Le Blues Du Blanc Down The Bayou

Le Blues Du Blanc Down the Bayou is a tryptic of songs to kick off this fais do do and it is a dance.  Most of my songs go “Down the Bayou”. I heard this expression often as a child as my grandmother would speak of “her people” down Bayou Lafourche. Her memories were of Brusly St Martin and nearby Grand Bayou where my Le Blanc family lived at the time. She would speak of it with pride and longing. Grand Bayou was a mile or so from Bayou Corne. 

As a child we would drive by “Camp Bayou Corne” on the way to Pierre Part for seafood platters at the Rainbow Inn. It was like a small carnival or fair with rides. I don't think we ever stopped but it was a landmark.  

Greed dug a large cavern to extract brine next to a salt dome in Bayou Corne after ignoring warnings for decades. Got too close and the salt dome collapsed at a depth of 3000 feet. 

By the end of May 2012 people noticed bubbles of gas percolating in the water. In June and July there were earth tremors to magnitude 2.5. By late July there were hundreds of microquakes daily. In August 2012 the tremors stopped. Mama used to speak of “Avertissement”. A very old french word for a warning. Usually of a supernatural knowing like dreams and visions. There is a song ;-)

Aug 3, 2012 a sinkhole opens in a cypress grove. It was an acre or two in size and smelled like diesel. Today it has stabilized at around 36 acres. Bayou Corne and Grand Bayou a mile away are no more. At best a shadow of what they were. 

That life and culture has been battered and bruised for generations yet survives and thrives after fighting as a cohesive culture and people for over 400 years.  We spent 150 years as a unique culture and people in L' Acadie, what is now Nova Scotia, before spending the last 250 years or so in Louisiana. We have survived war and famine and separation. They tried to take our children from us. They put us on boats and sent us back to France. My parents generation received corporal punishment for speaking French in school. 

They surrvived. They thrived. My people speak French. 23andMe says that I am 93% french, largely due to isolation and a couple of genetic bottlenecks. I am more french than most frenchmen and damn proud of it. 

It will take some time to tell the tale but we start with this tryptic of songs. Jambalaya Fire is the call and the invitation to come “Down The Bayou” and feel the heat. Fais Do Do Papa Gotta Go is a moment in time and passion. Estelle is his daughter, my grandmother. He is the papa in her song. They are people and stories I remember or heard of. 

This is family. We all like to dance