What Happens in the French Quarter...

Emmie Sings Da Blues

A few years ago, during an impromptu trip to Louisiana and New Orleans, my youngest chick posed in front of an art gallery near Bourbon Street. The French Quarter causes a lot of otherwise sane and serious folk to kick up their heels, laugh, and consume huge amounts of gumbo and beignets.

During this time I was discovering the internet's allure of geneology spelunking and was most anxious to visit the little town of Pointe Coupee ( near Marksville) where my French ancestors settled after leaving their homeland. Part of my pre-trip research led me to a plantation just outside New Roads and the False River that was built only a few years earlier than one owned by a distant DeCuir relative. The Parlange Plantation is a lovely example of the French Colonial period and we were given a very gracious tour by the lady of the manor. Just as we entered the front parlor, I noticed an old family bible lying open to the family tree. Scanning the names, I exclaimed aloud when one in particular caught my eye - Pierre Mayeaux. As it turned out, the owners and myself were cousins, quite distant and many generations past, but related all the same!

You can read more about my ragin' cajun history in an older post, Crawdads In My Past.




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