The Bellemont, Part the Last

Most accomplishments in my adult life first appeared as items on to-do lists written on scrap paper. An abandoned motor lodge over 1,000 miles from my Brooklyn apartment called The Bellemont first made it back onto one of those to-do lists on March 30 when a commenter on this blog wrote that it was the lodging for Bette Davis and Joan Crawford while shooting the film "Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte" at Houmas House on River Road. (Joan did not last long on the film set-- it's too much to get into here, but there was no love lost between the actresses. Here's a quote on imdb.com attributed to Bette about Joan: "For a goddamn week in Baton Rouge, she brought twenty pieces of luggage. It was a black-and-white movie but she had color-coordinated outfits for the daytime scenes, and for the night shots all of her evening dresses were chiffon, which meant that the wardrobe lady had to spend hours ironing them in the one-hundred-degree weather." )

It wasn't just those two superstars who stayed at the Bellemont (allegedly): it was Clark Gable, John Wayne, Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, and later Jackie Gleason and Richard Pryor when filming "The Toy", as well as Sonny and Cher, presumably when they were employed full-time by America as wearers of horribly awesome polyester pantsuits.

And all of this is just what I gleaned from digital hearsay in my blog comments. There is much history at The Bellemont. There are people who remember it and stories to be told. There is at least an article to be written here, and I'd love to write that article. I wished I had the time. While I am grateful to be an employed writer, after a minimum two-hour round trip of commuting each day, I return home drained of the energy for such extracurriculars.

 

 Only about two weeks ago, when I heard they were tearing down The Bellemont, I knew I had to go down and see it all before it was too late, and I pitched the article. Before, I'd only seen it from the outside looking in--this time I would get inside and I would really explore it. Fortunately, Memorial Day weekend was coming up. And fortunately, my flight attendant friend had buddy passes so I could travel on short notice. And fortunately in this case, things do not move fast in Baton Rouge, including demolitions.

Here is just some of what I saw at The Bellemont on one day during its final weeks of existence.

 

 

Abandoned Baton Rouge's 3rd Birthday Giveaway

UPDATE: Congratulations go out to our winner Amber King of Baton Rouge, Louisiana! She chose the lovely Dahlia chair as her prize, in green as a fine accent for her 1950s home. (She's a woman after my own heart.) Thanks to everyone who entered, and in doing so gave me feedback about my Etsy shop.

P.S. Buy stuff from my shoppe.

Hoorah! Little ABR is 3 years old and one of you lucky readers will get the present, thanks to the fine folks at CSNstores.com, a site of 200+ stores that sell everything including the proverbial kitchen sink, as well as kitchen tables, appliances, and cookware. (Having just spent a significant chunk of time in CSN's stores picking prizes, I can testify that it's easy to get sucked in.)

The winner gets to choose one item from the prizes below.

1. In honor of all the lonely chairs I've spotted around Baton Rouge, I present a lovely chair for the ladies and delicate gents: The LumiSource Dahlia Chair, also available in black, lime, and white.

 

(Big dudes will want to avoid this chair.)

Alex Box Stadium

Behold, the remains of the original Alex Box baseball stadium, which was built in 1938 as a WPA project. (Click here for a series of recent "before" shots.)

Huey P. Long Fieldhouse Pool

 

 

The Huey P. Long Fieldhouse was completed on the LSU campus in 1932. Hearsay says that Huey Long intended it to be the biggest pool around, longer than any run-of-the-mill Olympic-sized pool. It was designed by Weiss, Dreyfus and Seiferth, the same firm that designed the new state capitol.

UPDATE: This originally said "old state capitol" and a few commenters pointed out that I had my information wrong. Please forgive this damned Yankee.

Until the 1970s, it was required that every LSU student take a swim class, but by then the pool was already in decline. It has been closed since approximately 1999 and has been silently crumbling ever since, relatively unnoticed amidst the thriving campus.

In early June, I was allowed access to the condemned structure housing the pool *with police escort.* Gotta say, I love having a police escort. They can escort my scared ass any time around abandoned buildings.

Scenic Highway

If you find abandoned buildings, vehicles, and discarded furniture scenic, then Scenic Highway lives up to its name.

Co-explorer Kara and I arrived in this unfamiliar part of town on bicycle with her dog, Miss Lola Mae, trotting alongside for protection. 

As Kara, another newcomer by way of North Carolina, observed, it looks almost Caribbean here sometimes. I've never been, but knew what she meant.

The money shot of the day was found just past the corrugated-metal building on the left, and is found here after the jump. 

The land of Cotton's...and more

This is the former factory for Cotton's Holsum Breads, a brand which still exists. I've heard the aroma of delicious baking bread used to permeate the surrounding area.

Beauty School Dropout

D-Jay's School of Beauty is one of the few businesses featured here on ABR that still exists elsewhere, such as Mitiello's, Shell, and Winn-Dixie. They even have a website on the Internets. However, the beauty school dropped out of this particular Government Street Location.

Judging by this sign, their move must have happened around the time of laser discs.

(To the sellers/leasers: Here's a tip I learned from HGTV existing: this property might move faster if you clear out the burned-up garbage from the front area. Just a thought.)

Pace's hair Styling: the patriotic salon that time never forgot

This low-profile, enigmatic hair salon had escaped my notice on my first sweep through this stretch of Government.

I like how uncertain the lettering looks. It reflects my experience at the place. What is its deal?! I grew even more confused after looking inside.

Militello's Shoe Repair

I moved to Baton Rouge less than two weeks ago and noticed a number of intriguing abandoned buildings. There are Deco, midcentury, and timeless (aka, I don't know what style to label them) creepy buildings in varying states of decay, all begging for documentation. My first subject is the '60s/'70s wonder Militello's Shoe Repair, located on Government Street near the intersection of Acadian, resplendant in wood paneling. (Click photos to enlarge)

Don't miss the lone shoe...I would totally wear those if there were two. I also want the chairs.