Photo by Lucius Fontenot
Highway 96 is a 19.32-mile stretch of road that runs east-west between Broussard and Catahoula. On the day our little exploratory team—photographer and writer—drove Highway 96, we started early in the morning in St. Martinville. We didn’t know each other well, but we knew our purpose: to take in what was around us. We were on assignment. I parked in front of the church in the middle of town.
Both of us scurried for the first few minutes, spotting landmarks and noting the sun and shadows. We walked purposefully from one site to another. As a photographer, and writer, we both operate in a world that knows a lot of rushing to finish the task at hand—so that’s what we were trying to do.
Funny thing is, you can’t hurry experience. After walking the diagram of sidewalks and reading all the etchings in the statues and monuments, I looked across the road and noticed a lit neon sign flashing “Hot Beignets.” Even as relative strangers, we recognized the next phase of our journey and crossed the road to Le Petit Paris Café to order the inevitable beignets. Outside of New Orleans, my beignet expectations are never high. But as we waited for the sugared pillows of warm dough, I could feel the purposeful rush easing.
The beignets were near perfection, and feeling a little better about the world around us, we headed back across the street to take another look at the St. Martin de Tours Catholic Church.
On a lark, I tried the front door—it was open. I must admit that when the door opened, I felt a little of what Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy must have felt when they realized there was a world beyond the closet. The sanctuary was quiet and cool, with light blue accents along the ceiling, statues, and stained glass windows. I learned that the unusual relief on the left front transept is a replica of the Grotto of Lourdes. Pierre Martinet, a freed slave from Saint Martinville, built the grotto. He never visited Lourdes but constructed the shrine after studying a holy card of the site. He used bousillage, mud from the Bayou Teche, moss, and plaster to build the tribute. Prayers and messages of thanks spanning the decades since its construction are posted. The statue of Mary is similar to the one in Lourdes as well.
When we entered the church, a woman quietly walked and prayed the Stations of the Cross as light streamed through the windows at just the right angle. The moment was such a gift.
Driving further down the highway, we arrived at The Ville Bakery, where another stop seemed in order. Inside the bakery, surveying the options, a local woman, who happened to be from France originally, said to me, “You can’t go wrong with the boudin kolache.” I stared at the delicacy and thought, Now, that’s a sentence that doesn’t need to be stated. We ordered kolaches as the French local who lives “just beyond the bakery” told us the reasons she decided to move, years ago, to St. Martinville.
We stopped by the Evangeline Oak, the giant live oak tree associated with Longfellow’s poem of lost love, and the Acadian Memorial, which happened to be full of French tourists, to eat our kolaches. I am a woman who loves to research and plan, but somewhere around bite three of the kolache, I reflected on the beauty of a morning spent accepting—even inviting—the unexpected. I had been running so fast all week that, even though I had blocked out the time on my calendar, I hadn’t taken a moment to plan or anticipate what this assignment would entail; this more laissez-faire approach proved to be a thing of beauty.
We drove on down Highway 96 and came to a small historical marker near a long line of trees. The marker denotes Oak and Pine Alley, a simple dirt road lined with trees surrounded by cane fields and leading to three small no-nonsense homes; but the stories the alleyway holds are something else entirely.
Oak and Pine Alley represents the stuff of dreams and legend—the epitome of the opulence St. Martin Parish once knew. Gerome Charles Durand decided to host the wedding-of-all-weddings when his two daughters decided to both marry on May 21, 1870. The legend of this double wedding is told throughout Acadiana.
Separating the truth from the fiction is difficult, but here are the basic details of the story: Durand was believed to be one of the wealthiest men in St. Martin Parish, which was full of wealthy French aristocrats who had supposedly left France during the French Revolution, giving St. Martinville the nickname “Le Petit Paris.” Durand, according to the tales, traveled in ornamental horse-drawn carriages. His home, at the end of the oak and pine alley, was filled with the finest of furnishings.
When his two daughters married on the same day, he set about hosting the most extravagant wedding he could imagine. Legend has it that he ordered one million (yes, one million) spiders to be shipped from China. He also sent couriers to California to retrieve gold and silver dust. A few days before the wedding, servants set the spiders loose in the trees to weave their magic webs; and on the morning of the big day, the servants used bellows to blow the gold and silver dust onto the webs. On carpets laid beneath the trees, cobwebs glittering with what must have looked like fairy dust, the girls took their vows.
Durand died a few months later and his house fell into disrepair, eventually washing away in the flood of 1927. All that’s left are the trees. On the morning I was there, I considered how much the land and fortunes of those nearby had changed through the years. I stood on the gravel road and peered at the trees; I even squinted my eyes, hoping to see a fleck of gold dust amongst the branches. I may have, but I can’t be certain.
We traveled on to Catahoula, where Highway 96 ends. If you drive to the terminus, I believe the law requires that you at least check to see if Red’s Levee Bar is open. Red Higginbotham, longtime bar owner, government official, and traiteur, passed away in 2013. His daughter now runs the bar. On the morning we stopped by, his grandson was cleaning up, getting ready for the weekend. (If you go inside and it looks familiar, perhaps you saw it in Robert Duvall’s movie The Apostle.)
At the levee, the highway ended—and we headed back to real life.
Details. Details. Details.
The road traveled in this article is a section of the Boom or Bust Highway, one of the seventeen official byways promoted by Louisiana’s office of tourism. louisianabyways.com
Le Petit Paris Café 116 South Main Street St. Martinville, La. lepetitpariscafe.net Saint Martin de Tours Catholic Church 133 South Main Street St. Martinville, La. saintmartindetours.org The Ville Bakery 207 East Bridge Street St. Martinville, La. (337) 342-2344 Evangeline Oak Park 122 Evangeline Street St. Martinville, La. (337) 394-2232 Acadian Memorial 121 South New Market Street St. Martinville, La. (337) 394-2258
Oak and Pine Alley:
Amidst the cane fields along Highway 96, a small historical marker denotes the site of Oak and Pine Alley where the trees still stand. The point is about half way between St. Martinville and Catahoula. Note: the end of the road is private property.
