Memoir begins - Neil B.

Neil Burns - October 3, 2005 - Memoir

Between January 1986 and May 1990 I felt very lucky to be part of a graduate school program, eventhough I moved nearly every 6 months between Athens, GA and Bay Saint Louis, MS. I had the chance to work on a PhD in Ecology at the internationally famous Institute of Ecology while doing an internship with NASA! Wow, me, who felt like I got into my Masters program mainly because I did not ask for financial aid. Well I had an exciting path ahead of me that continued much beyond what I ever planned.

When I began that project I thought I would get better at packing up my apartment into my car before I started on the 400 mile journey between Athens, GA and Bay Saint Louis, MS. I was wrong. Instead of paring down and getting more efficient, I collected more stuff, relationships and memories than I ever imagined. The town of Bay Saint Louis is on the Mississippi Gulf coast and less than an hour from the French Quarter of New Orleans. I did not know much about New Orleans except that my parents, who were from South Carolina, met and married each other there. I had visited New Orleans once with my parents when I was in my late 20s. We arrived on New Year’s Eve, the day before the Sugar Bowl, with no hotel reservations and a dog. While checking out a hotel of my father’s choice my mother and I found the place a bit odd. The dark blue velvet on the walls was a strong contrast to the bright white plaster statues of Venus that decorated the spacious room. Sure it was New Orleans, so we expected we would see some tacky places. This one caused my Mother to think it over. We retuned to the car where my father was waiting with Pepe, the 10-year old poodle. Once inside the car we described the room to my Dad, and then we saw it. Brightly illuminated from within was a sign above the entrance to the motel. It listed the rates by the hour. So, the first time I went to New Orleans I went to a whorehouse with my mother while my father waited in the car with the poodle. New Orleans took up a special place in my heart, and as I would find out some years later, in my life as well.

For years even before I imagined moving to the MS Gulf coast I had recurring dreams about walking through an historic city that reminded me of Charleston, SC where I had lived for nearly 10 years. However, for reasons I could not explain, it was not Charleston. I'm not sure why eventhough it had a similar sense of place of an historical city in a hot climate with balconies and cast iron. I often thought that it was a "stylized' version of Charleston but that did not seem true to the spirit of the place. My sense of walking through the area was one of simultaneous familiarity and yet something new to be discovered. It was not unusual to feel that some big change of events had recently happened. Most often I would be walking or on a bicycle. Out in the open, not in a car. Sometimes I would be in an area that where mostly poor black people lived. Not being in a car seemed like I was a little at risk as a fairly easy target if someone wanted to confront me. However, I felt that moving with determination worked to my advantage and no one ever harassed me. I continued to have those dreams even after I moved to the MS Gulf Coast. The place in the dreams was still familiar yet something else was present.