Audubon Insectarium closing. Share your favorite memories

Friends,

Another casualty of the economic shutdown related to Covid-19 will be the Audubon Insectarium. Our old neighbors were some of its biggest supporters, helping bring the idea to the City Council in 1992. At that time, Ron Forman and the Audubon crew wanted a massive $20 million new construction located at the river between Esplanade and Elysian Fields. Land in that part of, I guess Marigny, was cheap then. But a year later the Army Corps of Engineers staunchly opposed it. Naturally, the NIMBY French Quarterites, always happy to reject any and every idea, joined with the USACE. They complained this new extension of Woldenberg Park, which would replace a dilapidated wharf, would affect the historic character of their neighborhood and add to parking problems.

Old Ron had to look elsewhere. By late 1995, the leading candidate for the site's location was the U.S. Custom House on Canal St. This site near the foot of Canal grew more popular, even as the NIMBYs said it would hurt the Quarter. The NIMBYs were keenly aware of the throngs of entomologists and their groupies from all over the world who were chomping at the bit to congregate in New Orleans. Perhaps the NIMBYs were afraid they would bring invasive species to the Quarter which would do similar damage as did the Formosan termite, a native of southern China, not Taiwan, despite what its name might suggest.

Even when Marc Morial threw his weight behind the project at the Custom House the NIMBYs cried foul. They urged the city to put it at Aubudon Zoo. This time they were joined from the Landmarks Commission, who argued a historic building like the Custom House was better left to sit empty, unused, and collect dust than to attract bug tourists.

Work started in 2000 to convert a large chunk of the Custom House into suitable living and breeding grounds for cockroaches galore. But like a lot of things in New Orleans, things moved a bit slowly. By the time Katrina hit the city in 2005, the Insectarium still was not open.

Finally, on June 13, 2008, 16 years after plans were first unveiled, the Insectarium opened. Mother and I were first in line. Mother, as always, purchased us the highest level of membership to the Audubon Institute, I believe called the Eagle Pass. It came with great benefits, including that year a butterfly watch, which I wore and was later stolen when I dropped it on the streetcar a year later. Anyway, when the doors opened, we rushed to the gift shop where I got Freddy, the caterpillar stuffed animal, made by Yottoy. He was the perfect companion to my butterfly watch! Mother purchased for herself a Beetles shirt, which hilariously recreated that iconic Beatles album where they are in the crosswalk, but instead of music players, there were literal beetles crossing! I laugh every time I see that shirt, although Mother never wears it.

That day there were all sorts of novel attractions, including a cooking production. I cannot remember who was the local chef cooking on the portable gas stove, but he was frying dragon flies! Although I was terrified to try it, his calming voice and Mother's stern hand convinced me to take a bite of one, wings, body, head, and all. It was surprisingly delicious. The closest familiar food to which I could compare it was a fried soft shell crab, whose greatest version of preparation is done at Impastato's in Metairie, topped with the Marcello sauce, which usually includes about half a pound of jumbo lump crabmeat.

Although I had an enjoyable time with Mother that day, and had unlimited admission to the facility, I rarely returned. When I did, it was usually to take a break from the heat of the Quarter during the summer. Walking by the granite building, I always wondered if the building's tenants used exterminators or was the use of insecticides frowned upon during those years of operation.

The Insectarium has to be one of Audubon and Forman's worst ideas. It was the nation's largest insectarium, but it never achieved much draw. It took 16 years of fighting to make happen and survived less than 12. I doubt it ever made a profit, so it was likely an easy decision, financially at least, to close it and move some of the remaining exhibits to the Aquarium. I wish I could say I will miss it, but I think that is overstating it. I hardly have any nostalgia from the place, but perhaps some of your stories will show something else. I look forward to your stories, which I love.

Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU