Haunted New Orleans: Cursed Cemeteries, Voodoo Queens, and more
Come with me on my trip to one of the most haunted cities in the world, New Orleans. Which ghosts haunt the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1? Could Marie Laveau truly influence the legal system with her voodoo? And for as hard as I tried, did I actually see a ghost?
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Heart Starts Pounding is written and produced by Kaelyn Moore.
I took the video below in November 2023. This is right outside Muriel’s restaurant near Bourbon St. in New Orleans. The one-time owner of the house that became the restaurant took his own life there after losing everything gambling, and it’s said he never left. He often moves glasses around tables, wine bottles around the kitchen, and a table is always set and a glass of wine poured for him every evening. Can you spot anything in the video below? If you have your haunted New Orleans experiences, you can share them here.
Video taken outside Muriel’s restaurant in New Orleans.
SOURCES
https://www.history.com/topics/us-states/new-orleans
https://jamesduvalier.com/marie-laveau-legendary-voodoo-queen-stories/
https://digitalcommons.xula.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1083&context=xulanexus
https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/nicolas-cage-s-pyramid-tomb
https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/a-torture-chamber-is-uncovered-by-arson
https://www.reddit.com/r/Ghosts/comments/6whzy0/snapped_this_ghostly_figure_leaning_over_a_table/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delphine_LaLaurie#refNewOrleansBee11Apr34
https://allthatsinteresting.com/lalaurie-mansion
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/237122135/nicholas-kim-cage
https://digitalcommons.xula.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1083&context=xulanexus
https://jamesduvalier.com/marie-laveau-legendary-voodoo-queen-stories/
https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/nicolas-cage-s-pyramid-tomb
https://muriels.com/about/ghost/
TRANSCRIPT
New Orleans
Intro
It’s 9pm on a Wednesday night in New Orleans, and I’m sitting in a bar, sipping a hard seltzer and watching a small fireplace crackle and pop. I’m here to see a man, but the bar is crowded and loud, and I don’t know if he’ll actually come out tonight. In the back corner of an area that looks like a cobbled addition to the place, a piano player sings Billy Joel and Elton John beneath strings of blue christmas lights, and some people sing along. And as I look around at the crowd of mostly tourists filling every available seat, I start to worry he’ll be a no show.
This man that I’m here to see isn’t one for crowds. Even though there’s portraits of him on the walls of this establishment, he’s hardly here. He’s also been dead for 200 years.
The bar I’m in is called Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar and it used to belong to a violent 18th century french pirate named Jean Lafitte, and his ghost is said to haunt the premise. its one of the oldest surviving buildings in New Orleans. The bar itself was built in the late 1700’s as a private residence, and hasn’t changed much since then. as I get up to walk over to the man playing Tiny Dancer on the piano, I can feel the uneven foundation under my feet, adding to the effect my one seltzer had on me. Even the fireplace in the center of the room is brick and looks ancient, and I wonder to myself if Jean Lafitte ever tended to it when he was using this place as a front for his illegal smuggling operations.
There’s a reason Lafitte is still talked about today in New Orleans. He was a legend even in his day. Once the Mayor of New Orleans put a bounty out on the pirate for $500. When Lafitte learned of that, he put a bounty out on the Mayor of New Orleans for $5000 to be paid to whoever brought him the Mayor alive. One time Andrew Jackson came to New Orleans to personally ask Lafitte to help him win the war of 1812 against the British, Lafitte agreed. Not necessarily to defend the nation he now called home, but probably to get something out of it for himself.
When the British made it to New Orleans in 1814, they were no match for the vengeful pirate who didn’t play fair and didn’t care to. His reward? A full presidential pardon for him and his men.
And though he hasn’t taken up residence here in the flesh in almost 200 years, people have reported seeing him here since it opened as a bar after the war of 1812. Sometimes, it’s been said, a man in 18th century garb goes and sits by the fire, making eye contact with someone in the bar for just a moment before dematerializing.
Bar tenders have mentioned seeing a pair of red, glowing eyes peeking through cracks in the basement walls, as if an angry visitor was lurking there, watching them.
And looking around, I couldn't help but think that perhaps if Lafitte were to apparate here in the middle of the night, he’d still feel at home. The wobbly floor, french cottage exterior, and fireplace looking just as they did 200 years ago. And even if he walked outside into the french quarter, he still might not be surprised. The city has mandated that the entire neighborhood remain almost identical to how it looked at the turn of the 19th century, gas lamps, cobblestones, french balconies and all. Now if he came at happy hour and saw the man belting Piano man under the twinkle lights, that’d be a different story.
This is a small piece of new orleans, but it holds a big piece of the city’s history. And that’s how a lot of New Orleans, especially the french quarter feels. Small pieces that hold stories both happy and incredibly dark, that add up to a much larger story.
So In todays episode, I want to walk you through New Orleans with me, exploring the darker side of those stories and the ghosts associated with them. A few of these stories touch on suicide, so as always, Listener discretion is advised.
Welcome back to another year of Heart Starts Pounding, a podcast of Horrors, Hauntings, and mysteries. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. I’m your host, Kaelyn Moore
This is a community for those with a dark curiosity, and here’s how I know we’re all cut from the same cloth. Last year I told you guys I visited the most requested haunted city for an episode, and I asked where you thought I went. I thought this was going to be a bit more of a mystery but basically everyone guessed New Orleans. And listen, I’m a woman of the people, if you want me to go to new orleans and collect some scary stories and dark history, I’m not going to say no.
But before I went, I dove into some of the lore of New Orleans, just to get a better idea of the spots I wanted to hit, and I found that almost every square inch of the city had some sort of ghost story attached to it, so I decided I was going to try my hardest to see a ghost while I was there, and I can’t wait to get into what my journey was like.
Today’s episode is going to bleed the line between research and folkloreIf. If you can’t tell, I love research, but as I talked to locals, I learned that a lot of the history of the city was passed down like folk songs, tales that have built the myth of New Orleans. It only felt right to honor the residents storytelling in todays episode.
If you’re listening to the ad supported version of todays episode, thank you so much. Our sponsors make this show possible, and I’ve been adding more to my stories to make sure our ads are placed far enough apart to not effect the flow of the story. But if that’s still too much, join us over on patreon for ad free listening. I seriously love my patrons. We chat about episodes, i’ve gotten some fantastic recommendations from them, and they enjoy ad free listening, a bonus episode a month, and some extra content. Last month I did an episode on hauntings in Galveston Texas, and I even snuck in a bonus episode on the Return to Nature Funeral home, a funeral home in Colorado that was NOT DOING WHAT THEY SAID THEY WERE DOING. It was truly horrifying.
Also, if you stick around until the very end of the episode today, I’m going to share some of my spooky city recommendations for if you ever visit the city. We're going to take a quick break, and when we get back, I want to jump straight into where I started my journey, in one of the city's most haunted cemeteries.
New Orleans was never meant to be a city, and the native americans who inhabited the land for thousands of years knew that. The land was swampy and uncomfortably hot for part of the year. Devastating weather wrecked shelters, and stagnant water acted as a breeding ground for yellow fever infected mosquitos, which would decimate human populations.
The native americans were privy to this information, and only used the land at the times of the year when it made the most sense. But all of that changed when the french came to town and founded New Orleans in 1718.
They had to fight nature to establish the city on the sinking swamp land. Yellow fever came in waves, killing large portions of the population, but when gravediggers dug down to bury the dead, they struck water. Anyone who was buried below ground in this below sea level city would slowly rise back to the surface.
I started my trip where many others ended theirs, in New Orleans’ first above ground cemetery, St. Louis Cemetery no.1, which is also the oldest operating cemetery in the city.
Now, listen, I love ghost stories but I approach everything with a healthy amount of skepticism. I don’t consider myself particularly sensitive to energy, an empath some would say, but I got an overwhelming feeling of dread the second I passed through the gate into the giant concrete enclosure of the cemetery. Like all of the energy was sucked out of me and someone dropped a weight on my chest. And i just want to mention that this feeling did not go away until I left New Orleans.
When you walk through the gate of the St Louis Cemetery no. 1, you notice it’s not like other cemeteries, where headstones lay in neat rows over a sprawling field. No, here, the tombs are above ground vaults, meaning the reminder of your mortality is looking at you face to face, sometimes even towering over you.
The layout is also a little chaotic. The cemetery is only about 1 block by 1 block, it’s a winding maze. The tour guide even told us to stick together because guests often get lost from their tours if they look too long at a tomb.
Plus you really don’t want to get lost here. Ghost sightings are so common that many know the resident specters by name.
Like a ghost named Jimmy who asks for guests to put flowers on his wife's grave.
Or a particularly rowdy ghost named Fagan who belts songs out loud and asks visitors for rides. His voice can be heard booming from the back of the cemetery. Apparently, he’s annoyed he can’t get a cab near the cemetery, and for good reason.
In the 1930’s a cab driver pulled up the gates of the cemetery in the dead of the night when he was flagged down by a young woman in a white dress. Without saying a word, she slipped into the back of the cab.
Where to? The driver asked
The woman instructed him to take her to a house in the Marigny, so off he drove.
Once they arrived, the woman asked the cab driver to approach the house and ask the man inside to come out and talk to her. The driver did as he was told, and when the man answered the door, the driver explained that he had a woman in his back seat that wanted to talk to him. The man stood in his doorway and rolled his eyes. This seemed to not be the first time this woman had made this request. He explained to the cab driver that the woman in his cab was his wife who died young and was buried in her wedding dress. She would occasionally hail cabs and show up at his door.
The driver didn’t believe him, but When he went back to his car, the woman was gone. He told other cab drivers in the area and it became common practice to avoid picking up anyone at the cemetery gates.
There’s also been sightings of a ghost named Henry Vignes. He was a sailor who bought himself a tomb inside of the cemetery before taking off on an extended voyage. Before he left, he asked his landlady to hold onto the deed to the tomb, but she assumed he would never return, so she sold it.
Eventually, however, Henry did return, but he had no money to repurchase a tomb, so when he finally passed away, he was interred in the massive tomb for the poor
Guests have reported seeing Henry wandering the grounds. Some have said he’s asked them where his tomb is, or even that he’s appeared at burials asking if there’s enough room in the vault of their loved one for himself.
The thing is, there is enough room in these vaults for Henry. When you first look at a vault, you would think that, with bodies being placed inside horizontally, about 6 people could probably fit inside. Three on each side stacked on top of each other, maybe each on their own individual shelfs. These bodies aren’t in caskets, just loaded in under a sheet. I ended up asking our tour guide how many people each vault might expect to hold. And how many bodies do you think he said go in each vault? Because it’s not 6. He said 100 fit, easily.
See, what happens when a person dies is that they get placed in the tomb, laying down, but the summers in new orleans get hot, and soon, the inside of the vault will get up to 150 degree fahrenheit, or 66 degrees celcius That causes the body to rapidly decompose, they basically cook, and by the time the next person in the family dies, which is typically some years later, the first loved one inside is mostly ash and some bone. They are then swept into a burlap sack and placed in the back of the tomb. This repeats for generations, until dozens of family members are in burlap sacks on top of each other in the back of the tomb. And then, over time the burlap sacks will disintegrate, leaving the family in one giant pile of remains.
I stood there thinking that it was oddly beautiful. To not be alone in a box under the earth, but instead in a messy heap with your loved ones for all of eternity. But then I start thinking of which family members I would conveniently forget to tell about the shared tomb as to not have to deal with them for infinity, and before I know it, the tour group is nowhere to be found and I’ve done the one thing they told me not to do.
I jog around a corner to catch up, and I see the group congregated around a white vault covered in groupings of hand drawn Xs. It’s kind of creepy, hundreds of quickly drawn X marks all over the vault. how they got there, I’m not sure. The cemetery is only open for tours, no one is allowed to just wander around unless you have a special pass because your loved one is inside. We weren’t even allowed to touch the vaults on my tour, let alone draw on them.
The Xs, I soon learn, most likely come from Voodoo practitioners who are drawing them to ask for blessings and assistance at this vault. Because The woman who is interred here, is known as The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, Marie Laveaux.
Marie was born in 1801 in New Orleans and grew up to be a hairdresser in town. She worked with everyone, mostly doing hair for the rich and powerful. But marie also worked with the poor, she was an incredibly empathetic person and loved giving back to her community. As a result, she knew everyone in town, and everyone knew her.
For a creole woman born to a slave, she grew to be what some called the most powerful figure in New Orleans society. People both feared and respected her, like a machiavellian prince. She made such an impact that the New York Times ran her obituary when she died in 1881. And since then, the myth of Marie Laveau has only grown to be larger than life, just like the python she was said to carry around her neck at all times.
Marie practiced a form of Voodoo that she blended with catholicism, maybe to make her practice more palatable to the Catholics in New Orleans. And it worked, everyone would visit Marie for various potions, spells, and amulets. People believed she could help them find love, curse their enemies, even win court cases. She had a supernatural power she had conjured over the years, and she appeared to be all knowing. It was said that marie would stop people in the street and be able to tell them things about themselves that no one else knew
The tour guide seemed really keen on the fact that Marie was a hairdresser, and therefore probably wasn’t an all knowing, Voodoo queen, but just knew the town gossip because of her work. She’d hear all of the best gossip in the city and could spit it back to people as a form of blackmail.
But there’s some things that marie is said to have done, that I don’t know, I’ve never seen my hair dresser do.
there was the time that a wealthy business man approached Marie in the 1930’s. His son had been accused of murdering a creole girl, and his father begged marie to use her powers to exonerate him of the crime. Marie agreed to, but only if he would sign over all of his land to her. the businessman agreed, and she got to work.
According to legend, marie went to the St. Louis cathedral with Zombie, her python, wrapped around her neck. She prayed at the altar as she held three spicy guinea peppers in her mouth. She asked that the pain she felt from the peppers be penance for the crime committed.
Then, she took those three guinea peppers and placed one under the judges seat, one under the jury, and one under the seat of the business man’s son. He was eventually acquitted of the crime, and the land was signed over to Marie
That wasn’t the only time Marie used voodoo to help the accused. Marie was staunchly opposed to the death penalty, and was incredibly empathetic to convicted criminals, especially those who came from impoverished backgrounds and weren’t given the tools to succeed. In the summer of 1854, a man was set to be hanged in the city square. Marie, at first, tried to use her worldly power, going around to city officials as well as judges, asking for the execution to be commuted to a life sentence. This did not work, which angered Marie.
On the day of the execution, she arrived in the city square with Zombie wrapped tightly around her neck. As she angrily glared at the executioner, dark clouds rolled in, covering the previously blue sky. Finally, when the lever was pulled, the man fell through the opened floorboards and the noose slipped off of his neck. He landed on the ground below him with a thud, confused, but alive.
This was considered to be an act of god, and therefore the execution could no longer be fulfilled. He was instead given life imprisonment, and not long afterwards, public executions were banned in New Orleans.
I stood at her tomb, wondering if any of the wishes other voodoo practitioners made with their three Xs ever came true. I had recently read a story from a woman who stood at this very tomb a few years before me on an oppressively hot and humid summer day. She was so moved by Marie’s story, she wanted to make an offering, so she took one of her husband's cigarettes and placed it neatly by the tomb, asking Marie for a safe ride home. She had heard that spirits like tobacco.
As she turned to leave, she looked down one of the long walkways of the cemetery lined with other lichen covered vaults, when she saw a shadow at the other end. Someone dressed in robes, hair wrapped in a scarf slowly walked behind a vault, and then vanished. It was far too hot that day to be as covered as the figure was. The woman felt like maybe that was marie, acknowledging that she heard the woman’s wish. She did make it home safely
I looked around to my left and right, and didn’t notice anyone in the cemetery except for our tour group. I didn’t have any coins or cigarettes on me to make a wish to Marie, and besides that, I didn’t know enough about Voodoo to want to mess with it. Plus with all of the wishes that have been asked of Marie, I figured she wouldn’t mind if I just let her rest.
Next Our group turned the corner and walked up to a giant, white pyramid tomb that stuck out like a sore thumb. None of the other vaults were pyramid shaped, and this one was not only spotlessly clean compared to the other faded and mossy tombs, but it had lipstick kiss marks on the front. You’ll never guess who owns this one, our tour guide remarked.
We’re going to take a quick break, and when we get back, I want to tell you about the actor, still living, who owns this tomb, and his strange tie to one of New Orleans’ darkest stories.
So I’m standing at the giant, white pyramid with my tour group when the tour guide asks us to guess who bought this cemetery plot. I had actually read about the man who bought it prior to the tour, but I didn’t say anything. I’m trying to not be a know it all, I just sometimes cant help myself when I know a fun fact. But someone else in the group had clearly read about them too.
Nicolas Cage, they cry out.
And they’re right. In 2010, Nicolas Cage purchased a half million dollar cemetery plot in the St. Louis Cemetery and had a white 9 foot tall pyramid with the words, Omnia Ab Uno written on the front which translates to everything from one.
Rumors started swirling as to why he made this macabre purchase. Some swear it’s because he has ties to the illuminati. Some say it was because he was facing bankruptcy and there’s a loophole that says the government can’t take your final resting place from you, so he sunk some money in the one place it couldn’t be taken. Others think it has something to do with a haunted house he lived in in New Orleans
In 2007, Cage bought the Lalaurie Mansion, a 200 year old home that once belonged to the notorious Delphine Lalaurie. Some say she was a serial killer. Others say she wasn’t doing anything that others weren’t secretly doing in New Orleans.
That night, after I had finished the cemetery tour, I took another ghost tour through the streets of the french quarter, and as I approached the three story Lalaurie mansion, nestled in between other apartments and shops in the city, my tour guide turned to us and with a big smile let us know that this was the spot on the tour that some people throw up at.
What do you mean? I asked
She explained that some people are more sensitive to spirits than others, and those that are sensitive have visceral reactions to this house. Nausea, dizziness, vomiting. I looked at the house, seeing if i got a feeling from it, but too be honest, I was still feeling the same drowsy and sad feeling I felt when I first walked into the st. Louis cemetery. The mansion completely dark except for one light that was on up on the third floor. No, Nicolas Cage was not inside. He only owned the home for short time around 2007 before it was said that the house drove him mad.
Madame Lalaurie, as she was known around town, constructed this house in 1831 with her third husband, Dr. Leonard Louis Nicolas. She came from a well off family and married a physician. Though it was only her, her husband and two of her children in the house, she insisted on having a large staff of slaves to tend to her family’s every need.
On April 10th, 1834, firemen were called to the Lalaurie mansion after a fire broke out in the kitchen. Smoke was billowing from the bottom floor near the street, so much so that it attracted a crowd of bystanders.
Firemen arrived to find an enslaved woman inside the Lalaurie’s kitchen, chained the the flaming stove. She was released and brought into the fresh air in front of the crowd, where she admitted that she set the kitchen on fire herself in an attempt to take her own life. She was afraid of being punished like the other slaves were.
What happened to the other slaves, someone asked.
They go upstairs, she said, and they never come back down.
The crowd gasped in horror, and the firefighters ran up to the top floor to see what was going on. Thats where they found the horror of Madame Lalaurie’s slave quarters.
Accounts of what they saw vary, but every single report states that it was gruesome. The Times Picayune ran an article in 1941 that referenced how papers at the time described what was found. Human beings chained up in small cubbyholes, starved. People actively dying from lack of care. But The New Orleans Bee from 1834 described a much more grisly scene. “seven slaves, more or less horribly mutilated ... suspended by the neck, with their limbs apparently stretched and torn from one extremity to the other", who claimed to have been imprisoned there for some months”
Some thought that Madame LaLaurie had been practicing surgery on these people. And this cruelty had been going on for some time. Neighbors recounted the time they watched her chase a 12 year old girl around the balcony of the house, only for the girl to fall off the side of the balcony to her death. She was buried in the back yard
But as the neighbors are watching in horror as starved and abused people are being helped out of the LaLaurie house, even starting a mob, Madame LaLaurie and her husband had an escape plan. They took their coach to lake Pontchartrain where they loaded onto a boat and headed straight to france.
The house went on to change hands over the years, but no resident held onto it for very long. Nicolas Cage eventually lost the house to foreclosure, but some say the curse of the house is what caused him to lose his fortune. Others say that he bought his tomb after he visited a voodoo queen for help with the homes haunting. Purchasing a grave was part of the ritual to clear the house, something about tricking the spirit into thinking you’re dead.
Today, it’s owned by a Texas billionaire who only comes to town twice a year, once for Mardi Gras and halloween. All other times the house is completely empty, save for one light that stays on on the third floor, the one I was looking at.
What became of Madame LaLaurie, no one knows. Many believe she’s buried in France. But the Times Picayune article from 1941 says something else.
They reported that in the late 1930’s, Eugene Backs, a 53 year old man who helped upkeep the St. Louis Cemetery no. 1 found an epitaph plate for Madame LaLaurie in the cemetery. It read that she had died in Paris on December 7th, 1842, and yet, there it was in the St. Louis cemetery. This suggested that she had her body shipped back to New Orleans to be buried in the place she had called home for most of her life.
So if that’s the case, and Nicolas Cage really did buy his tomb in order to escape the ghost of the former owner of his home, he might be upset to know that she’s possibly buried right beside him.
The tour I was on was heading to it’s final stop, and my trip to new Orleans was almost done. I couldn’t help but notice that I still hadn’t really seen a ghost. Jean Lafitte didn’t show himself at his blacksmith shop turned piano bar, and though I still had a lingering bad feeling from the St. Louis Cemetery, I didn’t notice anything particularly supernatural happening there.
I noticed we were walking up to the place that I had just had dinner that night, a two story, french inspired building that held a restaurant called Muriels. I had heard that Muriels had a seance room, but I hadn’t looked into it much. I just kind of figured it was a touristy thing for bachelorette parties to do, dine with a ghost in the seance room. But I hadn’t read about the history.
The food was actually very good, though. I had salmon over stewed black eyed peas, and my husband had shrimp and grits. At one point I remembered bending down to get a dairy pill so I could try some of the grits, when I felt a glass on the table move. I shot up quickly, and caught it right as it was settling back into place. It wasn’t like it was tipped over, but more like it had lurched an inch or so. I looked at my husband to be like, careful, you almost knocked a glass into my food, but he had put his knife and fork down and was looking around at the walls of the restaurant. The old, painted murals and still lifes hanging on the walls, the dripping chandeliers. He wasn’t really in a position where he could have hit my glass.
It felt so insignificant, but for some reason I was reminded of it when we approached the restaurant. Our tour guide turned to us and smiled.
“People sometimes feel really nauseous at this stop” Damn, This woman really loves when people get ill on her tours.
She went on to tell us that this restaurant used to be a house at the turn of the 19th century, one owned by a man named Pierre Jourdan.
I looked at the restaurant and could picture it as a house. It had a beautiful wrap around balcony on the second floor and french style bay windows. The first floor was all dining room and kitchen now, but I could see where a living room would be in the room we ate dinner in. The house was nestled on a busy corner of other restaurants, bars and hotels. It must have been prime real estate, even back then.
Mr. Jourdan used to throw the best parties at this house. The Who’s who of new orleans society would come over and party until the early hours of the morning. But there was a darkness to these parties. Because Mr. Jourdan was a gambling man. And what started as small bets for fun and the thrill, soon snowballed into large debts.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the desperation because he had already lost so much. But in 1814, Mr. Jourdan wagered his house in a game of poker and lost.
This was the greatest embarrassment of his life, and before he had to vacate the house, he took his own life on the second floor.
Now, the second floor contains a seance room where, yes, bachelorette parties can rent out, so maybe it is a little bit of a gimmick. But our tour guide had us come over to a locked door just off the street that lead to a dark hallway. Tables and chairs were stacked on the sides, it was clear this part of the restaurant was not visited by guests, We peered in through the old, warped glass of the door, and At the end of the hallway was a red velvet rope placed in front of an open door. It lead to a room with one light on and a set table.
That’s the table that the restaurant keeps for Mr. Jourdan. Legend says that when Muriel’s first opened, staff noticed that plates would shatter and glasses would be thrown around the room by some invisible force. Eventually someone looked into the history of the property and learned about Mr. Jourdan and his parties. They joked that maybe he was sad to be missing out, sad that someone was using his house for festivities he wasn’t invited to. So they set him a table in the back and made sure a glass of wine was always poured for him, and the glass breaking stopped.
But he still loves to move wine glasses, our tour guide quipped. I thought of my wine glass and how it had lurched earlier, and I turned to my husband, did you hit my wine glass while we were at dinner? He squinted his eyes like he was thinking really hard, I could tell he probably wouldnt’ have remembered even if he had, it was such a small moment, but it was a nice gesture for him to try.
Our tour guide showed us some photos that visitors had taken of the mr jourdans table ones where it looked like a figure was sitting at the table. And I will say, it was kind of freaky. She had multiple photos where there was a big smudge by the table I looked up some photos online, and I’ll link one that really looks like a man in a suit jacket standing over the table, looking down at his wine glass. I snapped a few photos, but unfortunately, did not see anything.
I had to leave new orleans the next day, but maybe I had accomplished my goal. Maybe the ghost of Mr. Jourdan really had shoved my empty wine glass, probably in anger that I wasn’t drinking, honestly, that guy sounded like a party animal
Honestly, though, that could have been anything, maybe i hit the table cloth, maybe my husband hit it with his elbow and just didn’t notice
BUT I maybe did see something else, and this is something I actually didn’t notice until I was prepping this episode.
I was recently going through the photos I took of Mr. Jourdan’s table, trying to see if I could find anything in the photos I missed. Any smudges or apparitions that maybe I glossed over. And while I was looking at one of the photos, I held my thumb to it and realized it was a live photo. So the three second loop started playing.
I don’t know if you all believe in orbs or not, I’m honestly still skeptical, but the photo looks like a normal photo with nothing in it, until the video starts playing, and a green orb appears at mr. Jourdans chair. It hangs out there and then hovers around the wine, before taking off to the left. It’s gone by the next photo.
I’m going to link it to the site and post it on instagram but I think it’s worth looking at. Maybe the ghost of Mr. Jourdan really was there that night, sitting at his table, glad to have been included.
Ok, we’re going to take a quick break and when we get back, I’m going to give you some of my recommendations for the city. Both spooky and not,
Alright, so first and foremost I did the st. louis cemetery official tour, you cannot enter the cemetery on your own, you have to take a tour. This one was like $25 and I thought was really worth it. The history and storytelling is great, and the guide was knowledgeable when i asked him like 100 questions.
Then for the ghost tour, I did a ghost city tour, specifically the ghosts of New Orleans tour, and they covered so many amazing things I didn’t even get to cover, like the most haunted alleyway in New Orleans next to the St. Louis Cathedral, and the Ursaline Nun convent where the Casket girls were sent. They were maybe Vampires
Ghost city tours also have other tours you can do, like the killers and thrillers one which is more true crime focused.
For haunted Bars, I went to Lafitte's Blacksmith shop, but I also went to the Absinthe house, which is also pretty unchained from it’s original set up and is said to be haunted. That’s where Lafitte met with Andrew Jackson and agreed to help America in the war of 1812. I recommend getting an absinthe frappe, a drink that was invented there in the late 1800s. It’s absinthe, soda water and sugar, and it’s delicious if you can stand the taste of absinthe. I love absinthe, the myth of it, it’s antiquity. Fun fact, it does not make you hallucinate if you’re worried about that. That was a myth the wine industry in france made up to get people to STOP drinking absinthe and START drinking wine. So enjoy.
Restaurants, we did Muriels. If you go with a group, try to book the seance room, it looks so fun. I think you have to book quite a bit in advance though. We also loved the restaurant Jewel of the south which is really close to the st. louis cemetery 1.
I did not have a chance to go, but almost everyone, tourists and locals alike, told me to go see the World War 2 museum. I’ve heard it can take hours and I didn’t have time to go, but if you have any interest in world war 2, or honestly even if you don’t, this might be your place.
I also recommend Century girl vintage for a reallllyyyy cool supply of vintage clothing and jewelry. They had original flapper dresses and some really cool vintage designer pieces. It’s cool to check out even if you don’t buy anything. They also repurpose old buttons into jewelry.
And then of course, we ate beignets nearly every day at Cafe Du Monde and Cafe Beignets. Cafe du monde only takes cash so watch out.
Ok this has been another episode of heart starts pouding, written and produced by me, Kaelyn Moore. Sound design and mix by peach tree sound. Special thanks to Travis, Greyson, WME and ben jaffe.
Special shout out to all the new patrons, I hope you liked the bonus December content last month. I will be thanking you all by name in the monthly newsletter, you can sign up for that on the site. Ok, until next time, Stay Curious.