By Bev Jackson, History is …

I don’t know if it was a crazy thing to do, but my trip to New Orleans the week before Christmas was a time for growth and fun all rolled into one. The original purpose was to see an incredible exhibit at the New Orleans Museum of Art. It’s a traveling exhibit from the Cairo Museum, and because of its size and scope, there are very few museums in the country that can host it. Seeing this exhibit was another of those “once in a lifetime” opportunities, that I love to say “yes” to.

Where else could I see a sarcophagus, weighing tons, thousands of years old, that comes from a tomb where the life story of the occupant is carved into the walls. The whole idea boggles the mind. One of the museum exhibits was a replica of one room in a tomb, and as we moved from left to right and listened to our headphones, we learned the story of the journey taken by the soul from night into morning, always with its awakening as the sun rises. Where else but such an exhibit could I learn of the beliefs of a people who lived more than two thousand years before Christ?

The trip to New Orleans became an education about how history shapes a community.

A narrated riverboat ride on the Mississippi introduced me to the miles and miles of commerce that happens along the river. The loading docks, the foreign ships, the oil refineries that process crude oil, the hotels, the levees that protect the city, the gradual transition and rebuilding to tourist riverwalk park areas all helped to adjust my thoughts on how a city changes and grows if it is to stay alive.

The history of New Orleans is a blending of Choctau Indian history, the Spanish and French influence, the 1803 Louisiana Purchase, the War of 1812, the Confederacy, river commerce, and jazz. With the mix of cultures and styles, you feel like you are in an English speaking foreign country, yet with directional signs in four different languages, you might wonder which country you are in.

The exhibits in the D-Day Museum brought tears to my eyes as I read personal accounts written by the men who survived Omaha Beach, and I marveled at the strength of the humble soldiers whose pictures I saw at the Confederacy Museum&045;men willing to risk their lives or their health for a cause they desperately believed in.

Near the center of New Orleans is a 1,500 acre area called City Park. The New Orleans Museum of Art is there with its incredible sculpture garden, and there are three golf courses, small ponds, and winding roads and paths for walking or driving through when the park is lighted with Christmas decorations. It is a credit to the city that had the foresight to set aside this beautiful area for the enjoyment of its citizens and guests.

And the food was delicious! With grits for breakfast, a beignet for coffee break, jambalaya for lunch, and stuffed lobster for dinner, I never even missed “normal” food.

It was interesting for me to have conversations with people who think they have placed all of these historical life experiences somewhere in the distant past. People who don’t visit the museums and take for granted the incredible architecture that surrounds them. The wrought iron balconies overhanging narrow cobblestone streets, the wooden shutters that really close to cover and protect windows and doors, stairways and porches leading to the front doors of homes built with the entries one story above the street level, statues of Robert E. Lee and Andrew Jackson, Cajun music, mule drawn coaches, and the artists around Jackson Square were all reminding me of the incredible stories this city can tell.

It was interesting to realize that the city’s fame is its history connecting to its traditions. For years Albert Lea has wondered about a theme. What do we have that is special? What could we do to make people want to visit us or to move into the community?

I am convinced more than ever, that what we do best is to be who we are. Our natural assets and historic downtown are more than enough. We need to believe that we are unique, and to share our story.

Cairo, Egypt did it. New Orleans, Louisiana did it. Albert Lea can do it, too.

(Bev Jackson is with the Freeborn County Historical Museum.)