It was a perfect fall day back in 1964 in Cayce, South Carolina when the "new girl" entered Mr. Fletcher's Psychology class. At B-C High the class was available to seniors only. The new girl was not yet 16 and a junior, but was enrolled in Psychology at her previous high school in Indiana, so an exception was made.

The office person gave Mr. Fletcher the new girl's information and he graciously introduced and welcomed her and told her where she could take a seat. She obediently walked to the row by the window and nervously sat down. This wasn't the first time she had been the "new girl" in class and due to her father's occupation, it might not be the last. Just three years earlier she had had to leave her beautiful Knoxville, in the shadow of the Great Smoky's, to move up to the the frigid (weather and people) North to Indiana. Mr. Fletcher was about to continue with the lesson when a bubbly Chauncey Shelby interrupted, "maybe Candy (not the new girl's real name) could tell us a little about herself?" Mr. Fletcher answered, "well, Chauncey, maybe she's not comfortable doing that just yet, she's only been in here 2 minutes" looking at Candy to see a positive or negative reaction to Chancey's inquiry.

Candy remembered her first day at her new school in Indiana. The principal told her mother that coming from a southern state like Tennessee, her children may not be able to keep up academically with their students. He had said in a most condescending and badly executed southern accent, "ya know, thar's more to skool than readin', writin' and 'rithmitic." Candy could see the blood rise on her mothers complexion. Her mother began, "I see. Let me tell you a little bit about my family. My brother is an orthopedic surgeon and a concert violinist. My father is an engineer at K-25 and Y-12 in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, you know, where they developed the atomic bomb. He's also an ordained Baptist Pastor. My husband attended Georgetown University and Carson Newman College, graduating in 3 years Cum Laude and went on to get his Master's Degree while supporting a wife and 2 children after being a pilot in the Army Air Corps in WWII and the Air Force during the Korean conflict. I am a published writer as is my father. Now, would you like to tell me a little bit about your family?" The guy was left with a befuddled look on his face trying to find words to respond. Candy's mother continued, "I'm quite sure my Southern children will have no trouble keeping up in your Yankee school. Can we move on and get them to their classes or do you want to spend more time insulting and belittling them?" Candy just looked at the principal with a satisfied the-South-just-rose-again smile.

Candy’s family’s three trying and freezing years in Indiana were thankfully behind her, but she couldn’t help but recall the “you talk funny – what does d-i-m-e spell, it’s pronounced dyeem not dahm – are you used to wearing shoes or do Southerner’s go barefooted most of the time like the Beverly Hillbillies – does your family have a black maid or did they own slaves back in the Civil War - are you prejudice against black people like everyone else in the South?” These were serious inquiries posed during the Indiana years of 1961-1964, even though there was not one black student at any of the Indiana schools Candy and her 2 sisters attended. They also seemed oblivious to their own midwestern twang. One morning shortly after arriving in Indiana, Candy's mother asked a neighbor if she could drop her kids off at school with the neighbors own children. The neighbor looked at Candy and her sister and proceeded to say, "uhl rate you gays, gat in tha kerr" - translation, " All right you guys, get in the car." Candy and her sister looked at eachother trying not to giggle at the neighbors flat midwestern speech. Candy's sister said, "I think she wants us to get in the kerr, er, I mean car."

With memories of her first days at school in Indiana, Candy wasn't sure how she would be perceived by the Carolinians if she mentioned Indiana. One boy, named Ed, turned to Candy and said, "how old are you? You look too young to be a senior." Candy quickly replied, "I'm 15 and a junior." "Did you skip a grade or something," Ed asked. "No, my birthday's toward the end of November, so I made the December 31st cut-off to turn 5 where I started kindergarten," Candy explained. "Where'd you move here from," another kid asked. "Fort Wayne, Indiana," Candy responded. "You sure as heck don't sound like a Yankee," said Ed. "That's because I'm not. I'm from Tennessee and we only lived in Fort Wayne (pronounced "Furt Ween" by Indianan's) three years. And I can tell you it's very cold up there and I don't just mean the weather." Through questions and answers Candy related the story, including her mama's conversation with the principal. Mr. Fletcher said, "well, bless your heart, you're among friends now and we Carolinians think a Tennessee accent is just about as good as ours - so, welcome home."

Candy was waiting for the orchestra to start playing "Dixie" in the background. That would be very politically incorrect today, but back in '64 she knew what it meant and it had nothing to do with race, but a region.

Candy truly was home for her 2 years at B-C High. No more insulting questions and no more explaining that, yes, like other Americans, Southerner's, too, had indoor restroom facilities, and unlike the "film at 11," they saw on their northern TV stations, the vast majority are NOT members of the KKK (guess what Indiana - they're in your state, too,) . She was part of the B-C High Class of 1966. A class that, even if it had it's different groups that hung out together - the jock's, the socies, the cheerleaders and the almighty B-C High Band members, was a together class and everyone liked eachother and intermingled and got along. It was a great 2 years that came to an end too soon. Candy was on a plane 5 days before graduating ceremonies and had to miss "walking" with her class, moving, again, to another state.

She will never forget her warm welcome and acceptance and what a great school and superb education she got (even though Miss Matthews was NOT her favorite - Yea! Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Cherry, Mr. Fletcher and all the rest), with wonderful memories of Myrtle Beach summer '65, the football rallies and even the PSAT and SAT Saturdays. But most of all, she will forever remember with great fondness her classmates who made High School at Brookland-Cayce a great experience.

Thanks for the memories........

Candy (not her real name)

Postscript
As Tim Jacobson notes within Heritage of the South,

"More than any other part of America, the South stands apart...Thousands of Northerners and foreigners have migrated to it...but Southerners they will not become. For this is still a place where you must have either been born or have 'people' there, to feel it is your native ground.

"Natives will tell you this. They are proud to be Americans, but they are also proud to be Virginians, South Carolinians, Tennesseans, Mississippians and Texans. But they are conscious of another loyalty too, one that transcends the usual ties of national patriotism and state pride. It is a loyalty to a place where habits are strong and memories are long. If those memories could speak, they would tell stories of a region powerfully shaped by its history and determined to pass it on to future generations."