January 15, 2007
Originally published August 27, 2004
When I was young, somebody told me that the term "Georgia Cracker" came from back in the days when Atlanta was still called Terminus, and all the railroads intersected there. Farmers would drive their wagons loaded with cotton and tobacco into town to sell to the factors there.
Supposedly, the people driving the wagons used whips with special tips on the end that make a loud CRACK! when they snapped that whip over their horses or mules. People in the factor houses could hear them coming a mile away. "Here comes another cracker," they said, long before they saw the wagon.
If that story isn't true, it should be. The term "Cracker" today is a racial slur that means an ignnorant Southern red-neck. Or ANY racist bastard with a simian brow, a Confederate flag, four teeth and a chaw of Red Man in his cheek. The same people who are shocked... SHOCKED, mind you, by the notorious N-word don't have a problem calling Southerners "Crackers," and they mean it as an insult.
But that's not what the word means to me. It means good ole boys and pretty wimmen, hot days and languid evenings, sand gnats and mosquitoes, grits and eggs, friendly people and good dogs, pickup trucks and firearms. I LIKE that stuff.
So, I call myself a Cracker. I AM ONE!!!
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