I had seen him crossing Lady of the Lake Road. I heed and hawed about approaching him. I'd approached a number of people and was, frankly, getting tired of the "stare".
Nevertheless, I'd give it one more try. I rode the bike up his driveway, killing the motor while still moving. I find that a good entrance overture. I asked him, hesitantly, "Do you know anything about an old railroad that ran from Cade to St.Martinville". I again, was either over zealous or figured that he was a dead end and why bother with all the formal introductions. That was a mistake and I probably paid for my lack of manners.
He replied, "It didn't go to Cade".
Silence.
You know the reaction that you have when you've finally found something you've lost for a while? Yea, that one. I responded, "I figured that", trying to contain myself, knowing I'd hit pay dirt. I continued, "So, it met the main line south of Cade"?
He nodded. More silence. He was trying to figure me out. Forgetting to state my business had created suspicion. This was not going well and I couldn't figure out why. I've been told that I have a charismatic personality, was it not working? I asked him where the rails had run.
He said, "There", pointing to the road I had just left.
"So, the road was the railroad"?
"That's right".
Silence.
"Do you know how it went into St.Martinville"?
"No, but they found a bunch of pilings down there".
"Oh".
I hadn't picked up on the importance of the pilings and I think he sensed it.
He finally got around to asking me, "May I ask why your are interested in all this".
I made some self demeaning comment about my mental health as a hunter of old rail routes and that this stretch was the last in my hunt for the Cade to Port Barre branch. He seemed to find some humor in that. For some reason his containment gates opened a bit. He went on to tell me that this, waving his hand toward the south, use to be all water. He emphasized that there was water everywhere "down there". He further told me that his mother, when she was trying to get her property deed straight, had to get the former railroad property reverted to her name. His concerns might have been linked to that, who knows.
I replied, "So Spanish Lake reached up this far"?
He smiled, I guess in the realization that I was familiar with the neighborhood and was probably local or near local since I knew the lake's name. I now realize I never did identify myself. He continued talking more about the pilings, I guess in hopes that I'd catch on. He said, "They found them while they were building the road. The pilings started where the road goes down (in elevation) toward St.Martinville".
A light went on. "Oh, there was a trestle across the shallows of Spanish Lake".
He nodded, giving me that "you finally got it" look, smiling like a teacher that had reached a resistant student.
I beamed, thanking him profusely for his time and effort. We parted cheerfully, each with a sense of accomplishment.
So, you think this history hunting thing is easy, do you? Show up at someone's house and start asking off the wall questions.
Now, for more than you've ever want to know about the Cade to St.Martinville Branch of the Southern Pacific Railroad. It must have been an awing ride. Cade sits atop the Coteau Ridge which is basically the west boundary of the Mississippi's historical meanderings. The Coteau is a dizzying 15 to 20 foot escarpment or bluff at Cade. The train would have to get up and down that treacherous ridge. Figuring how that was done has occupied a lot of time and thought. Further, I have seen that question repeated in our local newspaper. Being aware of that interest, I can only surmise that this article might be an epiphany for the community at large, not just those intently interested in ancient railroad history, numbering six.
Featured on the map above (Click it to enlarge) is a red line. That is what I guess, with some credence, is the route the train took. It had to travel south from Cade to the branch switch which turned it down what is now Lady of the Lake Road. You can see "33" written on the route. That is the approximate elevation of the Coteau Ridge. From that point the train had to descend to about 16 feet at Delacroix, not only getting down, but crossing over the shallows of Spanish Lake and Bayou Tortue. The trestle had to be built as a very gentle decline, coming from the west. That part of the ride must have been quite scenic, the train being suspended above the water with the escarpment to the west and north and the swamp, bayou, and eventual farm lands to the east.
This will be your first look at the 1926 schedule. Notice that Delacroix is a stop on it. Delacroix is where the USL Farm is today, or UL Farm as it is called, lately.
The 1935 schedule does not mention Delacroix.
In the interim, there was the flood of 1927. Could Delacroix been washed away? Very possibly. It is shown as being south of the rails/road. If it had been located on high ground where the UL farm is today, then it might have survived. That is all speculation.
But, I'm getting ahead of the story.
Let's start in the sleepy little village of Cade which sits on what was US 90 before the slab, which is new US 90, was built to the west. It is at the intersection of La.92 and La.182 (aka Old 90).
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Again, I'm diverging from the story. While looking for the depot location in Cade, I found a spur or possibly another branch.
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There may have been a wye connection.
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If you look in the upper left corner, you'll see a young man coming down the road. He started yelling at me that I was on private property, which I wasn't. Long story short, he apologized after I told him I was with the newspaper and asked him how to spell his name. He said that yes indeed there had been a branch here and it had gone right in front of his house and continued out into the field toward the Episcopal school.
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At the school I could trace it no further. It could have joined La.92 headed toward Youngsville or other points west.
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From there I went to the local Stop and Run. I asked a young woman at the checkout if she knew anything about an old railroad that went from Cade to St.Martinville. She said that she was too young and for me to ask "that old woman" in the back corner. The scorned older woman snorted twice, a sign of an impending charge, and I left, knowing I was in the wrong arena.
I'd had it with Cade. I punted and went home. I would return to the area the next day.
The ride down the SP from Old US 90/La.182 to St.Martinville is next.
CLICK HERE TO GO THERE