A large photograph album bound in red leather documents a 1906 “quarantine tour” of Central America sponsored by the United Fruit Company during the final outbreak of yellow fever in New Orleans. The book is a fascinating example of the tremendous influence of the banana-import business in early 20th-century New Orleans and the efforts by one company to skirt quarantine regulations.
Storyville's blue books marketed a fantasy of the red-light district to a white male audience, offering a fascinating, yet limited, window into a demimonde during the rise of consumerism.
Though a local school is named for him, Isidore Newman's cultural contributions to New Orleans are much further reaching.
In 1935, fried chicken history was made—not with a clever tweet or a sandwich war, but with one man, one bird, and a timer. That year, James “Buck” Fulford set a record when he killed, plucked, cooked, and ate a chicken all in one minute and 50 seconds.
Calvin Dayes made shoes fit for a king, but more importantly, he made shoes fit for those who most needed them. Regardless of the reason or the occasion for his specialty shoes, each finished piece featured a truly unique label: “By the JiveAss Shoemaker.”
The puckered fabric has been a staple of summer fashion for generations, but just how did the iconic material come to be?
While perusing the words of 19th-century visitors to New Orleans, it's striking how many of their concerns are still relevant today—and some could fit right into an online comment thread or bitter social media post.
Generations of New Orleans children still remember how the holidays were ushered in with a familiar tune: “Jingle, Jangle, Jingle / Here Comes Mr. Bingle / With Another Message From Kris Kringle.”
By the time she came to New Orleans in 1799, Suzanne Douvillier was a famous dancer on both sides of the Atlantic, but the sensational story of how she got here goes far beyond the stage.
