It amazes me how people from other parts of the country view the South. They think it’s the scariest place on Earth. When my ex-wife was planning her first visit, her older sister called me from Los Angeles to voice her concerns. “I’m worried about Maggie going to Alabama. Is it safe? I’ve just read some things about Alabama that scare me.”
This is no joke; this conversation took place. It’s like they believe there’s a group of good ol’ boys hanging out at the airports looking for people who don’t belong. As soon as they get off the plane, a group of guys with mullets and Skoal can rings in their jeans will walk up and say, “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”
Here was my response. “Let me get this straight. You live in Los Angeles, and Maggie lives in Chicago, two cities with the worst crime in the country, and you’re worried about Maggie coming to Coosada, Alabama, where crime is almost nonexistent? If you’re going to judge Alabama by something you read, try to read something published within the last century.”
I never understood how people could judge, so wrongly, the land of Southern hospitality. We’re talking about a place where if your car broke down and you didn’t have a cell phone or any money, someone would pick you up, drive you to their mom’s house, fix you supper, pay to have your car repaired, or towed, and never ask for anything in return. And if it happened on a Sunday, they’d probably take you to church too.
My ex and I went on a haunted hayride one Halloween. As the tour progressed, it got scarier and scarier. There were witches, zombies, vampires, werewolves, and, of course, men in hockey masks with chainsaws. As we neared the end, these two girls sitting beside me, maybe 12 years old, were getting noticeably nervous. One said, “Oh no, we’re coming up on the hillbillies.”
She wasn’t kidding. The tractor pulled the trailer by an old country store. It looked like Blake. Young guys wearing overalls with no shirt and no shoes ran out and jumped on the trailer. They went to all the young girls with their blacked-out teeth and said, “Will you marry me?” And the girls screamed their heads off.
People sure have strange ideas about the South. One guy I met thought all we do is sit around eating grits, eating watermelons, eating fried chicken, drinking sweet tea, going to church, going muddin’, dating our relatives, and looking for UFOs. I set him straight right away. I said, “I’ve never seen a UFO, and second cousins don’t count.”