B
brotherhrolf
Guest
Palmas did a great job. But I’m surprised he accepted a fava bean. My mother always told me to refuse it because it was the Italians “passing their bad luck off to us Irish” 
And, no, I’m not making that up!
Seriously though, the most magnificent St. Joseph’s altar was to be found on the steps of St. Joseph’s Church on Tulane Ave. I wish I could find a picture of it. I had to go home on the bus from high school each year.
And speaking of buses. No one does it now, anywhere I’ve been but up until the 70s it was not at all unusual to see people making the sign of the cross as a bus or streetcar passed by a church.
Palmas, didn’t mention All Saint’s Day. Before All Saint’s Day, everyone would take buckets, scrub brushes, white wash, and paint brushes and head to the cemetary. It was usually done on the weekend before and a picnic lunch was packed. In my family, my great-aunt Claire was the matriarch of the family. My family’s tomb was a raised masonry tomb filled with earth and surrounded by marble vases. It was the duty of the kids to go to the faucets provided and bring back buckets of water into which detergent was poured. The exterior of the raised tomb was scrubbed and the weeds were picked out of the earth. The marble was scrubbed and the brass was polished. Then everything was rinsed with clean water.
A break was taken and everyone ate lunch - ham sandwiches with potato salad. When the tomb was dry, it was whitewashed fresh and new. Around 2 pm, everyone would head off to the small chapel for a prayer service.
On All Saint’s Day, the family would place flowers on the tomb. The cemetaries were filled with families.
In today’s world, the Archdiocese gives you five minutes to drive your car through, jump out, and place your flowers. We do what we have to given what is going on.
I’m sure Palmas will remember that during the 60s, Good Friday was so sacred that no movies were shown. Yep, the theatres closed as well as the restaurants.
But in the 70s things changed. I’m not in a position to state exactly what happened. Lots of folks had moved to the suburbs. My folks moved in 55 out to extreme west Metairie. But we had a neighborhood! Of the fourteen houses on our block, eight were Catholic. When Katrina came through, although my mother and father were gone, there were still five of the original neighbors still living there. And, yes, I did get in contact with their kids to find out how they were doing. As did my sister.
On another note. I’ve lived up here in Baton Rouge for 30 years. I am a member of the last graduating class of St. Aloysius High School and there are enough of my fellow Crusaders that we now have an alumni chapter here in Baton Rouge.
And, no, I’m not making that up!Seriously though, the most magnificent St. Joseph’s altar was to be found on the steps of St. Joseph’s Church on Tulane Ave. I wish I could find a picture of it. I had to go home on the bus from high school each year.
And speaking of buses. No one does it now, anywhere I’ve been but up until the 70s it was not at all unusual to see people making the sign of the cross as a bus or streetcar passed by a church.
Palmas, didn’t mention All Saint’s Day. Before All Saint’s Day, everyone would take buckets, scrub brushes, white wash, and paint brushes and head to the cemetary. It was usually done on the weekend before and a picnic lunch was packed. In my family, my great-aunt Claire was the matriarch of the family. My family’s tomb was a raised masonry tomb filled with earth and surrounded by marble vases. It was the duty of the kids to go to the faucets provided and bring back buckets of water into which detergent was poured. The exterior of the raised tomb was scrubbed and the weeds were picked out of the earth. The marble was scrubbed and the brass was polished. Then everything was rinsed with clean water.
A break was taken and everyone ate lunch - ham sandwiches with potato salad. When the tomb was dry, it was whitewashed fresh and new. Around 2 pm, everyone would head off to the small chapel for a prayer service.
On All Saint’s Day, the family would place flowers on the tomb. The cemetaries were filled with families.
In today’s world, the Archdiocese gives you five minutes to drive your car through, jump out, and place your flowers. We do what we have to given what is going on.
I’m sure Palmas will remember that during the 60s, Good Friday was so sacred that no movies were shown. Yep, the theatres closed as well as the restaurants.
But in the 70s things changed. I’m not in a position to state exactly what happened. Lots of folks had moved to the suburbs. My folks moved in 55 out to extreme west Metairie. But we had a neighborhood! Of the fourteen houses on our block, eight were Catholic. When Katrina came through, although my mother and father were gone, there were still five of the original neighbors still living there. And, yes, I did get in contact with their kids to find out how they were doing. As did my sister.
On another note. I’ve lived up here in Baton Rouge for 30 years. I am a member of the last graduating class of St. Aloysius High School and there are enough of my fellow Crusaders that we now have an alumni chapter here in Baton Rouge.
I hope to visit my Brother & SIL who live in Slidell this year and I will make it a point to visit some of the beautiful churches you and Palmas mentioned. Please feel free to tell us more about what it was like living in New Orleans “back in the day,” it is so interesting!:yup:
. That makes me ill.