08/21/2026
The Golden Age of Re-Exploration: The 1970s – Chapter 10
Paddling away from Chester, Illinois on February 15th, 1977, one can see a look of happy relief on Reid “La Salle” Lewis’s face. Finally on the Mississippi, downstream from here on in, he could safely guess this final leg of La Salle: Expedition II’s 3300-mile journey would be a comparative breeze.
Sure, there were still places with potentially canoe-wrecking ice chunks in the river. There were still days to come with snow and sleet and cold winds in their faces, yes. But now they were heading toward warmer waters, toward a gentler climate – and, in a word, toward spring.
For the crew, it was wonderful to get off their aching feet and back into the canoes, where they could instead be reminded of how sore their shoulders felt after long days of paddling.
Next stops after Chester were Grand Tower, Cape Girardeau, Dog Tooth Bend, and at the tip of the State, Cairo … then out of Illinois into Missouri at New Madrid. Next up was Tiptonville, Tennessee -- then right back to crossing the river to Missouri at Caruthersville.
Leaving Caruthersville, they got caught in, of all things, a sandstorm. After that, the next major city stop was Memphis, Tennessee, followed by West Memphis, Arkansas. To stay accurate with the original La Salle’s itinerary, they hung around a few days in the area. In 1682, one of La Salle’s crew, Pierre Prudhomme, had gone missing there and they couldn’t leave without him.
But historical accuracy only goes so far. There is no indication they told John Fialko, who was Prudhomme’s 1977 counterpart, to get lost for a while and then reappear floating downstream on a log.
In early March, they reached Helena, Arkansas, where they would meet one of the more fascinating people of their entire journey. Miss Lily Peter was the Arkansas State Poet, a musician, photographer, and a patron of the arts, among many other things. By then in her mid-80s, perhaps her straddling of two distinct eras of the South could best be described by the fact that she owned two plantations … but had turned to organic farming on them.
As a fervent champion of environmental causes, Miss Lily had heard about La Salle: Expedition II and saw its educational potential. She donated $10,000 to the project. Thus, they were certainly going to stop at Helena to say hello.
A few days later, they were in Rosedale, Mississippi, where they camped for several days. By March 19th, they had reached Vicksburg, where some toured the Civil War battle site, including still-recovering Steve Marr on crutches and Jorge Garcia with his arm in a sling. Though never able to rejoin the crew in the canoes after the Hebron truck accident, they followed along with the Liaison Team.
On another day, at Natchez, Mississippi, they toured the new Mississippi Queen, a luxury steamboat with seven decks, basically a floating hotel for tourists. The South was cashing in on a wave of sentimentality for Old Dixie that had begun with the Centennial of the Civil War, then had flared up again with the recent Bicentennial spirit.
On March 26th, they were just two weeks from the end of their long journey, entering Louisiana. Two days later, at Baton Rouge, they participated in a calumet (“peace pipe”) ritual with a Houma chief.
And then, on April 3rd, they reached the ceremonial end of the expedition, as crowds greeted them at New Orleans. It was nice, with media coverage, but for the crew this was not the official end. They technically hadn’t yet reached the Gulf of Mexico.
To ensure they’d get to the actual mouth of the Mississippi on the same date as the original La Salle, they stayed a few days in NOLA. One of them was spent at Chalmette National Park, near the site of the 1815 Battle of New Orleans. In a scene that would today be considered cringeworthy, young women dressed up in hoop skirts and crinolines as though they were cosplaying Scarlett O’Haras sashayed among the La Salle crew in front of a plantation-style mansion.
When they left New Orleans on April 4th, there would just be a couple more stops, at Fort Jackson and Pilottown. But it must have been sinking in as they left Pilottown: This was really IT, the last stretch, really the end. A massive relief … but for most, somewhat sad, too.
They were weary, every which way there was to be weary. Like platoonmates in war, they’d become both a tight brotherhood … and sick of each other. It was just human nature.
Marc Lieberman, who played the role of nobleman Henri Tonti (minus the real Tonti’s iron hook hand), looked back on it in 2022: “I always say the hardest thing was the interpersonal relationships. Living with 23 guys for two and a half years – it’s difficult! And it’s remarkable to me that we never really had any fistfights.”
But bicker, they did. Including with Reid Lewis. Away from the cameras, there had been many moments when his decisions had been questioned, when arguments broke out, when resentments ran high that the guy in the fancy red coat seemed more interested in getting his mug in the local newspapers along the way than in the exhausted state of his weather-battered crew.
However, Lewis had his side of it, too: Every charming smile and French-accented spiel he gave to the cameras when he was as exhausted as his men was in the hope it would bring new donations. The expedition was operating in a red as red as that fancy coat. It would take him years to pay off all the debt, but true to his word, he eventually did.
And he certainly fared better than the real Rene Robert Cavalier, Sieur de La Salle. Five years after his 1681-82 trek that resulted in finding the mouth of the Mississippi, La Salle was leading another expedition when some of his own men mutinied and murdered him.
Lewis would eventually reflect pragmatically, and with a sort of fatherly pride: “It’s not easy living on top of each other under very rigorous conditions, and we all have our bad moments. But nobody quit the expedition. And that’s one thing I always marveled at, because it would have been so easy, especially as we got into the populated areas – especially going right through Chicago, my gosh! You could jump on the next train and go home. But nobody did that. And to this day I marvel at that.”
Where the Mississippi became the Gulf of Mexico, there was a giant bell buoy on the water. On April 9th, 1977, six canoes huddled around it, their crews reaching out with their paddles one by one to smack the bell. They had made it. It was official now.
Beaching their canoes, a small contingency of family, friends and press awaited them, and a jubilant celebration broke out. Reid was escorted right back into the water by his crew for a little “baptism,” as were members of the Liaison Team.
Steve Marr, still hobbling on crutches, couldn’t get the cast on his broken leg wet, but he did make his way far enough into the water on one foot to be able to say he, too, had made it to the Gulf.
A makeshift wooden cross had been erected so that Father Loran could do what his predecessor, Father Membre, had done 295 years ago to the day, somewhere right around this same spot: Offer up a prayer of thanks. Lewis raised a sword and proclaimed the land for France.
Well. It was over. Now what?
Somewhere along their way down the Mississippi, a tugboat captain hollered down to them derisively that what they were doing wasn’t so impressive. “Anybody can paddle DOWN the Mississippi! Let’s see you paddle back to Illinois, upstream!”
And so, after all their trials and tribulations, after 3300 miles, many close calls, tired and aching bodies, humid heat, frigid cold, illnesses, injuries … that’s exactly what they did. This time, not because they felt obligated to. This time, not just to see it through so nobody could call them quitters.
This time, just to hang out a little longer, savor their victory. This time, as just a bunch of friends on a little canoeing trip.
(Photos: Elgin Public Museum La Salle Collection, all rights reserved.)
THANK YOU for reading our ten-part story of La Salle Expedition II! Don’t forget that Saturday, August 22nd, we celebrate its 50th anniversary with a new exhibit and indoor-outdoor event at the museum, 12-4. We’ll have games and activities for kids, raffles, a voyageur encampment scene in front of the building, TWO authors of books about La Salle: Expedition II (Lorraine Boissoneault and Craig P. Howard) for a booksigning, and more! Admission is free.
Many of the crew members will be at the museum, as they are also in town for their 50th high school reunion. Come meet these hometown heroes!
We also will have a special showing of a documentary film about the expedition at 6 pm. Please contact [email protected] to reserve a place, as seating is limited.
