Lost Metairie

From ancient bayous to beloved old businesses, Metairie has changed dramatically over generations. Many of those landmarks are lost to time; the lake, railroads and a beach resort were popular features in the early days. A streetcar ran through the short-lived City of Metairie Ridge, where gambling houses and dog tracks contributed more tax dollars than did the few residents. Old Bucktown was famous for its seafood. Fat City, once notorious for its nightlife, has seen better days. Author Catherine Campanella takes a look back at the schools, shops, bars, restaurants, alligator farms, bowling alleys, drive-ins and movie theaters from a bygone era.

Humans first inhabited Metairie after the Mississippi River flowed through it, leaving behind natural levees--as well as Bayou Metairie--along Metairie Road. After the surrounding swampland was drained, other areas were developed, and in 2020, Metairie became the sixth-largest census designated place in the nation.

Pleasure seekers have visited Lake Pontchartrain destinations for more than two centuries. From grand resorts like the Pontchartrain Hotel to simple camps at Little Woods, these shores welcomed visitors by steamboat and train to dance, dine, drink and gamble. Milneburg was home to a noted hotel and bathhouses, while Mandeville was a popular spot to escape the heat. Entertainment included the contortionist "Happy Frog" Holman, the Great Wallendas and Armand Piron's Jazz Orchestra. Join author Catherine Campanella for a fascinating look back at the camps, restaurants and amusement parks lost to nature, neglect and changing times.

1963- includes "Six-months' summary" at end of June and Dec.

In the wake of the 1919 White Sox scandal and the suspension for life of eight players, baseball saw a precipitous decline in popularity, especially among America's youth. To combat this, a group of World War I veterans who were members of the newly formed American Legion created an organization to promote teenage interest in baseball. Led by John L. Griffith, who became the first commissioner of the Big Ten Conference, the Legion undertook the revival of baseball. In the 1920s and through the Great Depression and World War II, Legion baseball grew steadily. By 1950 it had become the principal training ground for major league players, boasting at its peak more than 16,000 teams across the country. Tracing the long history of this uniquely American institution, this work details each year's American Legion World Series and the ups and downs of participation over nearly a century.

Katty Stewart, Elizabeth (Moosie) White, Walker Ellis and Walter Stauffer were socialites born in New Orleans around the turn of the 20th century. Among their ancestors were Confederate soldiers, plantation owners, self-made millionaires and even a U.S. President. This book tells the story of four flawed, socially connected people who used newspaper society columns to craft highly curated images of themselves. But the newspapers of the time did not include the more salacious, messy, complicated and secretive details of their lives. This is also a social history of New Orleans during the Jazz Age, including descriptions of queer culture, the French Quarter, European travel, and life in the social circles of Kay Francis, Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, Waldo Peirce, Caresse and Harry Crosby, Gerald and Sara Murphy and many others. Full of humorous anecdotes, drama, romance and tragedy, this book is an insightful chronicle of a fascinating time in New Orleans' LGBTQ history.

In Tearing Down the Lost Cause: The Removal of New Orleans's Confederate Statues James Gill and Howard Hunter examine New Orleans’s complicated relationship with the history of the Confederacy pre– and post–Civil War. The authors open and close their manuscript with the dramatic removal of the city’s Confederate statues. On the eve of the Civil War, New Orleans was far more cosmopolitan than Southern, with its sizable population of immigrants, Northern-born businessmen, and white and Black Creoles. Ambivalent about secession and war, the city bore divided loyalties between the Confederacy and the Union. However, by 1880 New Orleans rivaled Richmond as a bastion of the Lost Cause. After Appomattox, a significant number of Confederate veterans moved into the city giving elites the backing to form a Confederate civic culture. While it’s fair to say that the three Confederate monuments and the white supremacist Liberty Monument all came out of this dangerous nostalgia, the authors argue that each monument embodies its own story and mirrors the city and the times. The Lee monument expressed the bereavement of veterans and a desire to reconcile with the North, though strictly on their own terms. The Davis monument articulated the will of the Ladies Confederate Memorial Association to solidify the Lost Cause and Southern patriotism. The Beauregard Monument honored a local hero, but also symbolized the waning of French New Orleans and rising Americanization. The Liberty Monument, throughout its history, represented white supremacy and the cruel hypocrisy of celebrating a past that never existed. While the book is a narrative of the rise and fall of the four monuments, it is also about a city engaging history. Gill and Hunter contextualize these statues rather than polarize, interviewing people who are on both sides including citizens, academics, public intellectuals, and former mayor Mitch Landrieu. Using the statues as a lens, the authors construct a compelling narrative that provides a larger cultural history of the city.