| Biographical Non-Fiction posted July 17, 2020 | Chapters: |
...49 50 -51- 52... 
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Exploring New Orleans
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
The Beginning of a New Adventure
by BethShelby
| Background My husband has been transferred from Jackson, Mississippi to New Orleans. As he starts his job working in the downtown area, the children and I decide to spend a little time exploring the city. |
The apartment we rented in Metairie, Louisiana was in a large complex. It was a second floor apartment with an outside entrance which meant climbing a narrow staircase. I’m sure the movers weren’t so pleased when they realized they had to take a piano up those stairs. We should have stored it, because I don’t remember anyone ever playing it while we were there. Since the neighbors were so close, we didn’t want to make too much noise, although the apartment below us did play loud music at times and have parties that went on late into the night.
The children were thrilled that the complex had a pool. You never went in it, but the kids and I did. It wasn't long before they met other children that lived in some of the other apartments. I could swim, but not that well, and certainly not well enough to stay afloat with someone on my back. I remember a little boy named Tommy who decided to climb on my back in the water. I actually thought he was going to make me drown. He was playing, but I’d fought my way back to the surface for the third time, when Christi noticed the distressed expression on my face as I came up sputtering and coughing. She yelled “Get off her. You’re killing my mama.” Thankfully he did.
You went to work the Monday after we moved in, and I went to the school to see about getting the children set up for classes. The kids went with me. It was early September, and classes had been in session about a week. When we arrived the principal, who was also a teacher, was talking to a Spanish lady in the foyer. We stood and waited for the conversation to finish. The lady was angry, or at least excited and extremely animated. She spoke loudly with a strong accent that made her hard to understand. She was trying to defend her son who had gotten into some kind of trouble. I felt something tugging on my skirt as I stood waiting, and I looked down into the tragic face of my son. Tears were streaming down his face, and it was apparent that he was frightened out of his wits.
At least half of the children in the school were Spanish or of some other nationality. The grades in this school were combined as the Jackson school had been, but only two grades were together. This time Carol, who would be in fifth, would be with the fifth and sixth graders and Don and Christi who were in fourth grade would be with the third and fourth graders. I made arrangements for them to start the following Monday.
Since the kids didn’t have to be in school this first week, I went out and bought a book about the city, and we went exploring. The very first thing I learned was that the city was divided into various districts. There was the Garden district which was filled with beautiful antebellum homes and gardens. St. Charles Avenue leads through this area, and further down on Magazine Street is the Audubon Zoo and park. At that time, admission to the zoo was free, and I knew we would be spending a lot of time there.
The French Quarter was one place I was anxious to visit, but I didn’t know how safe it was, and I wanted to wait for you before we did that part of town. I wanted to explore the stores on Canal Street and ride the street cars. There was so much to see and do that I didn’t quite know where to start. That first day, we’d dropped you off at work and agreed to pick you up in the afternoon when you got off work. We did quite a bit of driving over the area and checking out interesting things.
We still had over an hour before we had to pick you up, so I decided it would be fun to go to the top of a tall building and look out over the city from above. In 1972, The World Trade Center was one of the taller buildings, at thirty-three stories. There was an elevator to the top where you could walk out and look over the city and the Mississippi River. We found a parking place by a meter and went in the front entrance. The guard at the front desk asked if he could help me, and I told him the children and I would like to go up to the top and look out. He told me he was sorry, but there was no one up there, and that the building had closed for the day. Seeing my disappointment, he reconsidered. “I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you all go up there,” he said. “Just take the elevator all the way to the top, and you can get out and walk around and look at the city. It’s a great view.”
We took the elevator to the top and emerged into a large open area. There was a wall to prevent a person from falling over the side, but it was low enough for all of us to see over. We could walk far enough around to see most of downtown and the Mississippi River. We enjoyed looking around for while. I noticed a door to the side of the elevator. I wondered if there was a telephone inside where I might be able to call you and let you know where we were, in case we were a few minutes late picking you up. I opened a very thick door and walked in, but once inside I realized there was nothing there except a stairwell that led all thirty-three floors down. I turned to go out, only to find the door through which I had entered was locked to the outside.
I started yelling for the children to come open the door, but the thickness of the door prevented any sound from escaping from my side. I knew the children couldn’t hear my voice. I was wearing high-heeled shoes, so I pulled one off and used the heel to bang on the door, but still no one could hear me. Panic was setting in. I could imagine my accident-prone son climbing up on the wall and falling thirty-three stories to his death.
I hadn’t told the children that I was looking for a phone, and doubted if they knew the door was there. What would they do when they saw I was missing? I was crying and praying and imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios. Then suddenly the door opened and Carol says, “Oh, thank goodness, there you are. I thought you’d left us.” I was so relieved. I gathered my kids together and we took the elevator down. I don’t think I ever went into that building again. We barely made it in time to pick you up.
I can usually be depended on to do something to get myself in trouble. I guess all is well that ends well. I’d had enough adventure for one day. It wouldn’t be the last time I found a reason to panic in this city.
The children were thrilled that the complex had a pool. You never went in it, but the kids and I did. It wasn't long before they met other children that lived in some of the other apartments. I could swim, but not that well, and certainly not well enough to stay afloat with someone on my back. I remember a little boy named Tommy who decided to climb on my back in the water. I actually thought he was going to make me drown. He was playing, but I’d fought my way back to the surface for the third time, when Christi noticed the distressed expression on my face as I came up sputtering and coughing. She yelled “Get off her. You’re killing my mama.” Thankfully he did.
You went to work the Monday after we moved in, and I went to the school to see about getting the children set up for classes. The kids went with me. It was early September, and classes had been in session about a week. When we arrived the principal, who was also a teacher, was talking to a Spanish lady in the foyer. We stood and waited for the conversation to finish. The lady was angry, or at least excited and extremely animated. She spoke loudly with a strong accent that made her hard to understand. She was trying to defend her son who had gotten into some kind of trouble. I felt something tugging on my skirt as I stood waiting, and I looked down into the tragic face of my son. Tears were streaming down his face, and it was apparent that he was frightened out of his wits.
At least half of the children in the school were Spanish or of some other nationality. The grades in this school were combined as the Jackson school had been, but only two grades were together. This time Carol, who would be in fifth, would be with the fifth and sixth graders and Don and Christi who were in fourth grade would be with the third and fourth graders. I made arrangements for them to start the following Monday.
Since the kids didn’t have to be in school this first week, I went out and bought a book about the city, and we went exploring. The very first thing I learned was that the city was divided into various districts. There was the Garden district which was filled with beautiful antebellum homes and gardens. St. Charles Avenue leads through this area, and further down on Magazine Street is the Audubon Zoo and park. At that time, admission to the zoo was free, and I knew we would be spending a lot of time there.
The French Quarter was one place I was anxious to visit, but I didn’t know how safe it was, and I wanted to wait for you before we did that part of town. I wanted to explore the stores on Canal Street and ride the street cars. There was so much to see and do that I didn’t quite know where to start. That first day, we’d dropped you off at work and agreed to pick you up in the afternoon when you got off work. We did quite a bit of driving over the area and checking out interesting things.
We still had over an hour before we had to pick you up, so I decided it would be fun to go to the top of a tall building and look out over the city from above. In 1972, The World Trade Center was one of the taller buildings, at thirty-three stories. There was an elevator to the top where you could walk out and look over the city and the Mississippi River. We found a parking place by a meter and went in the front entrance. The guard at the front desk asked if he could help me, and I told him the children and I would like to go up to the top and look out. He told me he was sorry, but there was no one up there, and that the building had closed for the day. Seeing my disappointment, he reconsidered. “I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you all go up there,” he said. “Just take the elevator all the way to the top, and you can get out and walk around and look at the city. It’s a great view.”
We took the elevator to the top and emerged into a large open area. There was a wall to prevent a person from falling over the side, but it was low enough for all of us to see over. We could walk far enough around to see most of downtown and the Mississippi River. We enjoyed looking around for while. I noticed a door to the side of the elevator. I wondered if there was a telephone inside where I might be able to call you and let you know where we were, in case we were a few minutes late picking you up. I opened a very thick door and walked in, but once inside I realized there was nothing there except a stairwell that led all thirty-three floors down. I turned to go out, only to find the door through which I had entered was locked to the outside.
I started yelling for the children to come open the door, but the thickness of the door prevented any sound from escaping from my side. I knew the children couldn’t hear my voice. I was wearing high-heeled shoes, so I pulled one off and used the heel to bang on the door, but still no one could hear me. Panic was setting in. I could imagine my accident-prone son climbing up on the wall and falling thirty-three stories to his death.
I hadn’t told the children that I was looking for a phone, and doubted if they knew the door was there. What would they do when they saw I was missing? I was crying and praying and imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios. Then suddenly the door opened and Carol says, “Oh, thank goodness, there you are. I thought you’d left us.” I was so relieved. I gathered my kids together and we took the elevator down. I don’t think I ever went into that building again. We barely made it in time to pick you up.
I can usually be depended on to do something to get myself in trouble. I guess all is well that ends well. I’d had enough adventure for one day. It wouldn’t be the last time I found a reason to panic in this city.
 Recognized |
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents
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