In the wee hours of the morning, away from the bright lights and revelry of Bourbon Street, walking the dimly lit streets, it is quiet and the air a bit still, and perhaps you've imbibed on more than a few cocktails. You approach the Ursulines Convent, and look up to see one of the always closed and never seen open board and batten shutters on the attic dormers fly open and shear off the hinges!
