What is the best part of the South?

“Best part in the Country!”

That is what Mr. Trent, a guy living out here on the farm, says.

William Faulkner.

Mark Twain.

Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.

Mr. Sean Dietrich.

Writers.

There is pecan pie & fried chicken & hot sauce.

The first trip I remember coming to the South, it was with my Mother, brother & sister. It was to take us to see my Grandpa Bill, aunt Edith & Bill’s Wife, Babe. Grandpa Bill was not Our “actual” grandfather. He was my Grandfather’s brother; however, Babe & Bill were Grandparents… in the best possible way the elderly can be Grandparents. Grandpa Bill called my sister “Baby Doll”.

Going to the local Parks was a favorite past time.

Accept for when I fell into some cacti.

Tring to get those damn little needles out of my palms a pain – LITERARLLY.

And I think Grandpa Bill dug those sons of bitches out of the garden at the side of his house.

I remember a Friday after school, after going to the school library (Mind You, I was in the fifth grade), & I got to check out my two favorite snake books.

That’s right: FAVORITE, as in I had checked them out before. I checked the out several times, in fact.

Those were very special trips for me. Going to Southern Ohio may not be Missoula, Mt., but, especially for a flatlander like me, Southern Ohio had mountains.

And I wanted to be a Mountain Man.

My mother would pack us up in The Van, loaded with snacks, & would sit in the back & read.

There was a large bridge on the Ohio/West Virgina border.

THAT was something special. For all of us, think.

It was if crossing the bridge led to a Magical Land.

Now: it would take-up an entire novel-length manuscript to even begin writing about my Grandpa Bill. A sweet & intelligent soul