Dupre, Jagneaux, Gautreaux, Cormier, Lebas, Fontenot, Ardoin, Hebert, LaHaye, and Perrodin. Odds are, if you can correctly pronounce the names listed above and know at least one person with each, you might be from Evangeline Parish, or live near it. Living smack dab in the center of Louisiana, I've learned to pronounce these names and crazier but, I've had a lifetime to master it, unlike the rest of the state. It seems like the second I step out of the parish, the names Ville Platte, Pine Prairie, and Mamou seem to become nonexistent, let alone Chatanigier, Turkey Creek, Bayou Chicot, or Basile. But how does a whole parish seem to disappear? I've heard it said that long ago Evangeline Parish sold it's soul to the devil and the rest is history, and the evidence is here. Cross parish lines from St. laundry, Alllen, or Rapides and you'll see first hand how every parish highway somehow becomes 10 times worse and 10 times harder to drive on. Buried deep in the parish, there are even highways horribly chipsealed and covered in potholes, and even towns with main roads covered in gravel. But, home is home, and I wouldn't choose any other. Our pothole covered parish, also holds some of the coolest history, people, traditions, and legends. From whispers of mob ties at the Holiday in Mamou, legends of ancient Native American burrial gounds under Bayou Chicot Elementary, formally Bayou Chicot High School, to the history of a once booming railroad centered in Pine Prairie, there is very little that hasn't been heard of by Evangeline Parish residents but is lost to the rest of the world. This very reason is why I've chosen to shed some light on my little home. As I embark on this journey through Louisiana's forgotten parish, hopefully we can all learn to love it a little more.