The South Will Rise Again

In the words of the Southern White Supremecist, Vice President, and Senator John C. Calhoun, "The surrender of life is nothing to sinking down into acknowledgment of inferiority." These sentiments have resonated all the way from the lyrics of Lynyrd Skynyrd to the modern caste system of Charleston. What does all this mean to us as freedom loving Americans? It means that Southern roots run awwwwfully deep, and though the South may have lost, they ain't about to admit defeat. And without the fact that slavery is morally reprehensible in every way, it's hard to argue with the Southern lifestyle. Anyone who's quick to think that Southerners are backwoods bumpkins have obviously never been to Charleston, South Carolina.



With visions of magnolias and Spanish moss in our heads we proceeded to roam through "the Lowlans" while sippin mint juleps and perfecting our distinguished southern snarl. We were blessed with a refreshing break at the Evangelista's Virginia spread, complete with Boggle, Beaches, Bullets, Bocce, and Bella.





Any visit to the Virginia Beach wouldn't be complete without seeing Drew. Here he offers his mug to an inspirational WWII poster.


Plantation life was followed by our own "March to the Sea" (see US History/Civil War/Sherman) straight thru Charleston, all the way to Savannah, GA. Tara may have burned but I'll be damned if ole Dixie ain't still alive in some of the purtiest places in the US. Foggy graveyards, classsic architecture, and jovial folk paved the cobblestone riverside streets.






Of all the comforts of the South, none even came close to Jestine's sumptuous soulfood in Charleston. We ate fried chicken, collard greens, fried okra, crabcakes and the best fried green tomatoes and coconut creme pie I will ever have in my life. The food was so good it would even make Kathy Bates eat her heart out....after she finishes her side of hog.


Oh yeah and Rachel would kill me if I didnt give a shout out to Chewy, the raddest kitty cat in Wilmington.


-JJ