Ovah Her’ah
Took the boys down River Road to see the plantations or at least those still standing. Between New Orleans and the plantations lies a chemically altered landscape of oil refineries that has removed bucolic from the description and replaced it with horrific. Yes, and some people call it home, but still. Nonetheless, I’m sure we can all think back to the plantations as horrific as well.
We stopped at Destrehan but didn’t go on the tour, then we went to San Francisco Plantation where the staff was so weird, we decided to mosey on before they charged us for breathing. $10 to look and use the bathroom. Then we ended up crossing the river and stopping at Oak Alley – the only plantation you actually need to go to.
On the tour, we learned about the family, the lifestyle, the deaths and marriages of all the people who lived in the big mansion, but we heard zilch, squat, nothing about the people who ran the plantation (aka the slaves). You’d think in this day and age maybe the narrative might include that part of the story.
The last time I was at Oak Alley, I recall a young woman walking up and speaking to the group as if she had marbles in her mouth so poor was her diction. She ended up being our docent. Now that is horrific. Today, our docent was much improved, even if the narrative was not.