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The below article is a short story of an actual event, which occurred in the late 1970's, while on active duty with the military; I was many years younger and had only one thing in mind, making it home for Christmas.
Back then there were still some rudiments remaining throughout our homeland, as to what it meant to be Confederate and Southern.  A sentiment, which will be rekindled, all in due course of time, and let there a big amen to that.
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My Journey Home

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It was nearly half a lifetime ago, I was still on active duty, in the middle of one of my many military assignments, stationed in Yankee land at New York City; it had became clear very early on that I was stranded in what seemed like a foreign country.
A leave of absence was applied for and thankfully approved!The morning of my departure finally arrived and none to soon for sanity sake!
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When just before departing a Yankee fella who was planning to head south on a new assignment, asked if he might ride approximately half the distance to my Florida home.Since he insisted on sharing the expenses, it seemed mannerly to accommodate a fellow traveler, particularly given this the time, so we both entered my then blue1976 Dodge, figuring he being Yankee, he would surely love the color.
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Anyhow we departed west on route 84 out of the oversized metropolis, known as the Big Apple!Then turned south on route 8l, which would take us straight down the beautiful Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. While I knew this particular Yankee fairly well, still, what does one say to a Yankee, when there are few if any points of mutual interest?
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We had little in common, we didn't like the same food, music, literature, and certainly our politics were as different as night and day.We disagreed on just about every aspect of life!As for myself, I never did understand how 'those people' got their heads so screwed on backwards.
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Somewhere in their history or genetic code, which ever of these or both, those people got turned around in the worse possible way.I figured it would take more wisdom then was possessed by King Solomon himself to put them back on course!Anyhow, this being the season for commemorating the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
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I thought it proper to show a little Southern Hospitality, so I decided to keep the conversation light and on the topic of Christmas.Nonetheless a few hours later we were nearing the Mason-Dixon Line, and about to cross into what I believed to be God's Country.My Yankee co-traveler couldn't help notice my spirits rising by the minute!
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So he had to ask, "What is it about the South and you Southerners that no matter what the calendar says or the changing times, you are still so different?"I thought for a moment, then answered with a question, in answer to his question!"Please tell me if you would, how far is it to the nearest battlefield from your home in upstate New York?"
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"We ain't got any battlefield anywhere near where my family lives!"
"How about cotton fields, cornbread or traditional country music and whalin' guitars?" "You got to be nuts man, he said, "You know we ain't got any of them things, New York is a northern city!" "How well do I know that my Yankee friend!"I said.
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"That's why the South is so far south, cause it ain't anything like up north!When the Almighty God walked across heaven and earth, he took it slow and careful down in Dixie.He put his entire heart into creating the land of Dixie!It%u2019s a place that is truly our home my friend, in every sense of the word!"
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"I thought you said your home is in Florida?" "It most certainly is, but you Yankee folks just don't understand; when a returning Southerner crosses the Mason-Dixon Line and reenters the Southland, he or she is already home."
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While we spent the hours heading further south, the Yankee continued to ask questions about my Southern Homeland, the kind of questions not found in any of their history books, and I done my best to answer.Finally I began to open up my heart just a wee bit, as much as one could in the company of foreigners!
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"My homeland is not just mud, grass, flowers, trees, cotton fields and buildings, it's all that clear enough, and might I say that when God created Dixie, he did His finest work.But the Southland is also a state of mind!Oh the years have exacted a heavy price upon the South, but the essence of what it means to be southern remains unique to our homeland.
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And it still shines through, even in the midst of our modern day political and social smog, waiting for that hour when it will be reborn in all her splendor."Our Southland is a storybook land of knights in shining armor, Christian Gentlemen Warriors and Ladies Fair, a land where grace and charm rides together with honor.
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A place where little boys can still carry a cane fishing pole down a dirt road, and enjoy an old time fishing hole or ride an imaginary chariot to the stars.We produce more preachers, priests, singers, teachers, writers, and poets than the rest of the world combined.Our people can tell more stories, create more laughter, as well astears, and do so with more gusto than any people who ever lived.
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We still produce more and better military officers and men of valor, than any other civilization upon earth, based on the percentage of our population.The Southlandalso produces an abundance of heroes with tactical genius and prowess, and then instills within them a sense of grace and humbleness.
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Heroes who, in spite of all the modern day political correctness and anti-Christian sentiments, still bow the knee at the feet of the King of Kings, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."My home sir, is a place where religion isn't a Sunday morning exercise, but a way of life, and we don't mind at all quoting the Holy Scripture and speaking His precious name.
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The Southland is a place where our Confederate and Anti-bellum Southern history, heritage, culture and nationhood are still center stage issues; all these generations after northern armies aggressively conquered and subjugated us.A land that if free and independent today, would stand among the top three nations on earth, in economic terms, and within five years we'd betop nationamong the military powers.
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If the thirteen Southern States were allowed to depart in peace today, it would cause the United States to be reduced to a third-world status, merely by our absence from their Union.Such is our contribution, and thus the reason we are not permitted to regain our independence and national identity!
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My home sir is a land, which flows with milk and honey, but most of all a land bathed in the blood of our forefathers, and they did so in defense of our right to be a free and independent nation and people.Were this not the case, the crowds of tourist and Yankee immigrants would be flocking north, rather than crowding our highways heading south.
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And highway 95 running from the heart of Yankee Land to Miami would never have been built!Since two thirds of the highway was constructed so as to accommodate northerners who dislike us so much, they have chosen to up root andrelocate their homesamong us.
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"My homeland has been abused, over built and over populated, then paved, and concreted over by illegal northern as well as Mexican immigrants, even so its loveliness shines through.The Southern States created the greatest civilization ever to exist in 2000 years, and buried deep within the heart of every Southerner is the collective memory of a time and a place, a paradise not really present and not completely gone.
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Our people wait that glorious day wherein our just and honorable cause, shall have been vindicated!After which, our land shall once more be restored to her splendor, charm, grace and rightful place among the nations of the earth. "My Yankee friend, this is my home and to walk across her soil, is to walk on holy ground!
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It is upon this precious Southern soil where I will live my life, make my stand, and should our Lord tarry in his coming, I will take my final rest. My Yankee guest could only gaze at me in amazement at what he had heard!"You Southerners really believe these things deep within your hearts don't you?" he questioned?"Yes Sir, this is why as you also properly stated, no matter what takes place, we really are as different as night and day!
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These things are the summation and contents of my heart, for my roots like the oak tree, grow deep in the history of the Southland and of the Confederacy.For being Southern and Confederate is not only born with me, but is also my state of mind.And this sir, is why we still honor the Almighty God, in Christ Jesus, the Holy Scripture and Prayer, and it all centers around the babe, born in a manger so long ago"
And to that, my Yankee friend could only say, Amen!
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Merry Christmas

Happy New Year

 

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In my view, the Christian religion is the most important and one of the first things in which all children, under a free government ought to be instructed...No truth is more evident to my mind than that the Christian religion must be the basis of any government intended to secure the rights and privileges of a free people. ... Noah Webster
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