Emanuel County has its own vocabulary and we understand each other completely if we stick to it. If our kinfolk used certain slang words to get their message across centuries ago, then why change now? We stretch our consonants and cut our vowels in the middle, which produces our unique southern drawl.
Try as we might, the ain’ts’ and can’ts’ keep slipping from our vocal cords and northern people will never convince us that our southern delicacy is called a “pecon pie,” rather than a “pecan” one!
Last Sunday, while eating at a local fried chicken restaurant, I overheard a local farmer say, “That was the best fried chicken I’ve had in a coon’s age.” He got his point across because in Emanuel County, a coon’s age is a long, long time.
I’ve never understood why an English teacher could have the heart to give a student a failing grade on a final English exam. How could a student fail English when it is their very own spoken language? Surely they should receive at least a passing grade of 70 because they are able to communicate every day through the spoken word. If they are not familiar with conversing in everyday English, then we have a problem, grade-wise.
If the majority of our great, iconic southern writers were graded on their English, prose and punctuation, they would fail miserably; They often strayed from proper English. But, the very fact of their creative style and unique way of expressing themselves has secured their place in history as great southern writes. Among these great writers are Mark Twain, Faulkner Flannery O’Connor and Harper Lee who wrote, To Kill A Mockingbird.
Recently, our preacher visited our home at Lake Luck. We were sitting on the front porch enjoying his visit. A buddy of mine pulled into our driveway with his wide-brimmed fishing hat on his head and a couple of short, stubby fishing poles sticking out of his back window. He got out of the car, cleared his throat and said to me, “Do you want to go to the Maple Hole and catch a mess of stump knockers?”
The preacher’s ears seemed to perk up. “What in the world are stump knockers? I’ve never heard of it.”
My friend, John, spoke up. “Oh, they are short, stubby, little fish that are the width of your two fingers and dash, dart and swim around fallen branches and old tree stumps. Not much meat on the bones but with their colorful, glistening scales and clear red eyes, they are the prettiest fish in Emanuel County’s waters, streams and creeks.”
