I have been in love with New Orleans since I was nineteen years old. That is when I traveled there on my honeymoon during the peak of the Vietnam War. The world was so uncertain then that marrying early seemed like a reasonable thing to do. Many of my friends were already hitched or planning a wedding for the coming weeks. When I look back on that time I am flabbergasted that my husband and I have made it through fifty eight years and counting.
Mike had gone to college at Loyola University in New Orleans and found that it was not a good fit for him. After a couple of years he returned to Houston and enrolled at the University of Houston where his life took a positive turn. We met each other at a birthday party for one of my cousins who had invited me because she and I often saw each other at school. She invited Mike because he had been a childhood friend of my cousin. Fate intervened and the rest of the story has played out for almost sixty years.
Of course Mike wanted to show me New Orleans for our honeymoon. We were both still students and had to plan our celebratory adventure over a weekend so that we would not miss any of our classes. It was also a wise move because we had limited funds for any kind of trip. We flew into New Orleans in what was my first time in an airplane so that alone was exciting.
Mike had made reservations at Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter. I remember feeling as though I was in a foreign nation when the taxicab turned onto the narrow streets of our destination. The beautiful old buildings with their wrought iron balconies and colorful stucco and bricks were enchanting and I fell in love with the place in a way that has only grown over the years.
As fate would have it the hotel was being renovated at the time so we walked on plywood boards in the lobby. Even with all of the construction I saw the beauty of the place and felt the excitement that lay ahead. Everything was luxurious and the people working there overlooked our youthfulness and treated us as though we were celebrities.
We toured the area and the museums and even went to mass in St. Louis Cathedral. We rode the streetcar down Canal Street to walk around the Loyola campus and saunter through Audubon Park. We munched on beignet at Cafe du Monde and sipped steaming cups of coffee. We ate muffuletta’s at Central Grocery and enjoyed the pralines at Aunt Sally’s. We walked along the Mississippi River and took dozens of photos in Jackson Square. We had the best dinner that I had ever experienced at Broussard’s and sat on the patio at Pat O’Brien’s. Since I had no experience whatsoever with alcohol I settled for a breeze rather than a hurricane and laughed at the idea that I was legal in New Orleans but not back home. We walked up and down Bourbon Street and I gawked at everything like someone who had been living on a farm for all of my life. I even got asked for my driver’s license when we attempted to go into a jazz club but I did not have a license to show them because I had not yet learned how to drive. The insurance for such a thing would have cost more than my mother had to pay.
We flew back home after a few days like two innocents who had no idea what challenges lay before us. We were happy and convinced that together we were going to build a great life. As fate would have it we were challenged over and over again with difficulties that might have made all of our plans and dreams fall apart. Somehow we always found the ways to get beyond the major illnesses and difficulties that came again and again. In the process we had two lovely daughters and both of us earned our college degrees. We built incredible friendships, purchased a home, succeeded in our careers and travelled back to New Orleans time and again. Sometimes with our children, later with our grandchildren, always sharing our love for the city with them.
This year was our fifty eighth year together as husband and wife. We went back to the Hotel Monteleone and to the wonders of New Orleans that we had always loved. We thought of how we had grieved after hurricane Katerina when it was uncertain that the city would be able to rise again. We embarked on a food fest that included yet another visit to Broussard’s where we were feted with champagne and a scrumptious dinner. We rode on the streetcar again and walked around a Loyola campus that had grown. We went to Arnaud’s and finally to Commander’s Palace enjoying incredible cuisine and New Orleans hospitality. We found a history center on Royal St. that was enchanting and sheltered us from the heat and humidity. Of course we visited St. Louis Cathedral and the Faulkner bookstore where I always purchase a tome or two. We bought dozens of pralines at Aunt Sally’s to take to our daughters and grandchildren and sat at Cafe du Monde thinking back on all of the times that we had returned . On our last morning we had breakfast at Brennan’s and then walked down to Central Grocery and purchased muffuletta’s for the road.
For some people Disney World is the way to escape from the realities of the world. For me and Mike it is New Orleans and always will be. We feel the magic there. It has become part of our history together and always makes us smile.
