Sweet Home Alabama

A big green sign reading "Welcome to Sweet Home Alabama" brought a smile to my face as we drove in from Georgia.  I must add that upon crossing the border, the trees looked more lush and vivid.

I'm obviously not the only one who appreciated the sign, because the next day as Darlene and Brooks drove into Alabama, my sister also specifically mentioned it making her happy.

No state in the union has been maligned to the extent of Alabama, and while I'm not going to say that it has been sin-free in the past, it was used as the poster child for the worst elements of racism by everyone from Water Cronkite to Neil Young to CNN.  As recently as last week, I saw memes on facebook calling for Governor Kay Ivey to be impeached for signing an Alabama legislative bill on abortion limitations.  The memes illogically framed the "heartbeat law" as "racist," because they say it would affect African-American women more than others.  While there are logical debate points to be made on both sides of any complicated issue, how can anyone be called a white supremacist for protecting the rights of mostly African-American unborn babies?

Having visited Alabama frequently since I was a child, allowing me to know family who live there, I knew the claims have always been greatly exaggerated in the general, even if some were true in specific cases.

The smear has been so complete that it is embarrassing to admit we believe otherwise.  As a band from Jacksonville, Florida, famously sang, "I miss Alabammy once again, and I think it's a sin."  No one should ever tar an entire group of people with the same brush, and in this case, it proves the accusers guilty of exactly what they accuse those they tar and feather.

Perhaps others knowing this truth for themselves is what accounts for the enduring appeal of the Lynyrd Skynyrd 1974 anthem quoted on that sign.



An alternative truth about Alabama is that my family members who live there say a prayer aloud before sharing a meal together, whether at home or in a restaurant, thanking God for His many blessings.

While they believe their history has been maligned, Alabamians don't feel compelled to leave their beautiful home state to prove that to self-righteous hypocrites who might be encouraged to move there.

No, they enjoy having open space and home lots considerably larger than postage stamps.  They'd just as soon never have Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders moving into their neighborhoods.

The racial tensions stipulated to have been worse in the past have dissolved more dramatically than in other regions where they think themselves superior on the issue.  I doubt most African-Americans would prefer life in a northern big city over Sweet Home Alabama.

The state has nonetheless encouraged industry to relocate there, bringing jobs to a region where textile manufacturing jobs long ago moved overseas to lower labor-cost countries.  Many foreign auto factories have moved south.  Korean signs can be seen along the highways on large concrete buildings where I assume they manufacture or distribute auto parts or tech products.

It's always interesting how many perceived social problems can be solved with meaningful employment.

However, we weren't there to work.  Our time was spent visiting family, and while I try to interject some history and travel information about most places we visit, the reality is that the best parts of a family visit don't translate well to written words.  The feeling of being with people you love and sharing meals and conversation is a different kind of bliss.

We enjoyed many great meals.  Cousin Angie grilled steaks and made delicious sides including baked beans and salad for Julie and me upon our arrival, and there seemed to be enough leftover to feed the rest of our family if they arrived unexpectedly early.

The next day after Darlene and Brooks arrived, we all went to lunch at Prattville Pasta Mill, where Angie's fireman son Zach and his fiancée met us for a great southern meal of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and banana pudding.

After resting up in the afternoon, we met at Catfish House for another of my favorite meals, cornmeal-battered catfish and hush puppies.  Cousin Donald was there with his son Michael and two granddaughters, as was cousin Reba and her husband Mike.  Donald, Reba, Steve and Angie were the cousins we spent the most time with on summer vacations, as the other cousins were all college kids in my memories, so it was great reunion.

Unfortunately, when we have a lot of people gathered together, it is hard to spend a lot of time talking to individuals.

Reba and Mike had just returned from watching their granddaughter graduate at Mississippi State University, so they were too tired to go by Angie and Steve's house after the meal.  I hoped to see them the next day on our whirlwind, but it didn't come to pass.

Michael is facing some medical issues that factored into them also heading home rather than going all the way to Angie's.

As happens far too often at family gatherings, I was so busy enjoying discussions that I failed to take photos. In any case, it was wonderful seeing everyone.