Crossing the Mason-Dixon Line

The concept of a blog/article/short story regarding my change of life in regards to the casual acceptance of Southern Hospitality, after moving from NY to SC (and then to OK) has long been in the back of my mind. Tonight, as I was dozing off for the night, the story slowly merged to the front of my mind. I immediately got up and started typing- no rhyme or reason but rather more for brain storming and just letting it all pour out- I figure I can organize this all later but I have a starting point!!

 My continual thought process on this story was humor- going from the North to the South proves to be a bit challenging at the age of 19. But, as I delved deeper into the writing, it became more serious. While many of the memories made me smile (and I will get deeper into the memories and experiences when I actually write this entire thing out) I felt more like crying than laughing. South Carolina was such a significant part of my life and, despite being away for 7 years now, I still feel like it is home and ache to return. I know things have since changed, but I hope to come up with the words to describe exactly what draws me to Beaufort and why I love it, and the people, so very much.

 I know this isn’t my best written work, especially considering that is is almost 2am, but it will be by the time I am done with it!! Hope y’all enjoy.

 

Crossing the Mason-Dixon Line

     At some point in a person’s life, there is the moment of indefatigable resolution that there must be more to life than this. While I grew up plenty safeguarded in a rural section of Northern New York, where we frequently joked that the cows overpopulated the people, I knew that there had to be more beyond the confines of my fragile, insignificant existence. At 19 years old I required change. I knew that I needed to break free, perform some soul searching, and discover the real me. With little contemplation of what the future would hold, I gave away a majority of my belongings and moseyed on down I-95 towards my future. I drove through six states, crossing over the Mason-Dixon Line somewhere between Pennsylvania and West Virginia, and landed in beautiful Beaufort, South Carolina. I knew I was home at the first whiff of salt permeated air.

                I adored everything about South Carolina; whether it was the slow, Southern drawl that my ears were not accustomed to, the down-home, cooked from the soul kind of food, or just the slow, Southern way of life- I was smitten. Unfortunately, South Carolina was not quite so smitten with me.  As a loud-mouthed, quick talking Yankee with a touch of Canadian ‘eh’ and excessively white legs, I didn’t exactly blend in with the locals. I spoke wrong, I looked wrong, and I drank unsweetened tea. I was privy to an abundance of Yankee jokes and, horribly enough, was asked if I was French on more than one occasion.  Despite the badgering and being the butt of many jokes, I was not to be deterred. This was my home and these were my people- whether they knew it or not!

                As months passed, I gradually began to conform to the Southern way of life. While I still proudly claimed myself as a New Yorker, I began to talk a little slower and take life in stride. I dropped the ‘eh’ at the end of rhetorical questions, I dressed in the required capris and flip flops, and came to understand that the simple word ‘tea’ meant sweetened with enough sugar that you’ll automatically form three cavities with a single sip. In addition to all of this, my farmer’s tan became inexistent, my legs were no longer Casper the ghost white, and there was no doubt in my mind that chicken was meant to be fried and shrimp(s) were meant to be pluralized because Lord knows no one could eat just one! I was settling blissfully into an area that was so warm and beautiful that I had no doubt that heaven is it’s mirror image.

                I look back now on my fond memories with a heavy heart for I often feel that South Carolina is where I belong. So many new experiences were enjoyed and so much laughter cascaded into that salty air. If the ambiance of Beaufort isn’t enough to make a person want to stay, then the people and the activities are bound to lure you in. I smile at the thought of my first shrimping excursion, and laugh when I consider that I mastered the art. Such a plethora of memories- swimming, boating, and fishing in the ocean, the sparkles in the Broad River, Frogmore Stew and Oyster Roasts, shopping in Hilton Head, driving to Savannah, Georgia, trying my first pecan pie, THE PEOPLE…the list is endless!

                South Carolina is a symbol of my transformation from childhood to adult hood. It signifies not only my evolution of independence but also a significant alteration of my being. South Carolina is where I stepped out the box and expanded my boundaries. South Carolina is where I discovered my patriotism and the faithful service of the United States Marine Corps.  I love to say that South Carolina is a representation of my freedom but it is so much more than that. South Carolina signifies friendship for some of the strongest bonds of friendship I have yet to form have been in Beaufort. South Carolina also signifies love for this is where I met and married the love of my life.  South Carolina is where I bought my first house, adopted Colby, and gleefully drove with the t-tops off of my 1998 Z28 Camaro, with the Eagles blaring, so I could simultaneously smell the Southern air and witness the star-filled Southern sky. South Carolina was where I witnessed ‘living life’ and unadulterated happiness. For that, my heart will always, irrefutably, know Beaufort as home.

 

 

Carolina Tide Lyrics

by John Mark McMillan

 

 

Hey girl let’s go down

Wash our hands in the Carolina tide

Let’s go down and die

And come back like babies

 

Hey girl let’s go down

Wash our sins in the muddy brown wave

Wash the world away

And come back again

 

All these scarlet stains

Like the blood red clay

on the knees of our jeans

You can come out righteous if you want babe

You can come out clean

 

Hey girl drive all night

Down to the water

And live like were alive

Let our sleeping die

And roll out of these graves

 

Hey girl the water don’t know

The shore don’t care

Who you were before

We’re not them anymore

You know we’re not the same

 

All these scarlet stains

Like the blood red clay<

/p>

On the knees of our jeans

You can come out righteous if you want babe

You can come out clean

 

Hey girl lets go down

Wash our hands in the Carolina tide

Let’s go down and die

And come back like babies

 

Hey girl let’s go down

Wash our sins in the muddy brown wave

Wash the world away

And come back again