Mardi Gras Memories in the Bay

Lisa Monti takes a look back at Mardi Gras in the Bay, remembering parades, throws and the Krewe of Real People's legendary Moss Men. 
- photos from the Scafidi collection at the Hancock County Historical Society and courtesy Edward Carver

Shared History - Feb/March 2018

Webb School children parade for Mardi Gras, 1946, photo courtesy Edward Carver

The Green room is smokin'
And the Plaza's burnin' down
Throw my baby out the window
And let the joint burn down

All because it's Carnival Ti-i-ime
Whoa, it's Carnival Time
Oh well, it's Carnival Time
And everybody's havin' fun

Just as sure as our favorite New Orleans AM radio station started playing the Al “Carnival Time” anthem, the Mardi Gras fuse was lit. We knew that before long, parades, throws, costumes and a whole lot of good times were on the way. ​

​Carnival season also meant some days off from school, and it didn’t get any better than that.

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Every community along the Coast fashioned its own Mardi Gras fun with balls, parades and royalty, going way back to the early 1900s in the case of Biloxi. 

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Mardi Gras in the Bay, Past & Present

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As a kid growing up in Bay St. Louis, Mardi Gras day was the whole Carnival season. That was well before Carnival associations multiplied, their seasonal celebrations proliferated and King cakes were sold at drug stores and grocery stores. 

Costumes for the most part were homemade, as were Halloween costumes, sometimes becoming interchangable. Accessories were mostly rubber masks that covered the whole face or lipstick and rouge applied in excess. I can remember joining cousins of stairstep ages dressed as cowboys and Indians and gypsies, some wearing scary masks and all holding tight to our bags of throws.

We stood for what seemed like the whole day along a forgotten parade route (maybe on Necaise Avenue?) waiting for the horseback riders, police cars, marching bands and some form of humble floats. 
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For a time and for some unknown reason, wooden nickels were especially prized throws, though I can’t recall any redemption value. My most memorable throw came courtesy of a long forgotten bakery that provided miniature loaves of sliced bread tossed sparingly to the crowds. To a kid who was captivated by anything shrunk down to a perfect tiny replica, it was a magical possession. 

Someone recently asked if I remembered when Mardi Gras beads were made of glass before plastic became the favored material. Hard to imagine now that hazard waiting to happen, but so was running behind a mosquito-spraying truck and other experiences done in the name of 1950s fun.

Another memorable component of Bay St. Louis Mardi Gras starting in the mid-150s was the marching Moss Men, which Bay resident Larry Lewis recalled in his Good Neighbor profile six years ago. 

What do Moss Men look like? “Something like a gorilla suit,” said Larry in his Shoofly interview.

I remember the Moss Men dancing in the streets but my most vivid recollection was the terror my very young niece Becky suffered when she first laid eyes on them. To this day, when we talk about anything related to Mardi Gras, the Moss Men always come up. And so do a lot of memories of large family gatherings on Mardi Gras day, homemade costumes, jumping and diving for trinkets and looking down the street for the next truck float or marching band to appear.

​We never wanted the parade to end.

All because it's Carnival Ti-i-ime
Whoa, it's Carnival Time
Oh well, it's Carnival Time
And everybody's havin' fun

Click here for the Shoofly Magazine's historical perspective on coast Mardi Gras celebrations.

 Click here to read about former Moss Man Larry Lewis in the Shoofly archives.