A visiting pastor from Ohio told this story to our congregation of East Tennessee Presbyterians. The pastor, who found Southern ways strange and accents almost incomprehensible, had found himself transplanted to Tennessee, and he often used examples of his confusion over all things Southern as illustrations in his sermons. He sometimes referred to the place where he’d found himself as the “Deep South.”
Finally, after one of many such references had been made from the pulpit, an old man from Mississippi who had been transplanted to East Tennessee himself to live with his daughter and her family (and apparently was none too happy about it), went to the pastor after the day’s service.
The Mississippian said to the pastor, “Suh, you often refer to Tennessee as the Deep South. Tennessee is not the Deep South. Tennessee is not the South. Tennessee is not even the beginning of the South. Suh, Tennessee is the bottom of the Nawth!”
Many Tennesseans would take umbrage at the old man’s opinion. And they’d be (partly) right.
In my view, the Deep South consists of Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina. I think that most Southerners would agree with that assessment. When non-Southerners (from here on known as “Yankees”) ask about Florida—because of its position south of the Deep South, Southerners sigh (some might even gasp) because everyone in the South knows that Florida is not a Southern state. The truth of it, though, is that parts of northern Florida are the South (mostly the inland parts). But everyone knows that once you get south of Tallahassee, Florida’s population is made up almost entirely of transplanted Yankees (in central Florida) and Latinos (in southern Florida. The Sunshine State may be southern, but it is not the South.
From here on out, though, deciding which states are Southern is a matter of opinion—often expressed quite loudly over beer (or Jack Daniels, or Maker's Mark, or moonshine, or any number of other "refreshments," depending on the origin of the opinion holder). Typically, I’d say that other Southern states include North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Louisiana (though we’re not too sure about those Cajuns, who originated in Canada and they don't "talk right"), and perhaps all or parts of Arkansas. Far Eastern Texas has some Southern traits, probably because of all of the Tennesseans who have populated that state from its earliest days. Having lived in Texas, among Texans, I’d have to say that Texas is not Southern, and it’s really not even Southwestern. Texas is Texas. That is all. It is an entity unto itself, and I’ve never been anywhere like it or known people quite as peculiar as Texans. I mean “peculiar” in the good sense. (If there is one.)
You may have noticed that I’ve left out a couple of states. The most glaring of my omissions is the seminal state of Virginia. First among the colonies, definitely south of the Mason-Dixon line (as is Maryland, by the way), and motherland to Robert E. Lee, as well as many of the other leaders of the Confederacy. I think that Virginia gets into the South based on that history and for its grace and charm. But even we in Tennessee find Virginia a little suspect because of its proximity to the North.
What does one do with West Virginia, then? Well, really, who cares? I’ve been through the state several times and never seen a soul. I hear that they’re there, lurking suspiciously in the hills, ready to shoot any “furriners” who come poking their noses where they don’t belong. Anyway, most West Virginians can’t read this blog anyway. Not just because they’re illiterate. It’s also because they don’t yet have the Internet there. So, let’s move on to more interesting matters.
Kentucky, though—like Virginia—dangerously close to the North, is also Southern. Let’s look at the facts: they fought on the Confederate side of the War, they raise horses, and they make bourbon. Plus, they produced Colonel Harlan Sanders, founder of KFC. Sounds like the South to me.
This brings me back to Tennessee. Why did our old man from Mississippi disparage my fair state as being the “bottom of the North”? (And, yes, I very much believe that he meant a double entendre there.) Tennessee fought with the Confederacy, raises horses, and makes bourbon (Jack Daniels, no less). In addition, Tennessee is home to Music City—Nashville—the Country Music capital of the world. What could be more Southern? We share far more characteristics—in geography, history, food, language, and culture—with the rest of the South than we do with the North.
Except for East Tennessee, which, in politics and history could easily be every bit as Yankee as central Florida. Middle and West Tennessee are pretty solidly Southern. And they often shake their heads in embarrassment over the sad, sordid history of the eastern part of their state. Tennessee was the last state to join the Confederacy, and the first to withdraw from it. Pro-Union East Tennessee was the part of the state that held the rest back. Once Tennessee was in the Confederacy, East Tennessee continued to make life difficult by continuing to be pro-Union, harboring Union military men and funding the Union causes. Of course, many men from every Southern state joined the Union cause. As is often said, the Civil War divided families, pitting, quite literally, brother against brother. But East Tennessee remained a bastion of Union support surrounded by a hostile and seething Confederacy. They’ve never quite forgiven us for that.
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