White Christmas

It was 1963 and my family had driven from Florida to Jackson, Mississippi for Christmas. We usually stayed home for the holidays but for some reason unknown to an 8 year old we decided to travel. It was there, in a fairly unlikely location, that I experienced my first and only White Christmas–until today. Some…

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Yankees? In Georgia?

I don’t know which is more ridiculous. A woman in a store calling my Southern Belle wife “Yankee” because she asked to get past her blockage of an aisle OR painting an entire region of the USA as rude!

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