In Celebration of MHS Class of 1958

In Celebration of MHS Class of 1958

A Tribute and Celebration

We were the class of 1958, members of the Greatest Generation as well as children of the Greatest Generation. Born in 1940, we are also called members of the Traditional Generation.

Our childhood, post World War II, "was the best of times . . . it was the age of wisdom . . . it was the epoch of belief . . .it was the season of Light . . . it was the spring of hope . . . we had everything before us . . .we were all going direct to Heaven . . . ." (A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens.) At least, that's the way I felt about it. We were truly blessed.

- Ouida Tomlinson -

This blog is a place for 1958 graduates of Meridian, Mississippi, High School to stay in touch, post their news, items of interest and photographs.

CLASS OF 1958 MEMORIES (Click to read all posts relating to sports, honors, graduation and other memories of our class in 1957-58.)

FACEBOOK PAGE FOR CLASS OF 1958
https://www.facebook.com/groups/MHS58/

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Friday, August 8, 2008

My South

Shhhhhhhh, don't tell anyone from the north about this!!

This was written by Robert St. John, executive chef and owner of the Purple Parrot Cafe, Crescent City Grill and Mahogany Bar of Hattiesburg , MS . (Chef, Author, Restaurateur & World-Class Eater)

Thirty years ago I visited my first cousin in Virginia . While hanging out with his friend, the discussion turned to popular movies of the day. When I offered my two-cents on the authenticity and social relevance of the movie Billy Jack, one of the boys asked, in all seriousness; 'Do you guys have movie theaters down there?' To which I replied, 'Yep. We wear shoes too.'

Just three years ago, my wife and I were attending a food and wine seminar in Aspen , Colo. We were seated with two couples from Las Vegas . One of the Glitter Gulch gals was amused and downright rude when I described our restaurant as a fine-dining restaurant. ' Mississippi doesn't have fine-dining restaurants!' she insisted and nudged her companion. I fought back the strong desire to mention that she lived in the land that invented the 99-cent breakfast buffet.

I wanted badly to defend my state, my region, and my restaurant with a 15-minute soliloquy and public relations rant that would surely change her mind. It was at that precise moment that I was hit with a blinding jolt of enlightenment, and in a moment of complete and absolute clarity it dawned on me -- my South is the best-kept secret in the country. Why would I try to win this woman over? She might move down here.

This is my South: My South is full of honest, hardworking people.
My South is the birthplace of blues and jazz, and rock n' roll. It has banjo pickers and fiddle players, but it also has BB King, Muddy Waters, the Allman Brothers, Emmylou Harris and Elvis.

My South is hot. My South smells of newly mowed grass. My South was kick the can, creek swimming, cane-pole fishing and bird hunting.

In my South, football is king, and the Southeastern Conference is the kingdom.
My South is home to the most beautiful women on the planet.

In my South, soul food and country cooking are the same thing. My South is full of fig preserves, cornbread, butter beans, fried chicken, grits and catfish.

In my South, our transistor radios introduced us to the Beatles and the Rolling Stones at the same time they were introduced to the rest of the country.

In my South, grandmothers cook a big lunch every Sunday, so big that we call it dinner (supper comes later).

In my South, family matters, deeply. My South is boiled shrimp, blackberry cobbler, peach ice cream, banana pudding and oatmeal cream pies. In my South people put peanuts in bottles of Coca-Cola and hot sauce on almost everything.

In my South the tea is iced and almost as sweet as the women.
My South has air-conditioning.

My South is camellias, azaleas, wisteria and hydrangeas.

In my South, the only person that has to sit on the back of the bus is the last person that got on the bus.

In my South, people still say 'Yes, ma'am,' 'No ma'am,' 'Please' and 'Thank you.'

In my South, we all wear shoes....most of the time.

My South is the best-kept secret in the country. Please continue to keep the secret....it keeps the idiots away!

2 comments:

John Chancellor said...

Thanks for posting. Refreshing to recall what makes the South so special ... all the things we do and the people we do them with.

Martha Markline Hopkins said...

Yep...I'll live and die in Dixie.