It’s a Southern thing
Having this article “in the makings of my mind” for nigh on a month now as different happenings would occur, I would attribute them to taking place by saying, “It’s a Southern thing,” as an explanation to anyone present. Then, I got an extra “feed” off of David Lauderdale’s Nov. 5 column: “Road trip to Texas aims to take in South’s best barbecue,” for some extra thoughts.
We, in the Lowcountry describe ourselves as Southern country folk, to a degree, but I have to say, “You ain’t seen nothing yet that even holds a candle to that description until you visit Hemingway, South Carolina, in Georgetown County, and there you run into ‘pure country Southerners’ bred to the bone.
Lauderdale mentioned in his article Scott’s Bar-B-Que in Hemingway is the South’s No. 1 barbecue joint, according to the 2019 list in Southern Living magazine, and I can attest to that.
Just so happens Hemingway was my husband’s stomping grounds, and the little, spread-out town is “eat up” with Tanners.
When visiting there many moons ago, early ‘90s, we attended their Bar-B-Que Shag Festival. Along with relatives, Harry’s sister Josephine and husband E.C. Hubbard, we really ate “high on the hog,” so to speak, and our husbands brought back souvenir festival caps.
While at the festival, we meandered through the various vendor tables set up, flea market style, another Southern thing, and I came across a framed 20x30, beautifully-scripted poem surrounded by artistic drawings depicting scenes of the South.
The poem was written by John Cribb titled, “Memories of a Sandlapper,” and one particular stanza coincided with thoughts of this article.
It reads: “I’ve longed for the farmland, to see again the old wooden tobacco barns, the white silk of the new corn crops, and feast on a meal of boiled peanuts, spam and grits, Lowcountry seafood.”
Turns out, I had the chance to meet the author of this touching reading when he came to our area as the Rev. John Cribb to pastor at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church on Okatie Highway from June 2001 to June 2006, where I had volunteered to serve as their pianist till better came along.
Other Southern scenes that can be seen in our Lowcountry are folks using a golf cart around the home, like recently when three generations of Tanners and pup, Sport, were spotted bringing up their seafood cache’ from the creek; or a dedicated country lady like Sylvia Underwood, proud owner of her John Deere tractor lawn mower, driving it around her yard.
Another country scene that kinda’ hit close to home was when my prized wooden swing hit the ground when I sat in it, because my grandchildrens’ outdated frame to their swing set finally rusted out and gave way. Quite a funny surprise, landing me on the ground!
Recently when having an out-of-state friend over for lunch, she was introduced to dining “Southern style” in our neck-o-the-woods. Our home has no formal dining room, just one large room that offers all the essentials for preparing and enjoying a “sit-down” meal buffet style.
Everyone, amid chatter and laughter, helps themselves to a plate from a basket of fine china labeled “Dixie,” along with napkins, silverware and a glass of Southern sweet tea before sitting down and “grace” is asked to enjoy a good meal in a warm atmosphere.
This particular meal had a little extra ‘zip’ added to it when my friend helping herself to a ladle of white acre peas from the pressure cooker scooped up the cookers ‘petcock’, that had, unbeknownst to me, fallen into the pot, along with the peas.
She asked, with a quizzical look on her face, “What’s this?”, to which I replied without skipping a beat, “Oh, that’s just the petcock. It’s a ‘Southern’ thing. We cook it along with the peas to add a little extra ‘umph’ for flavor!”
Also, in our area we relish beautiful sunrises and sunsets, to which Peggy Coons, a Rose Dhu Creek neighbor, remarked to me one evening, “A sunset on marsh grass just restores the soul.”
And I fully agree!
Jean Tanner may be reached at jstmeema@hargray.com.