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Ronda Rich's blog

A name and a story

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In the South, everyone has a story. Every name is followed by a few sentences or paragraphs. No one is known by name alone.

It was perhaps the first thing I warned Tink when he moved here, “Be careful what you say about anyone at church because you never know who’s related to who.”

The proper Southerner

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It takes a lot of time to be the proper Southerner, the kind respected for thoughtfulness and kindness. In fact, it takes so much time that it’s looking like I may have to give up my job, just to act like Mama raised me and Daddy expected me to do.

Collecting stories

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Southerners tend to collect stories. And, we tend to talk to anyone who will talk to us. The latter tends to lead to the first.

“In New England, we don’t strike up conversations with strangers,” Tink pointed out. “We mind our own business.”

A father to remember

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It happens all the time. Tink will meet someone new around where we live and, invariably, that person will mention my daddy.

“You should have knowed Ralph Satterfield,” one man said during an encounter at the funeral home. “Finest man I ever did know.”

Being out-snuckered

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It is a blessing of a life to know common man philosophers. Those people, though not formally educated, who are plenty smart when it comes to sizing up life.

Rodney, my brother-in-law, is the Will Rogers of our family. “Uncle Si,” I always say, “has nothing on Rodney.”


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