Advertisement
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollectionsSouthern United States Culture
IN THE NEWS

Southern United States Culture

FEATURED ARTICLES
NEWS
April 9, 1991 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
Among the names it has known: White liquor. White lightning. Stump liquor. Bootleg whiskey. Moonshine. 'Shine. For years, just a mention would glaze faces with nostalgia, conjuring up visions of fast-driving booze runners and of mountain men cooking illegal whiskey in crude but ingenious stills that, from time to time, got raided by hard-driving revenuers. But it's not just nostalgia anymore. The moonshiners apparently had dwindled, law enforcement officials say, but had never left completely.
ARTICLES BY DATE
SPORTS
February 25, 2001 | BILL PLASCHKE
I have raced my Chevy through a straightaway of barren oaks, high into the curve past the Chick-fil-A, past porch swings and splintered basketball goals and a yard sale with fork lifts. I have sprinted through rolling hills and reproducing Cracker Barrels directly into the middle of one-half mile of red clay, in the shape of an oval, like that stretched and frayed collar on the white T-shirt around the neck of Roger Hamrick. "You're from where?" he asks.
Advertisement
NEWS
March 14, 1991 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
There's nothing like a few hundred rattlesnakes to get your senses racing. The smell hangs in the air, heavy, musky. More than 500 frightened and angry snakes huddled in a warehouse create a powerful aroma that seems to follow you days later. Then there's the sound of the rattles, a bzzzzzzzzzzzzz, multiplied hundreds of times.
NEWS
May 22, 1997 | ERIC HARRISON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
It's hard to conceive of an institution with an image more entwined with Southern history and tradition than the tree-shaded campus of the University of Mississippi. During the Civil War, when Ole Miss was all male, its entire student body withdrew to enlist in the Confederate army. "Dixie" and the Confederate battle flag still are mainstays at sporting events, and Colonel Reb--a whiskered caricature of a plantation owner--is the school mascot. Even the nickname is a throwback.
NEWS
December 3, 1990 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
Like soldiers at attention, dozens of rocking chairs stand still and quiet in a dimly lit room at the tiny factory. Freshly covered with various shades of stain or white paint, they all await pickup by customers at The Rocker Shop. They are Brumby rockers, and they may be the last brigade of the famous chairs. The large, comfortable rockers were first made here around 1875, and they have rocked countless babies, mothers and fathers on front porches and in parlors.
NEWS
May 22, 1997 | ERIC HARRISON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
It's hard to conceive of an institution with an image more entwined with Southern history and tradition than the tree-shaded campus of the University of Mississippi. During the Civil War, when Ole Miss was all male, its entire student body withdrew to enlist in the Confederate army. "Dixie" and the Confederate battle flag still are mainstays at sporting events, and Colonel Reb--a whiskered caricature of a plantation owner--is the school mascot. Even the nickname is a throwback.
NEWS
November 11, 1993 | ERIC HARRISON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
It's an odd position to be in, Jan N. Gretlund says, but somebody's got to do it. Americans are so--how to say it?--forward looking. They're so trendy, ever looking for the new. Who then will preserve American tradition if not the Europeans? Why, just the other day, Gretlund, who teaches American Southern studies at Odense University in Denmark, butted heads with a Mississippian who advanced a revisionist interpretation of the works of Eudora Welty.
NEWS
December 8, 1992 | RUDY ABRAMSON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
"Arkansas," said a traveler lost there in the last century, "is not a part of the world for which Jesus Christ died." Given the conditions of the time and what presumably were the dire circumstances of the unnamed visitor, that harsh judgment would have been hard to dispute. To westward-bound emigrants, the swampy, mosquito-infested, outlaw-ridden territory just beyond the Mississippi was to be entered with dread.
NEWS
April 3, 1989 | DAVID TREADWELL, Times Staff Writer
To the ordinary traveler, the scrub-covered dirt bank cut into a hillside along Highway 17 about two miles southeast of Lexington is like any other in this rolling, pine-studded section of rural Mississippi. But to Joann Travis, it is the source of a rich, golden-brown soil that she savors and eats as an after-meal treat. "It's sort of like people wanting cigarettes after they've eaten," said Travis, 28, a slender, attractive mother of three. "I've even put dirt over ice cream.
NEWS
January 15, 1989 | DAVID TREADWELL, Times Staff Writer
It was the third or fourth time that Andy McWilliams had stepped outside the bar to see if the mechanic had arrived to take him to his car, disabled on a back road about 5 miles from town. McWilliams had called for help more than half an hour ago, but there still was no sign of the mechanic. "Hey, relax and enjoy your beer," said a friend, a visitor from Atlanta, as McWilliams returned to his seat once again. "The guy knows where to find you, right?
NEWS
November 11, 1993 | ERIC HARRISON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
It's an odd position to be in, Jan N. Gretlund says, but somebody's got to do it. Americans are so--how to say it?--forward looking. They're so trendy, ever looking for the new. Who then will preserve American tradition if not the Europeans? Why, just the other day, Gretlund, who teaches American Southern studies at Odense University in Denmark, butted heads with a Mississippian who advanced a revisionist interpretation of the works of Eudora Welty.
NEWS
February 18, 1993 | LYN RIDDLE, SPECIAL TO THE TIMES
All y'all who wanted to do somethin' 'bout that Southern drawl, forget it. After a four-year run, Greenville Technical College here has canceled its course titled "How to Control a Southern Accent." The course earned the two-year school a lot of publicity--and some hate mail--but in the end it died for lack of interest. Only two people signed up for the spring semester.
NEWS
December 8, 1992 | RUDY ABRAMSON, TIMES STAFF WRITER
"Arkansas," said a traveler lost there in the last century, "is not a part of the world for which Jesus Christ died." Given the conditions of the time and what presumably were the dire circumstances of the unnamed visitor, that harsh judgment would have been hard to dispute. To westward-bound emigrants, the swampy, mosquito-infested, outlaw-ridden territory just beyond the Mississippi was to be entered with dread.
NEWS
August 9, 1992 | DUNCAN MANSFIELD, ASSOCIATED PRESS
John Rice Irwin knows all about life deep in the hollows of Appalachia. Others can learn about it, he reckons, by getting a look at Uncle Henry Moss's peg leg or the hog trough of Old Jim Smith, who lived his whole life in a cave. It's the stuff of these hardy folk that Irwin has collected, aided by a $345,000 MacArthur Foundation "genius grant" a few years ago.
ENTERTAINMENT
September 15, 1991 | CHARLES WALSTON, Charles Walston is a writer on the staff of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution
In the sun-streaked day room of a nursing home, two Southern women sit on an aqua sofa. The older one, dressed in a bathrobe with pictures of leaping bass on the pockets, absently shuffles cards and talks of bygone times. The other woman, middle-aged and somewhat plump, responds politely and fidgets with a candy bar.
NEWS
April 9, 1991 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
Among the names it has known: White liquor. White lightning. Stump liquor. Bootleg whiskey. Moonshine. 'Shine. For years, just a mention would glaze faces with nostalgia, conjuring up visions of fast-driving booze runners and of mountain men cooking illegal whiskey in crude but ingenious stills that, from time to time, got raided by hard-driving revenuers. But it's not just nostalgia anymore. The moonshiners apparently had dwindled, law enforcement officials say, but had never left completely.
NEWS
August 9, 1992 | DUNCAN MANSFIELD, ASSOCIATED PRESS
John Rice Irwin knows all about life deep in the hollows of Appalachia. Others can learn about it, he reckons, by getting a look at Uncle Henry Moss's peg leg or the hog trough of Old Jim Smith, who lived his whole life in a cave. It's the stuff of these hardy folk that Irwin has collected, aided by a $345,000 MacArthur Foundation "genius grant" a few years ago.
SPORTS
February 25, 2001 | BILL PLASCHKE
I have raced my Chevy through a straightaway of barren oaks, high into the curve past the Chick-fil-A, past porch swings and splintered basketball goals and a yard sale with fork lifts. I have sprinted through rolling hills and reproducing Cracker Barrels directly into the middle of one-half mile of red clay, in the shape of an oval, like that stretched and frayed collar on the white T-shirt around the neck of Roger Hamrick. "You're from where?" he asks.
NEWS
March 14, 1991 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
There's nothing like a few hundred rattlesnakes to get your senses racing. The smell hangs in the air, heavy, musky. More than 500 frightened and angry snakes huddled in a warehouse create a powerful aroma that seems to follow you days later. Then there's the sound of the rattles, a bzzzzzzzzzzzzz, multiplied hundreds of times.
NEWS
December 3, 1990 | LEE MAY, TIMES STAFF WRITER
Like soldiers at attention, dozens of rocking chairs stand still and quiet in a dimly lit room at the tiny factory. Freshly covered with various shades of stain or white paint, they all await pickup by customers at The Rocker Shop. They are Brumby rockers, and they may be the last brigade of the famous chairs. The large, comfortable rockers were first made here around 1875, and they have rocked countless babies, mothers and fathers on front porches and in parlors.
Los Angeles Times Articles
|