They say Southern Belles don't keep well in this New Jersey rain and climate. True, my pea coat and knee high leather boots serve me well as the Northern temperatures plummet but to be honest, they only gather dust on my long-forgotten hat and glove Christmas sets in my Alabama closet. Last week I left them both in the shelter of my Princeton closet in order to return to my hometown for a week of southern hospitality, country cookin' and culture — oh the culture.
I packed lightly, said my goodbyes, and before I knew it I had made my connection in Cincinnati and found myself in a glorified crop duster with seats headed for Huntsville, Alabama. After counting the eight of us to make sure we were all on the plane, the flight attendant began her spiel demonstrating seat belt buckles while the rest of us wondered where on earth the flotation rafts could possibly be stored in this stripped down '84 model that Boeing forgot. She reached the line in which most attendants ask for exit row passengers to come forward if they have concerns about their requirements. Instead, Lindi pulled her microphone away, leaned into the aisle and yelled, "Row 8, y'all ok?" My seatmate Tim and I waved — away we went. Sweet Home, Alabama.
Sixty drunken men welcomed me home as I stepped off the plane and into a bar with my mom to catch the end of the Alabama-Tennessee football game. My dad and brother didn't even make it to the airport: "Ashley, I'd love to come with your mom to pick you up, but honey it's the game . . . " College football knows no flight schedule.
The experience really began the next day after a rousing argument by my Baptist minister when my mom proclaimed that she'd planned a day packed with the most culturally enriching experiences to be found in a 150 cow radius. Doubtful, as the Dance Ranch is closed on Sundays, I figured, "Why not?"
"Why not?" left me standing in the midst of a Civil War Reenactment complete with infantry, cavalry and "kinfolk." After the ever-surprising Northern victory, a disheartened South packed up their Memphis cannons and prepared to retreat until next year. Curious, my mom and I approached one "Senior Cannoneer" and inquired of his role. Proudly my mother stated, "Ashley goes to Princeton and is enrolled in McPherson's Civil War class." The man stopped loading the cannon, turned to us, removed his hat and looking at me said, "Well then. You can just tell Mr. McPherson that he is damn wrong. And there's a man in Alabama who would love to talk to him about it."
One "Freeman's Battery Forrest's Artillery Sons of the Confederacy" business card and four ear-fulls of McPherson's "skewed views" later, we were off again.
Our next endeavor led us back in time to the city for which my town is named, Florence. Sister-city to the Renaissance capital of the world, though Italy has never claimed us, Florence hosts a Faire each year exhibiting great examples of Italian culture including jousting, storytellers, and of course, a full-costumed Lady selling funnel cakes and peanuts. The culmination of our connection came in what was known as "The Great Mayor Swap" in which the head of Florence, Alabama headed to Italy for a week to experience art, architecture and culture while the leader of Florence, Italy was able to experience Moo-Moo's Steaks and Shakes and hunt for snipes. It hardly seemed fair.
Throughout the week, I was reminded of the wonders of the South including the $28 top-of-the-line salon haircuts. The real shock came the Friday before I returned to Princeton when my six best girl friends from high school got together for a little fencepost gossip. All 19, all sophomores, yet I sat at a table talking to one's fiancee while examining the glowing rock on her finger and talked to two more about their serious "impending engagement" relationships as our married classmate served us coffee. Her child is due in May. Suddenly my town of 30,000 seemed much smaller.
That night over wedding books and material swatches, I remembered why I love the South. It's not merely the culture, nor the people but rather the flavor.
Now as I sit in my dorm room again embarking on the journey of higher learning that seems to only result in the destruction of my little "relative miracles" such as calculus and physics, and I am left only with the memory of the cry of the rebel yell and the smell of home cookin' to warm my heart.
It's not that New Jersey doesn't have culture. I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying that it's a little hard to recognize when combined with the haze from the general Trenton area. And besides, who up here would practically challenge James McPherson, renowned Civil War scholar, to 20 paces at dawn. "Here's the card. You tell him: anytime, anywhere . . . Man needs a talkin' to." A modern day duel, well, assumedly "modern day" until I turned his business card over: "WANTED: Original U.S. And Confederate CANNON And Related Artillery Equipment."
So Mr. McPherson, if you're reading, perhaps a little PR is necessary for your Southern readers. No really, they'd love to talk to you. I've got his number right here . . . call anytime and ask for Gunter, Senior Cannoneer. Ashley Johnson is from Florence, Ala. She can be reached at ajohnson@princeton.edu.
Read More
Calls for VP Calhoun's resignation mislead on free expression
Bill Hewitt“In joining a letter so firmly based on a questionable factual narrative, some 10 percent of Princeton faculty have rushed to condemn Vice President Calhoun for a “lie” and to demand her ouster.”
“In joining a letter so firmly based on a questionable factual narrative, some 10 percent of Princeton faculty have rushed to condemn Vice President Calhoun for a “lie” and to demand her ouster.”
Deciding disciplinary matters by popular vote of the faculty sets a harmful precedent
Jonathan Mummolo"In short, fairness demands that all members of the Princeton community be subject to a common set of rules and procedures. We are all meant to be granted equal protection under these rules. Our established procedures for disciplinary matters do not call for a full faculty vote."
"In short, fairness demands that all members of the Princeton community be subject to a common set of rules and procedures. We are all meant to be granted equal protection under these rules. Our established procedures for disciplinary matters do not call for a full faculty vote."
Princeton, practice what you preach: SPIA graduate students on protest and dialogue
Guest Contributors"As policy students, we are appalled by the blatant hypocrisy of the University administration, which has relied on fear-mongering and false narratives to discredit student protestors. We are increasingly disillusioned with the dissonance of what we are taught in our classrooms and the University’s actions."
"As policy students, we are appalled by the blatant hypocrisy of the University administration, which has relied on fear-mongering and false narratives to discredit student protestors. We are increasingly disillusioned with the dissonance of what we are taught in our classrooms and the University’s actions."
