A Reaper of What She Has Sown

By A. Michelle McLeod

When you think of the South, what comes to mind?  Do barbeques and pig pickin’s come to mind? Do fried foods come to mind? Southern churches with long-winded preachers? When I think of the South, I remember my own experiences, places I’ve visited, people I’ve met, and television shows I’ve watched that poorly depict the South. I live in Vass, NC, that has lots of dirt roads and dead ends. The neighborhood where I’ve lived for many years has barely any traffic, and only the main road is paved.

When I was a child around the age of two, I began sneaking from my home that was down a hill on a dead end dirt road to my neighbor’s home across the paved road.  In my small town, no one thought twice about a child being harmed by a stranger. No one was a stranger. No one needed to include a last name when referring to someone who lived in Vass. Doors were kept unlocked all day and night. Years have passed and my former neighbor often tells me stories of things I did as a child, and we laugh at my innocence and curiosity. Neither my neighbor nor I knew at the time of my childhood that we would come together years later in a different setting.

On February 22, 1945 in Dunn, NC, a child was born to Lilly Yates, aged 19. The child was named Mary Elizabeth Yates. Shortly after Mary was born, her mother developed tuberculosis and died. Before her death, Lilly requested that Mary be adopted by her best friend. In those years, family members and friends could be appointed guardian of a child without any brows raised or any questions asked. It was assumed that a relative or a close friend would take over guardianship in the event that the birth parents were not able to do so. Mary’s adopted mother didn’t have any children so Mary was an only child. Mary’s adopted mother worked as a housekeeper where she cleaned, cooked, and cared for a child the same age as Mary. The family Mary’s mother worked for was a white family and although the family had no black neighbors or friends, the family treated Mary and her mother no different than their own race. Mary and the child her mother cared for played together while Mary’s mother cleaned and cooked.

At age six, Mary’s adopted mother was no longer able to care for her so Mary was sent to live with her maternal grandmother in Southern Pines, NC. Mary was heartbroken but eventually grew to like the new living arrangement. A young girl four years Mary’s elder also lived with Mary’s grandmother. The young girl’s mother had also passed. The two girls grew fond of each other and soon referred to each other as sisters. Mary’s grandmother was a very religious woman with strict rules. As a teenager, Mary and her sister were required to work in the local cotton and tobacco fields. Mary also worked as a babysitter to many families. It wasn’t unusual for a young girl to babysit. Work came as a priority over school. The school Mary attended was segregated. The grades ranged from K-12. In the South education wasn’t as important as providing for a family. Even though school started in August, Mary and other students didn’t attend until harvest season was over in late September to October. The teachers understood and would never count any of the missed days against the students whose families made them work in the fields.

No matter what the season, Mary had to tend to the family’s food supply. The family’s food supply consisted of hogs and chickens. The hogs were fed slop and fattened up with table food and other scraps and later became the main course for Sunday dinner. The chickens laid eggs that were used for breakfast and used in many delicious dishes. Many families in the 1950s often had to find other ways along with working to provide food for their household. Mary’s family owned a garden which harvested corn, okra, peas, string beans, lima beans, tomatoes, watermelons, and peanuts. As Mary’s school age was coming to an end, her grandmother allowed her to date, but she still had to abide by strict rules. Mary later married, but her jobs still consisted of working in tobacco fields and gardens, and raising chickens and hogs. Field workers had to work from sunup to sundown with an hour or less for lunch.

Mary always attended church, was involved in many programs, and was a member of the choir. Mary always felt like she didn’t fit in with the other children who were more promiscuous because of her religious morals that were reinforced by her grandmother. Mary continued to feel the same well into her adult life and approached her pastor. She was taken under her pastor’s wing and later was ordained as a minister. After obtaining the position as a minister for a few years, Mary was ordained as an elder and began to preach at various churches around NC. After being ordained as a pastor a few years, Mary felt that it was time she spread her wings and establish a church of her own. Being down-to-earth and having a kind heart was what made many people draw near to Mary. Mary’s Christian faith and morals were what Mary continued to cling to no matter what obstacles she had to face, and many wanted to learn what it was that made her steadfast and unmovable. Many wanted to learn how to be like Mary. Mary was ordained as an apostle after being a pastor of her own church for eleven years.

I have been a member of Mary’s church for a little over a year. Along with the Bible lessons, life lessons are also included in many sermons. I have learned a lot from Mary about hard work and faith. I have learned that faith and work go hand-in-hand. Many people don’t think about what earlier generations had to endure just to have food on the table. Many people, including myself, have never experienced working the fields, gardens, and hog pens. Interviewing Mary gave me a new insight and respect for her and earlier generations’ hard work and faith that hard work will eventually pay off.

Work Cited

Kelly, Mary. Personal interview. 24 Jan. 2013.



Note: A. Michelle McLeod, who lives in Vass, NC, is pursuing a degree in medical office administration at Sandhills Community College. She also is employed at Peak Resources Pinelake in Carthage, NC.

Livin’ Down South in the Land of the Pines

by Jordan Beck

“It was so safe. You never had to worry about crime, and no one thought about child abductors.” As Gayemell Shepherd’s sweet southern draw serenaded my ears, my mind floated back to the early 1960s when she was growing up in Sanford, North Carolina. An idyllic life of happiness, the American Dream, and strong ties to the South hovered in my consciousness like a honey bee over a magnolia flower. Such was the life of the then Gayemell Campbell, born in 1956 and raised in Lee County. The mother of my best friend since the day I moved to West End, NC, from Freehold, New Jersey, in 2004, no other woman besides my own mother ever took such good care of me. In a life defined by strong southern roots, the end of segregation and subsequent integration of African Americans, as well as the evolution of culture, Gayemell’s life paints a picture of what it means to be a Southerner.

The daughter of a farm-boy turned soldier turned chemical salesman, Gayemell Campbell grew up in a comfortable neighborhood. She recalls always being outside, as “there was more play than now where technology’s screwed up so much.” Whether it was spending a quarter for a cone at an ice cream truck, fishing with cane poles, or riding bicycles through clouds of mosquito-killing DDT, Gayemell described a childhood free from worry. “It was a much simpler, helluva lot easier life,” she said with a smile. Of Scottish descent, the Campbell family has deep ties to the land. The farm Gayemell’s father grew up on remains the family’s today. Recipes were passed down by the women, as were china, crystal, and silver. Gayemell still recalls getting her first Mix Master and learning how to make a pound cake. Food was a key component of life, “with extra salt and butter” she said with a grin. Chicken and dumplings, pound cakes, grits, fried chicken, collard greens, biscuits, and potato salad were staples, yet canning was equally important. Without freezers, picking green beans and preserving them was the norm.

Life, however, did not stay so idyllic, especially as segregation ended as the effects of the Civil Rights Movement reached Lee County. When integration began in 1968, her eighth grade year, Gayemell recalls the rioting of both blacks and whites. “It was a very uneasy time,” she said, “Whites didn’t like blacks, but blacks didn’t like being there either.” She remembers the more volatile students sharpening their belt buckles to use should a fight break out. Graffiti was everywhere. It was “scary as a 13 or 14 year old,” she stated. Yet, over time, things started to change. Athletics paved the way and while “tension was always there, it became the exception rather than the rule [to fight]. There were still groups who were volatile, but with athletics, it was better for victory together than victory apart” (Shepherd). The realization that integration was not going to change also moved things along. “You had to get used to things,” mused Shepherd, “but you always looked over your shoulder for those who had an axe to grind.” In truth, it wasn’t the students who had a problem in Shepherd’s experience, but rather the parents. Gaymelle’s husband Dale, also a native North Carolinian, interjected, “As student body president in high school, my vice president was a good friend of mine and an African American. He was a great baseball player, and while we were friends in school we never saw each other outside. It just wasn’t possible.”

After graduating from Greensboro College and working as an exceptional education teacher in Goldsboro, Gayemell Campbell moved to Moore County and married Dale Shepherd, a Wake Forest alumni. They had their first child, my future best friend, Talmadge, a year later in 1994. The changes to life were drastic, most notably with technology. Yet Shepherd mentioned her sadness at a part of life grown increasingly rare as time’s passed: visiting. “Every Sunday after church you’d get in the car and ride without seat belts to a friend’s house. You visited. You made homemade ice cream and sat on the churn while someone cranked.” Gayemell and her family try to keep a similar tradition going, and the Shepherd household continuously buzzes with other people. More changes to life revolve around the church. “There were fewer churches back then, but fewer conflicting activities too. You’d always get together for lunches and parties there with all your friends,” she reminisced, “now there’s so much that gets in the way.”

While the modern world certainly has its differences from Sanford, North Carolina circa 1960, one thing that won’t change anytime soon: the people. In Gayemell’s words, “It’s the people that make the South the South. The hearts of the people. You know your neighbors and you depend on each other.” That’s what it means to be Southern. You can eat all the collard greens, biscuits, and pound cakes you want, but if your heart lies outside the South you aren’t a Southerner. After all, home is where the heart is.

Work Cited

Shepherd, Gayemell. Personal interview. 6 Feb. 2013.

Note: Jordan Beck, who grew up in New Jersey, is pursuing an associate of arts degree at Sandhills Community College. He plans to transfer in fall 2013 to N.C. State or UNC-Chapel Hill.

The American South: A Sense of Community

by Mary Lamb

The South is not simply a geographical region; it is an animated history lesson with roots deeper than the wild fig. The culture is one of honor and pride. Most importantly, the sense of community in the South has created a unique region that has not been replicated, based on the travels of my new friend, Adrian Harper. To gain a deeper understanding of the culture in the South, I need look no further than across the table at lunch to receive first-hand accounts that explicitly articulate the uniqueness of the region. My history lesson was portrayed through the life of Adrian. Listening to the stories of his life was pure music to my ears that gave me a confirmation of why I am raising my own children in the South.

Blue Ridge Mountains

Adrian was born and raised in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. As he recounted stories of his life, I got an entirely new perspective of life in a community. After serving in the United States Navy for twenty years, it was the purity of the people that called Adrian back to the American South. He and his wife, Odessa, chose to spend their retirement years in North Carolina. The South is saturated with small towns and neighborhoods that emulate the stereotypical idea of a close-knit culture. The pride of being a Southerner is a unique trait, and the melody of his words filled my heart like the sugar in sweet tea. Adrian explained that “with people in the South, they’ll tell you what they think to your face, but in the North and the West, they will be all smiles until you turn your back” At first I took offense, until I realized that he wasn’t putting down my Northern heritage, but rather attempting to educate me on his love for the Southern culture and a love for the sense of community.

Emancipation Proclamation

The sense of community is shown in large gatherings and intimate family affairs. It is a sense of oneness that radiates through the entire Southern region. When Adrian told me the story of his great grandfather becoming a free man after the Emancipation Proclamation, the fact that he took on his master’s name and remained employed by him was a great example of the sense of oneness and unity in this culture. Adrian did not speak with any negativity or animosity when recounting the events of his past. Instead, he tenderly shared information with dignity, in spite of the hardships created by slavery and segregation. I recognized his optimistic attitude as another illustration of a Southern gentleman.

In the foothills of North Carolina where Adrian and Odessa grew up, a certain tone was used in rearing children. The idea of “it takes a village to raise a child” could have been the motto in Southern neighborhoods, as the people easily bonded in a unique manner. Adrian illustrated this by saying, “It didn’t matter whose parents caught you doing something wrong. They would take it upon themselves to grab a switch and teach you a lesson.” This same principle held true with mealtime for when food was on the table; whoever was around was welcome to eat. Hospitality of the South was exactly as portrayed in the saying “Come a stranger, leave as family.”

The best cooks include a little fatback
to add flavor.

In the South Sundays were special days for social and family gatherings. After attending church services, people would congregate on the lawn and make plans for afternoon activities. Adrian explained that church members took turns hosting the pastor and his wife for Sunday dinner. Delicious fried food is a staple in Southern gatherings. In the North, much cooking is done with vegetable oil, but in the South food is fried in “fatback.” My Northern roots left me stunned as Odessa explained that “fatback” gives the food its flavor. She said, “I loved just frying it up until it was crispy.” Although the Southern tradition of frying “fatback” until it was crispy may sound foreign to some Northerners, it was not foreign to me. During my father’s childhood, he would fry the fat from bacon, sop the grease up with a slice of Wonder Bread, and fry the bread until it was crispy. Some styles of preparing and eating food overlap from region to region. However, when gathering together to eat a meal, one must be in the South if livermush, black-eyed peas, cornbread, and fatback-fried chicken are the main entrees.

Meals are more than eating food in the South. Meals are opportunities for deeper lessons about life. The Southern culture holds respect in highest regard. The concept of respect is more significant that “yes, sir” and ‘no, ma’am.” Respect is preached to children from birth and children are taught to respect one another. Adrian told me of the times when the pastor and his wife came to Sunday dinner. The children were expected to show respect toward the adults and the parents showed respect toward the children. Adrian’s father expected the children to eat what was prepared for their guests. “It doesn’t matter if it’s the President of the United States at the table; my children will eat at the table next to him,” explained Adrian. This example illustrates a beautiful sense of honor that his father had for his children. This story emphasized both the idea of respect and equality for all people. Possibly, this concept dates back to the freedom of slaves in the South, as Adrian mentioned, several times, the idea of separate, but equal. The people of the South have been deeply affected by this concept. It is as if a slow, melodic rhythm beats within their soul and perpetuates the values of each person rooted in the South.

Respect, equality, and a close sense of community truly portray the special qualities of Southern culture that remains alive today. The deep historical roots of the region have created an area of the United States that deserves to hear songs of praise. Whether it is clans of neighbors who watch out for one another or folks gathered around the Sunday table, the people of the South have formed a culture of purity and unconditional support for one another that can be recognized throughout the world. I am honored to raise my children as true Southern people.

Works Cited

Harper, Adrian. Personal interview. 1 Feb. 2013.

Harper, Odessa. Personal interview. 1 Feb. 2013.



Note: Mary Lamb, who grew up in Michigan within French-Canadian and Polish cultural connections, is pursuing a nursing degree at Sandhills Community College.

Homegrown

By Jessica Zak 

In the American South today, living near a grocery store is a necessity. In fact, the people of the United States may all agree that a Wal-Mart is needed in almost every town. Fathers make a special trip on the way home from work just to pick up milk, but a short fifty years ago Angela Sherry remembers life to be very different.

 In 1961 Angela was born in a small Virginia town. She was warmly received by her parents, grandparents, and great grandparents; they all lived on the same 300 acres of farmland. From the time she was born, Angela woke up to the smell of homemade bread every morning. Her grandmother was awake before the sun rose making five loaves of bread to feed the family every day. However, before this task was even started, the men would milk the cows at five a.m. Because Angela’s family owned a dairy farm, they didn’t have to physically milk every single cow they owned, but the cows did have to be hooked up to machines that fed and milked each one. Angela reflected on the time saying, “I remember running through the ‘barns’ where the cows were milked. They were milked twice a day, and Daddy used to refer to the milking as ‘five to five’ because those were the times they got milked.”

In this country home there was no such thing as store-bought food. “We would eat wildlife before we went to a store,” Angela said referring to the squirrels, turtles, and frogs that she once consumed. Some typical food her family had for “supper” was cornbread, beans, creamed tomatoes, and corn meal mush. Their protein consisted of deer and rabbit that her father and grandfather caught the week before. Angela remembered “…grandma picking a wild onion called a ‘ramp.’ She would cook it and it smelled so bad.”

In the downtime of the day Angela didn’t have many material things to play with. She and her brother played on the land. Sometimes they got “whooped” by their grandmother for running through her garden, which was half an acre. However, Angela did own one Barbie doll that she received on her sixth birthday. She also grew up without a color television or a microwave. In addition, the farmhouse had no shower and no heat. As a result, when it got cold on winter nights, Angela’s mom would put water bottles filled with hot water at the foot of the bed she and her brother shared. There was nothing her family had that they didn’t work for. 

Although I would prefer a home-cooked meal over anything store-bought, Angela feels differently. She said that when she finally did eat commercially prepared bread, she never went back to homemade loaves. She would rather have quality time with her family than spend time baking. Although her family spent most of their time working, she still feels a close bond. She considers her family to be very united in faith and in each other. “There is no stronger bond than that of tight kin,” said Angela after I asked her how she felt about the unity of her family. Times were hard and family was close, almost as close as your local Wal-Mart.

 Work Cited 

Sherry, Angela. Personal interview. 11 Sept. 2012.




Note: Jessica Zak, who is from Cameron, NC, is pursuing an associate's in fine arts degree at Sandhills Community College.

The Most Uncommon, Un-southern, “Southern” Area

by Sarah Bowman

Are all the towns in the South similar? As my grandmother, “Ahmoo,” and I discussed her experiences as a Southerner, we compared the Sandhills to other “typical” southern areas. The “outside changes” here have made the Sandhills a most uncommon, un-southern, “Southern” area.

It comes full circle between generations; for example, Ahmoo and I walked the same path to school, only many decades apart. If not for a northern influence of the Sandhills area, we may not have been able to share that neat experience. Our family has been in the Sandhills since the eighteenth century, and according to Ahmoo, “Not much had changed in those 200 years. I suppose before this wave of change, the majority would agree that the area was indeed an established, typical town of the South, by and large an agricultural area, and during that time, most surrounding areas in North Carolina were just that.”

However, Ahmoo told me that when the “money culture” from up North came to the Sandhills, the locals began to notice just as many similarities as differences. The two intellectual communities were similar. “Everybody had a Bible, a Shakespeare, and some other classic.” Because the area had a large population of writers and poets, publishers and press from up North frequently visited the Sandhills. She also told me, “I knew this because my mother’s cousin was a publisher of The Sandhills Citizen,” which was one of many local papers.

The new resort and the local farmers had other common interests such as card games as well as hunting with their horses and dogs. One example of a benefit gained was transportation; the railroad now had the ability to support both the local shipping of produce and transporting of tourists to and fro. The outsiders brought new foods, religions, and entertainment. My Ahmoo said, “There was either home entertainment or church entertainment. Suddenly, we could go have fun in public at the theater or whatever.” With similarities come differences. In this case, it was imaginably difficult to make such significant adjustments.


“With the establishment of Fort Bragg in 1918 came a lot of displacement in the agricultural industry, and it brought many different cultures from all over America.” Following the Great Depression, people went to work in textile mills, which changed the culture from agricultural to industrial. As for politics, the South was essentially Democratic with few members of the Republican Party. “There was not usually a primary local Republican candidate at all until the outside influence brought in the Republicans.”

Furthermore, the Sandhills was greatly influenced by northern outsiders, as well as money. Prior to the “invasion,” “The Sandhills was used to a classic way of life; priorities were to go to the feed store, the drug store, and the bank — a farmer’s life.” That soon changed to a more relaxed lifestyle entailing golfing and horseback riding. The area was manipulated to say the least. While it is still considered a southern town, it varies from what we typically know as “Southern.” “In comparison to other small southern towns, Sarah, the Sandhills has character unlike most others; this area is more of a vacation location with seldom, old, southern charm. If this is the ‘Southern’ one is used to, then it may not be outrageous to consider it just as equally southern.”

In doing this assignment, Ahmoo and I made fantastic connections to our pasts, and we learned that our two very different generations ultimately came a full circle. Perhaps, had it not been for the outside changes made to the Sandhills, she may not be living two doors down from the house she grew up in, which is next door to the house my dad built when I was a baby on his grandfather’s land. Although we might lack certain values or morals, she and I have many things in common, possibly an effect caused by the environment we grew up in, an old, originally southern town that was almost entirely revamped by outside entities. We shared lots of wonderful stories, and I learned how incomparable the Sandhills was to most usual towns of the South, and Ahmoo had a chance to revisit her past growing up in the most uncommon, un-southern, “Southern” town.

Works Cited

Bowman, Gay. Personal interview.13 Sep. 2012.



Note: Sarah Bowman, who is from Robbins, NC, is pursuing an associate's in arts degree at Sandhills Community College.

A Yankee’s Perspective of the South

By Zachary Derrah

Students of history notice the massive changes that occur between two generations. Headline grabbing events shape the generation experiencing it, and future ones categorize it. The new generation assume that times have changed; therefore, the people and way of doing things must have too.

My father who was career military became stationed in the South in the mid-'60s and later in the mid-'70s. His experiences in the South were strikingly similar to mine when I was stationed in the South around 2007. His first experience was going to Airborne School at Ft. Benning, Georgia, in 1964. Being raised in Maine and keeping up with the news, he expected a racial power keg where military cohesion would be difficult to maintain. The opposite was true. Black and white soldiers worked together to accomplish tasks and even maintained friendships.

One point that my parents wanted to make was while they witnessed the “colored only” doors and bathrooms, most of the racism they experienced was from their own family. Even to the point that they were shunned because they supported integration. My dad said, “We weren’t blind to the problems in the country but we never saw them first hand, aside from the signs. The Army just didn’t have those issues in my experience.”

It has been said that there are no atheists in a foxhole. In my experience I would also add that there is no skin color on patrol. Differences did exist, not on racial lines but regional lines. Speaking with my dad, we both agreed that soldiers from the South tended to be friendlier, self-sufficient, and composed in their emotions. Northern soldiers were exclusive in their clicks, more reliant on others for tasks that were outside of their job description, and hotheaded.

Dad was more isolated due to work and, therefore, restricted to base. Mom had more experiences “outside of the fence” and was able to see Southern culture in less of a controlled environment. The first aspect that impressed her was the concept of the Southern gentleman. When I ask what stood out the most she stated, “I never heard a Southerner swear in front of me. This was refreshing from your father’s family where every other word was one.” My dad’s family was native to Maine, and years of the shipyard vernacular tended to cross over into family conversation.

My mom and dad tended to only have other soldiers or Army wives as friends and the military became a culture unto itself. Regardless they both appreciated the friendly attitude that strangers on the street would have towards them. Dad even commented, “Everyone was so much warmer. We’ve lived next door to the Gagnes [neighbors in Maine] for twenty years, and I’ve never been to their house! That is the main difference from down there.”

Nearing the end of my conversation my dad told me, “I’m glad you stayed down there. It’s a good place to raise your family. I could tell you about the food differences but what matters is that you have an actual community to raise your boys in. That is something that you and me never had.”  So forty-three years later I had my own experiences in the South. Despite the generational differences and the historic events that occurred between now and then, the experiences were similar. I too have witnessed the cultural differences. From the self-sufficient southerner, the friendly stranger, the tight community, the racism, and etiquette the South is a different world to a Yankee.

Works Cited

Derrah, Carolyn. Personal interview. 11 Sept. 2012.

Derrah, Donald. Personal interview. 11 Sept. 2012.


Note: Zach Derrah, who is from Sanford, NC, is pursuing as associate's in arts degree at Sandhills Community College

N.C. Turkey Festival and Hometown Pride

by Joyce Bullard

Welcome to Raeford, Hoke County, North Carolina, home of the North Carolina Turkey Festival where the tea is sweet and the folks are friendly. Located in southern North Carolina, the county was established in 1911 and named after Brigadier General Robert F. Hoke who served in the Confederate war. Farming and millwork are the most popular trades, but the town is famous for its turkeys. Turkey farms, turkey plants, and the one and only turkey festival.

It was at the turkey festival where I became close friends with Judy Melton Pittman. She has served on the Turkey Festival Board for 25 years. I first met Judy in the early 1990’s when she was the Hoke County Tax Administrator. Judy watched the county grow and encountered the trials and tribulations of growing up in a small southern rural community where everybody knows everybody and stated, “It’s not what you know; it’s who you know.” Southern people have southern pride.

Judy was born at home on April 9, 1945 in an old tobacco barn that was connected to their house. In poor southern communities it was very common to be born at home as the closest hospital was 25 miles away in the city of Fayetteville. Her father worked in construction and moved from job to job. Her mother ran the household which was also common in this southern town. It was hard work and they lived paycheck to paycheck. In 1964 Judy married Jimmy Pittman who like a lot of men from this area, being so close to Ft. Bragg, joined the military while Judy and her daughter, Melissa, stayed with her parents. This arrangement was common when men went to fight for their country.

In 1983 the county held the first Hob Knob Festival, which is now known as the Turkey Festival. In the early days, it was held in the high school gym with around 2,000 visitors. Judy began working as a volunteer and would later serve as president for three terms. There were twenty-one special events, including a horse show, softball, volleyball and flying model airplanes. I ask her what kept the turkey festival going all these years. She looked at me with a smile, and said, “The food, of course -- it’s not a festival without fried collard sandwiches, lemonade, and deep fried pickles.” In its twenty-eighth year the festival has grown to over 60,000 visitors.

Judy recalls her childhood and remembers with laughter the time her grandma and grandpa first got electricity. Her grandmother kept trying to blow out the light bulb. Her grandfather was the biggest bootlegger in Hoke County. Being in a small community he would get information that he was about to be raided and would hide all the liquor before the police showed up. Judy remembers when the first black student attended her school. On weekends Judy and Jimmy would go to the drive-in movie, have popcorn, drink, and then go out for ice cream and would only spend fifty cents. Judy rolled her eyes, and said, “Fifty cents won’t buy you a pack of gum these days.”

Growing up in the South and raised on southern traditions, Judy remembers with a smile the changes the county as seen through the years. You can still find good home-style mom and pop restaurants where you can have collards, fatback, and chitin’s or take a walk down Main Street and feel the traditional small town wonders. You see churches on every corner and farmers still working their fields. But as peaceful as it is, this southern town comes alive in September as the North Carolina Turkey Festival brings joy, laughter, and tradition to its townsfolk and the thousands of visitors who come through.

Work Cited

Pittman, Judy. Personal interview. 3 Feb. 2012.


Note: Joyce Bullard, who is from Raeford, NC, is pursuing the digital media curriculum at Sandhills Community College.