Tag Archives: New Orleans

New Orleans King Cake

Main Piece:

EG, a resident of New Orleans, if very fond of the Mardi Gras season and the treats that come during it. One of these is King Cake. King Cakes originate in France as a cake to eat during Carnival season. It is a sweetcake covered in sugar and icing. A tradition for carnival season. They begin selling them on Twelfth Night, January 6th, and stop on Mardi Gras day. Some stores sell them any time of the year but not as a true “king cake”. A Baby is inside of the king cake. In many traditions if you get the baby you must buy the next king cake. In school every Friday one person would bring a king cake and the next week another person would have to get the king cake. 


EG is a college aged resident of New Orleans. She was born there and has lived there her entire life. This was collected in a conversation at my home. She has been to Mardi Gras every year since her birth and considers it to be a central part of her life.


I enjoy the history and idea of king cake not just as a New Orleanian who likes the food, but as a tradition. The whole idea to me is that we eat this super unhealthy food so much during this carnival season as last hurrah before Lent begins right after Fat Tuesday. The baby being inside of the cake as a reward is very interesting. I like the tradition of having the recipient of the baby bring the king cake the next week. The wide variety of them in New Orleans also would mean that different people would bring in different king cakes which would give everyone in her class a different experience each time they eat it.

Mardi Gras Ladders

Main Piece:

Mardi Gras ladders are used during Mardi Gras each year. They are used to put children higher up in the air to see the parade and to keep them safe from going in the street. Usually decorated in purple, green, and gold with a family’s name. They are on a ladder so that kids can see a float. Wheels are on the sides to help them roll easier from the car to parade route. On top of the ladders are seats which children sit in and they usually have a bar on the front to keep the kids from falling. Cup holders are put on the side for a parents’s drinks. They are put 6 feet away from the curb on the sidewalk or neutral ground, all painted differently. Families tend to put their ladders in certain spots next to each other forming a long row of ladders.


SG is my mother and has been to Mardi Gras with kids since I was born. She is from New Orleans and attends every year. This was taken during a conversation with her in our backyard while reminiscing Mardi Gras. She still brings ladders out each year for her younger children.


I like this piece of folklore a lot as it brings me back to when I was much younger attending Mardi Gras. When I only went with my parents and not friends, my mom would put me in a ladder with my twin sister as we shouted at the float riders to throw us beads and other items. The uniqueness of these ladders is very important to me as I had the opportunity to decorate the newest ladder that we use for my little brothers. We painted it purple, green, and gold, while also putting our hand prints on it. This is something I had grown up with and realized how specific a ladder with a seat on it like this is to New Orleans and that you rarely see it elsewhere.

The Ursuline Casket Girls Of New Orleans


“Okay, so there’s this convent and off the top of my head I don’t remember it but if you google like “New Orleans Convent Vampires” you’ll find like a version of it. So that’s when New Orleans was being like built into a new city and there were all these traders and fur trappers or whatever. So women, so they has women brought over from Europe who were essentially going to be mail order brides for these men. So there are crude jokes of it being like early human trafficking and the women were like exposed to the sun on the trip over on the boat so they got like severely sun burned so the men like freaked out when the women got off the boat and rejected them. So they took the women in at the local convent and they like turned the top floor into the places for them to stay. But somehow because it’s New Orleans and this is what happens, people started saying that the women up there can’t be exposed to sunlight, they must be vampires…and it turned into this whole legend about the vampires of the convent. So like if you go on the voodoo tour in New Orleans, you will go to this convent and be told the story.

Me: That is so interesting, wow.

Storyteller: It is crazy! I mean the stuff in New Orleans…like who thought that was true and you know…it’s New Orleans so who knows if it’s true…you never know there.

Background: The storyteller is from New Orleans so she had a couple stories to pick from but decided to share this one. She told me that although she couldn’t remember the exact name of the story (I later looked up the real name and titled this post with it), she knew that because of the weird history of New Orleans, an ancient event turned into a creepy legend.

Context: I asked her if I could interview her for this project. I knew that she was from the south and after collecting a couple stories from people who grew up in the south, I was fascinated with them and wanted to hear more. She gave me a few stories…one is this legend. I drove back home to meet her for some coffee before diving into the interview (along with another storyteller who is interviewed in a different post).

Thoughts: I have come to realize that there are many legends and ghost stories that come from the south. The reason for this is probably because of the south’s horrible history especially with slavery and the general mistreatment of black people and women. I think that whether or not this legend is true and the women actually were vampires (even though it seems unlikely), it is interesting to me how easily skewed a simple story can become in New Orleans. It seems like the city has a rich culture and likes to accumulate as many interesting stories as it can. It makes it unique.

Great Grandmother’s Murder House

Storyteller: “So my mom’s entire family is from New Orleans, which is essentially the most haunted city in the world…like there is so much tragedy and everyone…like if you grew up there you kind of believe in ghosts? Like you pretend you don’t but you do. No city can have that much tragedy and death and not have stuff wandering around. So my great grandmother had this really nice house. And I remember like being…sort of with it enough as a kid to be like ‘we are not rich, how did she afford this really nice house.’ And it was because it used to be a brothel and there was a murder there and so my family got it really cheap. So it was a murder house right? So the story was that one of the women that worked int he brothel was married. And her husband came in and dragged her up to the attic and they had a huge fight and he killed her. And there were these dark stains on the floor up there that everyone said was blood stains…that would not come out. Whether they were or not I don’t know, but that’s what I know this story was. So, basically they would always tell us that ‘Herald’, essentially, used to live in the attic because it’s where he killed his wife. And we were like ‘yeah whatever. Ha ha. Very funny.’ So my cousins and I are upstairs one day and we are playing in the attic and all of this weird crap starts happening. Like a door slams and a window that like…things like open and not a problem open and like weird weird stuff. And so we were like ‘oh you know what it is. It’s uncle M, he’s trying to scare us…because my uncle was notorious for scaring the kids all of the time. So we were like, ‘it’s just him.’ And then we were like ignoring it and then I looked out the window and my uncle M was downstairs. And we literally screamed and ran downstairs as fast as we could [laughs]. And to this day…NO explanation for what was happening in that attic. We were like ‘maybe it was like the uncle? or whatever…’ but could never prove that it was another human in our family.” [seeing my disturbed face she adds] “Yeah…it’s very upsetting! [laughs] I did not enjoy that! But yeah, that is the story of my great grandmother’s murder house.”


Background: The storyteller is from the south (specifically New Orleans) and she got to spend a lot of time growing up there. As a result, she not only has a lot of knowledge on the stories people told about the city, but she also had her own personal experience with a ghost in her great grandmother’s murder house.

Context: I asked her if I could interview her for this project. I knew that she was from the south and after collecting a couple stories from people who grew up in the south, I was fascinated with them and wanted to hear more. She gave me three stories…one of them included this first person narrative of her experience with what she still to this day believes was a ghost. I met up with her and another storyteller for coffee to go over the details.

Thoughts: Like the storyteller already pointed out, New Orleans is famous for being one of the most haunted places in the world. There really is so much tragedy that has occurred in that city throughout the years that it is not hard to believe that there are many ghost stories and legends that derive from it. It is scary to hear and see things out of the ordinary especially when we cannot figure out the realistic cause of it. Many people refuse to believe in such things as ghosts and live in denial with the fact that they may be real. Some things that cannot be explained frighten us.

Haunted House in New Orleans

My sister’s friend, she’s in her late thirties, and we call her Sam. She’s from Jamaica too but she lives in LA. She and her best friend, once a year travel to somewhere cool together. And at the end of last year, around November, they travelled to New Orleans together. And there’s this street that’s a well known street in New Orleans, I forget the name of it but I could ask my sister, where really pretty houses are that have been there for a super long time, it’s just one street with really old houses. And so they were just looking around touring the area, it’s near Bourbon Street. And they drove upon one really pretty house, it stood out from the rest of them because it just looked so well kept, well taken care of, it looked like somebody lived there.


Do people live in the houses?


Some of them. This one there was no car in the driveway, none of the windows were open. And the door was like a wooden double door, and the top of the door had like glass, about three quarters of the door was glass, so you could kinda see through the house, and it was all empty. And so they drove upon the house, and then all of a sudden, both of them started saying they don’t have a good feeling, like the house is beautiful but they just don’t feel like they should be here, like they’re infringing on somebody’s personal life and personal property. And okay, Sam is the most non-believer of all the non-believers. You know, she’s like the atheist of believing in ghosts. And she just kept complaining that she felt down in her emotions, she just felt weird, and she got super antsy and like, I don’t want to be here because I don’t want to get them mad, I don’t want to get them mad. And her friend was like, who are you going to get mad? Like what are you talking about the house is empty, it’s clear that nobody lives there. And Sam was like somebody’s there and I know. Like with conviction she was just like we are not supposed to be here. Somebody’s not happy with us being here. And her friend was like what are you frickin talking about, this isn’t like you to say any of this…and then her friend started being like you know I think you’re right, like I think we shouldn’t be here. And this is while they’re talking in the car, and how my sister described it was like, this is where the car was, and this is where the front door was, so it wasn’t a long driveway. So they looked back, at the house, and they saw a little boy…I hate telling this, don’t you ever think that when you tell these stories it sounds just ridiculous? They saw like a little boy in an army uniform, like a khaki button up with badges and buttons. And they said it was evident it was a boy’s face because he had little blonde hair, he had baby blue eyes, his face was super young, but they both said they saw him perfectly, in the doorway. And they were like…he couldn’t be that tall for us to see him in the doorway, and both of them saw him.


So they saw him through the glass in the door?


Through the glass, and then they just started freaking out. They weren’t scared, they were just like holy shit, and both of them saw him. And they were like, it wasn’t only me, she’s my witness, it was there. And then they left, and they were like we’re researching this, find out the history of the house, the history of this street, everything. And it turns out that that house was a refugee house for people during World War II, and the little boy was one of the ones who lost his dad. His dad was a soldier. So they think the little boy was wearing his dad’s uniform. And they said that when they looked up the story and everything, multiple people had, when they see that house…like they weren’t the only ones who reported that story, like they read others, and the little boy is there to remind people to never forget them, that there’s a history here and don’t forget this history, it’s alive and well. Okay so the story has a twist, you’re gonna be like what the fuck. After they researched, it blew their mind, they wanted to go inside and look around. They came back and they couldn’t find the house. They could not find the house for the life of them, they drove up and down the street and they were like this is where the house was. The house wasn’t there. I swear to god. They couldn’t find the house. They were on the exact same street, and they couldn’t find it anywhere.


And after that, Sam was like I will never doubt anyone’s story ever again. She was like I feel like a dumbass telling this story.



This is a third hand account of someone’s personal experience. Clearly the ghost story was compelling enough for the informant’s sister to tell her, and for the subject to tell her friend. An additional aspect that enhances the belief in this legend is because both the friend and the sister know the subject’s reputation as a general non-believer of all things spiritual or having to do with legends. We might also infer that the subject is a good story-teller, or purveyor of folklore, because it seems as though the account is very detailed, specific, and compelling. It could also be the case that all three of the people in the line who have told this story are good storytellers, if indeed the story and its details have remained intact. There is also the possibility that either the second hand account or third hand account was embellished or changed, depending on their memory of the account they heard, how they interpretted the story, and the nature of how they tell stories. The account is also reinforced by similar stories on an internet database, where other people have had similar experiences. Adding to this the fact that the subjects didn’t know this history or the legends surrounding this house until after having had their own experience, so they had nothing to influence or bias their experience, and you get a pretty compelling and chilling account.