Maybe it’s the strong sense of family or that kindred spirit we inherited from our Celtic ancestors, but have y’all ever noticed that when you are out of the Great State of Mississippi, what a good experience it is to meet up with another Mississippian? Sure, you have. I have had the privilege of visiting forty of the 50 states and parts of California. (I’m pretty sure it’s fifty. According to Barack Obama, there are fifty-four states and Joe Biden said there were fifty-seven states, but I’m sticking with fifty.) Be that as it may, a certain friendship seems to form as you meet up with another person from Mississippi when you are a long way from home. It just happens. Call it comradery, brotherhood, sisterhood or even kinship. The first thing y’all do is find out what part of the state the other is from. I proudly tell folks I’m from Union, Little Rock, Beulah Hubbard, Mississippi. The next thing is, do y’all know anybody from Union? Sooner or later, y’all will discover a common friend. Or at least a friend of a friend, etc. From there, chances are y’all will begin to talk about kin folks. What bunch of Gordons are you? I’m a Greenland Gordon. After some conversation about that, chances are you will discover that y’all are kin way down the line. If nothing else, y’all are kin to someone who is kin to one of your cousins. If not, you say you are anyway. It’s a Southern thing. It would be impolite and downright snobby to deny at least the possibility of kinship. Yankees would never understand the kinship thing. Another way y’all can tell a person is from the South, not just Mississippi, is he has a last name. Yankees have no last names. Just John or Harvey or whatever. You don’t even have to meet and have a conversation for that comradery to emerge.
The Lovely and Gracious Pat and I were just east of Knoxville on our way to Gatlinburg a couple of years ago. The traffic was lite for that stretch of highway. I spotted a white vehicle in my rearview mirror. I was doing 70 maybe 75 mph and this white vehicle was gaining ground pretty fast. Turned out to be a Chevy Suburban. Must have had a dozen young’uns packed in it. Every one of them waving and the driver tooted his horn a couple of times. Sure enough, it was bearing a Newton County, Mississippi tag. I suspect they spotted my Newton County tag and that Mississippi comradery kicked in at 80 mph. No doubt they were kin somewhere along the way.
There are a lot of reasons to feel good about being from Mississippi. That feeling of kinship with a total stranger you run up on in California who is from Mississippi is just one of them. Another good feeling about seeing another Mississippian in a faraway place is, it’s just good to hear another person use the word, “y’all.”
Ralph Gordon Past President, Mississippi Writers Guild
Ralph Gordon is a Past President Mississippi Writers Guild and a recipient of the William Faulkner Literary Award. You may contact Ralph Gordon at rgordon512@hotmail.com or 601-686-0174.
