Nashville, Tennessee

         When I arrived in Nashville, I drove straight to a steakhouse called J. Alexander’s. It was a Tuesday, and I had just driven six long hours from Mississippi. The restaurant was situated at the end of a strip mall in the suburbs. As soon as I walked in, I realized that it was definitely the sort of place that businessman go to for dinner after work. Everyone inside was well dressed, the lights were dimmed, and I could barely hear the hostess when I asked for a table. She motioned for me to step aside for a moment as a large group of businessmen entered, laughing boisterously, but I was seated shortly thereafter. I placed my order and began “people watching” as I waited for my food. Just a few tables away, three couples were enjoying their meals. They spoke over a bottle of wine, laughing raucously at one another’s jokes. At some point in their conversation, I saw one of the men take out a very small gun out of his shirt pocket and hand it to his friend across the table so that he could admire it. It was so casual, so friendly, but so foreign to me just the same.
In New Jersey where I grew up, there are incredibly strict gun laws that dictate that only registered security personal, police, or other qualified individuals are permitted to carry concealed firearms. Now, I did have exposure to pellet guns, rifles, and handguns in Pony Club and summer camp in Maine, but all of those experiences were in strictly controlled environments. Here, in a restaurant over dinner, it just seemed so out of place to me. In New Jersey, no one would ever see a moment like the one I just witnessed. Someone who grew up in Tennessee would not have had a second thought about it, because it would be fairly commonplace. It is amazing how where we grow up affects our perceptions about what is commonsense, acceptable, or cause for concern. That notion makes me wonder which of my opinions are truly well thought out and logical, and which ones are merely products of the environment in which I was raised.  As humans, do we perpetually favor what is familiar, regardless of the benefits of alternatives?
After dinner, I drove to the hotel that I had reserved. When I checked in, I let the gentleman behind the front desk know that I was having a small package arrive at the hotel, which contained the business cards for the blog. I was really excited to see how they turned out. The room wasn’t my favorite, but it was spacious and I got a good rate. I settled down for the evening, unpacked my copious amounts of stuff, and planned my trip to the Capitol and museum the next day.
I woke up on Wednesday morning and looked for a place to get breakfast. I decided to go to the Sky Blue Café. It was a little brick building on the corner right across the street from an elementary school. There were only 8 tables inside, but luckily there was one available when I arrived. I ordered my usual breakfast, and began working out some other scheduling details for the next few days. My food arrived sooner than I expected, and I was disappointed to see that my bacon wasn’t cooked thoroughly and that the eggs were runny. I ate most of my food, but I left feeling mildly unsatisfied.

It was a short drive to the Capitol, but parking was hard to find. The Capitol itself was situated at the top of an extremely steep hill, and the only parking spot I could find was all the way at the bottom of the hill. I gathered my camera and walked up the long hill, pausing occasionally to take a few pictures or to catch my breath. It was a grey, windy day and the statues on the grounds seemed to be warning me of an approaching storm with their solemn expressions and animated stances. In the rear of the building, and down two flights of stairs, there was a charming courtyard with two fountains and a statue of Andrew Jackson at the battle of New Orleans. Clark Mills of South Carolina, who sold a total of three copies throughout his life, is the craftsman. One stands near the White House in Washington D.C, one in Jackson Square in New Orleans, and the third here on the lawn of the Tennessee State Capitol.

         Architect William Strickland designed the Capitol, but died in 1854, shortly before its completion. His dying wish was to be buried in the walls of the Capitol, where he rests in the northeast corner of the building to this day. In 1880 Samuel Morgan, who was chairman of the Capitol Commission during the entirety of its construction, was buried in the southeast corner of the building. Some Capitol staff members, including policeman and maintenance workers, have claimed that they have heard strange noises or seen weird things while in the Capitol alone. There is a widespread belief that the Capitol is haunted, and considering that it is the only State Capitol to also be a mausoleum, I would not be surprised.
         I clambered up the final flights of steps, breathing heavily, and made my way to the front of the building, where the entrance for the public was. When I entered the building, a Capitol policeman informed me that I needed a photo ID to enter. Unfortunately, that photo ID was back in the car. I sullenly trudged back down the hill, retrieved my identification, and climbed slowly back up to the top, grumbling about unnecessary security measures. When I arrived at the entrance huffing and puffing, I handed over my ID and went through security.
         I went over to the tours and information desk, where a young woman was watching Netflix with her earphones in. As I approached, she paused what she was watching and asked if she could help me. I replied that I needed my book stamped. Without checking that the date was right, she pulled out the rubber stamp and stamped by book. I was frustrated to see that the date was incorrect, but I thanked her anyway, and began walking around. Throughout all of the rooms and halls, the walls were a grey stone, giving the building uniformity. The grey was so overpowering, however, that I felt that it took away from some of the decoration.
         One the first floor, there was the Governor’s Office and the old Supreme Court Chamber. The Supreme Court moved to its current building in Nashville in 1937, so now this room is used for formal addresses and committee meetings. There were three large windows with blue draperies on the far wall. The ceiling was arched, and there were several columns through the center of the room to support it, separating the audience from the five chairs in the front. The Governor’s Office had an atrium that served for office space for people that worked under the Governor. There were murals on each of the walls depicting scenes from Tennessee history. I wrote my name in the sign in book, and ventured upstairs.
         Unlike most of the capitols, the second floor of the Tennessee Capitol does not have a traditional rotunda. Instead, the space is dominated by 1 of 4 original chandeliers from the 1850s. The painting on the ceilings is subtle yet beautiful. The room to the right of the staircase is the House of Representatives. This room is the largest in the building, but there is a lack of natural light, which made it seem smaller than it actually is. This room has housed many historic events including the ratification of the 13th, 14th, and 19th amendments to the Constitution (a fact that is noted in the Capitol’s online virtual tour).  Outside the House chamber, there is a sitting area where people can relax. Just outside the large, glass doors is a balcony that gives a wonderful view of Nashville.
         Down the hall, there are two more notable rooms. First I went to the Senate Chamber, which was considerably smaller than the House Chamber. The legislature was not in session, so I was able to step onto the Senate floor. The room is decorated in period style, and like the House Chamber, has very few windows. Across the hall is a room that used to be the law library, but now it is used for committee meetings and small gatherings. The room still has its original cast iron spiral staircase, along with another original gasolier. The second and third rows of books remain in the space, giving it an appealing atmosphere. When I walked in, I noticed that there were a few gentlemen setting up the room for a congressional fundraiser.

          I left the building and climbed back down the hill to my car, only to discover that a black cover had been put over the parking meter that said, “Reserved. No Parking.” Although the museum was just around the corner, I decided to move my car before someone towed it away. I found a spot right outside, and I went in. Admission was free, which certainly made me happy. I went downstairs to start the main part of the exhibit. There were several permanent exhibits, including ‘First Tennesseans,’ ‘Frontier,’ ‘Age of Jackson,’ ‘Antebellum,’ ‘The Civil War’ and ‘Reconstruction,’ and ‘The New South.’ One of the notable artifacts was a bench that belonged to Davy Crockett, which was old and worn but wonderfully preserved. Davy Crockett is an American icon, frontiersman, and politician. He was born in 1786 in East Tennessee. As a teenager, he ran away from home after his father tried to whip him for skipping school. He returned home over a year later, returned to school for a short time, and worked off his father’s debt to two different men. Crockett served under Andrew Jackson during the Creek War, which was a series of bloody battles with the Creek Indians. Crockett spent most of his time in the military hunting for food to feed the other soldiers, a job that he felt was more suitable for him  than killing Creek Indians.
         Crockett was elected to the Tennessee General Assembly in 1821 and again in 1823. Throughout his political career, Crockett fought for the rights of impoverished farmers. He first ran for the United States House of Representatives in 1825, but was unsuccessful. While in Memphis, Crockett met mayor Marcus Brutus Winchester by chance, and gained his support and encouragement for another bid for Congress. Crockett was elected to the United States House of Representatives in 1827 and again in 1829. He disagreed with several of Andrew Jackson’s policies, and was known to support Jackson’s competitors during elections. He also differed from the opinions of all other congressmen from Tennessee on issues including land reform and the Indian Removal Act. Crockett was the only congressman from Tennessee to vote against the Indian Removal Act, and this decision cost him reelection in the 1831 election. Fed up with partisan politics, Crockett announced his intention in the famous quote, "I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I had done; but if not, they might go to hell, and I would go to Texas."
          Crockett did go to Texas, which was still the Mexican state of Tejas at the time. He fought in the Texas Revolution, and died in 1836 in the Battle of the Alamo, which is one of the most well known battles in Texas-American History. Davy Crockett was 50 years old when he died defending Texan Independence, a sacrifice that has earned him a portrait in the Texas State Capitol. Davy Crockett, along with Daniel Boone, hold a special place in American history as famous frontiersman. Both of them have been subject to larger than life legends and tales about their abilities, some of which overshadow the truly impressive facts about their lives. When one considers that Daniel Boone founded modern-day Kentucky, and Davy Crockett’s public service in the military as well as state and national legislatures, it is apparent that their accomplishments have made America what it is today.
        As I continued through the museum, I discovered one of the temporary exhibits, which was of a personal dulcimer collection. A dulcimer is a 4-string instrument in which the strings stretch the length of the body but do not extend on a neck like a guitar. Many of these dulcimers had been collected over a long period of time from antique stores and other places. As I was looking at some of the instruments, an older gentleman who worked at the museum began talking to me about music. He asked if I had been to the Opry yet and I replied that I hadn’t. He grinned and launched into a description of the Opry and what was interesting about it.
          The Grand Ole Opry is the longest running radio program in US history. WSM, a popular Nashville radio station, broadcasted a wide range of acts from this country music stage. The Grand Ole Opry has hosted everyone from Patsy Cline to Elvis Presley to Brad Paisley, and is possibly the most famous country music venue in the world. It started in 1925, and soon gained widespread popularity. In 1932, WSM increased its broadcasting power to most of the United States and even some parts of Canada. Soon, the Opry’s audience outgrew its venue, and it found a home at Ryman Auditorium in 1943, where it remained for the next thirty years. In the 1954, a teenage Elvis Presley came to the Opry to perform, but his rhythmic, bluesy style was a little too revolutionary for the audience, who was used to more conservative acts. After his performance, Opry manager Jim Denny told Elvis that he should return to Memphis to continue his truck-driving career, and Elvis swore that he would never return to the venue. He kept his word and did not return throughout his career, much to the chagrin of the Opry, I’m sure.
          In 1974, the Opry desired a new, permanent location for the show. They began construction on a massive entertainment complex that included the theme park, Opryland USA, and the Opryland Hotel. The Grand Ole Opry House opened two years after the theme park and the show has remained there ever since. One of the sentimental aspects of the new venue was a circle of wood from the Ryman Auditorium stage that was inlaid into the new stage at the Grand Ole Opry House. That way, each new performer stands on the same spot as the many great musicians that performed at the Opry for decades. The Grand Ole Opry is an American music icon that spans generations of country music fans. Because of its widespread popularity, the Opry greatly contributed to Nashville’s reputation, especially in 1950 when WSM announcer David Cobb proclaimed that Nashville was “Music City USA.” In many ways, it is the cornerstone of Nashville’s culture.
         After departing the museum, I returned to the hotel before starting the extensive packing up routine in preparation to drive to Montgomery, Alabama. Luckily, Montgomery was only 4 hours away. I wished I had more time in Nashville, as I knew that there were many other things to discover. Nashville, along with New Orleans, Austin, and some other stops along the way, had become a destination that I promised myself I would return to in the future.  I wanted more time in Nashville to see some of the other things that the Music City has to offer. I was thrilled with Nashville’s Capitol, as well as learning about Davy Crockett and the Grand Ole Opry. The following afternoon, I checked out and rejoined the road.

Jackson, Mississippi

I left New Orleans on a Sunday and began driving north. It was a beautiful day and the southern sun was beaming down from the heavens as the road disappeared beneath our tires. It was sort of bittersweet, leaving New Orleans; I had discovered there a kind of freedom of expression that is rare, yet contagious. I knew one day I’d make it back there, but for now, we had to move on.

Right over the state border, I saw a bumper sticker on the back of a red pick-up that said, “Gun control can’t fix stupid,” just as I passed the sign declaring, “Welcome to Mississippi.” I knew right away that this was going to be a very different place from the one that I grew up in, and in some ways, I felt like a stranger in my own country.

The following day was brightened by my visit to the Capitol. I found convenient parking right outside, and entered through the rear door. When I made it to the Tours and Information Desk, I learned that the next tour was starting in about fifteen minutes, so I walked around the ground floor of the building. There were portraits of past Governors lining the hallways of this classically designed building. An opening the ceiling revealed a glimpse of a breathtaking rotunda, illuminated by hundreds of lights. I could see that the marble and detailed painting was positively gorgeous, but I couldn’t get the full impression until I went upstairs.

Just a few minutes later, a young, clean-cut man walked over and introduced himself as my tour guide. Because I was the only visitor at the moment, I was blessed with the opportunity of a private tour. He began with a few general facts about the building. It was completed in 1903 and designed by Missouri architect Theodore Link. It stands at 180 feet, and the rotunda contains a total of 750 lights. Link wanted to put as much natural and artificial light throughout the building as possible, and so it became the emphasis of his design. Once a year, maintenance puts up a giant ladder and changes out all of the bulbs that have burned out, a process that takes the entire day.

Next, we walked out to the front of the building to look at the outside of the grand entranceway. Like many other Capitols, there was an immense grand staircase leading up to the soaring portico and columns framing the front doors. There is an area beneath the grand staircase with more practical doors than those that we had just exited from. There, vehicles can drop off legislators or other individuals while still protecting them from the elements. High above, atop the dome, there was a gold-covered copper eagle, standing eight feet tall and fifteen feet across. It was a truly handsome building, and one to be proud of.

We ventured back inside and upstairs, where I got my first uninhibited view of the rotunda. It was positively gorgeous, expansive, and bright. Blue and red were prominently featured colors, with red-tinged scagliola columns. Scagliola is made of different kinds of plaster mixed together and hardened to look like marble. In the early part of the 20th century when many State Capitols were being built, scagliola was a more economical alternative to marble, but due to the complex process and a lack of skilled craftsman to make it, scagliola is now more expensive than real marble. The only way one can tell them apart is by touching it. Marble is harder and usually cool to the touch, while scagliola is typically closer to room temperature.

The Governor’s office stands on the 3rd floor, overlooking the rotunda. Governor Phil Bryant chooses to keep his ceremonial office closed to public tours, despite the fact that his daily working office is in a completely different building. Our guide said that in the entire time that he had been working at the Capitol, which was the better part of a year, he had never seen the inside of it. At many other Capitols that I have visited, the Governor will allow public tours to view the ceremonial office if he or she does not also use it as a working office. It seemed a little strange to me that Governor Bryant did not extend that courtesy to his taxpayers, given that his daily working office was in an entirely different building.

We moved on to the Supreme Court Chamber, which has been used as a Committee room ever since the Supreme Court moved to their new building across the street. It is not an enormous room, but because of its white walls, ceiling, and floor, it gives the impression of being larger than it really is. I noticed that the door handles were simply decorated with a letter ‘M’ for Mississippi, as well as a mosaic forming another, much larger ‘M’ in the center of the tile floor. The decorations weren’t overly extravagant, but pleasant and tasteful just the same.

After seeing the Supreme Court Chamber, we walked to the Senate Chamber, which my guide told me was his favorite out of the two. It had a large atrium, with signs declaring dress code and chamber rules at the doors on either side. The chamber itself was beautiful, one of the more attractive ones so far. Above in the domed ceiling, a fabulous stained glass window allowed sunlight to shine onto the desks below. Behind the President of the Senate’s desk, a stunning backdrop of several different kinds of marble and scagliola stole the show. The desk itself was beautiful as well, made of a deep, lustrous wood. The Senator’s Chairs looked extremely comfortable, with thick cushions and high backs to support one’s head while sitting through long hours of debate and presentations. They seemed much more desirable than the hard, wooden seats that many other states provided for their legislators. The only thing that I did not like about the room was the carpet, which was a loud, complex design that looked as if it belonged back in a time of poor stylistic decision-making. My guide said that he believed it was put in during an extensive renovation in the 1980s, which would certainly explain the dreadful pattern.

We crossed the length of the building to peer into the House Chamber, which was larger than the Senate side. The room had a more circular, arched shape, with extravagantly painted details and moldings. The stained-glass window in the peak of this domed ceiling was similar to its sister in the Senate Chamber, but not quite the same. In contrast to the amazing backdrop behind the President of the Senate, the Speaker of the House must cope with a simpler, painted wall rather than the marble.

Our last stop was the fourth floor, where offices and other mundane rooms reside. The floor is made of thick, sturdy glass tiles that allow natural light from the skylights above to filter down to the third floor. It was an ingenious design technique that gave the building an even more open and bright feeling.

Some of the other artistic features of the building include three stained glass windows that depict scenes that are important to the culture of Mississippi. The one on the right shows an outdoorsman, pausing for a moment to take in the scenery as he toils away chopping wood. On the left, a Native American is shown as a testament to the significant influence that they have had on the history of Mississippi, including its namesake, which comes from a Native American word meaning, “Great River”. In the center, a representative figure sits regally on a throne, holding a book of knowledge and a sword. Also, the building still has one of its original elevators, which is still functional. The only other one that I had seen so far on my journey was in Kansas, where they employed a full-time elevator operator who spent her long days bringing Capitol staff, legislators, and visitors to whichever floor they desired.

I left the Capitol in a better mood than I had entered it in. I drove back to the hotel, and as I was making dinner, I began contemplating the historical events that made Mississippi what it is today.

Some of the most significant periods of Mississippi history were during the antebellum period, or the period before the Civil War. Mississippi was a major economic power in the antebellum era due to their lucrative cotton plantations. During the years leading up to the Civil War, cotton plantations became the most profitable cash crop in the United States, mostly at the expense of slaves and the lower class. Tobacco, which reduced its use of slavery during that time, was surpassed as the most prevalent cash crop for the first time in United States history. Only 5,000 plantation owners had more than 20 slaves, and these elite 5,000 held an inordinate amount of political and economic power. Because the majority of their wealth was earned on the backs of slaves, they did not wish to relinquish their power and this determination eventually grew into the decision to secede. During this time, Mississippi’s per capita wealth was greater than that of the rest of the United States, and because of this, even lower class whites were defensive of slavery as a “necessary evil” in the production of ‘King Cotton,’ the ruler of the economy. 

In many ways, the Civil War was about class warfare and diversifying the national economy in addition to the moral dilemma of slavery. When the northern states suffered through economic recession in the antebellum years, the Southern plantation owners remained unscathed. In fact, their profits rose as international and domestic demand for cotton increased and their labor expenses continued to be almost non-existent. Northerners looked at slavery as an unjust and cruel way to maintain profits and Southern elitist wealth, which fanned the flames of potential conflict. Most people in the South did not own slaves and many found the practice to be deplorable, but because slavery supported the local cotton economy, those that had doubts about slavery swallowed their personal opinions. It was also extremely unpopular to have such opinions, so social pressures added to the stalemate. It was a very complex issue, and at the time it was not nearly as obvious as it seems to us today. 

The Civil War signified a fall from power for the Southern white elites. The war not only altered the social dynamics of the region, but it also left a concrete, visible reminder of the violence. Afterwards, many of the Southern states were damaged, poor, and struggling to rebuild. Plantation owners no longer had a viable source of inexpensive labor, and many of the plantations were destroyed or converted to subsistence farms. People lost their homes, the towns were forced to rebuild, and the infrastructure took decades to recover. It was a very slow and agonizing healing process for a region that was doing very well just a short time previously. Since the Civil War, Mississippi has never ascended to the position of comparable economic and political power that it held during the antebellum period. Because of this drastic societal change and physical devastation, it is understandable why some people who grew up in the South would look at it as tyrannical oppression by the Union, rather than justifiable force used to keep the United States intact. There is rarely a simple resolution to such a complicated situation, especially when there are so many different people involved, all of whom have different perspectives, opinions, and backgrounds.

Understandably, the museums in the South tend to focus on the Civil War, its turbulence, and the subsequent negative outcomes. Southern states have also used symbolism and art to honor certain aspects of the antebellum time period, like Andrew Jackson’s Presidency. Mississippi’s capital city, Jackson, is even named in President Jackson’s honor, and most Capitols in the South have a statue of him right out front, whereas most of the northern states have statues of Lincoln or Washington prominently displayed on their Capitol grounds. There is a particularly intense devotion to Jackson in the South, despite some of his more controversial decisions. This idealization is particularly amusing for me, because as I as mentioned in the New Orleans post, Jackson owes his Presidency to a pirate. If the pirate Jean Laffite and his crew of smugglers had not agreed to help Andrew Jackson and his small company of soldiers in their defense of New Orleans, Jackson would not have won the battle, become a decorated war hero, or have ascended to the Presidency and gained such widespread fame in the South. Most people choose not to remember this tidbit.

After a long night of research and writing, I woke up on Tuesday prepared to tackle the day. I made coffee and began gathering my various belongings, which seemed to have multiplied since I left New Jersey. After I checked out, I drove down the street to a Cracker Barrel to get a quick bite to eat. One of the disadvantages of growing up in New Jersey is that one becomes accustomed to the perpetual availability of breakfast food, usually at a reliably decent diner. In the rest of the country, true diners are rare, and most places stop serving breakfast at 11am, so Cracker Barrel was my only option. Let’s face facts; it takes talent to screw up eggs and bacon.

As I waited for my food, I contemplated one of Mississippi’s nicknames, “The Hospitality State.” That morning when I had checked out of my hotel, I had been unceremoniously hurried from my room by a very sassy housekeeper, who was eagerly awaiting my departure so that she could finish her work for the day. Not only that, but I had the misfortune of picking what was possibly the most grumpy Cracker Barrel in the south, as I only received a snarled grimace from fellow patrons when I happened to catch their gaze and smile. From my experience that morning, it seemed amusingly ironic that Mississippi was called “The Hospitality State” when I had received a much warmer welcome in practically every other state that I had been to. 

Cranky demeanors aside, my trip to Mississippi was an interesting one. I loved the tour of the Capitol, and learning about its history. I appreciated the emphasis on light in the design, as Capitols are always more enjoyable if there is something unique about them. Learning about Mississippi history and some of the aspects of the Civil War was intriguing because it allowed me to see a controversial conflict from the other side. Having grown up in the North, it is easy for me to sympathize with the motives of the Union, but learning more about the Southern perspective gave me a greater appreciation for the complexity of the Civil War. It had been an eye-opening experience, but now, it was time to move on.  

I paid for my meal and walked outside to my car, pausing for moment to bask in the warmth of the southern sun. I had a long day of travel ahead, but I was eager to arrive in my next destination. I set my sights for Nashville, Tennessee and began the six-hour drive through Alabama.

New Orleans

Although New Orleans is not a capital city, it is one of the most culturally rich cities in America, and it has played an integral part in our history. Given the ultimate goal of this project, to bring the United States closer together through the cultural history of our states, I felt that it was only fitting to include New Orleans. 

I woke up on Halloween morning in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was a blustery, cloudy day and there was rain in the forecast. After packing up my life in the car yet again, I set off to tour the Old State House before driving an hour to New Orleans for the weekend. It promised to be a trip to remember.

The drive seemed to melt away before me and before I knew it I was approaching the city limits of the original City of Sin. Just east of the city on I-10, the freeway morphed in to a vast bridge that spanned the Louisiana Bayou, a mysterious swampland of endless varieties of flora and fauna. It was a rainy day and the highway and power lines vanished into the fog of the marshes. Before long New Orleans began to appear in the distance.

I arrived at the hotel shortly after check in time and was whisked upstairs to the 17th floor by a jovial bellman. I unpacked in my cramped accommodations, and planned the details of my evening. It was Halloween, and I had hastily bought a costume the day before. The only one available that looked remotely comfortable was a cop outfit, so I donned my festive attire and set out for the French Quarter.

My hotel was on St. Charles Avenue, just on the other side of Canal St. from the French Quarter. It allowed me to remain in walking distance from the sightseeing spots, but still have a little bit of distance from the craziness. It wasn’t long before I reached Bourbon St. and the famous “party that never ends.” Halloween is second only to Mardi Gras for the level of celebration that sweeps the French Quarter, which predominantly consists of tourists. Many of the locals have grown tired of the goings on in the French Quarter, and if you ask any one of them, they will say that they will only work there if they have to. For tourists, it is definitely something you should experience at least once in your life. Even if the novelty of carrying around an alcoholic beverage in a plastic to-go cup on the street isn’t especially appealing to you, the French Quarter attracts an extraordinary variety of talents, from fire swallowing to live jazz along with countless art galleries and antique stores. There is quite literally something for everyone, whether or not you have come to the Big Easy for questionable pursuits. I believe that both artistic expression and controversial exploits make New Orleans what it is, and contribute to its society of great joyousness and indulgence as well as perpetual strife. It is a very old, complex, and turbulent city with many positive and negative qualities. One thing is for certain - there isn’t anywhere else quite like New Orleans.

I planned to spend Halloween night taking the Haunted History Tour, which is a famous tour around the French Quarter to historical sights with ghostly stories attached to them. After walking the length of Bourbon St. and taking in the sights, I traveled to Reverend Zombie’s Voodoo Shop, where the tours were set to start from. I arrived and presented my confirmation email on my phone, was handed a sticker, and got in line. Soon, a group of about 15 people including myself were pared with a boisterous guide with a foreign accent, and off we went. After taking us around the corner to Pirate’s Alley, where historically Pirates were known to make black market deals, our guide introduced himself and gave us an overview of what to expect. He explain that he originally moved to New Orleans from overseas to complete his graduate degree, but six years later he was still in New Orleans and still did not have his degree. Instead, he fell in love with the lifestyle of New Orleans, which is why he decided to pursue the honorable duty of regaling tourists with the stories that make New Orleans unique.

He started by giving a background of New Orleans history. For one, the majority of the French Quarter burned several times throughout history, and was largely reconstructed during the time that the Spanish owned Louisiana. As a result, many of the buildings in the French Quarter are in fact, Spanish. These fires also created a severe amount of suffering, one of the most powerful of human emotions. Many people believe that ghosts or other mysterious occurrences are a result of the mark left behind by human suffering. Our guide explained that he would present the stories of ghostly activity here in New Orleans, but it was up to us to decide if we believed in it.

As the tour commenced, rain began to pour. Various people in the group began to drop out and soon we were left with a following about half its original size. Our guide was thrilled that there were a handful of hardy individuals, myself included, who stuck it out through the nasty weather, and promised to try to keep us as dry as possible.

Then, we went to an elementary school, and our group paused across the street under a balcony sheltered from the rain, eager to hear the story behind it. Here, back in the 1950s, Elvis was seated under a tree in the corner of the parking lot, filming a movie. Surrounding him were crowds of admirers watching the most famous man on the planet with unwavering adoration. Upstairs, classes were progressing as usual, and a young boy was distracted. He desperately wanted to go outside and be apart of the excitement, so he raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could go to the restroom. As soon as he left the classroom, he hurried down the stairs and out the back door. He grasped a piece of schoolwork in his hands as he walked straight up to the King of Rock n’ Roll and asked for his autograph. Elvis, despite being right in the middle of filming, graciously acquiesced. As he handed the paper back to the little boy, Elvis told him that he would be someone someday. Thrilled, a young Richard Simmons returned to his classroom, having just experienced one of the coolest things that could ever happen to anyone. Interestingly enough, it was a classroom that he happened to share with Lee Harvey Oswald, the man who assassinated JFK. Boy, what an interesting class that must have been.

Next our boisterous guide took us to the oldest building used as a bar in America, Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop Bar. It dates back to the 1700s, having been one of the only buildings to survive the two great fires of New Orleans, which happened in 1788 and 1794. Back then pirates ran extensive black market smuggling operations in New Orleans. This tavern used to be a blacksmith’s shop, and it was a meeting spot where pirates would come to report on their plunders or store smuggled goods. The story is that one of the most famous pirates in history, Jean Lafitte, heard that some of his men were lining their own pockets with his profits. To make an example of them, Lafitte tied the three men up and lined them up in front of a roaring fire. He pushed the first one into flames, making his friends watch as he slowly burned alive, screaming in agony. Then he did the same with the second and the third pirate, but not before the third one suffered through witnessing his friends burn alive. Tourists who come to the bar have taken pictures of the fireplace, and some have report ghostly images of a face appearing in their photographs. Those that believe in such things say that it was the third pirate, so traumatized by seeing his comrades burn that his ghost remained as a testament to their suffering.

Jean Lafitte is an icon in New Orleans. Though some aspects of his life are subject to debate, there are a few well-established facts. Along with his brother Pierre, Jean Lafitte was one of the most powerful pirates in the Caribbean. He ran a lucrative smuggling business, selling anything from gunpowder to slaves between New Orleans and the island of Barataria, located in Barataria Bay, off Louisiana’s coast. The Americans raided Lafitte’s colony on Barataria, seizing his ships and goods. During the war of 1812, Lafitte received an offer from the British Navy to join their forces against the Americans, but he refused and instead offered his services to Governor William Claiborne, who initially refused. Many of Lafitte’s men were angry about the raid on Barataria, and didn’t want to help the Americans anyway. When Lafitte met with Andrew Jackson in December of 1814, Lafitte managed to negotiate a pardon for himself and his men in return for their support in the war. New Orleans was poorly defended, and didn’t even have enough sailors to man the ships. Andrew Jackson needed all the help he could get so he agreed to the deal, and the Louisiana State Legislature petitioned the United States Government for a pardon. After the Battle of New Orleans was a resounding success, partially due to Lafitte and his men, the US Government granted them a full pardon. Although many choose to remember him for the cruel, lawless man that he was, Lafitte clearly did a positive thing for New Orleans even if it was for selfish reasons. Not only that, but Andrew Jackson would likely not have won the Battle of New Orleans had Lafitte not helped him. Because of that fact, Andrew Jackson owes his presidency and his historical legacy to a pirate, which is not often discussed by those that look upon Andrew Jackson with rose-colored lenses.

There were several other stops on the Haunted History Tour, but many of them seemed to be rooted in more fantasy than historical fact. Though they were all incredibly entertaining, some of the details elude me, and I would not want to recount any of them inaccurately. For anyone who plans on visiting New Orleans, and I firmly believe everyone should at least once, I highly recommend the Haunted History Tour. It very interesting and entertaining and an inexpensive thing to do for tourists that want to know a little more about the city.

The next day, I went on the Natchez Steamboat Tour. It is one of only two true steam powered vessels that traverse the Mississippi today. In addition to tours of the Mississippi River, the Natchez also takes part in annual steamboat races, and is undefeated to this day. They snapped my picture as I boarded the boat, and after I quickly explored its interior, I found a spot to sit on the second floor of the balcony. One of my college applications was due that day, and while I was waiting for the tour to start, I quickly submitted the final version and paid the application fee on my phone. Oh, the beauty of the 21st century. Soon, a man’s voice boomed over a megaphone, signaling the start of the journey. We took off from the dock and began drifting lazily down the Mississippi while the gentleman with the megaphone narrated the experience. First, he pointed out Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral, two iconic landmarks in the French Quarter. As the tour continued, we saw the levees that broke during Hurricane Katrina, and the neighborhoods beyond that have still not recovered from the devastation. As we passed by old military buildings and other landmarks, our guide pointed out a specific house. It had a balcony on the second floor, and a man was standing on it, waving to the group. Apparently this gentleman made it a habit of greeting the daily tours while standing on his balcony, and was known well by the captain and crew. We also passed by the Domino Sugar factory, and a number of different vessels, from cargo ships to oil tankers. After a while the narration reached an end, and the lovely Natchez turned around to return us to the shore.

 It is truly impossible to encapsulate the glory of New Orleans within the confines of this blog. The sights, the people, and the experiences are one of a kind, and to fully appreciate it you must visit yourself. I have included the parts of my visit that are the most relevant to my journey as a whole, but I assure you it is not the entire story. If there is one thing that I want to impress upon my readers with this post in particular it is that traveling, especially to New Orleans, will change your life. For me, it opened up a whole new understanding of the nature of humanity, and the culture of our incredible country. People in America, and pretty much everywhere else, just want to be accepted, quirks and all and be free to make their own choices about how they wish to live. In New Orleans, this is the essence of the cultural mentality, and the diversity of the city reflects that idea. In this way, it mirrors the United States as a whole. We all dance to the rhythm of a free nation, and we should celebrate the glorious differences that it creates.