Mobile, Alabama There’s nothing that will make me homesick for the South quicker than a few pictures or a good story. I have a great love for the people in the deep South. I seized the opportunity to work with a number of true Southerners and gathered enough material to fill a book of short stories. I’ve neither scratched my head so much nor laughed so hard as I did while working with this “breed” of people. And they are a breed. Especially the ones who found their way under my guidance. I’m not sure if my upper management wanted to sink me or if they actually thought I could do something with some of these characters. Nonetheless, I seemed to end up with the most lively, 100% of whom were bussed in from Northern counties in the state, and all of whom brought with them daily woes of their extended families.
When I first read this story, a couple a days ago, I saw “Prichard man” and immediately looked at the name of the accused to see if 1.) he’d been employed by us or 2.) he was the cousin/nephew/son/husband of someone we employed. I was sort of disappointed to find his name was not familiar and extremely disappointed I’ve lost contact with my two favorite ladies down there so I could get their take on what transpired. I’m positive they know someone who’s given them the inside story here and I can almost see and hear Miss Mack standing there with her hand on her hip, rolling those eyes back in her head as she’s relaying the gory details. “Shit girl, that boy done dug his uncle’s eyes out. One at a time, girl. Dirtied up that spoon and everything. I ain’t eating off their shit no more.” (more…)