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Far-flung readers thank Blake Pontchartrain for extending a little bit of home to them.
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Dear Readers,
In a break from tradition, I am sharing some
thoughts from folks who "know what it means to miss New Orleans." They have
wonderful memories and are grateful to have lived here, at least for a little
while. Happy Thanksgiving to you all.
Blake
Hey Blake,
As a native New Orleanian living in exile in
Asbury Park, N.J., it's refreshing to be able to read your articles online.
I was raised at 2318 Gravier St. between S. Tonti and S. Miro streets. As a
kid and tomboy, I have jumped into the fountain at Falstaff Brewery many times.
I attended St. Katherine School at 1509 Tulane Ave. from 1949-1958 and Xavier
Prep at 5116 Magazine St. from 1958-1962.
On one of my trips home in 1998, I came as
the Monmouth County President of the American Legion Auxiliary. It was great
coming home and representing my county. I have lived here in New Jersey since
1970.
I was employed at the 8th Naval district in
Algiers, where I met my husband, who is from Staten Island, N.Y. We were married
33 years on Nov. 4. I love living here, but I lament that I can't be in New
Orleans. After living many years in this climate, I can't take the heat of New
Orleans anymore. It's too darn hot for me.
I miss my family, friends and the way of life
in New Orleans and am always homesick for what I consider the familiar. I'm
always sending packages to my sister Kathleen, who has a booth in Decatur Collectibles.
I find the most unusual things to sell for her. My mother, who passed away in
1999, owned Grammy's Place across the street from there.
I always fly my Mardi Gras flag from Jan.
6 until Mardi Gras, I tell people Mardi Gras is a season, not one day and have
to tell how it started, how we Catholics celebrate it to prepare for Lent, etc.
You, Blake, have kept me in the loop for years and didn't know it, so now I
write to tell you how grateful I am. God bless and keep you always.
Sharon Meyers-Boone
Hey Blake,
My dad grew up on Canal Street. He attended
Holy Cross School until he graduated in 1957 and joined the Navy. His mother,
Nettie Schiro, worked as a buyer for the Maison Blanche department store. His
dad Anthony Fallo ran the family flower/gift shop that was the front part of
their home, until he passed when my dad was about 8 years old.
Across the street on the left side of their
home was a grocery store on the corner, which is now a coffee shop. I remember
as a little girl, watching out the upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' home,
the train that traveled on the overpass behind the grocery store. I was fascinated
by it.
I remember going to see "Mr. Bingle" over
the Christmas holidays at Maison Blanche. I remember the infamous Pontchartrain
Beach, and how many times did I ride the "Zephyr"? The New Orleans Zoo was always
my favorite, along with Monkey Hill. We live in Denham Springs now, but still
visit New Orleans as we have relatives there.
My husband and I enjoy the Jazz Festival,
which in fact was our very first date in 1990. Oh, and Bourbon Street ... what
can I say? Some people say it is dangerous, but we do take the kids to get beignets
and cafe au lait and a lot of "culture." And what about those Saints? I think
it is going to be a good year.
My father and I sometimes talk about why he
left New Orleans. I was only 4. But we went back so often, I felt as if I grew
up there, too. He just sighs and says, "I don't know, I probably shouldn't have."
Thanks,
Melanie Fallo-Smith
