Parade Finale

I saved two of my favorite photos of the parade for last. I don’t know why there wasn’t a photo of the Yambilee King and Queen, but they were usually on the last float.

I like this one because it tells a little story of how the Cajuns got to Louisiana. Also, the people on the float are dressed in traditional Acadian costumes.

Can you guess which one of these gowns is my favorite in the below photo? Extra candy if you guess the right one.

Can you also guess why the horsemen/women come at the very end?

Here is a shot of some of the floats lined up before the parade.

I hope you enjoyed the show and caught lots of candy. If you missed the other four parts, you can find them at these links:

I Love A Parade

Then Come the Floats

Living Color 

Are You Ready for Some More Parade?

I’d like to thank my mom for allowing me to show these photos. Okay, I didn’t ask, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.

I have used all but two of the photos she had and am wondering how many there would be if my parents had had digital cameras back then…


Then Come The Floats

After the clowns with shopping carts selling balloons and cotton candy, the police on motorcycles, the scouts, a marching band come the cars carrying visiting royalty and other important people of the town,  such as the mayor.

They always ride in convertibles, but if it is a sports car, so much the better. 

What makes this part a hit with the crowd is they always throw candy. Free stuff, Yay! I’ve been in parades where I’ve had to sit in a car and trust me, if you do not have a sack of bubble gum or Sweetarts to throw, the only people who will give you any attention are the little old ladies who clap for everyone.


Floats. Love ’em. The one above is a beach scene. The girl in the gown would most likely be a visiting queen from another festival such as the Crawfish Festival. Visiting royalty are spread out over the rest of the floats. 

The above is so badly damaged (a Polaroid), I almost didn’t put it up here, but I like the queen waving with her gloved arm. And that clown riding the unicycle beside the float just rocks. 

And wow, look at those seahorses.

If you missed the beginning of the parade, you have to go see it, that’s where the crazy cars are.

Come back tomorrow, I’ll have some floats in color.

I Love A Parade!

So let’s have one. Cajun style. Vintage.

During the 60s and 70s my parents took a lot of photos of the Yambilee parade in South Louisiana. (Our city was the yam capital of the world.) Festivals are a big deal in these parts, at least they used to be.

For the next week or two I’ll put some up on the blog. Parades are like stories. They have a theme, they build and climax, they have props, costumes, pretty girls and talent.

They usually start out slow, you can hear the sirens and funny cars coming.

That’s probably to make sure the spectators are out of the street so they don’t get run over by the tractors and floats.

And then the Scouts,

Followed by the local high school bands.

Okay, that is all I have for today. I’m actually scanning and restoring them as we go. Make sure you come back tomorrow. There’s some really cool stuff in the pipeline and I throw candy.


Scanned Image Before Photoshop


I’ve been scanning and doing a little restoration on some old photos. I’m still learning loads about what works best, but as you can see this one needs a lot more work. It was overexposed and either the inks have faded or the photo album it was in did something to it, I don’t know.

The thing is though, doing all this brings back old memories. That is me at the age of about six just after having my tonsils removed. I didn’t always look so grumpy. The reason I chose this photo is I want to tell you about that mailbox behind my right shoulder.

I remember being tall enough to open it, but not being tall enough to see inside of that box. It was a magical mailbox to me because every so often people in my family would get presents from that box.

There was a doll I wanted, a beautiful ballerina doll named Dancerella and she had a pink sparkly crown. When you stuck your hand on the crown, this doll would pirouette. I didn’t tell a soul I wanted this thing, not sure why, maybe it was because we just didn’t ask for things. But I wanted that more than I’ve ever wanted anything (material) before or since.

And I was damned sure it would come via that mailbox. So every day for months I would go to the mailbox, open it, walk over to the oak tree nearby and stand on its roots to get the height I needed to see inside. Day after day, I was disappointed. No ballerina doll.

Then my dad got into a horrible car accident. For my mom, five kids and a broken up husband were too much to care for. So my aunts who lived four hours away came in to help the situation. They were taking the oldest three of us. I was sitting on the steps between the two aunts and they were asking me which one I wanted to go live with. I was confused, but I liked the idea that they were fighting over me.

One aunt had five kids. Three of them girls, one my exact age. The other had only two. One girl, and she was younger than I. Spoiled. Somehow that aunt was the one who convinced me to go live with her. On the way there I realized my mistake. The other aunt had kids swinging around on the ceiling fans like monkeys. It was like a fun house. What was I thinking, going with the one who had two spoiled kids?

Maybe I felt that one wanted me more. Aunt Lorica treated little girls like dolls. Her kids were adopted, thus way harder to get. It was her I chose. She would comb my hair and style it different ways. She bought me pretty dresses. She would also clean my ears out every single night. That was torture because she was convinced I had a piece of paper stuck in my ear. She saw something white in there and had this ice pik looking thing she used to try and dig it out. Very painful and she never got anything.

My spoiled cousin had everything. Every doll you could imagine, even some on shelves we were not allowed to touch. Most importantly, she had that Dancerella doll.

When Christmas came around I didn’t think Santa would bring my presents there, so when asked, I would just say I didn’t want anything. Come Christmas day, however, guess what I got?

Dancerella. With a sparkly blue leotard. She was even prettier than my cousin’s. Best of all, she was mine.

About the ear situation. The white thing my aunt was seeing was an infected eardrum. It got to the point where I was going deaf and reading lips (a skill I have to this day). That’s when my aunt took me to the doctor who said my tonsils were causing all the ear problems. I got my tonsils removed and got to move back home with my Dancerella.

My spoiled cousin and I ended up becoming best of friends, like sisters, and I would spend entire summers with them as a teenager. My aunt is still alive and lives down Bayou Lafourche. They’re evacuating right now because of Hurricane Gustav and going to my mom’s house. I sure would like to see them all, but the hurricane is headed toward my mom’s as well. It just won’t be as bad there.

For those of you who know my mom is in the hospital for tests, so far they haven’t found anything and she might be going home tomorrow. She’s feeling much better and sounds good too.