The Canadas
|
|
Spring 2003
Features Updated June 17, 2003 |
Out and About
Springtime means work, as well, of course, especially for an English professor. Indeed, I spent much of April reading hundreds of essays from the students in my composition, literature, and linguistics classes; however, I also had the pleasure of working with a number of bright, hard-working, and creative students. An additional reward came in May—that is, the word that I had been promoted to the rank of associate professor. There was work to be done at home, as well—at both of our homes, in fact. In the house where we live, we tore up the tile in the kitchen and refinished the natural wood floor underneath. The historic home that we recently bought needs a lot more work, but we are still waiting for approval from a state agency and are not allowed to begin that work on the house itself. We did, however, begin whipping two of the five acres into shape and starting cleaning out the barn. |
April 3-5, 2003: We took our first family trip in a
few months, heading over to Edenton, North Carolina, for the first Harriet
Jacobs Symposium. In preparation,
I re-read Jacobs’s slave narrative Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl,
published in 1861. Lisa and
I enjoyed seeing the town of Edenton, where Jacobs worked as a slave and
eventually escaped, spending seven years in a garret in her grandmother’s
house. Perhaps even more than
usual, experiencing the location of the literature firsthand was
enlightening. In this case, I was
particularly surprised by how close the key buildings of the narrative
were. Although the home of “Dr.
Flint,” from whom Jacobs escaped, and the house where she hid are no longer
standing, they have been marked, and we could see that they were only a block
or two apart. While we were there,
the four of us had a picnic at a nice waterfront park, where Essie and Will could
play at a playground. On the way
back home, we stopped at Hope Plantation and toured the beautiful home there.
April
12, 2003: Yes, as a matter of fact, we do have something of a three-ring
circus in the Canada family. As
lively as it was, however, it just didn’t seem complete. Sure, we had acrobats and clowns, but
no tigers or elephants. So when we
heard that the traveling Cole Brothers
circus was coming to our area, we decided to go out and do some
shopping. The two main attractions
of our current troupe, Essie and Will, joined me for the excursion in
Fayetteville. There we found not
only tigers and elephants, but trapeze artists, a tightrope walker, even a
woman who was shot out of a cannon.
It was a wild show, though relatively calm compared with our own
production. In fact, Essie managed
to tame one of the Cole Brothers’ elephants, taking it for a spin around the
ring. Will would have liked to
have a crack at one of the tigers, but none of them would get near him.
May 2, 2003: Later in the spring, I took Essie to
Charlotte to see Dragon Tales Live, a show featuring the characters from
the PBS animated show Dragon Tales. Essie has loved the theatre since she was 2 or 3 years old,
and Dragon Tales is her favorite television show, so it was a great
fit. She danced to the music,
hissed on cue when Cyrus the Serpent appeared, and even brought home a little
doll of Cassie, her favorite character.
May
17-23, 2003: Essie is sound asleep in the seat across the table from
me. In the booth behind her, three
students play cards. After
fighting sleep virtually the entire day, Will has finally succumbed to a nap in
the sleeper with his mother. Back
in coach, some students, and others doze.
The train has just stopped in Clemson, South Carolina, and is now making
quick progress toward Charlotte, North Carolina, our destination, where we
should arrive between 1 and 2 a.m.
“A New Orleans Feast” is coming to a close.
The trip, which began a week ago, was nearly a year in the making. It is the fourth and most ambitious Junior Enrichment experience that Lisa and I have planned for North Carolina Teaching Fellows, college students who receive full scholarships in exchange for an agreement to teach in the state’s public schools. The first, “Philadelphia in the Life of America,” was so successful that we began planning our encore before it was even over. After two more trips, one to Boston and another to Williamsburg, we set our sights on a city some 700 miles from our own, a city only one of us had visited and then only as a child, a city notorious for crime and celebrated for vice.
None of those minor details kept us from planning the trip—or students from registering. Nineteen signed up and nearly all joined Lisa, Essie, Will, and me for an orientation in Charlotte on May 17. To our delight, parents showed up in droves, as well: some 40 people packed the little meeting room we reserved at a Sleep Inn, and most joined us for a light dinner of sandwiches, chips, and desserts before the students and I gathered for an ice-breaker introducing students to each other and all to New Orleans. Nor was anyone deterred by our 3:30 a.m. departure time or by the 15-hour train trip. Most seem to have simply stayed awake after the orientation and then taken advantage of the sleepers we had reserved on the train to get their rest. Even the ominous number of the room Lisa and I were assigned at our hotel—911—seems to have had little affect on these imperturbable students, although it did spook their leaders a bit. Rather than wasting thoughts on omens, voodoo, or the above-ground cemeteries we had passed on the way into town, these students focused their attention on more important things, specifically the grand foyer of our hotel, the Homewood Suites, and its luxurious rooms.
Our
first full day in New Orleans began splendidly. After a full breakfast at the hotel, we piled into two vans
and toured the city with two expert guides, who took us down to the riverfront,
through the French Quarter, out to City Park, and past the grand houses on St.
Charles Street in the Garden District.
Along the way, we learned about the city’s long and interesting history,
saw St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square, and took a walk through one of the
city’s many above-ground cemeteries.
After lunch at Riverwalk Mall, we visited the Aquarium of the Americas,
where we petted starfish and sharks, walked through an artificial Amazonian
rainforest, and saw a variety of exotic fish, including jellyfish and
seahorses. For dinner, we took the
St. Charles streetcar uptown to Jacque-mo’s, where the redfish and mahi-mahi
got rave reviews.
The next morning, most of the students joined Lisa, Essie, Will, and me for a walk through the Garden District, famous for not only lush gardens, but also luxurious homes, including the residence of novelist Anne Rice. Our lunch at Sugar Magnolia’s in this area of the city featured perhaps my favorite dish of the entire trip: a huge and delicious pork sandwich. Our next stop was the New Orleans Museum of Art, where we caught a special exhibit celebrating the anniversary of the Louisiana Purchase. I approached this part of our trip with some apprehension because I had brought along Essie, whose experience with museums has not been entirely positive. The fault, however, lay not with her personality, but with my own ambitions. Let’s face it: a Rodin exhibit just isn’t the ideal place for a 2-year-old. Now Essie is 5, and I wasn’t worried that she would deface a priceless work of art, but rather that she would simply get bored. I was in for a surprise. This particular exhibit came with a little carry-along gadget that would play brief recordings of experts discussing the various works. Now, to my knowledge, Essie has never expressed a deep and abiding interest in the Louisiana Purchase or even land acquisition in general, but give her a talking gadget with buttons to push, and you have yourself a little amateur historian with boundless enthusiasm for Jefferson’s legacy. An hour or so later, Essie had accomplished a feat achieved by few sign-readers and note-takers: she had managed to outlast me in a museum. If I had not coaxed her out of there and taken her to a nearby playground, she might still be poring over maps and documents.
One of the highlights of the trip for the students came that evening when we took in a set of Dixieland jazz music at the French Quarter’s famous Preservation Hall. We had to wait in line for about 30 minutes and then spend another 30 minutes waiting inside the hall for the concert to begin, but I didn’t hear any complaints. Indeed, many of the students passed the time standing in line by listening to a street musician perform for them. Inside the hall, a worn wooden structure with benches and cushions on the floor and rough paintings of musicians on the walls, seven musicians—a trumpeter, trombone player, saxophonist, pianist, tuba player, drummer, and banjo player—put on a lively 30-minute show.
The next morning, we returned to the French Quarter for a visit to Jackson Square, a peek at the St. Louis Cathedral, and coffee and beignets at Café du Monde. Just walking down Royal Street in the Quarter is a treat. The pastel buildings and ornate cast-iron and wrought-iron grillwork around the balconies give the area charming and exotic feel, and the rich culture of the Quarter—home not only to Dixieland jazz, but also to writers William Faulkner and Tennessee Williams—especially appealed to me. Reality stayed close at our heels, however, and kept us from being totally transported. For starters, the famous heat and humidity of New Orleans, which we had briefly experienced after climbing off the train on Sunday night, returned for a matinee performance. As if that wasn’t enough, Will insisted on walking instead of riding in his stroller, throwing a tantrum worthy of Stanley Kuwolski when I merely tried to carry him across a street. The final insult of the morning came at Café du Monde, where we felt more like items on an assembly line than honored guests. For the afternoon, I turned the students loose to explore the Quarter on their own. Some, I heard later, visited a tarot card reader. Judging from the afternoon that Lisa and I had, we should have consulted a soothsayer ourselves. If we had, we would have learned that the French Quarter may be hopping 24 hours a day, but the finer restaurants may close for special events or simply shut down in the midafternoon. Thus, instead of savoring delicacies at Galatoire’s or Arnaud’s, we would up choking down some overrated and overpriced po’boys at Johnnie’s near the river. This po’boy managed to get a table at Court of Two Sisters, a well-known restaurant, for dinner, but the Cornish game hen he ordered turned out to be dry and short on flavor. At least his po’wife enjoyed her filet mignon.
The best day for me, by far, was the last, as I suppose it should be. I started the day by indulging in one of my favorite hobbies while traveling, a form of sightseeing exercise I call a “moving experience.” Past moving experiences including a hike through the Cumberland Gap and a “Rocky” jog through Philadelphia. On this morning, I went for a run through the French Quarter, taking in Jackson Square, St. Louis Cathedral, the French Market alongside the Mississippi River, and the beautiful buildings along Royal Street. After breakfast, I joined Lisa, Essie, Will, and the students for a tour of a plantation outside New Orleans. The house was mildly interesting, but my favorite part of the visit was seeing some gigantic live Louisiana oaks. Called “live” because they remain green all year—new leaves constantly replace the ones that fall—these gigantic trees have limbs that stretch far from their trunks and dip down close to the ground. I especially enjoyed seeing one because Walt Whitman, who worked briefly for the New Orleans Picayune newspaper, wrote a poem called “I Saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing.” After our visit to the plantation, we call packed into the vans and returned to the French Quarter. Since the early end of our morning tour had left us with a couple of hours before our lunch reservation, Lisa and I turned the students loose, Lisa went shopping, and I took Es and Will on yet another walk around the Quarter. I don’t know about the students, but Essie, Will, and I spent this found time wisely and had a blast. For starters, I tracked down Tennessee Williams’s residence on St. Peter Street. While I was taking pictures, a street entertainer stopped and made some balloon animals for Es and Will. We then ducked into a shop and bought postcards and Mardi Gras masks. After touring a bit more, we stopped at an outdoor café on Pirates Alley next to St. Louis Cathedral. The next half-hour must have been Essie’s favorite time of the entire trip. All we did was sit and listen to three street musicians play Dixieland Jazz, but there’s something about sitting up close to musicians in the great outdoors that just transports Essie. I recall a similar experience last summer, when she whiled away the time at Lisa’s family reunion by planting herself in a lawn chair a few feet away from an accordion player and his sidekicks. Later, she told me she wished we could take that accordion player home with us. She gladly would have invited this Dixieland trumpeter and his two sidekicks, a tuba player and a guitarist, to come with us back to North Carolina, as well, I’m sure. She sat there listening happily and accompanied them on a makeshift instrument she had constructed by stretching her Mardi Gras necklace between her neck and hand. As she strummed, she insisted that I do the same. Will, meanwhile, was enjoying himself, too. After this little surprise adventure, there was more music at the Cajun Cabin; after lunch, we got a lesson in Cajun dancing, thanks to arrangements Lisa had made in advance. Lisa and I were especially proud of one of our students, Thomas Cooper, who fearlessly stepped up for the first lesson and did quite well. Lisa and I took a crack at it, too, but it took some coaxing to get other students into the action. Eventually, a few did, and Thomas and Marva Pittman even attempted the tricky “window” step.
The afternoon brought more fun for Lisa and me. After turning the students loose, we headed down to the IMAX Theatre near the Aquarium of the Americas and took in a fabulous documentary on Lewis and Clark. In fact, the show inspired our next Junior Enrichment experience: “Lewis, Clark, and Us,” a trip following the route that Lewis and Clark took on their incredible journey across the West between 1804 and 1806. Finally, the students, Essie, and Will wound up the day and the entire New Orleans experience with a riverboat dinner cruise on the Mississippi River. Lisa generously volunteered to stay in the hotel with Will, who does not take well to restrictions on his movement, even when those restrictions are designed to keep him on a boat and out of the Mississippi River. I was sorry that Lisa couldn’t join us because the cruise was delightful. The weather was glorious—clear with a light breeze and temperatures around 75—and we could just sit, eat, and enjoy the scenery, as well as live music provided by the Dukes of Dixieland. Essie, of course, took in the music and also enjoyed gazing down from the upper deck down at the giant paddle wheel. I enjoyed the views of New Orleans, particularly the lights of Riverwalk in the dusk. I heard one of the students remark that the cruise was a good way to wind up our trip. I agree.
Canadas’ Most Wanted |
|
Spring 2003
Name: Esprit Canada
Name: Will Canada
Criminal History: 1998 | 1999 | 2000 | 2001 | Winter 2002
| Summer 2002 |
Bean takes the lead in pair’s escapades
Police now believe that the Bean is every inch the outlaw that his sister is, as the photograph to the right reveals. In addition to laundering money, it appears Will has tried to launder himself, perhaps hoping to regain the squeaky-clean image he once enjoyed. According to reports from a number of witnesses, he also has been involved in vandalism, petty theft, and assault and battery. For reasons not entirely understood, nearly all of his crimes have centered on the same household in Laurinburg, North Carolina, where an exhausted and exasperated couple has spent untold hours and dollars trying to track down missing items and repairing items such as a shattered household lamp and a windshield wiper control in their car. Although the pair has been spotted in spots as diverse as Edenton, North Carolina, and New Orleans, Louisiana, the photograph of the Bean at the left suggests that they may have gone into hiding close to the scene of the crime. Authorities have fanned out across the premises, where they are checking closets, cabinets, and sinks. |
A Word from Essie and Will |
Essie
|
Will
|
|
On an optional part of the day: “Can we skip my bedtime?” On which shoes she wore yesterday: “I just wore plain old feet.” On a favorite pastime: “Daddy, when we get home, I want
to do a little research.” |
On anything asked of him: “No way!” |