The Southern Experience

Though my impression of Saint Louis was somewhat ambivalent, my experience of the South was much more concrete.

Jesus, not Elvis, is king in the South. We were definitely in the Bible Belt. We passed countless churches along US 72 in Mississippi and almost every cross road featured signs for nearby Baptist, Methodist, or Pentecostal churches. I do not remember seeing many churches in Corinth (I was too busy trying to read the pathetic street name posts) but they were everywhere in the country. Frankly, religion seemed to be Northern Mississippi’s most profitable industry, and the contrast between the numerous, well-tended places of worship and the saddening poverty of the black community was unavoidable.

We did not encounter the full, stereotypical Southern twang until Corinth. We heard hints of it in Memphis, but Memphis is much more cosmopolitan. (Actually, I heard country drawl as far north as Bowling Green, Missouri, but that does not count. [Insert really crude comment about Missouri here.]) After leaving the city, though, our General American was definitely the exception. Having never traveled abroad, this was probably the first time I ever felt like a foreigner because of my accent.

Though the Confederacy as a country is no more, it is still very much alive in the hearts and minds of Southerners. Southern pride in the form of Confederate iconography was on display. Mississippi’s state flag uses the widely recognized Confederate battle flag and the sight of it was jarring. We also spotted a couple battle flags at Shiloh and while driving in the country. While visiting the Confederate burial trench at Shiloh, we witnessed a man remove his hat and stand in silence. Another man wore a shirt commemorating the 150th anniversary of the “War of Southern Independence,” and at the gates of the cemetery was a boy posing for pictures in a gray Confederate uniform. Generally, there seemed to be a lot more interest in the Rebel monuments and markers, and Southerners definitely outnumbered those of us from the north. Much as we were there to recognize and honor Iowa’s fallen, the Southerners were there to honor those from their home states — who just happened to be defenders of slavery. While I can appreciate Southerner’s nationalistic pride and the fact they once had their own country, I cannot overlook the fact it was all predicated on slavery. To me, everything about the Confederacy screams slavery, but I got the impression it was conveniently overlooked.

Northern Mississippi and the area around Shiloh were thickly wooded and beautiful. Also, the people were very friendly and genial — great ambassadors of Southern hospitality. Overall, I did not get the impression the South was all that different from the rest of the country except for the pseudo-nationalism, emphasis on faith, and accent. Granted, we only traveled through small portions of each state, but it looked, smelled, and felt much like rural and wooded parts of the Hawkeye State. However, we did see lasting marks of segregation. There was the poor black community of Corinth south of the tracks and what looked to be white neighborhoods and country homesteads. Memphis was especially bad as it looked like all the whites had left the inner city for the suburbs; however, much can be said of every other major American city. On the other hand, blacks and whites interacted wherever we were and on the surface it seemed skin color was a nonfactor. But I got the impression I was not getting the whole picture, that there was something I was not going to understand on such a short trip.

Needless to say, the South intrigued me. I have no clue when I will go back, but I am interested in experiencing more of it.