Showing posts with label madisonville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label madisonville. Show all posts

28.5.18

Photographs: Brothers Play Near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Louisiana (c. 1998)

A photograph of me with my pet dog Maggie
I post pictures of my brothers and I playing near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Lousiana (circa 1998).

Family Photographs: Brothers in Madisonville, Louisiana 
My brothers and I play near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Lousiana (circa 1998). That’s our dog, Maggie, in the left foreground — she was a Springer Spaniel mix that went everywhere we went. I miss her still

I Took These Pictures Using Black and White Film

In these photographs, I am either a Junior or a Senior in high school. I had a camera that I usually carried around with me, and I thought of myself as sophisticated that I used black and white film. It is funny how the way we take photographs has changed so considerably since the advent of digital cameras. I take most of my shots on an iPhone today. However, I still have my Canon SureShot. It is packed away and in storage — but I still own it. 

Bygone Days — Look at Us Now!

Looking at these family photographs, it makes me think of how much time my brothers and I spent together, even though we were vastly different. Brad, my older brother, still looks playful and youthful, although he is probably college-aged in this photograph. Brad has had several odd jobs over the years; he still lives in Madisonville — in a house he bought for himself (not too far from where these photographs were taken). Nicholas, the baby, would later grow up to become a soldier in the United States Army and serve two tours in Iraq. He is now a veteran, is married to a woman named Brooke, and has two kids! I turned out to be gay. Was a monk for a spell. Now I am a school teacher, and I live in work in New York City. I go home to visit about once a year.

28.12.17

That Day I Spoke to Margaux Hemingway When I Was Twelve Years Old

A Woman's Secret (1992)
It was Summer. I think. Somewhere around 1992 - I'm not sure. Mom and Dad were still together - and we were driving through Madisonville, Louisiana. The town hugs the Tchefuncte River - dotted with wood-paneled houses, an abandoned lighthouse, a swing bridge, a dozen churches, a feed store, seafood restaurants galore, and a Piggly Wiggly - not to mention a scenic riverfront landscape and an old Southern feel. A whitewashed stately two-story building houses the public library. And Higgins boats - the amphibious assault vehicles used to storm the beaches of Normandy - were assembled not too far from town. 


Swing Bridge in Madisonville © 2016 Kim Chatelain
We were driving through that day - like we usually did when I was growing up. Dad liked to take long road trips through the backwoods. So it was nothing unusual. We stopped at the Tchefuncte Feed & Seed on Louisiana Highway 21 (locally called Covington Street). The road is a nondescript stretch of highway - however, it is an unusual bend of the road, turning left and right as it stretches along - basically connecting the town of Mandeville (where I lived at the time) to the town of Covington. So it gets a fair amount of traffic.
Holy Shit! That's Madisonville, Louisiana on the silver screen!
I don't remember who noticed it was a film shoot. It may have been Dad. But we parked our car across the street in the Hibernia National Bank parking lot. We stepped outside the car and there was Margaux Hemingway stepping out of a Mercedes Benz right before our eyes! "Shhhh!" my dad said. "They're filming a movie." We stood there for about an hour watching what I soon learned was the incredibly boring process of filming a movie. In that time, waiting, we parsed that it was a "European director" filming a movie in the United States and the actress was Margaux Hemingway! I never felt so proud to be a Louisiana boy witnessing movie-making in action! Damn. 
I'm almost certain that's a real Madisonville cop!
Being all of twelve and considering myself an astute cinephile, I blurted out to Dad, "Hey, Dad. That's Margaux Hemingway! She starred in the Superman movie!" Not really knowing what the hell I was talking about I somehow managed to knock on the camper trailer where supposedly Margaux was staying. Her handler answered and told us to leave her alone. But I persisted. Finally, Margaux Hemingway stepped out and greeted us with a plastic grin. The girl was none too pleased that a couple of local oglers wanted to talk to her. "Hey!" I gushed. "You're Margaux Hemingway! I loved you in the Superman movie!"

29.8.17

Photograph Taken a Few Days After Hurricane Katrina at Mom's House in Madisonville, Louisiana

Family Photo from Madisonville, Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina
Maggie and Greig, Madisonville, Louisiana circa August 2005
On August 29th, twelve years have passed since Hurricane Katrina stormed the Gulf Coast in 2005. Here is a blog post to commemorate that event.
You can make out the outline of Mom's house in the upper left-hand corner of this photograph. A fallen power line is draped over a felled tree. You can see that the massive oak still stands. Everything else is scattered, twisted, and torn. On August 29th, twelve years have passed since Hurricane Katrina stormed the Gulf Coast. Katrina was a monster wind storm - and this photograph attests to that fact.


31.12.11

Christmas Letter from New Orleans

For Christmas season 2011, I went back home to New Orleans to visit my family and friends. Here is what I did and saw. Read it!
An Ignatius Reilly Mardi Gras float
rolls through town / 
Image credit: Flickr



“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”  
― Ignatius J. Reilly 
Anthony sits at a wooden table at the Balcony Bar, a place that looks regal during the daytime but becomes the center of considerable brouhaha at night. Having had a few cocktails, we sit together eating bar food. Anthony feeds me a French Fry. Carrying a tray with hamburgers, Andrew almost runs into a cadre of revelers who are talking so loudly the entire building seems to close in on itself with the noise. We sit and attempt conversation. This is our city every night. It has been a year and a half since leaving New Orleans. Having returned home for eight days I leave again with renewed something for the Crescent City. Martin says Nola (as locals call it) is the best city. He's right.