Grand Isle Farewell

By Lana Laws Downing

The year is 1937. Young Alphonse Caillet leaves his safe home with his grandmother on the remote Louisiana coastal island of Grand Isle to go to live in New Orleans with his patrons, the wealthy LaStrappe family. The LaStrappes are fond of Alphonse, having spent summers with him on Grand Isle. They make it possible for him to attend the renowned Jesuit High School in New Orleans. His Granmere has a difficult time allowing him to go to live with the LaStrappes in the big city of New Orleans, but ultimately she does what she knows is best for her grandson. She accompanies him to New Orleans and to the Jesuit school. This is a time when Germany is making military moves and Walt Disney is making movie magic. All is well in Louisiana. Alphonse makes new friends and finds his place at the venerable Jesuit school, where he has unexpected adventures and finds his strengths and talents. He gets into a bit of trouble, but ultimately he grows in ways he never expected.

Books by Lana Laws Downing

Grand Isle Farewell 2020
T-Garçon of Grand Isle 2018
Jon Teel 2018
Heaven and High Water 2011

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716074455

Book preview

2011

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my dear friend Corrie Uze, who didn’t give me peace until I finished it. She is my biggest fan. It is also dedicated to Michael Prados of Jesuit, who gave me a fine tour of the venerable school and a peek into its archives. He has been constant in replying to my many questions. His love for Jesuit, his knowledge of its history, and his enthusiasm for the school were infectious. Thanks to both of you.

Thanks

Thanks to three people who read this work and offered invaluable suggestions: Suzanne Wiltz, Dr. Lou McCormick and Michael Prados. A big thank you to Ronald J. Drez, author of Gallant Fighting Sons, history of Jesuit High School. It is a fine book and was an invaluable resource.

Alarm Clock

Leaving Paradise

Granmere sat at her bare cypress wood table intently reading a slim booklet printed in black and white: Jesuit High School, 1937-38.  She had reached a section entitled, Its Purpose.

A pure heart and a trained mind, Granmere read aloud. I certainly approve of that idea. If anyone can accomplish those goals, it will be the Jesuits.

Granmere was trying very hard to remind herself that she was letting Alphonse go to the Jesuit school for his benefit. He was a fine, intelligent boy who would go far in the world if she could be strong enough to let him leave his comfortable cocoon on Grand Isle. Granmere knew in her heart that this was it. The time had come. Alphonse should leave the isolated island that was the only home he knew.

Tomorrow Granmere and her grandson Alphonse planned to make the trip to Jesuit High School in New Orleans. She knew she must check it out for herself before leaving her precious grandson in the hands of Clementine LaStrappe and the Jesuits. She had known and trusted Clementine for years, but she knew the Jesuits by reputation only.  She approved of what she had read so far in the thin, slick paper handbook Clementine had sent.

Granmere and Alphonse had lengthy conversations about the benefits of getting a high school education in New Orleans. Although Granmere’s words were ostensibly intended to convince her grandson that this decision to go away for high school was the correct one, Alphonse perceived that she was trying to convince herself.

The two of them had cautioned their friend John Ludwig not to mention to anyone their plans regarding New Orleans and Jesuit High School. If their secret had gotten out, Alphonse’s last months in seventh grade at Grand Isle School would have been miserable. No one would have understood or forgiven him.

Alphonse knew there was no future for him on this island that he had grown to love. He wasn’t cut out to be a shrimper or a fisherman, a carpenter, a vegetable farmer or a schoolteacher. Those were the only options Alphonse could envision for himself on Grand Isle. He had no doubts in the end that going away to study was the right thing for him to do, but he wondered about how it would all unfold.

Granmere and Alphonse had been carefully sorting through Alphonse’s meager assortment of clothes and books, deciding what he should take. When they crossed the bay to New Orleans tomorrow, Alphonse must be prepared to stay. Using her old galvanized number three washtub and a heavy sadiron that she heated on her wood burning stove, Granmere had scrubbed and starched her grandson’s clothing. She had each garment folded carefully and placed in a small trunk contributed to the move by John Ludwig, who was not only a good friend but also Alphonse’s mentor. John Ludwig owned the island’s main store and operated the town post office; he was the unofficial mayor of Grand Isle. He joined Granmere in having mixed feelings about allowing Alphonse to go away to school, especially to the big city of New Orleans. He knew a Jesuit education would open many doors for the young man he had grown to love as a grandson, but he would miss him more than he cared to admit.

Although a trip by bus was possible, Granmere had decided that the most practical and economical way to get to New Orleans would be on the boat that crossed over Barataria Bay early each morning going to the French Market. The captain was willing to take them at no cost. When they reached the New Orleans riverfront at the French Market, they could walk over to Canal Street to find the streetcar to ride to the LaStrappe home on St. Charles Avenue. Granmere had managed to avoid Clementine’s many invitations to visit. Finally, she would see the residence of the much esteemed LaStrappe family.

Eveready Flashlight

They were awake very early. Granmere’s Big Ben alarm clock, wound when they went to bed, was set for three a.m., but Granmere was wide awake long before the clock began its noisy clamor. Soon, they were ready to walk out into the predawn darkness. Alphonse looked around at his simple cypress cabin home, taking in every detail before Granmere turned the wick down in the kerosene lamp, extinguishing it. She carried a heavy silver-colored Eveready flashlight, on loan from John Ludwig, to illuminate the path down to Bayou Rigaud, where they found the boat captain cranking up his inboard gasoline boat engine.

The boat ride in the early August air was an adventure for Alphonse. With a fog that opened and closed like an organza curtain as the boat chugged along, a big headlamp lighting the way, there was an ethereal quality about the foggy dawn on the dark water.

Soon the sun rose and the fog lifted. The chug-chug of the gasoline engine and a gentle breeze were soothing to Granmere’s troubled spirit. As they headed north through Barataria Bay, Alphonse turned to look back at the diminishing view of his island home, a tiny bump against the horizon, backlit by the colorful breaking dawn sky. He held back tears, wondering how he could make it in a big city without Granmere. Clementine LaStrappe was a unique and wonderful person who would treat him well, Alphonse was certain. But this whole adventure was fraught with possibilities for disaster. What if the Jesuits didn’t like him? What if the other students hated him and turned against him? What if the LaStrappe home was too small for him to stay? What if….

Alphonse stopped himself. What if he were worrying for nothing? He decided to put it all out of his mind and savor the moment. They traversed the bay, entered Bayou Cutler and then Bayou Barataria. They passed by Lafitte, Crown Point, Jean Lafitte and Barataria, where fishermen, shrimpers and oystermen were heading out for their day on the water.

The boat turned to enter that newly completed engineering marvel, the Harvey Canal. Soon they were traveling briefly on the monstrous Mississippi River. Granmere made the sign of the cross at this point, as though she felt the need for God’s protection to travel the gigantic waterway. Water that began its journey in Minnesota came flowing past New Orleans on its way to the Gulf of Mexico. Alphonse wondered how many thousands of gallons flowed by each minute. It was this water that had deposited layer upon layer of rich soil that formed Louisiana’s delta. It was also this water that caused the devastating flood of 1927, still fresh in the minds of Louisiana’s citizens.

Granmere watched Alphonse during the journey across the Mississippi. His face was expressive, revealing conflicting emotions: eagerness and fear. Soon, the boat was docking.

Let the adventure begin, Alphonse whispered aloud.

The boat trip with the welcome breeze might have been pleasant, but the walk from the dock on the Mississippi to Canal Street was long and hot. Granmere and Alphonse were accustomed to hard work, heat and humidity, but not while wearing their good clothing. Alphonse carried his small trunk, heavy with books. The two were soon damp, perspiration beading on their foreheads. They waited in the shimmering heat at the streetcar stop until the big olive-green streetcar came clanging along the track. The streetcar ride was another first for Alphonse. They boarded, asking the driver to let them off near the LaStrappe home. Not surprisingly, the driver nodded, acknowledging that he knew the place.

Granmere found the rhythmic rocking of the streetcar along the track very soothing. She allowed the tension to leave her taut shoulders, leaning back in the polished wooden seat to take in the magnificent homes and ancient oaks along St. Charles Avenue. A new world was opening up for Alphonse, but Granmere didn’t want the wealth and grandeur to go to the boy’s head, nor did she want it to make him feel inferior. It was a conundrum; much food for thought and for prayer. After a bit, the driver pointed to a palatial red brick home set back from the street on well-manicured, landscaped grounds. Not wanting to make her grandson apprehensive, Granmere made no comment about the obvious opulence prominently displayed on the wealthiest street in New Orleans.

Well, Alphonse, I believe they will have room for you, she observed ironically as they made their way up the long driveway from the street. The red brick driveway took them through live oaks, magnolias, azaleas and camelias, together with an assortment of palms and shrubbery, creating a lush setting for the imposing antebellum home.

Alphonse nodded, but said nothing. If he was feeling apprehensive, he didn’t let on.

Emeline LaStrappe answered the door before the bell stopped chiming. She had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of her young hero, Alphonse Caillet. Emeline had worshipped Alphonse since the first time she laid eyes on him, when her father’s boat docked at Grand Isle to deposit the