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W e d n e s d ay, J a n u a ry 28, 2026
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Danny Heitman AT RANDOM
As a new year starts, making plans nudges me to dream My grown daughter changed careers a couple of years ago, a transition that required her to go back to school for an interior design degree. Years after graduating from college, she was back in the classroom, reconnecting with the joys of homework. Among her assignments were some drawings for design projects — detailed plans about where and how to place sofas and chairs, tables and shelves, rugs, desks and pieces of art. I asked her to mail me some of her homework so that I could keep it near my keyboard. Like many parents, my wife and I often displayed school work from our daughter and son when they were small. The latest report cards and crayon drawings found their way to the front of our fridge or a family bulletin board. Seeing our children’s creations reminded us of their special place in our lives. Just because our daughter is now an adult, keeping her close in this way still seemed like a good thing to do. Knowing how sentimental I am, she sent me some of her drawings. Shortly after their arrival, I slipped one from its big manila envelope and taped it to my office wall. My daughter’s skills have improved since she finished that assignment, and the drawing on my wall is a reminder of how far she’s come. The picture makes me smile when I glance across my desk and notice it. My daughter’s handiwork reminds me of the plans I drew in shop class during my high school years. Although we built nothing grander than a small bookshelf, our teacher required us to chart out our work in detail on paper. There was a textbook perfection to the plans that life seldom matched. In its imagined form on the paper, my little shelf was straight and true. While putting the plan in motion, though, I quickly met reality. Bent nails, splinters and knotted pine taught me that things are usually harder in the doing than in the thinking. The charm of every plan, I suppose, is that it brings us deep within its dream of possibility, inviting us to think about the future as a frontier full of promise. That can be a special comfort here in January, after the brightness of the holidays has subsided and we return to the routines of work and obligation. Where does wonder live after the decorations are back in their boxes, the holiday trees ditched at the curb? I think about all of this each January when I climb the steps to my office and begin another year.
STAFF PHOTOS BY ROBIN MILLER
LSU master of fine art student Demi Dauterive, right, and her art professor, Jane Ashburn, have been working since August on a project to preserve Steele Burden’s barn sketches at the LSU Rural Life Museum.
If these walls could talk …
Uncovering stories inside the Rural Life’s barn, LSU duo preserves Steele Burden’s sketches
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BY ROBIN MILLER Staff writer
emi Dauterive uses a bamboo swab to dab acetone around the drawing, careful not to apply too much of the solution at once. The sketch is a rendering of a man driving a mule-drawn wagon stacked high in sugarcane. Dauterive knows there’s something to be preserved here, a story of everyday life at Windrush Plantation told through rough lines made by Steele Burden’s pen. Or was it a graphite pencil — a distinction that now matters. The artist’s medium has yet to be determined, which presents a challenge because if any of these drawings are lost, much of Burden’s narrative will also be lost with them. It’s a narrative that lingers in the background of the exhibit of funeral carriages and farm equipment on the walls of the LSU Rural Life Museum’s barn in Baton Rouge. Burden drew them directly on the vinyl attached to the insulation, which was installed to hold warmth in the room. The only problem is the room doesn’t have a climate-control sys-
Steele Burden’s drawing of a farm worker milking a cow is one of many he sketched on the LSU Rural Life Museum’s barn walls to tell the story of daily life on Windrush Plantation, which is now the museum. tem, which doesn’t bode well for the artifacts it houses. So, museum staff are in the process of figuring out how to refurbish the space to preserve the artifacts, which include Burden’s drawings. This is where Dauterive, of St. Bernard, became part of Burden’s
story. She’s working on her master’s degree in art history while also working alongside her art professor, Jane Ashburn, to preserve Burden’s sketches. So now comes the question — why?
ä See BARN, page 2G
ä See AT RANDOM, page 2G
Does anyone remember the zany N.O.-focused ’60s talk show? BY RACHEL MIPRO
Contributing writer
Decades ago, “eccentrics,” “nut cases” and other New Orleans personalities enjoyed the spotlight of a late-night TV show. One reader’s question brings back recollections of the memorable “New Orleans Nite People.” The question: “I remember hearing about a show called ‘Late
Night New Orleans People.’ When did it air and where did it air? What was the format of the show?” Delving into the often inscrutable landscape of old New Orleans media with the help of seasoned TV producers turned up two possibilities: “Late Nite New Orleans” and “New Orleans Nite People.”
“New Orleans Nite People” was a show that elicited strong, although mixed, reactions from the viewing public. Local DJ “Captain Humble,” aka Hugh Dillard, created the show in 1968, envisioning Dillard a local spin on the classic “Tonight Show” formula. The show aired on WGNO from 1968-70 and was briefly brought
back for a one-hour special in October of 1987. Characters such as Ruthie the Duck Girl, Harry the Singing Mailman and Ding Dong the Singing Bird contributed to mingled feelings about the show, which was often accused of mining for shock value — one guest is said to have bit off a chicken’s head on air.
David Cuthbert, longtime New Orleans reporter and former writer for The Times-Picayune, had somewhat unflattering memories of the program. “If memory serves … [the show] involved an ever-changing array of people yearning to be thought of as New Orleans ‘characters,’ whose entertainment
ä See CURIOUS, page 2G