The Bus/RV entrance to Six Flags New Orleans. The barbed-wire fence was added after the storm. June, 2008.

Interstate 10 curves up and out of New Orleans, looping out of the Big Easy and chasing the Gulf Coast towards points east. About thirty minutes outside the city, just after the I-510 interchange, a set of faded blue structures rises on the southern horizon. These are the derelict roller coasters of Six Flags New Orleans, which closed in advance of Hurricane Katrina and has yet to reopen.

The park was not so much shut down as abandoned—sacrificed, almost, to the encroaching storm. Merchandise stayed on shelves, electronics remained in place, and the logs in the flume ride were left stuck halfway up their plastic hills. The sole preparation for Katrina seems to be a message on the park’s signboard, still visible more than three years later: CLOSED FOR STORM.

The empty and overgrown parking lot for Six Flags New Orleans, with roller coasters on the horizon.

The property opened as Jazzland in 2000. Rides such as the Bayou Blaster and The Big Easy Ferris Wheel were sprinkled through lands with similarly local-sounding names, including ‘Cajun Country’ and the ‘French Quarter.’ After low visitor numbers forced Jazzland into bankruptcy, Six Flags purchased the park in 2002. The park was rebranded as Six Flags New Orleans and expanded, but the expansion did little to improve the park’s profitability. Since Hurricane Katrina, the park has been derelict, with Six Flags claiming that insurance disputes are holding up the re-opening of the park.

The park as it appeared immediately after Hurricane Katrina. Photos from the online forums of Theme Park Review.

Six Flags New Orleans was flooded by Hurricane Katrina. After the storm, the park sat in water that was between four and six feet deep for several weeks. After the waters had receded, the parking lots were used as a staging area for FEMA trailer distribution. The trailers are still visible in the Google Maps satellite view of the park.

The Gator Bait Air Boat ride.

Since the storm, Six Flags has removed some ride equipment from the park, refurbishing it and deploying it to other Six Flags properties. “Batman: The Ride” has been rebuilt as “Gotham” at Six Flags Fiesta Texas. Awnings, light posts, security cameras, and other salvageable equipment has also been sent to other Six Flags properties, an invisible diaspora of amusement park ephemera.

The park’s Main Street Square, just inside the main entrance.

More interesting than what Six Flags has taken from the park is what they have left behind. The level of preservation is incredible. Parts of the park look as if they were abandoned only hours earlier. Stores, restaurants, rides were all still standing and unlocked when I visited this past summer.

An abandoned restaurant in Cajun Country.

In part, the park owes this level of preservation to its location in a desolate stretch of suburban New Orleans East, about half an hour outside of New Orleans proper. There was some graffiti and some vandalism—coin-operated lockers, vending machines, and cash registers had all been forced open—but overall, there was very little sign of human presence or activity, especially recent activity.

In a merchandise kiosk, Tweety Birds and Scooby-Doos await purchase by children who will never arrive.

Even three years later, Katrina remains the strongest presence in the park. The remaining merchandise approximates how high the waters rose: Everything still on shelves was above the waterline. The surrounding bayou has started to reclaim the park, and plants are encroaching on walkways and threading themselves through rides. This part of New Orleans is sinking, at up to 2 inches per year. In 10 years, Six Flags New Orleans may again be underwater.

I spent about an hour inside the park and covered most of the south side. What I found most interesting is how the park is historically flat: Most places, especially in New Orleans, have layers upon layers of history, capturing decades of construction, demolition, change, and reuse, each layer with its own story.

Six Flags has none of those layers: The park is so young—barely 10 years old, and derelict for the last three—that it has very little history. There was nothing before Jazzland but swamps; the park came from the swamps and to the swamps it will return. The ersatz theming of the amusement park heightens that feeling of emptiness. Not only is there nothing here, but what is here isn’t even real.

An abandoned photo kiosk, with computers, receipt printers, and sample photos still there.

The future of the property is complicated by the ownership arrangement between Six Flags and the City of New Orleans. The land is owned by the city, and Six Flags is committed to a 75-year lease requiring it to operate the park. Both Six Flags and the City owe money on a $25 million construction loan from the Department of Housing and Urban Development.

The Joker continues to survey his overgrown domain.

The city is loath to allow Six Flags to exit the lease, because it would have to assume the full burden of the HUD loan. Other companies have approached Six Flags about buying the property, with grand ideas about a water park or a full-scale resort, but none of these ideas have solidified.

A look across the park’s central lagoon, formerly Jazz Lake.

For the time being, the park remains caught in a post-Katrina catch-22: it is both too expensive to rebuild and too expensive to abandon.

Further Research:

• The official Six Flags New Orleans website has carried the same message for three years.
• Six Flags New Orleans has an unofficial fan site, SNFO.com. The website has maps, forums, a comprehensive photo archive, and ongoing updates about the future of the park.
• Recent Times-Picayune coverage, here and here.
• The park has spawned several tribute videos on YouTube, which show the park when it was active.
• A collection of photos on Shutterfly, likely taken by a Six Flags employee, show the extent of the flooding.
• A high-resolution satellite photo shows the park during flooding.

This is a special post, stemming from a New Year’s resolution: All 1500 images in my collection (as well as the 10,000 others yet to be published) are now licensed under Creative Commons. You can find out what it means, here. My interest in history is really part of a larger interest in engaging the public and making them aware of the vast cultural shift we’re experiencing. The opportunities and perils that we’re experiencing now will only get more marked. And in order to fight the urges all of us have – to cloister ourselves from this increasingly ugly world – we should all strive to give back in some small way.

Last year, my lackluster attempt at meeting a New Year’s resolution was just barely met when – on a foggy December morning – I helped plant native grass at a local historical park site. This year, I decided to strive to make 2009 much less torpid.

All I have are my photos and words. I realize they are only a minor submission, especially in a world that is increasingly barraged with the creative works of millions of talented individuals. But my announcement today will hopefully send joy to the heart of some researcher or blogger who loves writing about obscure topics or odd places but can’t seem to find that perfect illustration.

This is no small jump. I’ve spent many sleepless nights composing that “perfect” shot. I’ve weathered the cold and have foregone showers for days (much to the chagrin of fellow photographers) to capture that perfect element of the landscape. I leave it to you – readers, thinkers, human beings above all – to analyze it, re-work it, make it your own. I’m giving up a large part of myself just as millions of others are. But that’s the beauty of where we are in history, ain’t it? How can I not do this? You are my inspiration. You help me continue this great project I have in my mind.

Today, as I release these 1,500-odd images of little-known places that each have a special place in my heart, I can only hope you can put them to good use, perhaps understand my intention, and even make them your own in some small way, because – really – that’s what it means to be human. Thank you for reading. I have a great story for you coming from a contributor tomorrow!

Cold Storage Building - Columbian Exposition in Chicago (click for large image)

Earlier, I had mentioned the acquisition by Bearings of a very rare pictorial book with detailed illustrations of all buildings constructed for the Chicago World’s Fair.  I’m here to continue the posting with the latest scan from the book: The ill-fated Cold Storage Building.

The cold storage building at the Columbia World’s exposition was the first to go down. It was consumed, not due to the wrecking ball, but rather because a fire broke out on July 10th, 1893, right in the midst of the World Fair’s most successful time.

It was known as the “Greatest Refrigerator on Earth,” and was estimated to be 130 by 255 feet. The lower level provided cold storage for the thousands of pounds of food served every day at the fair; while the upper story featured an ice skating rink for fair patrons.

Its Romanesque design was conceived of by Franklin P. Burnham (the “other” Burnham of Chicago architectural fame). Seventeen firemen were killed in the blaze and it is believed to be caused by a negligently placed wooden element near the smokestack.

Further Reading

Google Books: The Chicago World’s Fair of 1893