A Trip Down Memory Lane and Southern Traditions

I just returned from a family funeral in South Carolina. It was a sad occasion but it warmed my heart. I’m so glad that traditions still exist in small town USA.

The rural church was packed. My brother in law was loved by so many. He had been in the ministry, in various churches, for many years. His congregants were there to bid him farewell. The stories were amazing of how he had lead many to the Lord. The music was unbelievable. I had forgotten how much I missed the old traditional hymns.

The burial site was 40 miles from the church where the service was held. We passed through several small towns. We had a police escort, lights flashing, all the way. One car leading in front and one in the rear. We were the last car in the procession.  My husband jokingly said,  “I can see the headline now. A car bearing the tag NC Senate #8 was seen in South Carolina being chased by law enforcement for 40 miles and it never stopped.”

As we passed through each small town, a police or sheriffs car was at every intersection stopping traffic and the officer was saluting or holding his hat over his heart as the procession went through. It was such a respectful gesture.

Along the route, cars pulled over to the side of the road as we passed. There were only a few that drove on past us. My husband said, “Those are the Yankees that have moved down here. They don’t know Southern Traditions.” (He knows since he moved here from New York.)

This trip took me back to my childhood of those little country churches where everybody knew everybody. When a tragedy happened, the entire community was there to comfort and offer whatever assistance was needed. 

We were very poor. You’ve heard me say our little shanty had walls so thin you could overhear sign language. We didn’t have indoor plumbing until we moved to North Carolina when I started High school. But, yes, we still heard the stories about eating your food because poor children were starving in China. I always wondered how my eating food would feed children far away. We never realized we were poor though and thought that was only children in China.

The legendary American Author O. Henry once wrote, “You can’t appreciate home till you’ve left it, money till it’s spent, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.”

I was reminded of that when we drove through my little hometown and the areas where I lived. My family never owned a home and we moved a lot. All those little shacks were torn down long ago, but I remember every one of them. I must say I don’t miss much of that, other than the wonderful traditions.

When I was a child, we traveled to Greensboro occasionally to visit my mother’s family. We passed the beautiful Ellerbe Springs in Richmond County. There were big parties going on there often. I would imagine I was one of those ladies, dressed in beautiful dresses, celebrating an event. 

My husband and I passed that Inn many times through the years. Finally I shared that story with him a few years ago. He was shocked that I had never told him. Of course, he took me there for dinner shortly after. It had changed a lot and the memory was much better than the reality. Then I was invited there to speak to a large group and the people were “real folks.” I enjoyed meeting them all. My dreams of Ellerbe Springs were complete.

You know the saying, “Love to visit, but wouldn’t want to live there.” I can certainly relate to that. I enjoy visiting my old childhood places and remembering those days, but I love where I am right now.

I’m so thankful that I live in a country where my beginning doesn’t determine my end. It matters not where you start in life, you can still finish way ahead. Only in America could a poor girl like me rise to Blessings that I could never have imagined. 

God is so good.