Upon glancing though a novel called Fatal Demand where the crime scene took place amongst the crypts of New Orleans and not long after at a lunch with others, the topic came up again. Two of the guys had interesting but disturbing tours of these same crypts. As each described their mind-boggling experience, breathlessly talking over one another, their faces contorted into shock and their eyes lowered in horror by reliving the “Cities of the dead”. It was just too much to bear!
Because the water level in New Orleans is so dangerously high, deceased bodies simply can’t be buried in the ground. If they were it would make New Orleans look like the final scene in Poltergeist. But only in this unique city could cemeteries be such a major tourist attraction.
Enter the cemetery gates and be greeted by rusty decorative ironwork and blinded by sun-bleached tombs. Crosses and statues jutting from tomb surfaces cast contrasting shadows, adding to the sense of mystery. They have come to resemble small villages. The cemetery paths, twisted with dead ends, add to an eerie atmosphere. Pirates, politicians and voodoo queens are buried in these cities.
The crypt functions like a ghastly pizza oven. A dead body is placed on a ledge inside the crypt. After one year and one day the body decomposes and the skeleton is pushed to the back and drops down into a pile of family bones. Now it’s time for the next burial. If a family needs to bury more than one body they must rent a temporary crypt to cook their skeleton.
One of the most famous residents of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 is Marie Laveau, her tomb the most frequently visited. Similar to others in the cluttered cemetery, except for things left behind in an offering for the blessings of the Voodoo Queen. Legend has it that Marie’s ghost sometimes walks here. One man claims to have been slapped sharply by her spirit for a disparaging remark. Another, who spent the night in the cemetery, was awakened by a strange sound and decided to leave abruptly after he saw a terrible sight. In front of Marie Laveau’s tomb was a glowing nude woman with her body entwined by a serpent. Surrounding her were the ghostly forms of men and women dancing in mad but silent abandonment. Some believe that she materializes to lead the voodoo faithful in worship.
Nicolas Cage, known for his eccentric behaviour plans to continue this legacy into death as well, thanks to the odd pyramid mausoleum he purchased in this same famous graveyard. His nine-foot-tall stone pyramid is in obvious contrast to the above-ground crumbling burial sites. Though some feel Cage is detracting from the historic importance of the cemetery, his grave is already a part of its mythology – a tradition has arisen of leaving lipstick kisses behind on the nameless tomb.
Another account of the cemetery is the story of the ‘Nail in the Tomb’. Three young men spent a night drinking in the French Quarter and talk turned to death, voodoo and Marie Laveau. One of the men was enticed into a wager to climb the cemetery wall and drive a spike into the wall of Marie’s resting place. He accepted and a short time later entered the cemetery. His friends waited for him for hours. Dawn came and with it, the opening of the gates. The worried men found their friend… lying dead on the ground! Apparently in his drunken state, he had hammered the spike through his coat and into the stone wall of the crypt. Upon leaving, an unseen force held him in place. In his sheer panic, he died of fright.
It was here too, where Josie Arlington operated her house of ill repute, known as the finest of bordellos and stocked with beautiful women, fine liquor and exotic drugs. The women dressed in expensive French lingerie entertained the cream of New Orleans society. Many of the men who came were politicians, judges, lawyers and even city officials. Even companionship with some of the most influential men in the city, she was still denied the one thing she desperately wanted… social acceptance. Shunned by the city and publicly ignored by the men she knew so well; her money and charm meant nothing. But what Josie could not have in life, she would have in death. She got her revenge on the society snobs by arranging to be buried in the most fashionable cemetery in New Orleans, the Metairie Cemetery. Although costing her a small fortune, the scandal it created was well worth it in her eyes. Tongues wagged all over the city and people, mostly women, complained that Josie shouldn’t be buried in Metairie.
After our lunch ended, the guys who saw these disturbing cemeteries first hand said, “Never again”. If I do visit New Orleans, I’ll bypass its “Cities of the Dead” and focus on the Mardi Gras and the numerous museums.
