|I can tell by your accent|
|Wednesday, September 11, 2013 2:18 PM|
By Jim Langham
When I was a child, our family visited my Aunt Norma (who once ran The Green Pantry Restaurant in Antwerp) and my Uncle Art at their home in Jacksonville, Fla. As we started back to the north, my parents decided to purchase pecans at a road side stand in Georgia.
At the time, I-75 was a thing of the future and markets lined the old U.S. 27 south of Macon. When my mother approached the cashier to pay for her purchase, the lady behind the cash register said, “You’re from Indiana, aren’t you?” It must be understood that at the time, we had traveled very little out of northeast Indiana.
My mother acknowledged that she was and asked the lady how she knew. The friendly cashier responded, “I could tell by your accent.”
My mother didn’t say anything until she climbed into the car. Then, with a bit of huffiness in her voice, she said to my dad, “Well, of all the nerve! How could she say that? She was the one with the accent, not me!”