Thursday, April 7, 2011

La ruelle du pre Antoine

photo

La ruelle du pre Antoine

Lgende…

« Many people report having seen Pere Antoine walking slowly down the small alley named for him alongside his St. Louis Cathedral. He is mostly drawn to the early mornings when the French Quarter is quieter, but has also been discovered disappearing into the mist of a winter afternoon. In these sightings, he usually doesn't appear to notice anyone because he is almost always reading his breviary, or book of prayers. People who have seen him like this experience a feeling of comfort, no matter what they have been doing the night before! Sometimes though, he's a little more active. One woman we know was taking a short cut through the alley on a rainy afternoon, on her way to lunch. Tottering on high heels, she tripped straight into the arms of a black-robed man with a sharp nose and a stern expression. After righting herself with the aid of her rescuer, she brushed off her skirt and looked up to see--nobody. The helping hand was invisible, but she heard a disembodied voice whisper a short phrase in French. It scared us, but our friend was unruffled, and even though she doesn't know what the good father said, she reported experiencing a sense of peace. »
goneworleans.about.com/od/famouslandmarks/a/hauntedno.htm

Au sujet du parc sur la droite, qui se trouve derrire la Cathdrale Saint-Louis :
« The large garden behind the 215 year old church is surrounded by an old iron fence, scarred and pitted by the elements. What stories could this fence tell? Stories of love and honor, of the duels fought on the grounds it protects, stories of betrayal and murder as well, of plans and plots by patriots and treasonous cowards as well.
There are spirits here! Souls from long ago who lived and died in these streets with such passion that they refuse to hide in the dusty ruins of the past. As you push ahead to the end of the fence the air is heavy with a scent of the damp vegetation and your skin is wet. You breath deeply, swallowing that thick hot air as if you are drowning, and you begin to melt into the city itself, the Vieux Carr, the heart of New Orleans. »
www.piratesalleycafe.com/thehistoryofouralley.html

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