Pretty Southern

Tag: #PrettySouthern

Visiting America’s Hometown, Laurel, Mississippi

My husband and I recently attended a wedding in his hometown, Hattiesburg, Mississippi. Later that weekend, we decided to check out the town of Laurel, Miss., home of the ever-popular HGTV show, “Hometown.”

Here’s what you need to know before I dive into all things Hometown. We lived in Hattiesburg for the first ten years of our marriage and then moved up to Tupelo. I have spent MANY days in the town of Laurel for both work and church responsibilities. My memory of what Laurel used to be and what it is now is entirely different!

Laurel used to be like many other small, forgotten towns with a few streets of beautiful historic homes and great potential. . The downtown buildings were abandoned, the roads unattended to, and many surrounding homes were declining rapidly. I recall telling my husband many years ago, “It’s such a shame. Laurel COULD be such a beautiful town.” Well, coulda, shoulda, woulda! Ben and Erin Napier made those comments come to life with their vision, love, and dedication to their hometown.

To be clear, Laurel still has work to do, as we all do, right? But I believe their journey has just begun! Home by home and project by project, the Napiers are buoying up the streets of their beloved Laurel.

The downtown shops that surround the well-known Hometown sights are bustling and vibrant. Roads are being repaired. Beautiful artwork and quotes have been painted on the sides of brick buildings. Up and coming restaurants, as well as established local eateries, are inviting and full of patrons. Laurel is starting to shine, and it’s a beautiful sight to see!

While walking the streets of Laurel, we met people from Wisconsin, California, and my husband’s hometown of Hattiesburg! It’s incredible that this small town, the Napier’s, and their show have attracted people from all over the country and just down the road at the same time.

Naturally, the first thing I wanted to do was to check out the famous Laurel Mercantile Co. So we parked the car, we took a few photos in front of the blue truck we all know and love, and then everything became blurry for a bit, as I indulged in all things Hometown and handcrafted!

The Laurel Mercantile Co. is full of beautiful, tasteful items handpicked by Ben and Erin. Cutting boards crafted by Ben, Erin’s signature headbands, artwork, candles, t-shirts, canvas bags, and so much more! At The Laurel Mercantile Co., everything has been made in America, and most of it is Mississippi-made and as we needed to drive all the way there. We got contact information for a lawyer, like those at Valiente Mott, in case an accident happens.

The entire shop is full of heirloom quality, locally made goods. So, if you love to truly shop locally, their mercantile is a dream come true!

After taking in the craftsmanship and beauty of original art, and all things mercantile, we walked down the street to the Scotsman General Store. At the entrance of the general store, my husband became like a kid at Christmas time!

Walking into the Scotsman General Store is like walking into your favorite childhood memory. Unfortunately, they were not filming on this rainy Saturday, but we still enjoyed all of the Scotsman brand original handmade wood products; they are gorgeous!

You can grab a glass bottle of old-fashioned soda and some nickel candy and see Ben Napier’s woodshop where he creates the custom pieces you see on their show.

Flannel shirts, delicious pantry items, candles, cologne, beard balms, and beautifully crafted leather items are for purchase as well!

My favorite part of visiting the Scotsman General Store was a conversation with one employee. He happened to be one of Ben Napier’s “main wood guys,” at least that’s what he called himself.

He welcomed us to the store and asked where we were from. Being from the area, we told him how amazed we were at the growth and beauty of Laurel. We learned that he and his wife had moved to Laurel about a year and a half ago from Arizona. Their children were grown up and gone, and they thought Laurel, Mississippi looked like a nice place to live. He enthusiastically told us that they had sold their home in Arizona, moved to Laurel, bought a lovely home, and have been debt-free for a year! This sweet man said, “I have a job that I love, and it’s just awesome what Ben and Erin are doing here.”

To which I replied, “I don’t even know you, but I’m so happy for you!” He smiled and said, “Listen, you guys are young, don’t ever give up on yourselves or your ideas.”

Wow. Admittedly, I love my purchases from both of these fantastic stores, but that conversation still has me smiling. To me, it best represents the spirit that is Laurel, also known as the “City Beautiful.” So appropriate, don’t you agree?

Ben and Erin Napier seem to have this innate sense of pride and purpose for their hometown. They dreamed of a new era of growth and prosperity for Laurel, and I can’t imagine how fulfilling it must be to watch these dreams come to life.

Laurel (like many Mississippi towns) was once a bustling sawmill center in the early 1900s and earned its title as the “Yellow Pine Capital of the World.” But, like many small towns throughout America, it has seen its fair share of economic hardships, recession, time and change, that eventually led to its decline. I think that’s why so many of us love to watch Hometown because everyone loves a great comeback story!

The Napiers are not only restoring homes; they are restoring hope. Hope in building a prosperous life in a small town. Hope in connecting newcomers to locals. Hope in restoring industry and also restoring hope in the American dream.

Ben and Erin Napier’s vision for their hometown in Laurel, Mississippi, showcases a great life lesson that we all need to remember…

Lift those you love.

August 9, 2021
The Origin Story of Steel Magnolias

Have you watched Steel Magnolias lately?

The other night I popped some popcorn, grabbed a Coke Zero, and indulged my Southern female senses to the very max! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget the tissue–because we all know we need a few–dozen when watching this iconic film.

I’ve watched this film many times, but after watching it, I decided to learn more about its background as a play. Prepare yourself to laugh and cry while reading my findings. You might as well go ahead and grab some tissues too!

The Creation of Steel Magnolias

Steel Magnolias was originally a play written by Robert Harling, a true Southerner hailing from Louisiana. Harling based the work on his experience of his sister Susan dying from complications arising from Type 1 diabetes. He reimagined the last three years of her life as a play to process his grief, with encouragement from the acting class workshop he attended in New York City.

Harling originally wrote it as a short story to share with his nephew, and within ten days, his short story evolved into an entire play. In fact, one of Nicole Kidman’s earliest roles in her career was the part of Shelby in Harling’s original Steel Magnolias play.

When the play gained popularity, Ray Stark bought the film rights and began developing a movie adaptation with help from Gene Callahan, an old friend from Louisiana. Steel Magnolias would later be filmed in Natchitoches, Lousiana, Robert Harling’s hometown.

Hello Hollywood!

The play had been such a success on Broadway that Bette Davis herself met with Harling and requested that she star in the movie and Katherine Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor too! Wow, what a cast that would have been!

During the film’s shoot, a major Hollywood writers’ strike occurred, and Robert Harling could not be involved in any rewrites. So, he did what any sincerely invested playwright would do: he visited the set incognito to stay involved with his passion project.

I can’t imagine anyone else other than Julia Roberts portraying Shelby. However, she was third in line for the role, after Meg Ryan and Winona Ryder. Robert Harling said, “She walked into the room, and that smile lit everything up, and I said, ‘that’s my sister,’ so she joined the party, and she was magnificent.”

The Authenticity of Steel Magnolias

If you have seen the film, then you know the main character, Shelby is sick. We all know these scenes are coming; however, they always trigger such real emotions, don’t they?

Perhaps, part of this is that instead of using actors to play the hospital staff who care for Shelby, filmmakers asked real doctors and nurses to fill these roles. Not only that, but the medical staff that appeared in the film were the same ones that cared for Robert Harling’s sister Susan during her final days.

The nurse who turns off Shelby’s life support in the film was played by the real-life nurse who provided palliative care for Susan. Despite being a scene that must have hit very close to home, Robert Harling’s mother insisted on being on set while Shelby’s death was filmed. His mother also insisted on staying until the end to see Julia Roberts get up and walk away once filming stopped. Not only did Harling write a successful play about his sister, a strong woman, it is clear that his mother was also a true steel magnolia.

Did you know the name Steel Magnolias comes from the hidden strength of what at first seem like extremely delicate flowers?

In a 2017 interview, writer Robert Harling said, “My mother would always say to handle magnolia blossoms carefully because they bruise so easily.” This combination of steeliness and gentleness inspired the name of his award-winning play and subsequent film. As we all know, the leading ladies of this film are both beautiful and delicate and as tough as steel.

Fun Facts

The historic house in which Steel Magnolias was filmed is a bed and breakfast where fans can book themselves for the night. Looking for a fun girls’ trip? Its website promises a “traditional bed and breakfast experience, with a full breakfast, along with true Southern hospitality.” Who is ready for an authentic Steel Magnolia experience?

In the original Steel Magnolias stage play, all of the action takes place in the beauty salon. So when the set director went looking for the perfect, quirky beauty shop to film in, she found one right there in town!

When she approached the owner about filming there, she promised to purchase her all new equipment when filming concluded. She stayed faithful to her word and revamped the local beauty shop after borrowing the old version of the store for the movie.

Speaking of beauty, both Dolly Parton and Daryl Hannah had to study hairdressing to avoid any burns, miscuts, or slip-ups while in character.

Who wants Dolly to do their hair? I know I do!

There were no men at all in the original stage play. Just like the characters in the film, the leading figures in the play form close female friendships. However, one key difference makes the action and dialogue in the play all the more unusual. Although the play characters do speak about men, no man ever sets foot on the stage.

The director of the film, Hebert Ross, was notorious for being quite critical and challenging. The all-star female cast’s bond grew stronger and stronger as they continued to support each other throughout the movie’s filming.

Harling said that he raced through writing the Steel Magnolias script, finishing it all in one go.

“The events that inspired it were so powerful that, after I found the story arena, it just poured out into my typewriter in a 24/7 tsunami of Southernness.”

Thank you, Mr. Harling, for your tsunami of Southerness. Thirty-two years later, we are still moved by your words and positive representation of strong female roles. What a wonderful reminder to not only strive to be a steel magnolia but to also recognize and appreciate the steel magnolias in our own lives.

Who are the southern Steel Magnolias in your life?

Editor’s note – credit to some of our favorite Southern publications including Country Living and Garden & Gun for their interviews with Harling.

June 27, 2021
Southern By Choice

Have you ever felt like you belonged somewhere else?

It’s almost as if you have your real identity, and then a geographic identity? Well, for much of my life, I have been a Northerner who always wanted to be a Southerner.

Born and raised in Ohio, I spent much of my time with my grandmother, who dreamed of being a southern belle. I would often stay the night with her and watched those iconic southern films that we all know and love. It might have been 20 degrees outside, but here we were on her orange velvet sofa, eating frozen grapes and practicing our best southern accents.

My grandmother stressed the importance of manners. She also taught me how to dress for every occasion, and above all else, how to be a lady! As I grew older, I vividly remember her taking me to Merle Norman to have my “colors matched” so that my make-up would be subtle and lady-like. To this day, I can not pass a Merle Norman store and not think of her and smile. She was a true steel magnolia; in a northern landscape.

When I graduated from college, I applied to a teaching program in New Orleans, without any explanation, other than I just felt so incredibly drawn to southern culture. I thought it was my life mission to go and teach in the South. Life threw a curveball, and my application to this teaching program had been rejected, despite my confidence. I ended up accepting a fantastic job opportunity on the West coast.

Life was moving forward quickly, and I no longer thought about the South much as I used to. There were occasional moments where I had what one might call “heart pangs” when I would finish a great novel set in the South or talk to someone from there and think: “I really would love it there.”

However, the reality is, a book, a movie, or a conversation are not real reasons to move somewhere, right? Probably not, and they weren’t for me. Some might call it intuition, while others might call it a spiritual experience, but sometimes you already know what you already know.

On a sunny day in April, I met the man who would soon be my husband. Tall, dark, handsome, and unbeknownst to me, he was from South Mississippi. He sounded like Johnny Cash, and we closed down the Dairy Keene on our first date. After being politely asked to leave, we continued our three-hour conversation at a nearby park.

After our engagement, my husband and I visited Mississippi. He wanted to show me where he grew up and introduce me to extended family and friends that I had not met yet; I felt instantly at home.

We drove through town and down the backroads in his obnoxiously loud, old, green truck; his pride and joy from his high school days. As we were driving through the tall pines and crepe myrtle trees, I just knew we would end up moving back there one day. Two years later, we did! I have been a Mississippian ever since.

I had visited several southern states throughout my life, but I had never been to Mississippi. Honestly, I do not believe I had ever given Mississippi much thought. I feel like many people forget about Mississippi. Or, when they do remember The Magnolia State, it is often for something negative.

So, let me be clear when I say I LOVE Mississippi. It’s not for everyone, but it’s for me. It has history, hospitality, culture, fabulous food, the blues, and a literary wrap sheet that makes any book lover swoon.

The great William Faulkner once said: “To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi.”

Amen, Mr. Faulkner, amen.

For years my narrative has been “Ohio is home.” It’s been an exciting and very natural transition for me over the last decade or so, and now “Mississippi is home.” I am incredibly grateful for my northern roots and southern wings, and I wholeheartedly believe that we can have both!

Often named as a “southern transplant,” I have heard many conversations about being a born and raised southerner, southern traditions, and southern ways. So here is an interesting question: What about the people who choose to be Southern?

People, like me, who love “southern living” so much that they’ve left behind four seasons, a different culture, and probably some family and friends to be southern. That’s loyalty and love if you ask me! My passion for the South continues to grow, just like my hair in the middle of August!

Being southern is so much more than an accent or a monogram; it is a way of life.

Locals support locals, neighbors help neighbors, and the everyday things we often take for granted, are appreciated and valued. Sure, I’ve had to learn a few new words, and I’ve encountered fire ants more than I’d like to admit! I had no idea what my life was missing without grits and greens, and I’m on a first-name basis with everyone at our local grocery store. My week wouldn’t be complete without Ms. Liz telling me to have a blessed day, and you know what? I always do.

Has there been a learning curve? Yes. Has it been worth it? Oh, yes, ma’am! There’s nothing and nowhere else like the South. Intention and tradition are so alive and well in the South that it’s moved into my heart, put up a white picket fence, and stayed there.

As I listen to the sound of cicadas from my front porch in the evening, I often wonder what life would be like if I had lived somewhere else. Life is what you make it, of course, so I know I would be happy in other places too. But here, in Mississippi, I’m at home.

So, even though I wasn’t born in the South, I live here now, and it’s by choice, not by birthright or chance. I used to wonder what it would be like to be a Southerner. Now, I do believe I am one. I am Southern, by choice.

Why do you choose to call the South home?

May 15, 2021
Grace Cunningham Falls in Love with the Boy Next Door

Vivienne Grace Cunningham was the youngest daughter of Caroline and Randy Cunningham.

Named after her great-grandmother, Vivienne, everyone called her Grace. It was a trend started by her older sister, Kate (the middle Cunningham child) whose full Christian name is Georgia Katharine Cunningham. As the youngest of the three Cunningham girls, Grace earned the nickname ‘Angel Baby’ for her sweet features and cherub-like disposition.

Unlike her two blonde sisters, Grace looked the most like their daddy with the same auburn curls and bright blue eyes. Grace was a true little sister, being six years younger than her oldest sister, Macy, and four years younger than Kate. She was several grades behind her sisters, although they all attended Magnolia Academy, one of Atlanta’s premier private schools. The only home Grace has ever known is in Atlanta’s most affluent neighborhood. Grace was just a baby when her family moved from Marietta to their big house in Buckhead.

The Angel Baby didn’t realize the world of privilege she was brought into, and how hard both her parents had worked to make a name for the Cunningham family. Grace simply knew that she was happy and loved her family very much.

She grew up beloved by others. Everyone who ever met Grace said she was “just the sweetest” and “such a little Southern belle.” It was her mama Caroline’s best friend, Birdie Roberts, who bequeathed her the nickname of Angel Baby. Birdie and her husband, Trey, lived next door and had four sons—Jake, Caleb, Wesley, and Christopher—who were all about the same ages as the Cunningham girls. Grace and Christopher were in the same grade together, as were Kate and Wesley.

One summer, when they were all at the country club pool together, Grace overheard Birdie say to her mama, “I hope one of your girls marries one of my boys.” Grace was only a little girl and not interested in boys yet, so she kept swimming without much thought.

Until one day, when she was in the eighth grade, Vivienne Grace Cunningham fell in love with Wesley Wade Roberts.

Although Grace had known the Roberts family since she was a baby, it wasn’t until a fateful day in spring when she realized Wesley was the man of her dreams.

Grace had been invited to her first boy-girl party. When Mama Caroline heard from Birdie that Chris was invited to that same party Grace was also attending, she and Birdie came up with the brilliant idea of carpooling. They agreed Wesley would drop the kids off and Kate would pick them up later.

At this point, Kate and Wesley were seniors at Magnolia Academy and both had their own cars. They were about to graduate then go off to college. It was a warm early spring evening, and the sun was starting to set as Wesley’s old Bronco came chugging up the Cunningham’s driveway.

His car was lifted, raised up on muddy tires. Grace thought, “I shouldn’t have worn a skirt,” since she was going to be riding in that contraption. She glanced down at her patterned sundress with its Lilly Pulitzer flowers, hoping the inside of the car was cleaner than the outside.

“Hey Grace,” Christopher Roberts said as he jumped out of the front seat to help her hop in the back. It as the first time she and Chris had been in the same car together. He was cute in his own right with his floppy brown hair and amber eyes. All the Roberts boys were good looking, and Grace was already a bit nervous to share a car with her cute classmate.

“Hi there,” she replied climbing into the truck. She settled into the old fabric seat, trying to ignore the slight mildew smell.

Then Grace saw Wesley Wade Roberts, smiling at her from behind the wheel. The butterflies in her stomach had a fit.

“Hey Grace,” Wesley beamed. Grinning at her from ear-to-ear, she was drawn to his smile, a set of white, square teeth. She’d never seen any boy smile like this before. The only slight imperfection was a teensy gap between his two front teeth, to learn about this sort of deformations Click this link. That made him look rugged, even more dashing, and then there were dimples, tan skin, freckles, the hint of a beard—really peach fuzz—from not shaving for a day or two.

Sweet Jesus, he looked so fine. And then Grace looked into his eyes: these blue-gray-hazel eyes which reflected the baby blue polo he was wearing. A dirty UGA cap covered his wavy blonde hair which curled naturally at the ends tucked behind his ears.

“Sorry about the smell,” he said. “I went camping last night and forgot to roll the windows up before it rained.”

“Oh it’s fine,” she said as her heart fluttered. Grace was apprehensive to say anything more because she had the most hideous braces. This was before the days of 360dentalcare when every adolescent kid was forced to wear chunky metal on their teeth for at least a good year.

Dentistry is one of the oldest medical professions, dating back to 7000 B.C. with the Indus Valley Civilization. However, it wasn’t until 5000 B.C. that descriptions related to dentistry and tooth decay were available. Learn more from local expert dentists using the link.

“Buckle up kids, and I’ll get y’all to your party. I’ve got my own event to attend this evening. Mom said to call Kate when you’re ready to be picked up, but if you need me I’ll swing back by.”
“Nah, Wesley, we’re good,” Chris replied.
Grace wanted to shout, “Take me with you!” Instead, she quietly wished she was going to his party.
“I’m really sorry about the smell,” Wesley said turning around to face her. “If you roll your window down it will help but it might mess up your hair.”
“It’s okay,” Grace said, taking a hairband from her wrist to pull back her long auburn curls. She rolled down her car window, taking in the fresh Georgia spring air. Pollen season had passed and the night was fragrant with fresh pine and blooming flowers. Grace stared at the back of Wesley’s driver’s seat the whole five minutes they cruised through Buckhead to that party. Her eyes were fixated on the way those blonde curls popped out beneath the bottom of Wesley’s baseball cap.

When they arrived at their friend’s house, Chris popped from the front seat calling “Thanks, Wes,” as he bounced out of the Bronco. Grace took her time unbuckling her seat belt.
“You got that?” he asked smiling.
“Um, yeah,” she blushed. Looking up at him grinning at her in the rearview mirror. He made her flush even harder. “Thanks for driving us.”
“Not a problem,” he smiled. “Be good and have fun.”

She didn’t want to leave him. How had Wesley gotten so cute without her ever knowing? But what was up with him telling her to “be good” like a big brother? Would he always only think of her as little Grace, the Angel Baby?

That night at the party, as all the other eighth graders gathered around for spin-the-bottle, Grace found herself on the back deck of her friend’s house, looking up at the stars and wishing that Heaven would see fit for her to see Wesley again.

This was in April, and in May, Wesley graduated then went off to the University of Georgia. Even though Athens is only about sixty miles from Atlanta, Grace thought it might as well be a different planet. Her sister Macy was already a junior at UGA and she barely came home except for a few times a semester. The only time she’d see Macy is if her parents went up for a football game in the fall and they’d all tailgate together. Grace hoped she could convince Mama and Daddy to buy season tickets with the Roberts, or for Daddy’s business for Cunningham Construction, but that never happened.

For the next four years, Grace loved Wesley from afar. She’d barely see Wesley except on the rare occasions he was home for the holidays or met up with the Cunninghams for a tailgate in Athens. When he was home during the summer, Grace spent as much time as possible at the country club where she’d scour for his figure on the golf course, or lay for hours by the pool hoping he would make an appearance.

Alas, if Wesley did, he would always be too far out of reach. It’s not like Grace could try to flirt with him as he swam across the pool, not with Mama Caroline sunbathing next to her. Or if she was riding in Daddy Randy’s cart around the golf course and spotted Wesley across the green, it would take every bit of restraint in her not to dart across the grass to give him a hug.

When Wesley did see Grace, he’d always make polite conversation. Afterall, he’d practically grown up with the Cunninghams. Wesley would give Grace a big grin showing off those rows of perfectly square teeth. His hazel eyes that always seemed to reflect whatever color Polo shirt he was wearing: navy, forest green, or even steely silver. Wesley’s eyes had Grace’s heart.

But when a girl is under the age of eighteen, society doesn’t take kindly to the idea of her chasing after an older college boy. Heavens, though, he was all Grace ever wanted in a guy. Her affection for Wesley is why she’d never had a boyfriend, even though she was now a senior and about to graduate from Magnolia Academy. No other guy could measure up to Wesley Wade Roberts.

Grace had grown up to be as pretty as Macy and nearly as smart as Kate, although not as pragmatic. Other boys would ask Grace out and, as politely as she could, she’d turn them down. Grace had earned the reputation of being a prude but she didn’t care. Her heart only pined for Wesley. But she didn’t tell a soul. Over the years, she kept wishing on the stars to be with Wesley and this secret stayed in the deepest place of her young soul.

This perplexed Mama Caroline who wondered why Grace hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. When Macy was Grace’s age, Daddy was practically having to beat them away, and Lord knows how many boys Macy had gone through while at UGA. But not the Angel Baby. She just wasn’t interested in any other guy, much to Daddy Randy’s delight.

By her calculations, Grace wasn’t sure when she’d ever be able to be in the same city with Wesley again. But then, by God’s grace, during the spring of her junior year, she heard from Birdie that Wesley would have to take a ‘victory lap’ to do a fifth year of college. Grace could finally be together with Wesley in Athens, away from Mama and Daddy, and start her own life with the boy she’d longed for.

Knowing it would take good grades to get into UGA, Grace studied as hard as she could to make straight A’s. It was one of the sole reasons now that Grace wanted to go to Athens, for the promise of being with her handsome Wesley. She nailed the SATs and gained early admittance to UGA. Grace sailed through her senior year on cloud nine, for soon she would be heading to Athens and reunited with her love.

While all this was happening in Grace’s world, her sisters were off having their own adventures.

Macy had won Miss Georgia but didn’t even place in the national competition. After she’d graduated from UGA, Macy moved to New York to become a Rockette. Much to their parents’ delight, Macy was dating the son of Georgia’s governor, Campbell Brayden. Mama had told Grace she thought Campbell would propose soon.

Kate had gotten into Georgia’s Institute of Technology, studied abroad in Europe for a year, then graduated with her undergraduate degree from in three years. Now she was finishing up her master’s at Tech and wasn’t even twenty-two. The same fall Grace was applying to UGA, Kate was taking the LSAT with hopes of attending an Ivy League school.

And then, right after Thanksgiving, it was about eight a.m. when the phone rang in the Cunningham’s kitchen. Grace was wrapping up her breakfast and closest to the phone. She hit the speaker button and with a mouth full of biscuit saying, “Hello, Cunningham residence.”
“Hey, Grace, good morning. It’s Campbell.”
Grace about spit out her biscuit. “Oh, hi!” She wasn’t expecting it to be Macy’s boyfriend so early. “How are you? Is everything okay?”
“Yes ma’am. Sure is. Any chance your daddy is around? There’s something I need to talk to him about.”
“Yeah, one sec.” Grace finished chewing and swallowed hard on a big bite, knowing she shouldn’t be talking with her mouthful.
“Daddy!” she called upstairs through the foyer. “Campbell’s on the phone for you.”
“Comin’!” Randy hollered back. Grace listened, waiting for Randy to pick up the other end.
“Hey Campbell, everything okay?”
“Yes sir, all is well. I’m actually going to be in Atlanta today and wanted to see if I could stop by the house or your office to talk to you about somethin’.”
Grace was intrigued but knew she probably shouldn’t be listening.
“Angel Baby,” her daddy said, “If you’re on the other end, you can get off now.”
“Ok, sorry.” Grace clicked off.

About a minute later, Caroline came down into the kitchen asking Grace, “Who was that on the phone?”
“Campbell,” Grace said. “He was callin’ to talk to Daddy.”
“This early? Was something wrong?”
“I dunno,” Grace replied returning to her biscuit. “Daddy made me hang up.”
“Hmm,” Caroline said perplexed. Randy walked into the kitchen soon after. “What’s goin’ on honey?”
“Campbell wants to meet with me today,” Randy said. “He’s coming to Atlanta and said he wants to ask me somethin’. I’m pretty sure he’s comin’ to get my permission to propose to Macy.”
“Whaaaat?” Caroline drawled. “Seriously?”
“You bet. I do believe so.” He said, smiling, then looked to Grace. “Looks like you might be getting a brother-in-law, Angel.”

Grace smiled. Not only because she was excited for her sister, but also because she was thinking of the day when Wesley would call her daddy to ask for his permission to marry her.

August 14, 2018
Georgia Katharine Cunningham – The “Li’l Liberal”

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Georgia Katherine Cunningham but everyone called her Kate.

Kate was born with entirely too much gumption. When she was a baby, she actually picked her own name. She was so independent that on her first day of life, lying in her hospital crib in the nursery–where Kate’s father, Randy, was trying to capture her first moments of life on camera–Kate refused to cooperate.

He kept saying, “Georgia. Georgia. Look over here, Georgia,” yet Kate wouldn’t acknowledge his presence. So he tried, “Georgia Katherine. Katherine. Sweetheart. Sugar Bear,” and nothing worked. Finally Randy said, “Kate! Kate! Look over here.” At that, Kate rolled over and smiled at her father.

Some doctors say newborns don’t smile, but Randy took it as a sign. He went back to the room where his wife, Caroline, was resting with their oldest daughter, Macy, and Jacqueline, Caroline’s mother, his girls’ “Grand-Mère”.
“Well, we can’t call the baby Georgia,” Randy told his family.
“Why ever not?” Caroline asked. “We already filled out the birth certificate.”
“She won’t respond to her name,” he said.
“Of course she doesn’t know her name,” Caroline protested. “She’s only a few hours old.”
“I know, but she responded to Kate,” and Randy recounted the story of how their second daughter preferred to be called Kate.
“There are lots of Southern women who go by their middle names,” Grand-Mère stated. “And wasn’t Kate your mother’s name?”
“It was indeed,” Randy smiled.

That was it. From then on out she was Kate. However, Kate knew she was in trouble whenever Caroline hollered, “Georgia Katherine!” But Kate was rarely on her mom’s rotten side. Her older sister, Macy, had that covered.

As sisters only two years apart, Kate and Macy looked similar with the same light blonde hair but Kate had blue eyes like Randy while Macy had green eyes from Caroline and Grand-Mère. Despite the fact that Kate and Macy could almost be twins, the girls had very little in common. There are a couple of incidents with Macy, all before the age of five, which had a profound impact on Kate’s life.

Kate’s first memory is from the day her younger sister, Grace, was born. She was at her preschool, taking her morning nap. It was dark in the playroom and Kate slept on a cot close to the floor. She remembers hearing Randy’s deep voice waking her up saying, “Kate, I’ve come to pick you up. Your baby sister was born this morning. I’ve got cookies and apple juice waiting for you in the car.” She doesn’t remember what happened next but there’s a picture of her and Macy crowding onto Caroline’s hospital bed with the three of them holding baby Grace.

The rest of Kate’s early childhood memories are a montage. Kate remembers the day her family moved into their new big house in Atlanta, right before she started kindergarten. Though she can’t recall the tiny house in Marietta her parents first owned in the suburbs, Kate remembers standing in the long driveway of their new home with its whitewashed brick and wide front porch, thinking it was the prettiest house she had ever seen. She gazed across the yard with a few pine trees in clusters.

“Dad,” she said to her father passing by, “did you have to cut down lots of trees to build our house?”
Randy stopped, put the box he was carrying down, and said, “Well Kate, we did have to use wood to build our new house. You know houses are made of wood.”
“I know that. I want to know if you had to chop down lots of trees to make room for building our house.”
Randy stooped down to Kate’s level. “Sugar Bear, we did have to remove a few dozen trees so we could live here.”
“That’s sad,” Kate said. “We shouldn’t have to kill so many trees.”
Puzzled by his daughter’s statement, especially since Randy used to work in a timber yard, he thought for a moment before responding. “Tell you what, Kate. Why don’t you help me plant new trees? We can decide where to put them together, and we’ll buy even more baby trees than what we took down in the first place. How does that sound?”

Kate hugged her father. One of her next memories is walking around their big yard, picking out places to plant more trees. They marked the spots by sticking a flag in the ground. A truck arrived with lots of saplings: oaks, maples, poplars, dogwoods and pear trees.
“Dad, can we plant them now?” she asked
“How about you get started digging the holes?” he said, handing her a small shovel plus a pair of child’s gardening gloves in bright light blue and a pink rubber knee pad. Kate remembers walking along the property, digging holes for a few trees before the landscaping crew, like the ones from landscape renovations in Hinsdale, came the next day to finish planting them all.

Kate’s next memory was when she learned about cancer because the Cunningham’s black lab, Battle, was dying from it. Battle was miserable with pain and hiding under her parents’ big four-poster bed. Kate laid down on the floor trying to convince him to come out. Battle snapped at her, and Randy heard Kate cry out, rushing in to scoop her up out of the master bedroom. It’s Kate’s last memory of their dog. They had to put poor Battle down shortly after that.

Her memories are crisp, especially the painful ones. The Cunningham girls had a big playroom on the second floor of their new house. Mama Caroline was always on them about cleaning up their toys “or else.” There was one afternoon where Macy was screaming at Kate to help her pick up the bevy of Barbie dolls scattered across their playroom. The floor was covered with Barbie’s dresses, shoes, and a variety of pink plastic accessories.

“Kaaaa-te!” Macy screeched. “Clean up!”
“I will if you do!” Kate shrieked back.
“I am cleaning!” Macy shouted as she chucked Barbie’s pink Corvette right at Kate’s head. Kate turned around trying to dodge the toy car, but it smacked her right in the back of the noggin. Kate touched her hair and got a little blood on her tiny fingertips.
“Mo-mmmmm!” Kate wailed. Caroline rushed upstairs into their playroom to find Kate crouched on the floor with blood on her hands.
“What in the world! What are y’all doing up here? How did this happen?”
“Macy threw Barbie’s car at me!”
“Macy Bonaventure Cunningham!”
“She started it! I was only trying to clean up.”
“Go downstairs right now, Macy. Sit in the chair in the dining room. You’re in time-out.”
“For how long?”
“Until I say so. Now scoot.”

Caroline carried Kate to the kitchen where she fetched her trusty witch hazel from the refrigerator. She dabbed some on a paper towel pulling back Kate’s hair from her scalp to place it on the cut.

“Ow! Mom. That stings.”
“We can’t have it getting infected. Does it hurt much?”
“It just stings,” Kate whimpered.
“Don’t be such a baby!” Macy called from her perch in the token ‘time-out chair. Macy’s arms were crossed and she kicked her feet dangling off the seat.
“Macy, be nice. Ladies don’t act like that to one another. If you apologize to Kate, you can end your time out.”
“She should apologize to me.”
“Don’t be sassy, Macy.”
“Kate wasn’t helping to clean up.”
“That’s no reason for you to throw your toys. She’s your younger sister, and I expect better behavior from you.”
“Fine Mama,” Macy huffed. “I’m sorry Kate.”
“Say it like you mean it, and give your sister a hug.”

Macy popped down from the time-out chair and padded down towards Kate. She put one arm around her sister for a half-hearted hug.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” she simpered.
“That’s nice girls,” Caroline said. “Y’all go finish cleaning up that playroom, and then I’ll fix you a snack.”
Kate had stopped bleeding and left the kitchen to follow Macy up the back staircase.
“You’re such a tattletale,” Macy said as they started picking up Barbie’s things. Kate didn’t reply back. She didn’t want to fight anymore with her sister.

It’s moments like this that are so clear from Kate’s childhood. She can see Grace taking her first steps. Kate can also remember her fun moments from kindergarten, like when she put on her school uniform for the first time. She can still visualize her classroom at Magnolia Academy with its small cubbies, tons of books, the rice table, bright colored blocks, and the smell of bleach.

Kate’s kindergarten teacher told her she would become the first woman president.

That same year, Macy got a golden retriever for her birthday. It had been about a year since poor Battle passed, and when Randy asked Macy what she wanted for her birthday, she declared, “Daddy. I want a little gold puppy.” How could he say no to that?

As a family, they went to the animal shelter together, Grace toddling holding Caroline’s hand with Kate standing back as Macy and Randy looked through every cage.
“Daddy…” Macy whined. “They don’t have any gold puppies. I want a little gold puppy.” She said this in front of a rather sad-looking beagle that Kate thought would’ve made a great pet after the loss of Battle. But it was Macy’s birthday and the pup was her present. Shortly after, Randy saw an advertisement in the newspaper for purebred golden retriever puppies. One day the girls came home from school to find a fluffy golden ball of fur dragging a teddy bear around the kitchen.
“It’s my gold puppy!” Macy screamed dropping her backpack to rush towards the puppy. She sat on the floor and pulled the dog into her arms. “Is it a boy or girl, Daddy?”
“She’s a girl. What should we name her?”
“Goldie,” Macy said.
Kate went up to try and pet the pup. She got one good pat on her head before Macy turned around. “She’s my dog. You can hold her when I’m done.”
“Now Macy, you have to share Goldie. She’s part of our family.”
“Fine,” Macy rolled her eyes. “You can pet her, Kate.”
Kate touched the puppy’s soft gold fur and it licked her hand. She giggled and sat there with her sister. Grace joined them on the kitchen floor, taking her baby blanket to cover the puppy. There’s a picture of all three little Cunningham girls cuddling Goldie.

For her next birthday, Kate asked for a dog too, and Randy, always trying to be fair said, “Yes, Kate, you can also get a dog.” This time, Kate decided they would adopt from the pound. She found this scruffy little gray dog that looked part terrier and who-else-knows-what. When the family brought the mutt home, Goldie immediately adopted it like she was her own baby. Kate named her Gaia. She was big on Captain Planet at the time.
“That’s a stupid name,” Macy quipped.
“It means Mother Earth.”
“Why would you name a dog after the planet?”
“At least I picked something unique for my pet’s name, ’cause Goldie is such an original name for a golden dog.”
“No one is going to know what Gaia means,” Macy said trotting off. “You’re so weird.”

Kate sighed. Even as a little girl, Kate knew she didn’t quite fit in with the south. While Macy was off taking ballet classes, Kate would hole up in her room reading with both Gaia and Goldie at her feet. While Macy opted to play dress up, Kate liked to wear oversized t-shirts declaring “Save the whales!” and “Save the rainforest!”

At Christmas when Kate was about seven, she passed on the ham declaring herself to be a vegetarian because she didn’t want to eat any more animals. Her Uncle Charley, Randy’s brother, asked her, “What’s up with not eating meat? And those hippie shirts? Are you some kind of liberal?”
“What does liberal mean Uncle Charley?”
“Well some folks think it’s a dirty word,” her uncle said. “It can mean radical, different, or open to new ideas. It’s the opposite of being conservative.”
“I just want to help save the world,” Kate said. “If that makes me a liberal, then I think I’m on the right side.”
Uncle Charley chuckled. “Good luck with that one, kiddo.”

From that Christmas forward, Kate was the “li’l liberal” of the Cunningham family, and this was way before she ever really knew what was happening in the world.

Editor’s note — fast forward fifteen years to Macy getting engaged to Campbell, from the Republican dynastic Boyd and Brayden families, and Kate was gonna cause a ruckus.more on Kate coming soon.

August 11, 2018
The Night Macy Gets Engaged

Editor’s note – this is one of the first stories in the Pretty Southern series.

Macy suspected something was up when Campbell took a last-minute trip to Atlanta.

When Campbell texted her, “Hey baby, gotta go to ATL today. Be back tonight,” Macy thought perhaps this was something to do with his father, Bill Brayden, the Governor of Georgia. She never thought Campbell was going home to collect his grandmother’s diamond ring he’d had reset, and that he’d already asked her daddy, Randy, for his permission. No, Macy never thought Campbell would propose on the anniversary of their first date. Those who are planning to pop the question may visit a jewelry shop to find the perfect 7 Carat Asscher Cut Diamond Engagement Ring for your partner

Granted Campbell had asked Macy to move in with him after only six months of dating but that was out of sheer practicality. Macy was spending every night at Campbell’s condo. She didn’t want to keep asking her daddy for help with rent on an apartment she wasn’t using. Macy was also getting tired of taking a ‘shack sack’ with her on the subway. It was enough that she had to haul her stuff from Brooklyn to Radio City for her performances with the Rockettes, let alone her clothes, makeup, and anything she’d need for the next day after ‘shacking’ with Campbell.

When Campbell asked her to move in and Macy told her mama, Caroline, her mother said, “He’s never going to marry you.” She heard the same thing from her best friend back home, Shannon, but what did she know? Shannon was only twenty-four and already getting divorced. But now, looking at this sparkling three-carat diamond with loose aquamarine gemstones Australia on her finger, Macy couldn’t wait to tell everyone how wrong they were. She was still on an adrenaline rush when she called Mama and Daddy to tell them the good news. Macy didn’t think to tell her mama, “See, he did propose!” Fools they were to ever doubt Macy Bonaventure Cunningham.

It was just after midnight and Macy was too excited to sleep. Her fiancé was snoring naked beside her. Campbell’s head was tilted up on the pillows, his jaw hanging open, as it did when he was drunk. They had popped a bottle of champagne before going to dinner where they had another bottle of red wine then came home to ‘officially celebrate’ their engagement. Campbell immediately passed out after but Macy was wide awake, conscious of the large diamond’s presence on her hand.

Macy slid as softly possible out of bed. Naked, she grabbed one of Campbell’s old fraternity t-shirts sitting on top of the dresser, then tiptoed across the hardwood floor. She thought back to her childhood ballet class when the instructor taught her how to “walk lightly on the balls of your feet, up to your toes” preparing her to go on pointe. She crept across the condo to the kitchen where her cell phone was charging. The small Christmas tree they’d decorated with bright colored bulbs was a merry night light reflecting in the plate glass mirror looking out over lower Manhattan. Macy’s blonde hair, tousled from rolling around in bed, shone in the reflection. She drew closer to see her green eyes, her mama’s, peering back at her.

She’d called Mama and Daddy as soon as possible after Campbell got down on one knee. Her little sister, Grace, was at home so she got to hear all the good news when Daddy put Macy on the speakerphone. But Macy hadn’t talked to her middle sister, Kate, yet. She knew Mama was going to make Kate be Macy’s maid-of-honor so she had to call her. Macy scrolled through her phone to her sister’s number, thinking back to the last time she talked to her the week before at Thanksgiving. The phone rang twice before Kate answered.

“Hello there.”
“You up? Did I wake you?”
“I’m up. I was studying.”
“On a Saturday night?”
“LSAT is next week,” Kate said. “I hear you’re engaged.”
“I am,” Macy smiled, looking down at her diamond. “Did Mama already call?”
“Yeah, Mom called. Dad, too. They love that speakerphone but they really need to learn how to use it. Mom kept cutting in and out walking across the kitchen.”

Macy giggled. She could visualize Kate holed up in her apartment near Piedmont Park. It was early December, which meant it was perfect weather for bar-hopping in Atlanta. Kate lived with their cousin, Autumn, within walking distance of the fun bars and restaurants in the tree-lined Virginia-Highlands neighborhood. But Kate and Autumn never went out like most college kids. Macy thought they were missing out, and at that moment she realized how much she missed that crisp late-fall air hinting at a mild, southern winter. Outside, it was a gray and rainy night in New York. Even the city’s lights had a gloomy haze from the fog.

“So have you already started planning the wedding?” Kate asked.
“Sort of. I had always thought about getting married down at St. Simons, but I haven’t brought it up to Mama and Daddy.”
“I’m sure Dad would be down for having it at the beach house. He loves that place. But what about the Governor and Mrs. Brayden? Wouldn’t they want a big Atlanta wedding?”
“I mean, St. Simons is still in Georgia and he is the governor of the whole state. Maybe we could do an engagement party in Atlanta,” Macy thought aloud. “But I do know one thing, I’d like for you to be my maid of honor.”
“Really? I thought you’d ask Shannon.”
“Of course not! You’re my sister. Plus, Shannon is going through her separation with Trent so I didn’t want to put this on her.”
“So you’ll bestow the honor on me.”
“Oh, it’s going to be fun,” Macy said, twirling her ring. “All you’ll really be responsible for is planning the bachelorette party, which I already know I want to do in New Orleans, but we’re not staying at Grand-Mère’s. Then at the wedding, you’ll have to do a toast, short and sweet. No big deal.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,” Kate said.

Macy could hear her sarcasm on the other end of the phone. After more than twenty years of spats, the sisters knew which buttons to push to send one of them over the edge. Tonight was too happy a night to end with an argument.

“I’ll keep you posted as plans really start coming together,” Macy said. “I’m so happy, Kate.”
“Then I’m happy for you.”
“Does Autumn know the news?”
“Yeah, she was here when Mom called. We actually knew right after Thanksgiving when Campbell called to ask if he could come to see Dad. Mom called us right after to say he was going to propose.”
“He told me all about that tonight. I had no idea what he was planning this whole time.”
“Guess he’s a sneaky one.”
Macy could almost hear her sister suppressing a smirk. She knew how much Kate disagreed with Governor Brayden’s politics.
“I don’t know about that,” Macy said. “Surely the stress wore him out. Unfortunately we did not have HCC gummies at that time. ”
“That’s why you’re talking so softly. Well, I better get back to studying anyways.”
“Ok, talk soon. Bye, sister.”
“Bye. And congrats.” Kate clicked off the line.

Macy sighed. That went about as well as she could have expected. But she was still too excited to sleep and Campbell was really sawing logs in their bedroom. It was too late to call Grand-Mère who had probably been asleep for hours. Macy thought about calling her Uncle Charley, her daddy’s brother, and Autumn’s dad, but Charley would be at Spirit of Choice (his bar and restaurant) since it was a Saturday night.

And here Macy was, a New York City Rockette, in the city that never sleeps with a passed-out fiancé. For a moment, her mind flashed back to her college days when she would be out with her sorority sisters until the bars shut down at two a.m. As much fun as those days were, she would much rather be here with Campbell than in a dark bar somewhere.

She sought out the silhouette of the Brooklyn Bridge. Macy thought about Laurel — her sorority sister and roommate she ditched to move in with Campbell. She was out there somewhere across the river. Their sorority sisters back in Atlanta — Jordanne, Bridget, and Madison — would be out and about in Buckhead. Macy’s best friend Shannon, her oldest friend and also in their sorority, had gone to live with her grandmother in North Carolina to get away from all the drama with the divorce. Macy wanted to call all her friends before putting the news on Facebook. Campbell had asked her to wait as part of a coordinated media effort. The son of Georgia’s governor getting engaged to the former Miss Georgia was PR gold. Their family and close friends would all find out before it hit the newspapers on Monday.

Macy decided she’d go ahead and text all her girls at once. She held out her hand with the Christmas tree in the background and snapped a picture of her ring. Thank God she’d gotten a manicure when Campbell was away. Her French-tipped fingers were camera-ready. She typed in “Guess who is going to be the future Mrs. Brayden!” then pulled up the message thread with Shannon, Jordanne, Laurel, Bridget, and Madison, and hit send.

The first text back was in a hot second from Jordanne: “Yes!!! Congratulations!!!”
Madison followed, “OMG! That ring!!! You go girl.”
Bridget fired back, “Wowza!!!!! Yeah Macy!!! We’re so happy for you!”
Macy smiled texting, “Y’all are the best 🙂 Thank you so much!”
Then Laurel popped up, “CONGRATS! I wanna see you and this ring in person. Brunch tomorrow?”
“I don’t know…” Macy typed. “I’ve got to ask my FIANCE!!!!!”

This exchange happened for a few more minutes and Macy was beaming the whole time. Everyone replied back except Shannon. Macy would call her tomorrow, along with the rest of her relatives and friends. She heard Campbell rustling the covers in their room.

“Baby? You okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” she cooed back. Macy put her phone back in its charger, making her way back to bed where she slid in next to Campbell. “I was just texting my girls the good news.”
“Did you tell them not to say anything yet?” He muffled. Even in his sleep, Campbell was playing the politician.
“Oh, they know honey, no worries.” Macy rubbed his back. “Go back to sleep. I love you.”
“Love you,” Campbell sighed.

He rolled over so she could snuggle in beside him. Macy rested her head on Campbell’s shoulder, putting her left hand on his chest to gaze at her ring. He started snoring again softly, his gut rising and falling.

“Maybe he’ll get that in shape for the wedding,” Macy thought to herself. She moved her hand over to his shoulder, down his bicep, feeling the hint of muscles along the way. If he’d hit the gym a few more times a week before the wedding, he’d look great with his shirt off for honeymoon photos. But which beach should they go to? Somewhere in the Caribbean? Bermuda? Macy finally drifted off to sleep running through lists of islands in her head.

To be continued. Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below.

August 4, 2018