visible for miles and miles. At first, I rushed out the door to the exterior deck. As soon as I went outside, I noticed that a bunch of stinging insects were buzzing around the building. Specifically, I noticed that they were large wasps that looked like I shouldn’t mess around with them. I snapped a few hurried photos and retreated to the safety of indoors. Inside of the enclosed portion of the observation deck, there was a fairly large gift shop where I purchased my Louisiana souvenirs.  I chatted for a while with the woman who was working there about my trip.

            I rode the elevator down to the main floor and exited the Louisiana Capitol with plenty of time left that afternoon to explore. As I stood in the tremendous entryway, I examined the map of the grounds that I had picked up on the way into the building. The memorial, grave, and statue of Huey Long stood before me, claiming the spotlight of Louisiana’s state grounds. Given that Long was the Governor that built the Capitol that is erected behind his tomb, it seems only fitting that he reserves a permanent spot on the Capitol grounds.

            I decided to take a look at the historic Old Arsenal Powder Magazine that was just a short distance from the Capitol on the right hand side. Meandering through the park and courtyard to the side of the building, I marveled for a moment at the sheer beauty of Louisiana vegetation. It must be a characteristic of the swampland to yield such unique and pleasant plant life; Florida always brings forth the same appreciation. I walked through the manicured courtyard, peeking for a moment at the bust of George Washington and the ‘Ceremonial Indian Mound,’ which was a spot up on a hill overlooking a river with two cannons that date back to the 1700s.

            The arsenal was obviously very old. A brick wall with a crumbling façade surrounded it, but it still held a considerable amount of prestige. Walking up the old path, I felt like I had on numerous occasions in the northeast when I explored various Revolutionary War Historic Sights. Louisiana is one of the only other parts of the country with infrastructure that dates back as far as some areas in the northeast, sometimes even farther! Somehow, it was comforting to be entering a building that so many others had entered before me. An older gentleman was standing just inside the door, and he informed me that admission was free of charge, but signing the guest book would be greatly appreciated. He also told me a few things about the armory, including that they were special vents on either side of the building to prevent anything on the inside from molding. These vents were made so that no one could fire a weapon inside and ignite the stockpile, but would still provide the necessary ventilation. I thanked him and began exploring the small room. To the left of the entrance there were several barrels of powder that hand diagrams showing how many rounds could be fired from different types of weapons with that amount of gunpowder. The arsenal has interesting displays and flags, which I enjoyed.

            As I left the armory, I noticed how beautiful the courtyard looked in the southern sunset light with the Capitol building in the background. I walked across the courtyard and parking lot toward the Louisiana State History Museum. When I walked up, I noticed an interesting statue made of some sort of metal. It depicted two men riding in a wagon that was hitched up to a horse. One of them was playing a violin and the other was playing an accordion. They looked like they were having the time of their lives. It was one of the most joyous and uplifting statues that I have seen so far on the trip, and definitely one of my favorites.

            The museum had modern architecture. There was a long, rectangular reflecting pool next to the walkway with a sign declaring that rollerblading, skateboarding, bicycling were absolutely forbidden and violators would be prosecuted. Just underneath was another sign that read, “Caution! Floor surface may be slippery.”

            As soon as we stepped through the glass doors, the bog of the bayou fell away. There is nothing like Louisiana heat and humidity to make you appreciate air conditioning. As I was still trying to catch my breath, the kind man behind the front desk got me oriented. I started my exploration on the first floor, which was dedicated to the exploration and settlement of Louisiana all the way up to the 20th century.

The Mississippi River was the main artery of the settlement of Louisiana. Its ports and passageways allowed the transport of many different kinds of goods, which gave the Louisiana economy its start. The French colonized Louisiana in 1682, when René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle reached the mouth of the Mississippi River and named the region Louisiana in honor of King Louis XIV. The region included modern-day Louisiana, Mississippi, Arkansas, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, North Dakota, and South Dakota. Soon French settlements were founded in many different parts of the region, and trade flourished. In the southern part of the territory, trade was conducted mainly with the Spanish, and sugar cane plantations emerged first. In the northern part of the region, French explorers traded with Native Americans, offering European goods such as alcohol, weapons, and tools for furs. The fur trade business soon became incredibly lucrative.       

After the French and Indian War, which was the North American Theater of the Seven Years War, Britain was laboring under an immense amount of debt, which eventually led to the taxes that started the American Revolution. Another effect of the war was that Acadia [now called Nova Scotia] had fallen into British rule after the war; the British demanded an oath of allegiance from the Acadians. The Acadians feared retribution from the French government if they gave their loyalty to the British, and they initially refused. Soon afterward, they agreed, but the British Governor of the territory ordered their expulsion nonetheless. The Great Expulsion, which lasted from 1755 to 1762, led many Acadians to flee to Louisiana, creating an entirely new French demographic element. When the Spanish gained official control of the territory in 1763 with the signing of the Treaty of Paris, the population of Louisiana exploded even further.

From 1763 to 1800, Spain remained in control of Louisiana. During this time, there was a large influx of slaves into the region. Although some slaves were brought with their masters from states like Virginia and South Carolina, the vast majority of slaves were taken directly from Africa. In 1800, Napoleon secretly reacquired Louisiana with the Treaty of San Ildefonso. It has come to light in recent years that Napoleon had a plan to create a large colonial empire in America, but his plans faltered when he suffered a huge military defeat trying to repress the revolution of Saint-Domingue (Haiti). Napoleon decided to sell Louisiana to the United States of America in 1803 after he’d given up on his dream of a colony in America. When French forces left the Caribbean, Haiti declared its independence in 1804. The Haitian Revolution sent a wave of immigrants into Louisiana, most of whom settled in New Orleans. The immigrants included free blacks, whites, and enslaved Africans. The refugees added significantly to the French-speaking population of New Orleans, and helped shape the demographics that are present today.

The 1800s saw a rise in the plantation economy and slavery. By 1800, slaves were the overwhelming majority over free individuals. Sugar cane continued to be prevalent, but cotton would soon replace it as the primary plantation cash crop. Louisiana’s cotton fields were infamous for being particularly hard on slaves. Horrific stories of adversity and abuse soon came out of the region in the form of literature. 12 Years A Slave by Solomon Northup, which depicts that trials and abuses that a free black man from New York faces when he gets sold into slavery to work in the Louisiana cotton fields, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, which details the horrible story of a brave slave named Uncle Tom as he is sold from owner to owner in Louisiana, gained massive popularity around the world and helped to raise awareness of the injustices slaves in Louisiana, and the rest of the United States, truly faced. Although government officials, politicians, and plantation owners claimed that the stories were exaggerated, both of those books became important catalysts in changing public opinion regarding slavery, which eventually led to the Civil War.

In the early part of the 20th century, Huey Long was by far the most influential person in Louisiana politics. He was born in Winnfield, Louisiana in 1893. He grew up in one of the poorest areas of Louisiana, which is historically one of the poorest states in the nation. In 1915 at age 21, he passed the bar exam after just one year in law school at Tulane University in New Orleans. In 1916, he opened up a practice in Shreveport, mostly taking cases against Standard Oil and other large corporations. He soon developed a reputation for fighting for the common man. In 1918 at age 24, Huey Long wins his first public election to the Louisiana Railroad Commission and continues his crusade to help average folks by reducing train fares and cutting utility costs. In 1924, Long ran for Governor unsuccessfully, but managed to make a name for himself in the process. In 1928, he was first elected Governor. Very shortly after he took office, Long pushed through several pieces of his agenda, including free textbooks for schoolchildren, night classes for adult literacy, and piping natural gas to New Orleans. Long also created a public works program that was unprecedented in the South during that time period. He increased the state’s paved highways from 330 to 2,300 and added 2816 miles of gravel roads by hiring 22,000 men during the Great Depression.

In order to pay for all of these public works programs, Long switched the majority of the state’s revenue from the bottom of the socioeconomic spectrum to the corporations and large businesses. Before Long came into office, Louisiana was a state with very few taxes, but the most lucrative was the property tax, which rested more heavily on the shoulders of the average citizen. Long slashed property taxes while imposing taxes on oil companies and other businesses that used natural resources, as well as increasing income taxes on the wealthiest citizens. By lowering tuition costs and creating scholarship programs, he enabled many more poor students to attend Louisiana State University.  Enrollment at LSU tripled during Huey Long’s time in office.  He founded the LSU Medical School to help fill the urgent need for more doctors practicing in Louisiana. The Governor often gave sports teams pep talks before games, and frequently visited other school organizations.

The second floor of the museum was dedicated to more modern-day Louisiana. There was a large portion dedicated to New Orleans culture, including food, music, Mardi-Gras, costumes, art, voodoo, vampires, and famous people from New Orleans, of which there are many. Anne Rice, Richard Simmons, and Lee Harvey Oswald are just a few examples of famous individuals that have called “the Big Easy” home. I spent a lot of time looking at everything, fascinated by how one of the most diverse cities in the country is so culturally rich, yet so deeply troubled. The adult literacy rate in New Orleans is only 50%. That is what I’d call an eye-opening fact.

After exploring the museum, I decided to find somewhere to get an early dinner. It was almost 5pm and I wanted to get where I was going quickly before afternoon rush hour. I looked at Yelp on my phone and decided to check out a place called Chelsea’s Café. The menu looked delicious and they had some tried and true Louisiana favorites. As I drove over to it, I saw it directly next to an overpass, but I had no idea how to get to it. Finally, after circling the blocks for several minutes, I finally discovered that I had to make a left before the overpass, and park underneath it, where the entrance was cleverly hidden.

When I walked up, a young man was sitting out front smoking a cigarette, and he directed me to the proper entrance. Apparently one side of the building is a music venue where they host small concerts on the weekends. When I entered, I definitely got the vibe that this was a good local spot. The bartender told me to sit wherever I’d like, so I picked a spot near one of the only windows. I ordered boudin links, which was a classic Louisiana sausage made of meat and rice, and some gumbo as my appetizer. It was delicious and pretty spicy. The portions were so large that by the time my entrée came, I couldn’t eat it. I politely asked for it wrapped up “to go,” and left shortly afterward.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of working on blog posts and packing up all of my belongings. The next day was Halloween, and I was leaving for a weekend in New Orleans. Before I left Baton Rouge, I decided to stop by the Old State Capitol, which had caught my attention the previous day. After checking out of my hotel room in the morning, I went to a sandwich shop called George’s Southside, where I got a huge BLT and sweet potato fries. The place looked pretty plain on the inside, and also had very few windows.  Essentially, it was a dive bar that served pretty decent food. When I sat down, I noticed that there were $1 bills taped to the ceiling with something drawn or written on each one of them, which seemed like a unique decorating touch.

After lunch, I returned to downtown, where I found a parking spot right in front of the Old State Capitol. The large wrought-iron gate was open and beckoned for me to walk up the long path to the steps. On either side of the front steps, two stone lions were lying peacefully. They seemed as if they were the guardians of the building. I walked around to the side, where the only entrance was located. As soon as I stepped inside, I was amazed by the architecture of the building. It was a cross between Spanish and Victorian style. Directly across from the door was a wide staircase that spiraled up to the second floor. Above in what would be the rotunda was a gorgeous stained glass window that claimed the space. The first floor had many displays dedicated to Huey Long and his legacy. One of them divided a room into two portions, one that outlined Long’s positive influence and another that depicted his forceful political methods. Although he did many good things for the state, Long was also seen as somewhat of a dictator. He manipulated the law to work in his favor, and he developed an unstoppable political machine that trampled anyone who dared to stand in his way. If someone didn’t agree with him, he found a way to get around them or take away their political power. When Long reached the US Senate, Long gained national recognition with his “Every Man a King” campaign, his filibusters, and his radio addresses. If he hadn’t been assassinated by the son-in-law of a political rival in 1935, Long would probably have reached the White House.

 The second floor of the State House was stunningly beautiful. It was old and small in comparison to the current state house, but the décor was positively enchanting. Each of the House and Senate rooms was bright and had large windows. In one of the side rooms, there were many different pictures of weddings that had happened there. It was quite impressive, but I could understand why a man like Huey Long might not have liked it. It may well have reminded him of all of the wealthy businessmen that had, in his eyes, burdened the lower class for personal gain. Long wanted a building that was less about grandeur, and more about efficiency and service.   

I left the Old State House contemplating the spirit of the state of Louisiana. It is the most diverse state in the country. Due its illustrious history, there are so many people of different backgrounds that add their own way of life to the state. The spicy food is delicious and the music has style. The people are friendly, kind, and like to have fun. LSU is one of the biggest schools in the South, and the presence of college kids in Baton Rouge ensures that there are good restaurants and fun things to do. I thoroughly enjoyed learning everything I did about Louisiana, and I felt sure that I would like to return. With that feeling of joy, I set out for New Orleans.