So at the one weekly lunch function at my school, I met a local (older) (white) (male) community member, and it turns out that he grew up in New Orleans, and so I was talking with him about the neighborhood, since I got to know the city a bit on my trip there in December.
It turns out that he was the son of a pastor in the Garden District.
"Protestant, I hope," I was like.
"Yes," he said, and then he added that there was "three-way segregation" when he was growing up in the 1950s: black-white, male-female, Catholic-Protestant.
(Interestingly, he made no mention of Jews, though I've heard awful things about how longstanding Jewish families have been treated there!)
"The Catholic kids were instructed to cross over to the other side of the street if there was a Protestant church there," he was like. "And I'm serious."
He also said that Protestants used to make fun of Catholics, for instance how the parish hall near his house had slot machines.
"You'll never guess what the grand prize was."
"A Bible?", I was like, though I was wondering if it gushed holy water or something.
"No," he was like, waving his hand jerkily while he tried to gather his thoughts, "Not what it gave out, but what appeared, on the dial, to win."
"Crosses?", I was like.
"No!", he was like. "The holy family! Jesus Mary Joseph, and you've got a winner!".
Then he was like, "You'll never guess what the second prize was."
I was thinking the trinity, but I wasn't sure, so I was like, "I have no idea."
"The trinity!", he was like. "Father Son and Holy Spirit, and you've got a winner!".
He then said that 3rd prize was Matthew Mark and Luke.
"No John?", I was like.
"No," he said, "There's only 3 dials on a slot machine."
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