The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival was first held April 22 – 26th, 1970. It grew to a full eight day, over two week event, six years later. Volunteers can sign up for one or both weekends. After 15 hours of accumulated volunteer’ hours, you are thanked with a Jazz Fest Volunteer t-shirt and a commemorative glass. I signed up to work both weeks with my friend and former coworker, Diane. Her enthusiasm for this Festival is infectious. Over the years I have heard her talk so much about it, I was excited to be invited to tag along for the experience. I do love music! Unfortunately, Diane developed a kidney stone, hospitalizing her, and had to miss this week, but her spirit is with me.
May 5, 2022, I am scheduled to work at one of the Shell Oil Company sponsored recycling stations. When I get to my assigned station on the outer dirt track near Festival Stage, I meet Haley, a young 22 year old musician that performs on the street with her accordion for tips. She is tall, thin, dressed in black, and with a self-confidence I envy. She instructs me on our job duties, and we get to visit as foot traffic is slow until the gates open at 11:30 am for ticketed attendees.
I ask her a lot of questions and she is patient with me.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Missouri,” she answers.
“How did you end up down here?” I continue prodding.
“I like to travel and play music. I perform on the street with my accordion,” she tells me.
She is studying me as we talk. She shifts from one word answers to sharing about her life and how she lives. I share about my life on the farm, and why I wrote my book about the challenges I had acquiring mental health treatment for my adult daughter, after her infant daughter is diagnosed terminally ill with Zellweger Disorder. I have missed people crossing my path and welcome the interaction with this fierce free spirit. She is kind and we take turns sharing stories about ourselves. She reminds me of my second to oldest daughter, Ashley Heathcock, Designer. Sort of Rock and Roll with a little sweetness.
My four hours fly by. I meet my replacement, LuWanna, from Brazil. She had a big smile with bubbly energy bouncing out of every sentence she spoke. She shared about working in New York for a family as an au pair. She and I had the best conversation about babies needing sunshine and outdoors. I have missed small talk. I take a quick picture with my volunteer friends and head to turn in my timecard so I can make my way to find my spot in the field in front of Festival Stage.
I arrive at the back of the field and set up camp next to the fence. Then I go explore and get food. I’ll admit I’m not a foodie really, but when I come to Jazz Fest the food is almost as good as the music, if not better. It’s a difficult choice but I choose crawfish beignets. I get in line and when I get to the counter, I say I just want one.
“Are you sure honey?” The lady with a wide smile and southern charm asked.
“Yes, just one,” I say smiling because I have discipline.
I make it to my spot and settle down for people watching as the crowd slowly fills the field. I take a bite. Oh my God! This is the best thing I have had in a while. It’s like a light puff of fried deliciousness. I check my watch. I want to see Wayne Toups. I have plenty of time of time to make it back to that vendor and still see the show.
“You were right,” I tell the smiling lady behind the register, “I should have gotten more. Those crawfish beignets are so good. I don’t care about calories today. Give me four more!”
“I told you Sugar, we make them with love!” she says as we laugh and bond over good food.
I make it back to in time to hear Marcia Ball perform. Everyone is swaying and enjoying the music. Then Wayne Toups came out and continued the mood. I stay for a few songs before packing it in, since it’s an hour and forty-five minute drive one way to my farm, and I work the early shift tomorrow.
May 6th, 2022, I arrive for my 6:30 to 10:30 am infield traffic duty. I am greeted by Mr. Gary, a retired Navel Officer and boy scout master. The weather was cloudy with a 100% chance of rain. I was prepared just like Mr. Gary. Our intersection was busier than my last traffic assignment. Mr. Gary has volunteered at the festival for years. A steady stream of people wave and stop to say hello to him as he works. He tells me all the details for how to direct the cars. He talks fondly about his family and how his wife volunteers for church, “We just do our own thing volunteering.”
We take shelter under the Coca Cola tent during one of the scattered showers. Mr. Gary and I talk about scouting. I was a girl scout I tell him. He tells me there are girls in the Boy Scouts now if I want to participate. Our supervisor comes around and asks if we can work a little longer due to the rain delay and infield still setting up. We volunteer happily.
After my volunteer shift, I find my usual spot, then walk around and take pictures and look at the artist booths before choosing a place to eat. I order a fish po-boy. I do love French bread from New Orleans! I find a good spot between two families and watch the tribute to Art and Charles Neville with the Funky Meters and Ivan Neville & The Neville Brothers Band featuring Cyril and Charmain Neville. Then Boz Scaggs took the stage and he sounded amazing. He still has a great voice. I am feeling the music, enjoying the food, and my own spirit is growing to a higher level of appreciation, living in the moment. I stop by the volunteer trailer and turn in my timecard. A kind lady with cool earrings takes my card and then gives me my coveted volunteer t-shirt and glass. I thank her, then make my way to the employee/volunteer shuttle to begin my commute home.
The next morning I make it to the city an hour before my last shift on Saturday, May 7th, 2022. I head over to get my assignment and make my way to my station for the day. I meet Gretchen, she and her husband have volunteered as a couple for years. She is engaging and enthusiastic as she tells me how the festival started and has grown over the years. We talk about everything, from our love for our children, to plants and farming and mixed in our love for music and people. After my shift I meet another long time volunteer, Cheryl Ledet. We connect with our festival experience, and I share about my book, explaining my mission to increase access to mental healthcare for everyone. Cheryl also volunteers at her local library and is a breath of fresh air as we find we are kindred spirits.
I turn in my timecard and get to thank Janelle Jefferson, Volunteer Coordinator, for a lovely festival. I hope to return next year and do it all again. I make my way to Festival Stage field, and it is getting filled early today. Stevie Nicks is the headliner and this city (and me) love her! I get settled. It is a tight fit squeezing in my chair and umbrella next to the fence. There are people everywhere today! I am not sure of the numbers, but I estimate attendance records will be broken. I make a food run, lump crab po-boy with fresh squeezed lemonade. I watch Samantha Fish rock it out and she makes an impression on me. The Revivalist followed, not disappointing, then Stevie Nicks. The crowd has grown to fill the spaces behind the back fence, onto the dirt track, leaving only single file lanes of foot traffic both directions. She paid tribute to several of her rock friends that aren’t here. I thought about my own friends that have lost their battles and aren’t here. She sang her hits and the crowd, and I, sang along too.
As I make my way onto the shuttle bus, I realize there aren’t enough vacant seats. A kind lady offers for me to squeeze in with her daughters. After we begin our route to our vehicles, she begins telling me of her nonprofit charity, oneheartnola.com. Her name is Teri Hrabrovsky. Their charity aids families in the foster care system teaming with the Department of Family and Child services. I tell her about our community charity in McComb, Mississippi, Greater Hope Homeless Shelter (GreaterHopeHomelessShelter.com), the women’s shelter, and plans for building temporary housing for families in crisis. On the way home, I reflect on the power of music. It can heal, bring people together, and transport you to a happy place, without ever leaving where you are. I am grateful to be a part of Jazz Fest 2022! I think I have found my family.
May you never lose hope, and may you find peace wherever you go.
Jacqueline White-Ivey
Please read my noval about a mother's struggle to provide mental heathcare for her adult daughter. Set in New Orleans.
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