John Allen Cassady, son of Neal and Carolyn, remembers his experiences of the famed New Orleans festival: the parades, the food and even a little drink and, of course, the music…
Yes, it's Fat Tuesday once again. I've gone to four over the years, so I think I'll stay home this year. I would virtually live on Bourbon Street for three weeks in February, and I've been told that I had a good time! (ha ha)…
I would bring an 8mm movie camera, and tie it over my shoulder with a rope, so I wouldn't lose it in the crowds. This was before affordable video cameras, so there's no sound, but I got some hilarious footage. I mean, the costumes alone! Not to mention the characters wearing them. Priceless.
Pictured above: Mardi Grass in the Big Easy, 2023
Some filmmakers in Stockholm digitized all the films and sent me a DVD of them. Now I can't find it, of course, after several moves, but it would make a great PBS special, JC Does the Big Easy. Or something like that.
I remember there was a soup kitchen on Canal Street that would serve free food out of giant pots. Black-eyed peas and rice. And cornbread, of course. It was a life saver. I would go there after the cops would clean out the French Quarter at Midnight sharp every night.
The party would go on for three weeks before the big night, getting bigger and bigger every day. Lots of parades during the day, and major revelry at night. I parked my 1955 Chevy panel truck in the farmers’ market, a block from Washington Square, and slept on a mattress in the back. I couldn't believe that I found an empty parking spot there. Never got a ticket.
Pictured above: New Orleans’ native son ‘Night Tripper’ Dr John
The music was fantastic, of course. Al Hirt still played in his club every night. There were high school bands on parade during the day, and sax players on every corner at night. I would throw change into their hats. One night I snuck into a Dr John concert. Better known as the ‘Night Tripper’, ‘Satchel of Gris-Gris in my hand’. He was big in New Orleans of course, their native son!
On later visits I would stay with friends I had met the year before. One group was four or five couples living in a giant three-story mansion across Lake Pontchartrain that was built before the Civil War. They gave me my own room! More black-eyed peas, rice and cornbread, but I was grateful. I think there was whiskey involved in the evenings (Ya think? Ha ha).
So that's my story, morning glory, and may the ‘Saints Go Marching In’!
John Allen Cassady
I love your stories, man! Keep on writing😊