Bourbon Street, 1953

A Young Jazz Fan in the French Quarter Ask anyone what street comes to mind when they think of Dixieland jazz and the response, usually, would be Bourbon Street. I made it my residence for several weeks 65 years ago. Upon my graduation from high school in Buchanan, Michigan, I’d saved up some money from a part-time job to go there. My folks were going as far as Ft. Knox, where my brother Clarence was stationed so I hitched a ride there with them. An overnight ride from Louisville brought me to New Orleans where a New Orleans jazz deejay, originally from Niles, Michigan, had agreed to put me up for the night. I was finally chasing my dream. New Orleans’ French Quarter held a special magic for me. As an avid trad jazz fan, especially the early jazz of New Orleans, I wanted to study it up close and try to improve my playing it. I was young, a bit foolish and thrilled to finally be there. Part of my infatuation with New Orleans jazz existed because I had listened to live jazz from the Crescent City on several Sunday evenings throughout my senior year in Buchanan. Also, Ms. Weaver’s BHS Spanish class had spent several days in June of 1952 traveling to the Mexico City region and New Orleans was one of the overnight stops on the way back home. (Yes, I helped plan the itinerary.) A few of us headed straight for Bourbon Street to hear some great jazz. Now that I had made it, I cou