I remember the New Basin Canal and the bridge one crossed to get to the Yacht Club boat basin. I remember the lighthouse and the restaurants for fish food. I remember the boat docks south of the parks that has been filled in now and used for apartments, etc. At that time it was a watershed filled with boat docks that had elevated wooden walkways to get to the boat dock. I went through a loose board one day and scared my poor dad that I'd lose my leg. I grew to be able to walk the world on an airplane.

Remember the canal when it went at least to Carrollton Ave.? Did you know that canal was built by the immigrant Irish? They died by the hundreds from fever and malaria. There is a cross to commemorate them on the filled land there now.

I remember the lakefront before there were subdivision homes built there. In fact I had cousins who during the depression years lived in a little double house in "Lakeview" right near the lake. There was a small water cutoff--too small to be called a bayou--across from their house (few homes were around--it was country). As kids we used to try and catch the sluggish catfish with our bare hands in that water. You had to be careful to grab them behind their barbs, or get hurt.

In later years, when grown, Dad had an old catboat which he found half buried in the sand over on the Gulf Coast. He repaired, fitted and painted it himself, and we sailed it on Lake Pontchartrain. The lake is only 30 feet deep at the most and water would get choppy. But we loved to sail her and go after the watermelons that would fall off the barges carrying them into new Orleans to be sold. They aren't used anymore that way. But it was exciting to try and get one from the water--they would float for a while. Catching one was harder than trying to get an apple from a water barrel with your teeth. The watermelon would roll over and over and slip out of your hands. To get one was luck. Speaking of luck; you won't believe this one--for Ripley. While trying to fish from the boat one day, all I caught was one catfish. We threw him back after a knife to his head--catfish were not known as good eating in those days--it took Prudhomme to make them famous. Anyway, a while later I caught another catfish--it was the same one--with the knife injury to his head. Couldn't kill him that way! Threw him back again and quit fishing. You will probably think I make up fish stories, but that actually happened.

I remember when there was ferry service from the New Basin Canal at the lighthouse that took us across to Mandeville. I remember church picnics across the lake--large boat--it was such a treat.

I remember the Amusement Park out at the lake near where the Shushan Airport is. That was a treat. I tell of the Shushan Airport and our departures from there in my book. PAA used the old Boeing Stratoliner, the first passenger pressurized aircraft--had individual compartments that could be made into berths, like on a train. We only had three of them--TWA had the most. Only one of ours still exist and it is in Boeing's hangar now up in Seattle, being restored as a museum piece. The second one crashed and the third I saw in Saigon years ago, in decrepit state--no longer belonged to PAA. That story I have in my book too. At Shushan PAA used to have a large bell which was struck to announce our departure, and the crew would walk to the plane, double file, in step. This impressed those who came to watch the big planes in the days before Moisant was built.

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