Then I noticed something magical. Every evening people would come home from work and neighbors would all migrate to the front porch of someone on the street and it seemed to be on a rotating basis. Some had drinks in their hands, some had food to bring, and kids were always on point. Neighbors would chat, laugh, and dare I say even get a bit hammered. After an hour or two, the same people would migrate back to their home and call it a night. No television, kids got to play and let off steam, people got caught up on each other.
The south is far different. Not in the way the media passes it off though.
We got those house bars here to. Here is a example of the racism I saw myself. Ken a black dude moved here from NY with not much more than the clothes on his and his wifes back, got a job in a hotel here. When people noticed he was walking to work they found out what kind of trouble he was having.
Everyone got together one night and started giving him stuff furniture clothes one guy even gave him an old car told him he could pay him a little when he got in better shape. Well Ken started to get an angry look on his face and started crying, ran out of the room. I was elected to follow him and find out what was wrong.
After talking a bit Ken told me he had been scared to death about moving down here and that the look on his face was not anger it was shock that this was the first time in his life that he did not feel like a GD N_____.