Monthly Archives: July 2008

Venturing forth again, it didn’t take us long to regain our proper frames of mind for the day after passing signs like this

Or more signs for places like Catch A Trout Road or Tater Ridge Road or Roy Cagle Road or Boggs Road. Or businesses such as Uncle Jeb’s Auto Sales or Tex Jones Shop or Mickey Pigg’s BBQ or U Can Pawn. And, of course, I can’t leave out the South Carolina Bear Hunters Association.

We turned down a dirt road near the South Carolina Bear Hunters Association sign and after following the road past some derelict mobile homes, stopped to take a picture of the view. Almost immediately, several Quasimodo-like individuals emerged from the trailers and slunk to the side of the road, just staring at us. I gave a half-wave as I was getting back in the car, but they just continued to stare at us without reacting. We continued down the dirt road until it reached a dead end where we turned around. After several minutes of driving, I spotted a movement out of the corner of my eye. Thinking I might see a deer or some other wildlife, I peered into the woods and to my great surprise, there was a stocky man, barefoot and dressed only in camouflage overalls sprinting through the forest. It instantly reminded me of the opening scenes in Last of the Mohicans where Daniel Day Lewis is running through the woods after the elk. Only, I couldn’t see what this guy was running for. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to intercept us or if he thought we were trying to raid his whiskey still or what. Mr. Downing accelerated and we were glad to be out of the area.

We were soon back in Georgia (which unlike South Carolina at least had a sign indicating when one had crossed the state line).

We stopped at a gas station/jerky shop for gasoline and as I mentioned in my previous Southern Exposure posting, gas stations are the cultural centers of most of the small towns in the rural South. This being no exception, a small crowd was sitting and standing around watching NASCAR on this small television.

This checkout clerk (Yes, she was missing a number of teeth) acted as if us paying for gasoline and some beverages with a credit card was one of the most significant burdens she would face in her life, shouted on a regular basis over to the others watching the race for updates.

I was amused by this sign outlining the restrictions on sales of booze – odd for a part of the country that claims to value personal freedom and responsibility, isn’t it? They do value freedom as long as it allows them the freedom to do what they want or your freedom matches their desires.

And here are some more of the pictures that are plastered all over any gas station you enter. I would draw your attention to the name – Clod McCracken – and the location – Rabun County. You can’t make shit like that up.

More fine Southern gentlemen. What do you think of the one on the right?

One of the principal occupations in the South seemed to us to be that of truck driver. This truck parked in front of a rundown house is just one of many, many examples we saw.

Another home that surprised us because people choose to live like this

And, again, everyone has crap in their yards

Such as this broken down truck…

With nails embedded in the hood. Why? We were unable to answer that question.

This bus really creeped us out. It was parked in a secluded area behind some particularly repugnant homes. Inside the bus was a child’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blanket – spotted with blood. We were both left with the distinct impression that this was a rape bus and that some dark shit had taken place here.

Another occupied dwelling that looks as if it shouldn’t be. The amusing part about this one was that it had a heavy padlock on the front door. As if someone would actually want to break in.

More of the same. I’m sorry if I appear to dwell on these, but I was just blown away by the lifestyle choices so many people had made. In Afghanistan the people are desperately poor and yet they still live with dignity – working to keep themselves and their homes clean and to maintain some sort of aesthetic sensibility. I observed no such values in the South.

Yes, this trailer really was occupied. I know.

We encountered this couple at a lake. Please notice the handlebar mustache on him and the Confederate flag bandanna. She was raving about a “big, goddamn fish” she’d seen in the water.

We ran into them later that day and this is what they were driving. Yes, kids, that is an IROC Camaro with a T-Top, a racist license plate and an unmatched door (which Mr. Downing pointed out undoubtedly was procured from someone’s front yard). Truly the personification of the South.

Never fear – some good churchin’ is always near for those feeling in need of some spiritual guidance.

This is the interior of Taylor’s Baptist Church

Where Mr. Downing recorded this delightful clip (just audio)

Taylor’s Baptist Church on the outside

And a sign for Taylor’s Baptist Church we stumbled across

To accompany the heavy doses of religion, there is a much higher quantity of strip clubs than elsewhere in the country. I believe it is because the men are so sexually repressed. Not sure what the women do… Cheat?

This sign was on the door of a strip club we visited. Notice how it says “no visible knives”. In other words, it’s OK to have a concealed weapon, you just can’t let anyone see it.

Another strip club sign

As mentioned previously, this area does have attractive settings such as this view at Blackrock State Park

Or this home and art studio with a functional waterwheel

Or this handsome horse

But so few people seemed aware of the natural beauty of the area and even fewer seemed to have the capacity to appreciate it – let alone try to become a part of it or add to it.

Quite by accident (we were simply exploring down the dirt road pictured below) we stumbled across an absolutely idyllic and beautiful site deep in the Chattahoochee National Forest.

This stream was cool and clear and the water soothed away much of the mental distress accumulated during our day of exploration

We felt compelled to go out of our way to visit the site again the next day

Mr. Downing

Your dear editor

For additional pictures and documentation, please feel free to visit this album of photographs taken by Mr. Downing

Aside from the simple pleasures of traveling and visiting old friends, I was keen on visiting some of the more extreme “Deliverance type” areas in America’s redneck South. Mr. Downing had tried to prepare me for the type of environment we were headed into, but words simply cannot prepare one for the experience. It is that simple.

One of the first areas Mr. Downing suggested we visit was Rabun County, Georgia where the movie Deliverance was actually filmed with ample help from the locals serving as extras in the film. Locals who, shall we say, jumped off the high dive into the shallow end of the gene pool. So, needless to say, I was in full support of starting operations there.

Upon leaving Atlanta, I was alarmed at how quickly we transitioned into the land of turducken and Confederate flags. Oh, and for the uninitiated (and you seriously should not feel bad if you are not), turducken is a dish consisting of chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey and is uniquely Southern in nature.

For the first few hours of driving around, things like this are pretty funny and one spends much of their time laughing.

And at signs like Coon Dog Auto Parts or Big Daddy’s Boot Outlet or Dave’s Goody Barn.

One thing that soon becomes evident and is also amusing is the fact that there are absolutely no abstract names in the South. For example: I grew up on Quintera Way. However, you’ll never see a sign like that in the South. Instead the sign describes exactly what is on the road. So, guess what is on Up Big Hill Road? Or Muddy Creek Road? Or Way Up Way? Or Downhill Road? Or Buford Dam Road? By the way, none of the names mentioned in this series are made up. They were all written down in my notebook as we drove past these various locations.

However, after a few hours of fun, the humor in the situation starts to wear thin. The naked hostility of the locals to outsiders and things like overt racism or a fascination with killing things all become a little fatiguing. Mix this in with the living conditions and the genuine pride the locals feel for their lifestyle and it all becomes a little overwhelming – a type of sensory overload.

On the topic of living conditions, which was alluded to above, we were continually amazed by the conditions in which people lived. As unbelievable as it may seem, all of these structures were occupied:

Not many places have running water which, of course, necessitates an outhouse:

And we were also amazed by the amount of crap people always had in their yards:

Or on their front porch:

And adorned with things like this:

This is a typical scene in a gas station – which serves as the cultural center (seriously) in most of the small towns we passed through… Note the scrawny guy with the mullet purchasing the Bud Light and the fat woman on the right. This is a representative sampling of something we observed over and over again. Everyone in the population was either overweight or meth-addict scrawny. No one looked healthy. There was no in-between.

I told you the gas station was the cultural center of these towns. People would congregate outside and converse for hours.

Being the center of culture, the interior of the gas station convenience stores would be covered in pictures like this:

This particular gas station (which we did not patronize), The Dixie Depot, stands out for its embrace of the values of the Confederacy…

We both loved how it reads “Confederate owned.” No it isn’t moron… To whom do you pay your taxes? To the Yankees… And notice how it says “Entering Civilization”. Having been inside, I can assure you that few things are further from the truth…

I’d be willing to bet that most readers of this site would not have guessed that such treasures could be purchased.

This was one of the charming customers inside.

These names were painted on the side of house… Seriously, where do they get names like “Idgy” or “Jesse Jewell” or “Buford Cumming” or Lee Dixon or Jess Kinney from?

Religion is everywhere. We found churches down old dirt logging roads miles from anywhere, in trailer parks and even one in the middle of a wildlife refuge.

Isn’t Primitive Baptist Church an oxymoron though?

Here we have granny mowing the dirt in a typical trailer park. I strongly encourage you to click on the pictures to bring them to full size, so you can really appreciate the expressions on the faces of the individuals pictured below. And don’t miss the writing on the trailer granny is mowing in front of.

This pig-faced child was dumbfounded by our arrival in his small trailer park. Leaving the county is a big deal for these people and so our arrival in a vehicle with Florida license plates and dressed as obvious outsiders must have been akin to what we would feel if aliens landed in our front yards.

While dining in a family restaurant, we were stunned by this man’s mullet and I felt compelled to document it. It wasn’t until reviewing the pictures later that I noticed the gun on the table in front of him – a not uncommon occurrence in such parts.

On this day, we fortunately stumbled across Harold Grant Black with his goats just as we were about to lose our minds.

The South is more than decay and crumbling infrastructure though…

And more than trailer parks…

With surly residents…

Something that struck us repeatedly was the natural beauty of the area and the capacity of humans to spoil and pollute such an environment…

This natural beauty is something I will expand on in future “Southern Exposure” posts along with, of course, more pictures of depravity and stories to shock and titillate you, my dear readers.