2020 Was a Good Year For Me
By: Cassie M. Thompson
Tags: Human Parts, Journal, Self, Travel, Lifestyle

Tuesday, September 22nd: Baton Rouge, LA

I decided to go check out some of these plantations that the area is famous for. The first one we visited is called Ashland Plantation, but is also known as “Belle-Helene Plantation.” It was completely deserted, except for the tree-trimmers who were there to manage all the foliage on the property. I think the only reason we were able to get in is because they had left the gate open. No one was around managing the property, so we walked around the grounds and I got to take some photos. It felt strange to be there, and I read the plaques which told a little of the history of this particular location. The house was pretty, but perhaps not as impressive as one might imagine. I felt far more moved by the spectacular trees which towered above.

We drove to the next plantation around. This one was called Houmas House and was indeed open. I’d felt a bit conflicted about visiting plantations in the first place, given their awful history. My solution to this was not to give them any of my money, because I assumed that whoever owned these places was unlikely doing anything good with their profits, doubtless failing to give back or donate the money to black charities. This place cost nearly $30 for entry, and though they were dog-friendly, I decided to stick with my plan and not pay up.

Finally, I visited one more. It was called St. Joseph Plantation and I think is adjacent to or part of the larger Felicity plantation. It was like the first in that no one seemed to be around, so I was able to walk about the grounds alone without anyone interrupting me. It was lovely. The main building was nothing spectacular, but I’m sure at the time was considered a fine house. It had a nice double staircase on the backside, and many buildings surrounding it.

I heard something at the gate we had come through and turned to see someone closing the gate. I waved and shouted, running towards him, worried that we were about to be locked in and would have to spend the night there if we could find no other way out. It was about 5:30pm at this point, so would be getting dark soon. The man stopped and looked at me, waiting for me to come across the yard to him. He was a frightening sight, a big man with huge ears and a look about him which said he might be suffering from some learning disability. He was approximately what you see a rural killer commonly depicted as in horror movies, and I was glad of the ditch which separated us from one another.

He was nice enough though, and heard me out, telling me that the gate wouldn’t have locked me in anyway, and that he was just closing it. I took the opportunity to ask him a little about the property and he told me that yes, some of these were old slave’s quarters, but that no, they didn’t really focus on teaching the history of the slaves here. They mostly focused on the owners and the history of the land and house. He also gave a somewhat unprovoked defense of the slave owners, saying that the slaves, particularly in this area of the state, were well-treated and hardly ever ran away. He said that even if they did run, the slave owners rarely chased them, since they lacked the means to track anyone down. Not exactly the best reason to let someone go free, but I wasn’t about to argue with this lumbering man about his conception of the area’s history while I was otherwise alone in an unfamiliar place. Anyway, it was interesting to hear this side of things, wrong or not.