My Southern Soul
Recently, I was listening to some old bluegrass songs when I came across the Country Gentlemen and their song “Legend of the Rebel Soldier.” It’s about a rebel soldier confined to a yankee cell during the War of northern Aggression.
Here is the back story: the rebel soldier isn’t afraid of dying. He just hated the thought of dying in a yankee prison. Can I get an amen, brother? He asks his preacher/parson “When I die, will my soul pass through the Southland?”
Since I travel a lot, I got to thinking about that question, just in case the Good Lord calls me home when I’m not on God’s Country soil, better known as the Southland.
So, to my Southern clergy, here are my questions:
When I die, will I get to hear the CCHS band play the fight song one more time? Or smell chicken stew being cooked over a hickory fire? Will I get to hear Sweet Home Alabama, Rammer Jammer and Dixieland Delight just one more time in Bryant Denny? Or light up just one more Cohiba on the third Saturday in October after beating the Vols like a rented mule? Will my soul pass through the Southland?
Will I get to taste just one more Appalachian oyster, deep fried catfish, peach cobbler and Dreamland rib? Or when I pass through the Southland, will I get to sample Southern cornbread with no sugar, a McKenzie tomato, boiled peanuts from Andalusia and a Whitt’s BBQ sandwich with mayonnaise? In other words, Heaven can wait.
Will my soul pass by Rip Swanner Field in Tanner, Bryant Denny in Tuscaloosa and Bradford-Newman Field in Leighton? Will I get to hear My Old Kentucky Home, just one more time while I hug my wife and hold a mint julep and cigar right before the greatest 2 minutes in sports?
Will my soul pass through Sawgrass Plantation in Sumter County to visit with my “good ole boys” while listening and laughing about the same stories for the 1,549th time? Or experience the high lonesome sound of bluegrass around a campfire, watching the sun rise above the trees? Or will I get to hear the crack of a Louisville Slugger wooden bat just like God intended for the game to be played?
Will my Southern soul get to see the eagle flight at Jordan Hare, and George Strait, Willie Nelson, and Rhonda Vincent in concert? Will my soul pass through Gardiner’s Farm on Underwood Mountain just one more time to hear the auctioneer declaring that this was the last St. Jude Trail Ride since childhood cancer had been eliminated? To borrow the title of an old gospel tune, if that happens: “It Is Well with My Soul.”
Will my Southbound soul see a return to faith, family and friends in that order? Or witness the elimination of judgement based on skin color, socioeconomic background and bank account? Will I get to rest in Eternity knowing I helped leave my kids and grandkids, a better America?
As I pass through the Southland, on my way Home, will I get a chance to thank one last time, the veterans who made our freedom possible because of their sacrifices? Will my soul see the red clay of Colbert County, the sugar white sand of Destin, the great lakes of Alabama and the fields of cotton, soybeans, wheat and corn which inspired songs that actually infiltrated our Southern souls?
Lynyrd Skynyrd sang “Southern Man” and let Neil Young know in “Sweet Home Alabama” that a Southern man didn’t need him around anyhow. Did Van Zant know something we didn’t?
There are hundreds of church songs referencing “soul” in their titles. For those who wonder about my Southern soul, just refer to “Where the Soul of Man Never Dies.”
Was the song about the soul passing through the Southland?
I’m not sure, but to my northern friends (both of them), you can never be too careful.