Acknow1edgements My debt is 甼℃ at indeed to the many people and institutions whO have assisted me in the planning and pro- duction of this book. No successful project that covers this much territory over such a long periOd Of time can be the product of a solitary effort. I am very much obliged to B0b and Lee Anderson for their thoughts on the structure of the book and in helping to select the author. I am also grateful to Oliver and Lisa Houck for their enthusi- astic help in planning my coverage 0f their region and for giving me shelter when needed. I am deeply indebted to Dick Durrance Ⅱ and Steve Uzzell III for their tireless editorial assistance and strong personal support. I was also very fortunate tO have the assistance ofMark Schifrin, who gave so much ofhimself when it was needed most. My deep gratitude goes to the Citizens and Southern Banks, a financial institution with roots fnmly planted in Southern soil and with an abiding appreciation ofthe South and the people who live and work there. Their initialinterest led tO a gener- ous gmantwhich makes this b00k possible. I was pleased and honored to work closely with the C&S staff in several states. A very special thank you goes tO John Haynie,Jr., and to Enoch Prow, as well as tO 、 lr. Bennett Brown who is chairman of C&S for their trust in my ViS1()Il and their 、 Of encourage- ment along the way. 128 A special word of thanks goes to the National Geogmaphic Society and to Bill Garrett, editor, for their permission tO use some Of the images I produced on earlier assignments for them south Of the Mason-Dixon line. Along the way I was supported by many people who gave graciously 0f their time energy, and knowledge. I would like to give a very special thanks to Orissa Arend andJohn Schenken, Ben Chapman, Ron Comedy, Dana Contratto,John Crawford and Kathy Sakas, Ralph and Nonnie Daniel, Kim Davidson Jacques DePuy, Scott and Beth Glass, Critt Graham, Greg and Bubbles Guirard, Panos Kammenos, Rob Kennedy, Sue Lyons and Mark Lyons,Jorge Mom, Dick andJoy ℃ e Murlless and the wonder- ful staffat Wilderness Southeast, David Pemson and Chris Pemson, Wallace Sfi ℃ et, CharIes C. WiIkes, Patricia Young of the Delta Queen Steamship Company, and the many Others. 、 ly tWO assistants during the pro- duction phases were Peter Ⅵ第 andJ0hn MuIIin. As the miles and days went by, they supported me with their good ideas, strong backs, and high energy Without the support and friendship 0fPeter and John, I could never have hoped to cover SO much in SO little time. When all the photos were made and it came time tO design the bOOk, I relied entirely on the extraordinary good taste and fine design 0fBob Cargill and Art Riser ofCargill and Associates, lnc. in Atlanta. Bob, Art, and their talented staff, especially Pam Ei レ en, performed the delicate task of designing the book with consummate skill, remarkable patience, and old-fashioned gracious- ness. I shall long be in their debt. A very special debt must be acknowl- edged to my office manager and col- lea 鵐 Shelley Yerman, who kept the fort going in my long absences and did a yeoman'sJ0b on all the necessary typ- ing and collecting 0f the b00k parts. My hat is also off toJean Andrews ofGraphic Arts Center Publishing Company for her outstanding editing and organizational efforts. Her superior command of the English language as well as her long suffering patience made her efforts critical tO the book's success. Doug Pfeiffer, my editor at Graphic Arts Center Publishing Company, has proven to be an excellent b00k producer. His suggestions were always right on the mark. lt was a pleasure tO get tO know and tO work withJohn Egerton, the sensitive and insightful writer 0f the literary side of the book. He responded to the pres- sures and tight deadlines with special grace and silent determination during a difficult time ofhis ⅱ . I am honored to share these pages with him. Last, but perhaps most important, I say a special thanks t0 my wife, Prisca, my son, Will, and my daughter, Prisca. As the days became weeks and then months, it has been their special sense of togetherness and purpose that has unified us all. They were often with me on the road, and when not physically so, their love and spirit sustained me. ー召襯 We 翩Ⅳ

there is at once a subtle distinguishing quality that can be heard 斤 om one loca- tion tO another—and at the same time a general style and substance that marks the speakers as Southerners. Eventually, inevitably, the powerful currents Of contemporary culture may erase the most salient features Of region- alism ⅲ this diverse land—but if and when that happens, the South and its people may be the last t0 give up their claims tO distinction. Who are the Southerners? Whoever is self-consciously, self-confidently, self- evidently so; whoever claims the title and affirms the description; whoever bears the signs. With a feeling ofcomfort and a sense ofbelongmg, the people ofthe South return tlme and time agam tO their chO- sen land and to the familiar places ofli and work that ⅱⅡ their dreams and stir their memories. In ceremonial circles, they gather andjoin hands with those who never left, the sons and daughters whose stewardship ofthe land, ofthe homeplace, and ofthe workplace has been continuous. With all their human diversity and variety, they are nonetheless one, united by history and myth and the overpowermg presence Oftheir place earth. One and all, once and always, they are the Southerners. Opposite page: んわ〃 4 ハ / 勧の〃仏 72

ln the South, the sights and sounds that trigger recollection and the sensa- tions Of smell and taste and touch that stir the memory are deeply rooted in the land and in nature. A sunrise in the Smokies, a sunset on the Gulf, a full moon over the Atlantic—these are dramatic images that never lose their power t0 inspire. The hushed whisper of the wind in the pines, the symphony of birdsong at daybreak, the soothing rush and tinkle ofa cold mountain stream—these are sounds that no Southern nature lover ever tlres ()f hearing. The heady fragrance of orange blossoms, thejuicy sweetness of a ripe peach, the gentle softness of beach sand sifting through the fingers—these are sensuous pleasures that no amount Of repetition can dull. Out of the hard red clay of the hill country, the sandy loam of the coastal lowlands, and the rich black alluvial soil of the deltas, generations of Southern- ers have harvested abundant quantities 0f seasonal produce—spring asparagus and strawberries and bibb lettuce, sum- mer sweet corn and field peas and tomatoes, fall apples and peanuts and pecans, winter citrus and turnip greens and collards. For beauty and fragrance, there is a perpetual showcase of blos- soms that seem almost synonymous with the South: dogwoods and azaleas, camellias and magnolias, wisteria and crepe myrtle, and rhododendron and mountain laurel. The anclent sentinels are gone from the forests, but younger stands of hardwoods and evergr ℃ ens have rlsen in their place, dense enough in S01 蝨 e bosky precincts tO blOt out the summer sun. The diverse plenitude Of hickory and ash and oak, maple and poplar and gum, locust and beech, and countless others fllls the autumn woods with fiery blazes of color. NO one can decipher the mystical rhythms of the calendar; like ocean cur- rents, the seasons move according tO their own unseen clock, bringing with them flood and drought, fire and ice, hurricanes, tornadoes, and heat waves. Against such power there is no defense, only grudging compliance. Southern stewards of the land know the futility Of resistance; they can only wait on the weather, bending with its winds or bow- ing tO its soaking rains and scorching sunshine—understanding all the while that only time can balance the ever- turning wheel Of deliverance. And the land remains, always the land. lnstitutions rise and fall, people come and go, the weather constantly changes, but the land holds on. lt is the literal and figurative ground of South- ern life, the bedrock of Southern being. Some unthinking tenants may assault it with blight and pollution—contaminate its soils, burn its forests, stain its healing waters with refuse, fill the air above it with noxlous poisons—but the land survives. lt was here before the ancestors of Tecumseh and Sequoyah arrived, and from every indication, it will be present still when the human parade has run ltS course. 、リ A 切 C の 0 防乢 厖〃市れ g 矼 Deals Ga. カ , Opposite page: C ん 初 C の祝わ乢 G 川れ砌ん M 襯〃氿 This page : ん 0 〃市 0 れ , 1

Addresses change, and so do ways of living; old domestic habits must yield tO new neceSSlt1eS, preferences. There was a time not so long ago when families sat down together to eat two or three meals a day, but that is an anach- ronism no 、 V.. other activities rangmg 斤 om religlon and education to shopping and entertainment have been equally as affected, as Southern society moves to 01e threshold ofthe twenty-first century. StiII, in the homeplaces themselves, tradition IS as ever-present and visible as a member of the family, and contempo- rary living is accented by daily remem- brance of things past. Now, as always, signs of the real South, the good South, come shining through: human comedy and drama, words and music, 応 od and drink, manners rituals, friends, birth and marriage, death and burial. lt is in the homeplace, as much as anywhere else, that Southern history is told, remembered, preserved, and sometimes made. The land and the homeplace are extensions ()f ()ther, permanently and inseparably linked. ln the frame house, the mansron, the cabin, Southerners cling to myth and history, and sometimes the two seem virtually identical. The Southern homeplace—city, town, and country— is both a repository of the past and a seedbed of the future. The connection between the two was one ofWilliam FauIkner's central themes. 、、 ln the South', he once said, 'the past is never dead. lt's not even past: ()pposite page: C んカ燗 S 甲鷓 S 〃襯ん , Georgia. 100

The People tured the people in clear-cut terms Of white and black. lndeed, Ang10-Saxons and Afi 、 o-Americans dO comprise the tWO largest segments Of the population, as they always have, but there are other nationalities and ethnic 部、 oups whose presence has been clearly visible and whose influence is still lt. The imprint ofthe Spanish in Florida and the French in Louisiana is primary and indelible. The German heritage ⅲ North Carolina and Kentucky has been substantial, too, and the same can be said ofthe ltalians and Greeks in several ofthe Southern states. East Europeans have been less numerous, but they still have made Who are the Southerners? RomantlC novels and m()VleS and television have projected a long line 0f stereotyped images in answer tO the question. Out Of the antebellum era came goateed plantation colonels, fluttering ladies in crinolines, and happy slaves sing- ing in the cotton fields. ln modern times, a different but no less banal and artificial cast ofcharacters has been featured: dim- witted hillbillies and mountaineers, red- neck sheriffs, sweet-vo iced b eauty queens, and tobacco-chewing good old boys. Reality brings a much broader and deeper array of people into focus—not distorted, one-dimensl()nal caricatures, but a congeries of humanity T0day's Southerners range across the spectrum Of age, race, residence, occupation, and lncome. They are men and women, native- born and adopted, whO sometimes seem as different fi 、 0n1 one another as they are unlike people elsewhere—and yet, at the same time, many ofthem have in com- mon certain manners and habits, certam ways ofspeaking, and certain traits 0f personality that mark them unmistakably as Southerners. lt is both their differences and their similarities that make them interesting. The people of the South often stand apart 仕 om their Ⅱ ow Americans— more markedly, perhaps, than do North- erners or Easterners or Westerners. For better and worse, through generations Of fabricated images and stark realities, Southerners somehow have managed tO preserve remnants Oftheir reglonal iden- tity as individuals and as a people, ⅲ spite ofthe gradual emergence ofa look-alike culture across the nation as a whole. Within the region, the simple fact of diversity is a myth-shattering surprise tO many non-Southerners whO have pic- 24 衵 Pages 66 / 67 : D 尾、 C ん矼 / 召豆 0 れ , 、 So 襯ん C 0 / わ乢 Opposite page: ん”雇ハイの・な 〃 g ん , 初プん C 〃川 / わ乢 This page: 4 / いマ “んな化沢イ Race, 69

The Homeplace A white frame country farmhouse sits securely harbored in the lee 0f a ridge 0f densely wooded hills. lts dark green shutters match the color Of the painted tin roof. A wisp ofblue-gr 、 ay smoke curls 仕 0n1 the stone chimney, spiraling slowly into the canopy 0f over- hangmg maples. From the front porch, the view IS eastward across a broad field of hay, newly cut and baled. A dusty lane approaches the house circuitously, skirting the field and bordering on its opposite side a split rail fence and a woodlot, dark and quiet in the gather- ing dusk. The smell 0f hay and hickory smoke hangs in the air, pungent and familiar. An old dog trots forward t0 the edge of the yard t0 deliver a tail-waggmg welcome, its bark like a fi 、 iendly voice from the past. Across the length of the porch, the windows and front door throw out warm beams Of mellow light. VOices and laughter float out intO the evening air, echoing softly. Home—coming back to the known, the comfortable, the safe, the secure—is an experience and a feeling Of universal dimensions. AII through history, around the world, people have been drawn by the magnetizing power of home. ln the South, that power is reinforced by many influences—the prlmary lmportance of tradition and history, the binding ties of family relationships, the respect accorded tO spiritual and social author- ity, the widely practiced and highly valued art of storytelling, the love of land, and the sense of place. Regardless Of age, sex, race, or econom1C status, Southerners seldom can be indifferent to the feelings of duty, respect, kinship, and continuity that attach themselves to the image and reality of home. Pages 92 / 93 : ハわの 0 れ 加襯孕化怩 Crag S 切 , V の〃厖 Pages 94 / 95 : , 4 〃れ衂 Ge01 仏 Opposite page: 沢れ / カ 0 立研 47g0 , Ken 々花い The look of it is as diverse and var- ied in the mind's eye as are the people WhO summon it tO remembrance. The country farmhouse is but one lmage among many: an antebellum mansl()n, a cabin in the woods, a weather-beaten coastal cottage, a bungalow on a shady small-town street, an urban town house, a surburban ro 、 house, a City apart- ment, a prefab, a mobile home—so many styles, and all 0f them with fea- tures duplicated elsewhere. lt is not architecture that makes homeplaces ln the South so distinctive, not physical characterist1CS or decoratlons or antiq- uity; rather, it is something in the mind and heart, something emotional. Families, churches, schools, and towns periodically throw themselves intO festive gatherings Of their returning sons and daughters•, in one recent year, an entlre state, Tennessee, focused an abundance Of time, money, and energy on a year-long homecoming celebration in which tens ofthousands ofpeople took part. Whatever it is that makes Southern- ers, religlous or not, sing along t0 the strains of"Will the Circle Be Unbroken? ” is also the force that beckons them back to their roots for periodic renewals ofthe faith and the promise. ln cities and towns or in the country, fi 、 0n1 the mountains and hills to the bottomlands and the sea, home in the Southern experience IS a fundamental feeling, a state ofmind. 97

い 0 は 0 の き 000 0 manufacturers, shipbuilders, chemical companies, and the like. Of all the areas of work and play to hold the attention of Southerners past and present, probably none could be thought Of as more representative or symbolic of the regional character than music. AS a bridge between the tradi- tional and the contemporary, between the hands, the heart, and the head, music spans the many avenues 0fSouthern feel- ing and expression. The vocal and instru- mental music of the South is a reglonal treasure combining many skills—story- telling, songwriting, instrument making, and performing. lt is creative art, it is work—and it is, quiteliterally, play. lt has been embedded in the soulofthe South for longer than anyone can remember, longer than thel ℃ has been a South, and it iS as diverse and as singular as the people themselves. ln lndian culttll ℃ s, music played an important ceremonial role. Then the field songs of the slaves gave rise to the first indigenous American art form: the blues. Gospel muSIC was born ⅲ South- ern churches. Folk, country, and blue- grass muSIC originated in the hills 0f Virginia and North Carolina, Kentucky 0 0 0 ) 0 0 ノ 0 C 》 0 0 and meat 仕 0n1 them all. Pets, particu- larly dogs and cats, have always been highly visible and important in South- ern households. As for wild animals, hunters and fishermen have pursued them avidly throughout the centuries of habitation in the region. Even now, it is not unheard 0f for a company in the South to give workers a day off on the first day of a hunting season. Some traditional occupations dO remain, Of course. Farming, for all itS tribulations ln recent times, is still a major industry in every Southern state, and the agricultural support enter- prises, including everything 斤 om seed companies tO farm implement distribu- tors, are also substantial. The hands are still important, tOO, in the arts and crafts, in furniture making, in the diver- sified fishing businesses, and in the heavy industries that have come intO the regl()n ln recent years—automotive 51

Close to sixty million people now live in the eleven Southern states framed by Virgmia and Kentucky on the north and by Arkansas and Louisiana on the west. Until the end ofWorld War Ⅱ , when the population was only halfas large as it is now, a substantial majority ofthe people lived in small towns or in the countryside. NO cities Ofa million residents existed in the regl()n, and only one or tWO were even halfthat Iarge.T0day, Atlanta leads five Southern metropolises in the million-plus class, and about twenty cities in the reglOn have a half-million or more residents. Fully one-fourth ofthe hundred largest cities in the nauon are in the eles ℃ n Southern states. lnjust a little more than a genera- tion, the South has been converted 仕 01 a rural tO a predominantly urban culture, and urbanization has made the region seem 1 れ ore uniform, more like the rest Of the country. But the cities still retain some vestiges Ofa recognizable Southern char- acter, and they 記 so differ significantly one 仕 01 another. Mere menüon ofabout three dozen underscores the POint. Age and geography account for much Of the variety.. The ocean cities have been here the longest, Of course—・ St. Augustine (the oldest), Savannah, Charleston, Wilmington, Norfolk—and they have about them a 100k and feel of イ・・ . をま 3 イ 4 ageless grace. Pensacola and M0bile reflect the same charm in their outward facing toward the Gulf of Mexico. The younger cities 0f Tampa and St. Peters- burg on the west coast 0fFlorida, along withJacksonville on the east, also 100k tO the sea. New OrIeans gets much of its per- sonality 什 om its status as bOth a seaport and a river city.. lnland, the river ports of Baton Rouge and Memphis on the Mississippi, Louisville on the Ohio, Nashville on the Cumberland, and Richmond on theJames all can trace long histories of growth up 仕 om the waterfront. Rivers are also important tO the geography and history 0fLittle Rock, Chattanooga, Knoxville, and Columbia, but other physical features—hills, moun- tains, and plains—seem somehow closer to their nature. Asheville and Roanoke are truly mountain cities, while several Others ・—Lexington and Birmingham, Greenville and Spartanburg, Greensboro and Winston-Salem—circle the moun- tain periphery. This page: wo Or れ P れ〃 0 れれ召〃 r Ⅳ〃襯 g れ , 初 C 0 / わ . Opposite page: Po 尾んか C んの / 0 れ , 立襯ん C の況わ 98

The Workplace 召 00 , No ん C 0 Nf 勧 Co 襯襯り page: イれ襯例 , C 0 瓰 Opposite 襯 0 れ , Pa 襯〃 co 沢んグ No ん Pages 46 / 47 : E ん engaged a large majority ofthe people. agriculture and related occupations they used t0 be, back in the days when query are much 1 蝨 ore varied now than What do they do? The answers to the last are your people? Where are they 仕 om ? ingly familiar: What is your name? Who tions a native puts tO a stranger are tell- rural areas and small towns. The ques- people most clearly, especially in the that describes and defines Southern genealogy and the geography—it is work After name and address—the society on the land. it took—and still takes—to make a these old hands that reveal the labor appearance, a modern character, it iS Now, as the South takes on a different South, explored it, farmed it, built it. They are the hands that found the hug, as expressive as an honest face. as a clenched fist, as SOft as a consoling working people. They can be as solid These are the hands of hard- like chapters ofan autobiography. on display to be read like an open book, creases oflengthening üme—all are there bat with tools and machines, the folds and long experience, 山 e 」 agged scars 0f com- and strength The nimble adroitness 0f dirt beneath the nails, they bespeak power thick, whether neatly mamcured or with Whether long and sinewy or short and shades ofebony and pecan and peach. work gloves. They range in color through but also supple, like good leather sun, they show themselves to be tough ered by wind and water, by earth and Their hands tell the story. Weath- What Southerners do today is very much the same as what Americans else- where do. The work is as much cerebral as it IS manual, as much on paper, C01 - puter screens, or television monitors as it is outdoors on the land, SO the hands no longer tell the story as they once did. But in the long evolution 0fSouthern labor 仕 om the prehistoric fishing, hunt- ing, and farming skills 0f the lndians to the futuristic marvel of high tech- nology that now iS becoming a routine fixture in the workplace, there always has been a certain style or quality or character, a certain attitude, that seems to typify the way people in the regl()n go about their business. ltmight be an over- statement tO say there is such a thing as a distinct and definable Southern work ethic, but there are certainly habits and practices that working people in this cor- ner ofthe country have followed for a very long time. From the beginning, the work itself was arduous, back-breaking, and inter- minable. Clearing the land and farming it, building the towns and cities, raising the children, feeding and caring for the 49

Born in AtIanta, Georg1a, in 1943 , Bill spent his early years in Georgla, and after a briefstay in the Mid ・ west, went back to Raleigh, North Carolina, for his high school and college at the University 0fNorth Carolina in Chapel Hill. He has also lived in Charleston, South Carolina, where his son,Will, was born. Bill, who holds an M. A. in international economics and law from theJ0hns Hopkins School ofAdvanced lnternational Studies, has worked as a foreign policy analyst, a leglslative assistant tO a United States senator, a Navy ph() ・ tographer, and a TV cameraman. He became a professional free-lance photographer in 1975 and since then, his work has appeared in 加われ記 Geq んな , Geo, r おわ V , S 夜んんわ and many other national maga ・ zines and newspapers. His photographs have also been used by the Associated Press, UPI, and CBS TeIevision. He is a frequent contribu ・ tor t0 b00ks and multi ・ media shows. His ph0 [ 0 ・ graphs have been included in shows atthe Kennedy Center and other galleries in the Washington, D.C. , area. Bill's first self-published book, Ge01 仏・ The 〃 0 ど , completely sold out allcopies and won two New York Art Direc- tor's Club Awards. Other recent books by BilI are lVIaD'land, スし v 藐り辺″ , andDeBordieu, a photographic essay 0f a sea island. An enthusiastic teacher, he iS a regular instructor at thé Maine Ph0tographic Work- shops and 0ther workshops across the country. HiS classes specialize in the creative use Of C010r pho [ 0 ph メ Cunently, although he specializes in corporate and advertising photography, he still manages tO dO some editorial work. BiIIIives in Washington, D. C. , with his wife, Prisca Crettier, his 19 ・ year ・ 01d son, WiIl, and his 16-year ・ 01d daughter, Prisca. タ 一一一 IIOZZA Å(I 三 ( 上 ( 一 ゞ John Egerton, a lifelong Southerner, iS a freelance journalist and author whose writing over the past twenty-five years has been focused primarily on people and events in his 0. native region. HiS bO()kS incIudeA M わ記 & 〃催 4 The ハ襯夜を側た襯あれ研 D N / ル〃厄・ T / IQ ぉ研 7ivo C 〃ぉ , G 催襯 and Sot 襯旧ん . He lives now in Tennessee. 0