Accents — By Tommy Purser

Reading the column below about accents brought to mind a 2-hour layover I endured in a Philadelpia airport some years back. I settled down on a barstool at a small sandwich eatery. The man behind the counter served up more than just sandwiches and cold drinks. He also served up his opinions on a wide variety of subjects and I found myself entranced by his quintessential Philadelphia accent.
I was mesmerized.
He was a bit mesmerized himself as he tried desperately to understand my southern drawl, which I don’t consider at all to be a drawl.
A few years back, when I was chairman of our Board of Tourism, we hosted a tour bus from somewhere up north. I don’t remember exactly where up north, I just know the folks on the bus didn’t speak southern drawl. Nor were they much good at deciphering things I said to them.
We fed the visitors at the old Western Steer Restaurant located on the Baxley Highway across from the old recreation department building [that was a long time ago, indeed — the recreation department building has since been torn down and replaced by our Jeff Davis County Library and the old Western Steer building is now occupied by David and Gail Miller’s Because He Lives Ministry].
Anyway, as we guided the visitors through the buffet line, I was engaged in conversation with a gentleman who was filling his plate next to his wife. As I finished up saying whatever it was I was saying to the man, his wife turned to him and said, “I didn’t understand a word he just said to you.”
Hmm. I understood what I said perfectly.