The New Orleans Reunion, July 2005 - as experienced by Harry Baya (last modified 7/20/2005)

The Caracas Reunion (officially referred to as the “Venezolano Americano Reunion”) was successfully held in New Orleans from the evening of Thursday, July 7 through Monday morning July, 11, 2005. I have tried to capture in this document my experience of the reunion.

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If you can send me your memories of the weekend (a paragraph or full write up… all is welcome) I will post them on this site. Please send your text and/or pictures to me at harry@baya.net. Many of the photos are already posted on the Caracas site at “boppers.net/caracas”

Here is a tentative list of who was at the reunion:

. I have the pictures I took, and those that Charles Finch took, and I will try to link appropriate ones to the text below. We had originally expected close to 40 people at the reunion, but there were several last minute cancellations. I was especially disappointed that Harry Sasson could not make it. He, Fred Hill and I were in the same graduating class with Betsy Johnson, who did make it, at Colegio Americano. I was looking forward to having us all together. Also especially missed by me were Cathy Latimer Brawer,who we had just tracked down in the last year, and her good friend, Marijke Van Der Plas. They live near each other and had resumed their friendship after many years. Marijke has been to several reunions, but this would have been the first for Cathy.

Though I am most interested in seeing the people I knew well in Caracas, I find that I like most of the people I have met at these reunions and in some cases the new friendships have become an important part of getting together each year. It seems to me that each of us should do what we can to get our friends from Caracas to join us at the reunions... and then, once we are there, we will find that the fun of the weekend will come from many sources.

We were at the Ponchartrain hotel about 1-1/2 miles from the French quarter. The Ponchartrain was once one of the finest hotels in New Orleans, but that was years ago. It still has a sense of elegance in spite of peeling paint in the rooms and few other problems. It worked out well for the reunion.

Mary Wilkes Filos and her husband, Marcos, had rented the penthouse suite on the 12 th floor and the main room there was our party room and gathering place for the weekend. We had a beautiful view of the city from there. Fred Hill and his wife, Betty (who finally made it to a reunion) and Mary (and probably others. Tanya? Marcos?) had arranged for cold cuts, liquor, drinks, ice, and everything else needed for an on-going gathering. Everything was the best.

Thursday, July 7, 2005

I went up to the penthouse on Thursday evening around 7 PM and found about 12 people already there. Within an hour a group was organized to go out to eat at Michaul’s restaurant, about a mile away. We gathered outside the hotel and took the trolley up to the stop next to the restaurant. There were fourteen of us and we sat at one large table. I sat across from Lane Carlton Zatopek and her husband, Ed, and next to Art and Ariel Blackstone. The food was great and there was Cajun music and dancing. The dance instructor asked Lane to dance and off she went. I also saw Terry O’Neel dancing with Tanya Lopez Duchild. It was a fun evening.

The others returned by street car and I took a street car the other way into the French quarter where I had a room for one more night. It was only 9:30 and I assume some of the group stayed up late in the penthouse room. I gather that Jane Fast and Arnie Arnold came into the New Orleans airport well after midnight that night.

Friday, July 8, 2005

The next morning I came to the hotel and met a large group in breakfast café. We eventually ended up in two tables. By this time there was a lot of talk about hurricane Dennis which had hit Cuba and was headed for the keys. The concern was that (a) it might hit New Orleans and (b) it might hit the homes, or next destination, of some of the people at the reunion. I believe Ellen Sanpere, Antonio’s wife, left New Orleans Friday morning to avoid problems. Others left throughout the day on Friday, and during the day on Saturday. We were down to about 24, from a planned 36 or so, by dinner Saturday evening.

I ran some errands on Friday and came back to the penthouse around 2 PM. I found that a group had left earlier to go to Pat Obrien’s in the French Quarter. I set out after them and had no trouble finding them at a big table in the courtyard. Hurricanes, a popular New Orleans drink, and a specialty of Pat Obrien’s, were in order, so I had one. I think Charles Finch had three! It was ironic that we were ordering Hurricanes when the entire city was hoping that a hurricane could be avoided. By the time I got there Jack Eskinazzi was sharing a large piece of Chocolate cake. Our waitress did well to deal with this unruly group and I hope she was tipped well.

After a while most of us set off to walk through the French quarter down to the bank of the mighty Mississippi river. The street scenes and bars were just what you would expect in New Orleans. Along the way I noticed Trix talking to a man up the street in a uniform. When I came by him he stepped in front of me and asked where our group was from. Now there is an interesting question .. and I tried to answer it as briefly as I could. He then said “Well, I’m going to have to give you a ticket.” and proceeded to check some boxes on a pad of pre-printed paper traffic-like tickets. He ripped one off and handed it to me. The two boxes checked were “Too Handsome” and “Not Partying Hard Enough”. I later found that Trix’s ticket was for “Too Beautiful” and “Not Partying Hard enough”. We tried to party harder after that.

We got to the river bank and it was breathtaking. There were two paddle boats out in the river, and various musicians who looked like something from New Orleans postcards. We hung out and enjoyed the ambiance for a while and then set off for the hotel. Before we piled into a cab we went into a small tourist store filled with the most colorful and exotic stuff of the type found in so many of the stores in the French Quarter. I don’t think this store was exceptional. I think they are all exceptional. I took a number of pictures in the stores. Trix bought a New Orleans Jazz theme t-shirt and I bought Mardi Gras necklace with 5 or six large rubber frogs on it. I wore if for the next two days for some reason that I cannot explain. Most of piled into a cab to go back to the hotel.

By the time we got back to the hotel things were hopping in the Penthouse. This was the largest group we had because many left the next day to avoid risking the hurricane. Wimps! I distributed the refrigerator magnets I had made for the reunion. If you did not get one and want one, let me know.

Groups were organizing for dinner and I ended up with Lane and Ed Zatopek and Connie Finch. We went by cab to a restaurant a friend had recommended called “Jack Dempsey’s”. It was on the other side of the French Quarter from us and we had interesting conversations with the cab drivers in both directions. My understanding was that the driver who took us over had never been out of New Orleans in his 40+ year life. He was a little strange and eccentric.. which fits nicely with my image of New Orleans. He gave us a card and we got a car from the same company on the way back. The second driver confirmed that our first driver was one of the stranger ones in the city. He also discussed the possible incoming hurricane and explained that his company had 27 cabs and would have to get all of them parked on an upper floor to avoid water damage if the storm were to cause flooding in New Orleans. Apparently it floods to 15 feet quickly if the river defenses are breached.

The food was great at Jack Dempsey’s and we had a good time. At least Lane and Ed got one more meal in. They left the next morning to go back to Boerne, Texas. Lane was concerned that the storm might delay them and she had to be back for a meeting.

We got back to the hotel and went up to the Penthouse. I was disappointed to hear that Betsy Johnson had not yet arrived. We were expecting her earlier. By this time I had checked into the hotel and turned in my rental car. I heard Mary Wilkes was down at the hotel bar and decided to go see her in hope of discussing next year’s reunion. She was there all right, but I was too late. By the time I got there Mary had charmed a small coterie of people and was the center of a lively discussion of whatever came up. The group consisted of the bartender, a young chef from the hotel (Mary is a chef and he was quite attentive), and a young woman who lived nearby and taught high-school. I joined the group and we were entertained.

During the conversation at the bar I ordered and drank two of the specials of the evening, Mint Juleps. I will not do that again any time soon. Mary left, the chef left, the high-school teacher was joined by another woman about the same age who also taught school, and I was having trouble forming words. I then felt called to share the wisdom I have accumulated in 65 years with the two teachers. I think it took about ten minutes (in warped brain time) and I must say that those young women were polite. When they escaped from me, and from the bar, I went back up to the Penthouse and attempted to remain standing and carry on a conversation. I was able to do this for about ten minutes before realizing it was a loosing battle. At this point I was talking to Jane Fast, Alicia Occonor and her husband, Tommy, and the less said about my attempt at conversation, the better. I rarely drink much and this was a very rare experience for me. About the best I can say about it is that I made it safely to my room without help and did not have much of a hangover the next day.

Saturday, July 9

The breakfast room at the hotel was again a good gathering place. The breakfast gatherings were as much fun as any of the meals. By this time many people were leaving or had left New Orleans because of the hurricane. Jack Eskinazi left early that morning. Sometime before the big reunion dinner that Saturday night the following attendees had bailed out: Tanya & Robert Duchild, Jim & Glenda Tansey, Charles Finch, Ellen Sanpere, Jack Eskinazi, Art and Arlene Blackstone, Lane and Ed Zapotek and Mike Benedict.

Back up at the Penthouse I heard that Betsy Johnson Ragni, and her husband, Franco, had arrived at the hotel on Friday but did not know to contact anyone else from the reunion. I saw her briefly and she said she and Franco were going out to eat. I later realized I could have gone with them. I had not seen Betsy in 48 years and I was dying to talk to her.

At this point Bobby Taylor mentioned that he was going out for lunch with Snookie and Elaine Eckols and that they had room for more. I had not known Snookie and Elaine in Caracas, but I had known their older brother, David, who was a year behind me in Colegio Americano. Eventually Sal Sanpere and Jon Benedict joined us. Elaine lives in New Orleans (she manages an Eye Clinic in the Tulane Medical center) and Snookie was visiting from Caracas. Elaine had a Chevy Blazer which conveniently seats five. There were six of us. Bobby volunteered to go in the rear compartment behind the back seat. I was delighted to get the front passenger seat… and felt a little guilty about it since I did not really know Elaine, and Bobby did… but he seemed happy to help out and I got a personal tour of New Orleans. Thanks Bobby!

Elaine took us to Mulate’s restaurant, not too far from the hotel. I had heard of the original one outside of Lafayette and was delighted to get to this one. I had ONE Bloody Mary and a small serving of fried oysters. They were wonderful and I was happy to find that my body seemed to have forgiven me, for the most part, for the two Mint Juleps. After lunch Elaine drove us through the French Quarter and a tour of New Orleans. We stopped for a pit stop at an open air market and Sal and I drifted around. Everything had a kind of surreal feel to it and Sal and I were distracted for a few minutes before realizing the others were waiting for us in the car. Elaine then drove us out by her house in, I think, the “ Lakeside” area. We saw her dogs in the back yard and then drove a few blocks to Lake Ponchartrain. The lake side road was closed off due to the previous storm ("Cindy" before “Dennis?) and was covered with sand. There were two police cars there also. We got out of the car and walked two blocks to the lake. Elaine pointed out the bridge in the distance and told us that it’s 26 mile length made it one of the longest of its type in the world. We then drove back to the hotel. Along the way we passed an old New Orleans cemetery (all the graves are above the ground), a giant pumping station (for removing the water that seeps into New Orleans, which is 15 feet below sea level), and a giant closed gate that Elaine told us was one of many flood protections that were closed when a storm approached.

Though the TV forecasts said that hurricane Dennis would be hitting around Pensacola and was unlikely to hit New Orleans, Elaine Eckols was notified that emergency personnel were being called into the Tulane Medical center.

We returned to the hotel and Bobby, Jon, Sal and I hung out in the bar until it was time to get ready for dinner.

The reunion dinner and the cash bar reception before hand were held in the Caribbean Room of the Ponchartrain hotel. This, I was told by a New Orleans friend, used to be one of the best restaurants in New Orleans. It’s been closed since 1997, but the hotel still has a good kitchen and serves food in the bar, and, I was also told, to wealthy widows and widowers who choose to live there when they move out of their mansions. I thought the food, I had prime rib, was fantastic and the chef came out and took a well deserved bow. This was not the young chef Mary had enthralled the previous evening. Rather it was a high energy man in his thirties who Mary said was one of the best chefs in New Orleans.

During the reception and dinner I attempted to play some home-made CD’s of 50’s music. This kept me busy because the equipment did not like my CDs and stopped every few songs. I had made the CDs from a collection of songs that Mike Louder had made for me the previous year. He had sent me an MP3 disk and I had made two audio CDs. We got a few songs.

Dinner was a delight in spite of the greatly reduced attendance. I think we had about 24 people there. I sat between Betsy Johnson and her husband, Franco. Fred Hill was on her other side. Just like old times at Colegio Americano. Fred Hill introduced me and I handed out copies of the words and sang my Colegio Americano song for the fourth time at a reunion. I could hear others singing along. That song catches my feeling about those years in Caracas better than anything else I could do:

Oh Tell me was it real though it seems like a dream
In the valley by the mountains by the sea
Where it was always spring and our friends were all around
Kind universe you were good to me.

I’m not much of a deist these days and that song is as close to a prayer as I get.

Fred and Mary got up and gave us a pep talk about next year’s reunion which seems very likely to be held in Tuscon. They are close to completing the negotiations and we will announce dates when everything is settled.

An interesting experience occurred when I was attempting to explain to Betsy’s husband, Franco ( who speaks little English, but more than I speak Italian) about the “Too Handsome” and “Not Partying hard enough” ticket I had received the previous day. Betsy was busy somewhere else and Jane Fast, who speaks a little Italian, was helping me. We could not find words for “too much” and “not enough” and finally had to drag Betsy over to translate.

I announced at the dinner that though the planned reunion brunch the next morning at the Court of the Two Sisters, in the French Quarter, had been cancelled, I was going to go there at 11 anyway and hoped those still in town would join me. I also made arrangements to have Sunday dinner with Betsy and Franco. I still had not had much of a conversation with Betsy and 48 years between talks seemed too long.

After dinner many of went up to the Penthouse. I was feeling a little frayed, probably due to the Mint Juleps the previous evening, and bowed out early. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Actually, it took a little while to leave as the elevator to the 12 th floor had stopped working and we took a back stair way down to the 11 th floor. The stairwells and halls looked like a set for crime in a B movie and our descent seemed to go through another unused floor. Our little party got to see what’s behind the curtain in Oz and it was a little grim… but it got us out.

Sunday breakfast was the usual gathering… except some of us were holding back for the brunch at 11. Betsy and Franco went to the Catholic cathedral instead, and we survivors went to a lovely brunch at the Court of the Two Sisters, one of the most famous places in New Orleans. It was a little pricey at $25 each, but the buffet was one of the finest I have seen and the atmosphere was wonderful. At out table were Jane Fast, Trix Koome, Connie Finch Ritter, me, Terry O’Neel and Arnie Anderson. We had a ball. Here is a picture that will amuse the group who was there..and confuse anyone else. Connie and I went back to the hotel and the others wandered into the French Quarter.

I packed and read and decided to take one more trip to the French Quarter. I took the trolley in and shopped in the tourist stores. I bough a few trinkets, and a Zydeco CD, and took pictures of all the Mardi Gras stuff I find so attractive. I took the trolley back to the hotel and finished packing.

On Sunday evening at 6 PM we all met in the lobby, including the Ragnis, and decided to go the Cheesecake restaurant about a half a block from the hotel. This worked out well and we had a great meal. Trix ordered a drink about the size of a large soup, but seemed to handle it well. I made arrangements with Betsy to go over our high school yearbook after dinner.

We returned to the hotel and I got the 1957 Colegio Americano yearbook. It was a balmy summer evening and we decided to sit at one of the wrought iron tables outside the front door of the hotel to go through the year book. After 48 years I found it wonderfully satisfying to look through the book with Betsy. I had left Caracas in July of 1957 and the yearbook was not printed till August. Several friends had added notes this made it especially fun. Notes from Harry Sasson, Carol Wolcott and Lane Carlton were there. Carol had added a few comments about people (e.g. she wrote “Hypocrite” next to Dr. Hamilton’s picture in several places).

We noticed a lot of old friends, some dead, some lost, and some we are still trying to get to a reunion (e.g. Georgeanne Ordones, David Sommer, Pat Manzella. Lilia Wyszkowski). Two experiences while looking at the yearbook with Betsy stand out in my mind.

The first was noticing a page that had a picture of Betsy and me standing together on the steps going into Colegio Americano. Betsy recalled that her hand was behind her back in the picture because she was hiding a sandwich. The picture was labeled "Brightest Future”. Well, we did succeed in one sense. It seemed to me that we both have had good, satisfying lives, with loved ones, children, ups and downs and paths we would never expected. On the other hand, neither of us exactly rang the big success bell. Betsy, in addition to raising a family and enjoying life, spent a good part of the last 40 years behind the counter of a tobacco & sundries store and I went though an assortment of jobs and never rose above the junior manager level. Underachievers of the world, Unite!

The second occurrence was at the end of the evening as I turned the last page of the Yearbook, after all the advertisements, to get to the last page before the cover. There were two dedications hand written in my yearbook, One was from Betsy and the other was from Connie Finch, who was sitting on the other side of Betsy as we went through the yearbook. This gave me a strong sense of closure that felt just right.

The next morning it was breakfast time again. Terry O’Neel had left early, and driven Arnie to the airport on the way, so there were only a few us left. We packed and said goodbyes during the morning and Connie, Betsy, Franco and I shared a cab to the New Orleans airport, leaving the hotel at noon. Betsy and Franco were off to see Betsy’s sister (Tia?) and mother in Denver, Connie was returning to Winston Salem, N.C., and I was flying back to Charlotte, N.C. on my way home to Abingdon, Virginia.

It was a great reunion. I loved it all. Harry Baya, Sunday, July 17, 2005