I took last week off from writing this blog for two reasons. First, I thought it might give everyone a break from my ranting. Second, I needed a week off from my own voice, so I played tennis and tried not to talk. My late wife would give me a hard time about my southern drawl or accent. I am not conscious of my accent, but she would swear that when I get tired the y’alls and yonders get more prevalent. When I travel north or to the midwest, I will inquire if people can tell where I am from? Proudly I hear, “oh you have to be from the south.”
As a kid, I would always think that being from Virginia had a special meaning from other Southern locations. If you were from Virginia, you could claim Jefferson, Washington, A. Ashe and many other southern gentlemen. Obviously, the evil of slavery and years of mistreatment of groups of people are never to be copied. But that is part of the south, the ever-improving pathos that allows southerners to evolve out of the bad while maintaining the good of our region, our community and our southern history. My country roots have been revealed more in my music tastes as I have aged. But my affiliation with being from the south has never been in my hobbies. I don’t have the patience for fishing, can’t deal with the noise of guns, and prefer full length jeans instead of “jorts.”
My southern proclivities trend to more innate southern indicators such as good manners (as much as possible), direct conversation, and overall hospitality. I like southern literature and religiously read “Garden and Gun” to maintain a minimum level of Southern culture. The feeling of being anachronistic has haunted me from childhood. An idea formed when I was in middle school, that I had been born too late my origin year of 1973 should have been 1725 right in time for the Revolution. I would have been right in the thick of dumping tea in the harbor and drafting a love letter to George III. Virginia gave birth to people who fought for ideas if what was John Brown or the leadership of George Washington.
A Virginian means embracing tradition while rejecting things we got wrong. A true southerner knows when to admit that they had it wrong then put their shoulder to the plow to make things better.
Albert R. Hartley
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