The Code Of The South Does Exist!

The Code Of The South Does Exist!

A Commentary by J. D. Longstreet
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I read, just this week, that North Carolina is the 3rd fastest growing state in the country behind only California and Texas. I suppose I should be proud of that. I’m not, particularly. I question how many of the immigrants to North Carolina are LEGAL.

We have had a great influx of folks from the Northern climes in recent years. They have had, we have heard, difficulty in assimilating into out Southern Culture. That is as it should be.

We Southerners are, most assuredly, a different people with a different culture. And it is vitally important for all immigrants into the South to understand that the “Southern Hospitality” we are famous for, does have its limits.Over the years I have been asked about our “Southern Code of Honor.” I assure you it does exist! It is written upon the heart of every Southerner having trod the scared soil of the South.

What is this legendary “Southern Code” we Southerners are so proud of anyway?

Well, you can sum it up in one word. “HONOR”. We cherish honor above everything else. Without honor, all that remains has no value. The word “HONOR” is seared across the ethereal visage of our souls.

To even BEGIN to understand Southerners, you MUST understand this: Southerners believe each man and woman has a duty, a responsibility, to seek nobility in life and in purpose. No matter his, or her, station in life, or the social strata he, or she, was born into. There is nobility in fighting the good fight, on your job, on the field of battle, at anything you turn your hand to.

Southerners believe we were, indeed, created in the image of God. We have a duty to uphold that image as best we can. It is a continuous battle against the trials of life, but to shirk one’s duty, in this respect, is unforgivable. It is dishonorable.

Our Southern culture IS a culture apart. We like it that way. We have no intention of changing. To do so would be to dishonor all those who have gone before us as well as their creation of this sanctified, set apart, land. The South is to Southerners what the Holy Land is to the Jewish people.

Never question the honor of a Southerner. It is considered a challenge and your challenge will be answered.

A Southerner will go to the wall to defend honor. No matter the size of the opponent, no matter the place, or the time. Honor will be defended.

There is an inviolate line, which must never be crossed. Where does that line lie? Everywhere. For instance, you do not disparage our women. That is at the top of the list of inviolate things. Others include: our homes, our friends, our religion, our military abilities, and you surely do not speak disparagingly about our ancestors. To violate any of these will bring the wrath of the South down on your head in an instant.

You may have noticed Southerners do not back down. We refuse to accept defeat. We are accused, often, of still fighting the War Between the States. That is true. We consider this era of forced quietude only half time between The South and the North. We have never laid the war down. To quit, to surrender, is not acceptable in our code of honor. So, we fight on. Understand… we will win. It may take another hundred, or even two hundred, years, but we will prevail. We never forget, and we never quit.

It has been said that Southerners are America’s true “Warrior Class.” Look at the great warriors of America. Consider how many were Southerners.

War comes naturally to Southerners. The Scot-Irish-German blood flowing in our veins and the Southern Code of Chivalry, we learn from birth, creates the most fearsome warrior on the face of the earth.

The true Southerner is a gentleman, or lady, always. Well, right up ‘til he takes your head off. He will knock you down then offer his hand to lift you back to your feet. If you make the same mistake again, you will find yourself in need of that helping hand to get you off your back… again.

Southerners are deeply religious people. We unashamedly believe in God. We believe the Bible is His Holy Word. At the same time we know one cannot be perfect, but we believe every Southerner is born into this world with the obligation to strive for perfection. Anything less is totally unacceptable. It has been said this is the Southern interpretation of the European “Noblise Oblige.” Southerners know in the depths of their being they have an obligation to strive for nobility.

The Southern society is not a classless society. We acknowledge our society has an upper, middle, and a lower class. But we believe the obligation to nobility crosses those boundaries and emboldens even the least of us to carry the honor of his name, and his family’s heritage, without stain. Anything less is unacceptable.

There exists a divide between the Northern People, and the Southern People, in this nation. The divide is vast and unnavigable. We are two different peoples held together by law. The bayonet enforced the bondage of the Southern peoples. We have not forgotten. Nor will we. We know these bonds are only temporary. We work tirelessly for the day we will once again be ruled only by God and voice of the Southern people.

Tis honor, above all else. It is our code. It is written on our hearts.

Your Obedient Servant,

J. D. Longstreet

The Old Man

I didn't write this, I received this in an email. It may be an *Urban Legand*, maybe not. In any case, I don't care. Just enjoy it for what it is and remember those that gave ALL they had for this nation.

The Old Man...

As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open.

The old man was looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my car and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty five feet away.

I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too, and took a few steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and say something.

The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I heard him yell at the old gentleman saying, 'You shouldn't even be allowed to drive a car at your age.' And then with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.

I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as he went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay. I had seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood straight and as I got near him I said, 'Looks like you're having a problem.'

He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me. Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the old man that I would be right back. I drove to the station and went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offered to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him.

The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us, he straightened up and thanked me for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine) I spoke with the old gentleman.

When I shook hands with him earlier, he had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me that he had been a Marine too.

I nodded and asked the usual question, 'What outfit did you serve with?'

He had mentioned that he served with the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal . He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was over. As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower the hood. They came over to us as the old man reached for his wallet, but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA card.

He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket..

We all shook hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife. I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me..

One of them pulled out a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me then, that they were Marine Corps Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the old man had given to me. I said I would and drove off.

For some reason I had gone about two blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long time. The name of the old gentleman was on the card in golden leaf and under his name.. 'Congressional Medal of Honor Society.'

I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over. I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because one of us needed help. He was an old man all right, but it felt good to have stood next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence. Remember, OLD men like him gave you FREEDOM for America .

Thanks to those who served and to those who supported them.

America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall.

If you don't stand behind our troops, PLEASE feel free to stand in front of them!

Remember, Freedom isn't "Free" -- thousands have paid the price so you can enjoy what you have today.