You’ve probably driven past those big brick gates on South Oak Street a thousand times. Maybe you stopped once for a birthday party or to let the kids burn off some steam. But honestly, most people treat Zemurray Park like just another patch of grass in Hammond. That’s a mistake. This place isn't just a park; it’s a weirdly specific time capsule of South Louisiana history mixed with a massive $15 million vision for the future.
If you think it's just a playground and a pond, you're missing the story of a banana tycoon’s grief and a city's absolute refusal to let its crown jewel gather dust.
The Banana King’s Legacy
Most people in Tangipahoa Parish know the name Zemurray, but they don't always connect the dots. Samuel Zemurray, known as "Sam the Banana Man," wasn't just some local donor. He was the head of the United Fruit Company. In 1945, he and Coryell McKinney handed over 25 acres to the City of Hammond.
The catch? It had to be a "Memorial Public Park forever."
It was a tribute to his son, Samuel Zemurray Jr., whose plane went down during World War II. When you walk near the front entrance today, you can still feel that weight. It wasn't built for "amenities"; it was built so a father could ensure his son’s name was never forgotten in the soil of the place they called home.
The Train, the Pool, and the Reality of 2026
Let’s talk about the Peggy Lee. If you grew up here, that miniature train is the core memory. For a few years, there were whispers it wouldn't come back, or that the maintenance was too much. Well, as of early 2026, the city has kept the wheels turning, especially during the holiday "Starry Night" events. It’s a tiny, noisy, wonderful piece of nostalgia that still cuts through the park's humidity.
Then there’s the pool. It’s officially the Zemurray Swimming Pool, and it’s basically the only place to survive a Hammond July. Admission is still a flat $5.
- Pro Tip: Bring cash. While they finally added card readers, there is a $3 service fee that feels like a gut punch if you're just paying for one person.
- Hours: They usually stay closed on Mondays for "shocking" and maintenance. Tuesday through Saturday, you've got until 5:00 PM.
The pool isn't some Olympic-style sterile tank. It’s loud, it smells like SPF 50, and it’s the heartbeat of the park during the summer. If you want quiet, go to the pond. If you want to feel the energy of the city, hit the water.
Why the Master Plan Actually Matters
Hammond isn't the same town it was in 1945. The "Zemurray Park Master Plan" has been the talk of City Council for a while now, and we’re finally seeing the 20-year roadmap take shape. The goal? To turn this 33-acre plot into "Hammond’s City Park."
What does that actually mean for you?
It means better accessibility. For years, the parking situation was... creative, to say the least. People just kind of parked wherever there was a gap in the trees. The new vision focuses on dedicated parking and, more importantly, security. With its proximity to downtown and Southeastern Louisiana University, the park has had its ups and downs with safety perceptions. The city is doubling down on lighting and "sightlines"—basically clearing out the creepy overgrown spots so the whole park feels open and safe.
The Skate Park and the "Secret" Walking Trail
If you haven't been to the back of the park lately, the Dreamland Skate Park is still the local Mecca for kids on boards and bikes. It’s one of the few places in the parish where "street" culture is actually celebrated rather than discouraged.
But if you’re more "slow walk" than "kickflip," the walking track is the hidden gem. It’s exactly 0.7 miles per lap. Do it three times and you’ve cleared two miles. It circles the pond, which, by the way, is actually stocked. You’ll see old-timers out there with cane poles catching bream and the occasional catfish while the ducks aggressively lobby for bread scraps (even though the signs say don't feed them).
Don't Forget the Dog Park
Hammond is a dog town. Between the college students and the historic district residents, there are a lot of golden retrievers needing a run. The dog park here is decent, though it can get muddy after a typical Louisiana downpour.
It’s divided into sections for big and small dogs, which is great because nobody wants their Chihuahua becoming a chew toy for a bored Great Dane. Just be prepared: the "community" here is real. If you go at 5:30 PM on a Thursday, you’re going to end up talking to three strangers about local politics or where to get the best po-boy.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
- Check the Calendar: Before you load the car, check the Hammond Area Recreation District (H.A.R.D. #1) website. They’ve moved a lot of youth soccer and flag football to the Reimer’s field area. If there’s a tournament, parking will be a nightmare.
- The "Hidden" Entry: If the Oak Street entrance is backed up, try coming in from the back side near the Michael J. Kenney Center. It’s often easier to find a spot near the gym.
- Pack a Cooler: There aren't many concessions unless there’s a major event. Bring water. Lots of it.
- Visit the Cemetery: Just outside the main garden area, there’s a small, quiet cemetery. It’s a stark reminder of the Joiner family who lived on this land in the 1790s, long before the Banana King arrived.
Zemurray Park is a weird, beautiful mix of 18th-century roots, 20th-century grief, and 21st-century ambition. It’s not perfect—the grass is sometimes too long and the pond is definitely murky—but it is the soul of Hammond.
Next time you go, don't just stay by the swings. Walk the full 0.7 miles. Look at the columns. Listen for the train. You’ll see why this land was worth a "forever" promise.
