They Called Us River Rats is the previously untold story of perhaps the oldest outsider settlement in America, an invisible community on the annually-flooded shore of the river. We exist in the place between the normal high and low water line of the Mississippi River, known in Louisiana as the batture. For the better part of two centuries, batture-dwellers like me have raised shanty-boats on stilts, built water-adapted homes, foraged, fished, and survived using the skills a river environment teaches. Over the years, batture-dwellers have been reviled, jailed or lynched by citizens on the other side of the levee. Even today, beaches erode under houses. When the river rises, barges and river-borne debris can slam into homes.
Accounts of crime, disaster and romance on the riverside appear in newspapers and archives, but until now the stories of a batture way of life have existed only in the memories of those who have lived here. Beginning in 2000, I set about recording the stories of all the old batture dwellers I could find: maritime workers, willow furniture makers, fishermen, artists and river shrimpers. I’m still uncovering stories in libraries and archives of fortune-tellers, faith healers, and wild bird trappers who lived on the river.
Now I am among the senior generation of “River Rats” living in a vestigial colony of 12 “camps” on New Orleans’ river batture, a fragment of a settlement that once stretched nearly six miles along the riverfront and numbered hundreds of homes. It is the last riparian settlement on the Lower Mississippi, an echo of life outside urban zoning, planning and flood protection.
Feel free to contact me here or email MaconFry@gmail.com.
Support for this project has been provided by the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities.
