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Louisiana

Writer's picture: JoeJoe

Howdy readers! Welcome to 2025. Doesn’t it feel like the future? We’re back with another update on the Crapitols quest. This time traveling to Cajun country – Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Cardinal.
Cardinal.

After only two Crapitols last year (Alabama, Indiana) I decided I needed to pick up the pace for 2025. With the annual winter blues rolling into the Mile High City, I tried to look for a destination in the more Southerly latitudes of our great nation, which basically only meant Hawaii, Florida, or Louisiana. I found a cheap flight to New Orleans in early January, booked myself a car and a hotel, and was on my way.

Appropriately polar.
Appropriately polar.

Sadly, my hopes of escaping Old Man Winter were dashed by a powerful winter storm all across the South that weekend. I departed Denver on a snowy 20 degree morning only to experience rain and temperatures in the 40s for most of my two-day stay in Louisiana. Louis Armstrong International Airport had live jazz in the terminal when I landed, however, so that was a small consolation.

Very on brand, MSY.

I had only been to Louisiana once previously, when my family drove to New Orleans from Georgia so my sisters could attend an Irish step-dancing competition. We made several such trips across Dixie in our three-year stint in suburban Atlanta, and this one was probably the most fun. We stayed in the French Quarter, which is really no place for children. I remember wandering through Bourbon street aghast at all the neon naked lady signs for strip joints and souvenir shops filled with ribald t-shirts. I was probably 10 at the time, so it wasn't really a proper New Orleans experience. This would be my first time back in the Pelican State since.

My trust steed.
My trust steed.

Upon landing I rented a Hyundai Tucson and headed west to Baton Rouge. I was immediately struck by the stark landscape – the ghostly swamp trees, flat as far as the eye can see, Lake Pontchartrain stretching to the horizon like the ocean. Squalorous swamp scenes straight out of True Detective popping up on the roadside every few miles.

Délicieux.
Délicieux.

I rolled into Baton Rouge just as the sun was setting and the rain began falling, and my first stop was for some Louisiana cuisine at Parrain’s Seafood. I started off with some Boudin balls, but my Louisiana native friend Jonathan said I’d have to try the catfish, so I ordered the fried catfish with crawfish etouffee and it was superb. The little French bread loaf they give you to sop up all the leftover sauce was incredible.

The capitol at night.
The capitol at night.

After my meal I headed for the Hampton Inn and Suites downtown, just a few blocks from the capitol and from the mighty Mississippi river. Just in time to watch the College Football Playoff semifinal game between Notre Dame and Penn State.

A dreary morning.
A dreary morning.

In the morning I arose early to hit the continental breakfast – had some bacon and eggs, country potatoes, and of course I couldn't refuse a side of grits (when in Rome). I grabbed a cup of coffee for the road and set off for the capitol a few blocks north.

Stately steps.
Stately steps.

The Louisiana State Capitol has one of the most compelling histories of all 50 state capitols, and it all starts with "the Kingfish," Huey Pierce Long. A legend in Louisiana politics, Long’s common-man populism lifted him to the Governor’s office in 1928, and then to the US Senate in 1932. The Old State Capitol, a castle-like structure from the mid-nineteenth century was no longer big enough for the state’s growing government, so Long championed the building of a new capitol. The Nebraska State Capitol was under construction at the time, the first to use a skyscraper design. Long latched onto the idea and convinced the legislature that an efficient modern skyscraper would save the state money, and the 34-story tower was constructed in an astounding 14 months for $5 million. Standing at 450 feet, it is the tallest of all 50 state capitols. It was officially opened in 1932.

There's Colorado.
There's Colorado.

It has perhaps the most impressive set of steps of any capitol building. Each step towards the entrance bears the name of a state in order of admittance into the Union. They ended up having to squeeze in Alaska and Hawaii off to the sides later.

There are two massive sculptures flanking the main entrance - Pioneers and Patriots by Lorado Taft.

Memorial Hall.
Memorial Hall.

After passing through security I approached the information desk to inquire whether they offer guided tours. To my great pleasure they do offer guided tours, and I was introduced to Jim, a kindly older gentleman who would be my private tour guide for the Louisiana State Capitol.

64 Parishes.
64 Parishes.

Jim pointed out the highlights of the main hall. In the middle of the floor there is a large bronze relief sculpture of Louisiana with all it’s 64 parishes (what they call their counties). The staff were just taking down all of the Christmas decorations that day, so there were pine needles everywhere. The floor in the hall is made of Mt. Vesuvius lava from Italy.

The floor is lava.
The floor is lava.

Louisiana has a unique history, and a very unique culture amongst the 50 states because it's the only place in our country that used to be France. The French influence can be seen everywhere. The name Baton Rouge comes from the French meaning "red stick." Legend has it that the Houma and the Bayougoula tribes used a cypress pole to mark the boundary dividing their hunting grounds. During a 1699 expedition French explorer Sieur d'Iberville saw the blood-stained pole along the Mississippi River bluff and dubbed the area “le bâton rouge.” The ten flags hanging from the balcony in the main hall represent every domain that has laid claim to Louisiana. Those ten flags are Castille and Leon, the French Fleur-de-Lis, the British Union Jack, the flag of Bourbon Spain, the French Tri-Color, the 15-star United States Flag, the single-starred flag of Republic of West Florida, the National Flag of Louisiana, the Louisiana State Flag with its mother pelican and her fledglings, and the United States Flag. Curiously absent are the Confederate flag and any representation of the indigenous peoples of the area.

Two tons of fun.
Two tons of fun.

Two massive two-ton chandeliers hang in the wings of the hall, and the entrances to the House and Senate chambers are decorated with beautiful murals by Jules Guerin, whose murals adorn the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. They're titled Goddess of Knowledge and Time, and Abundance of the Earth.

Goddess of Knowledge and Time.
Goddess of Knowledge and Time.

The doors to the House of Representatives chamber are one ton of bronze each, with relief sculptures depicting scenes from Louisiana history.

Jim absolutely crushing it.
Jim absolutely crushing it.

The hand-painted ceiling tiles in the House Chamber are Celotex, a material made from a byproduct of the sugar refinement process called bagasse. There are also cute swamp creatures depicted in the molded frieze where the walls meet the ceiling.

House chamber.
House chamber.

On the opposite end of the building is the Senate chamber, with its grand columns and a more patrician motif. It’s ceiling features 64 hexagonal tiles for the 64 parishes of Louisiana.

Senate chamber.
Senate chamber.

Embedded in one of the ceiling tiles at the back of the chamber is a large splinter of wood from an April 1970 bombing incident. An afterhours explosion of 20-30 sticks of dynamite destroyed the desk at the front of the chamber and sent wooden shards flying all over the room. Some of the stars lining the tops of the columns remain crooked, having been knock out of place by the blast.

Boom went the dynamite.
Boom went the dynamite.

Other notable features of Memorial Hall include two art deco vases that were gifts from France in 1934, in what can only be likened to your ex texting you desperately trying to get back together.

Take me back, mon cheri.
Take me back, mon cheri.

There are also double size statues of several of Louisiana’s governors, among them Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville. Bienville is known as the founder of the city of New Orleans, which can only be described as a unequivocal success. Well done, monsieur. There is also a bust of P.B.S. Pinchback, the first Black governor of any US state.

Jean Baptiste LeMoyne Sieur de Bienville.
Jean Baptiste LeMoyne Sieur de Bienville.

The most important event in the history of the Louisiana State Capitol, however, was the 1935 assassination of Senator Huey P. Long, the very man who built the place. I, of course, remembered the gist of this incident from a 1992 episode of Unsolved Mysteries (season 5, episode 3), but Jim gave me a quick refresher lesson.

The executive hallway.
The executive hallway.

Now, Huey Long was a man of the people, but he was also a vindictive man who ruled Louisiana with an iron fist, and he made many enemies along his path to power. On September 8th, 1935, the former-Governor-turned-Senator was at the capitol pressuring legislators to pass a redistricting bill that would Gerrymander Judge Benjamin Henry Pavy, a political rival, out of office. The original story of the assassination states that Dr. Carl Weiss, a local physician and son-in-law of Judge Pavy waited for Long in the executive corridor outside the Governor’s office, and when he saw his chance, stepped out from behind a column and shot him in the torso. Long dashed away yelling, “He shot me,” while his bodyguards proceeded to shoot Weiss at least 60 times, killing him instantly. Surgery was performed, but Long died 30 hours later on September 10th, 1935. One of only two sitting US Senators to have been assassinated (you know who the other is, right?)

Damn, I'm 42.
Damn, I'm 42.

That was the official version for decades, but according to Jim, the now widely accepted version, which he has full permission to divulge, is that Weiss never had a gun on him and didn’t shoot Long, who was actually accidentally shot by one of his body guards. Jim said that Long’s team of bodyguards had standing orders to shoot first and ask questions later. It is believed that when Weiss approached the Senator he only punched him in the face, and Long was clipped by one of his own bodyguards in the ensuing hail of bullets. There are bullet holes still visible all throughout the hallway where the incident happened, and one bullet still remains lodged in a column.

Still there after 90 years.
Still there after 90 years.
The spot where it happened.
The spot where it happened.

A nurse who attended to Long at the hospital later claimed she asked him why his lip was bleeding, to which he replied, “that’s where he hit me,” possibly suggesting that Weiss had merely punched him. There are also continuing questions about whether a gun was found at the scene or was found later in Weiss’ car. The Weiss family has been trying to clear his name for the past 90 years. No autopsy was performed on Long, so it’s possible that the truth was covered up. Watch the episode and judge for yourself.

The official story.
The official story.

Tens of thousands of mourners turned up to see the beloved politician laid to rest on September 12th, 1935, on the grounds of the state capitol that he built, which would serve as a monument to all he achieved for the people of Louisiana. An outspoken opponent of Franklin D. Roosevelt, many felt he was bound for the Presidency in 1936. History might have gone very differently.

Long's grave.
Long's grave.
His beloved building.
His beloved building.

And what’s the point of building the tallest state capitol if you can’t go all the way to the top? The elevators in the main hall, with their brass doors depicting governors of Louisiana, take you up to the 24th floor.

The 24th floor once held a private apartment for Huey Long, but now has a souvenir penny machine! It’s also where you must catch one final elevator to the observation deck on the 27th floor.

There is a gift shop with a staff of three at the top, so I purchased (wink, wink) some souvenir pins to go with my pennies. I stepped outside onto the observation deck and it was just miserably cold, windy, and drizzly. The views weren’t great in those conditions. I could see the river of course, and much of downtown. The forecast for the next morning looked a bit better so I told myself I’d return to get some better pics. Sadly, there are no restrooms available on the 27th floor.

Dreary at the top.
Dreary at the top.

I headed back down the elevator to the find the bathrooms on the main floor. The stalls were very short - I assume original to the building. Though I’m sure there are private facilities for the use of the governor, I couldn’t help but wonder if the Kingfish ever used the very stall I sat in. Crapitol number 28 in the books.

Facilities could use a refresh.
Facilities could use a refresh.

I returned to the information desk to thank Jim once more and get my passport stamped, then I was out the door.

Official.
Official.

After completing the mission I headed back to my hotel room to recharge my phone and warm up for a while. I had a few local sights and food spots saved on Google maps, so I set about wandering the town. First I made my way a few blocks west to the banks of the river.

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I
M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I

We spent a few years growing up on the Mississippi in Bettendorf, Iowa, so Baton Rouge had a familiar river town vibe to it. There are a few casino boats, along with the massive petro-chemical plants and cargo ships docked at the port. I wandered down the river a ways and then back into downtown.

Fortress on the Mississippi.
Fortress on the Mississippi.

I stopped into the sparkling new Baton Rouge library downtown. It’s located adjacent to the Old Capitol, the castle-like building that was the previous seat of the state government. Sadly, the Old capitol was closed for periodic maintenance while I was there. From pictures on the web it appears to be quite spectacular inside, with brilliantly colored stained glass. There is also an extensive exhibit on the life and career of Huey Long, which has the alleged gun used in his assassination. Another time perhaps.

The Old Governor's Mansion.
The Old Governor's Mansion.

Another downtown highlight is the Old Governor’s mansion. When Huey Long became governor he had the previous mansion torn down, and on the same site built a new state-of-the-art residence. Finished in 1930, the building was very deliberately designed to resemble the White House, hinting at Long’s political ambitions. It was replaced by a new mansion near the capitol in 1963.

The Long bedroom.
The Long bedroom.

Strangely, there was absolutely no one in the building during the 20-or-so minutes I spent wandering. The rooms are well-furnished with original pieces and mementos from the Long administration.

Mirrors galore.
Mirrors galore.
Lavender.
Lavender.

There is also a room dedicated to Jimmie Davis, the country singer who became Governor of Louisiana in 1944. Davis, along with his collaborator Charles Mitchell were the first to record and copyright the American standard You Are My Sunshine, which became the official state song of Louisiana in 1977 in his honor.

The mansion now hosts lots of weddings, apparently.



When lunch time came around I found myself walking towards Frostop, an old-timey diner famous for Poboys and rootbeer floats. The facade has clearly seen better days, but the kitsch was still evident inside. The shrimp poboy was decent, but the rootbeer float was among the best ice cream treats I’ve ever had.

Perfection.
Perfection.

I headed back to the hotel to grab my car to see a few other sites around town. I drove through the campus of Louisiana State University, which turns out is more than just a sports program, but a whole college with academics and stuff. The campus has gorgeous Spanish colonial style architecture and massive live oaks and lush magnolia trees everywhere.

Death Valley.
Death Valley.

I also visited the Magnolia Mound site, a well-preserved plantation dating all the way back to 1790.

Magnolia Mound.
Magnolia Mound.

I took the $5 self-guided tour option which allowed me to wander the grounds at will. I peered into the main house from the wide verandas common to the Creole style of architecture. Some of the outbuildings were reproductions from more recent years, but the overseer's house and one of the slave cabins remained basically as they were at the time of the Civil War. It struck me how much smaller the plantation seemed than some depictions in popular films. It was certainly no Tara or Candyland. The banks of the Mississippi were lined with countless such small operations. It’s incredible to imagine the scope of the centuries-long institution of slavery.

Slave cabin.
Slave cabin.

Although the weather was cold and gloomy I couldn’t escape the feeling I was in a jungle. Everything was so lush and wild and overgrown. I can't imagine what a hellish nightmare of heat and humidity it must be in the summer time.

Live oak.
Live oak.

The next morning I hit the continental breakfast once again and headed back out to get some more shots of the capitol. The skies were luckily clearing up by the time I got there, so I headed up to the observation deck once more. The views were much clearer than the previous day. I could see Tiger Stadium towards the south end of town, as well as a much clearer view of the massive ExxonMobile plant to the North.

Clearing skies.
Clearing skies.
A better view.
A better view.

Since the weather was so much nicer I wandered through the sprawling gardens around the capitol and along the Capitol lake trail. I checked out the Pentagon Barracks nearby. Originally part of a military installation, these building were later part of Louisiana State University, along with the rest of the capitol grounds, until 1926 when the school moved to the south side of town.

Flags at half-mast for Jimmy Carter.
Flags at half-mast for Jimmy Carter.

Time was running out for Baton Rouge. I checked out of my hotel and hit the road, but not before dropping some postcards in the mail. To my disappointment there was no live jazz when I returned to MSY, so I just wandered the concourses in the few hours before my flight to get my steps in for the day. Made it back to Denver without a hitch.

American hero.
American hero.

With it's grand scale and unique story, coupled with the local food and culture, the Louisiana State Capitol is easily one of the best capitols I've visited so far. Highly recommended if you're ever in the area.


Crapitol number 29 is already booked for February 2025. Stay tuned to find out which one it will be.

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1 commentaire


Glad you were finally able to tour my home state. Great write-up.

J'aime

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