Currently in Madison.
There is something like a gentle culture shock, to go from Little
Rock to Madison. To put what one sees from Little Rock to Madison
into context requires asking questions and examining one’s
observations.
To start, what are
the borders of the Southern United States? I don’t mean Texas and
Arkansas. I mean instead the ineffable essence that is the South. Its
attitude and its history. Its horrible problems, and its charm. Where
does it begin and end?
In Texas, I have a
rough idea of its boundaries. Houston is a border town between the
South and the Spanish-speaking Southwest. On Interstate 10, the
Southwest peters out somewhere around Anahuac. Beaumont
is definitely the South. It has the racial dichotomy and all that
comes with it. Meanwhile, on I-10 again, the South peters out near Columbus. San Antonio is definitely Southwestern.
It has the Spanish history and linguistic pre-dominance.
From Houston, headed
north on I-45, the Southwest ends somewhere around Huntsville. From there, it’s the South all the way up to Dallas. Fort
Worth is the West.
On US Highway 59
from Houston, the Southwest ends somewhere around Splendora. From there, it’s the South all the way to
Little Rock and Memphis and then...that’s where I lose certainty.
North of the
Arkansas side of Memphis, once you’re out of the Ozarks, is as flat
as you can imagine the Great Plains to be. But, this is the
Mississippi Delta region. Definitely the South. But, what about
southeastern Missouri? Headed north on I-55, references to crawfish
fade almost immediately. References to Southern Cooking fade
gradually.
About halfway
between the Arkansas border and St. Louis, German place- and
business-names become more common. Highways in Arkansas are dedicated
to fallen policemen and soldiers with decidedly Anglo surnames. About
halfway to St. Louis, the surnames become Germanic.
Perhaps, it is the
halfway-point between St. Louis and the Arkansas border, where the
South fades, and the...Midwest?...Breadbasket?...region begins. Where
beer-brewing has a history and a gusto that just isn’t so in the
South.
St. Louis itself
looks like it has a history of industry that no place in Texas has.
Smoke stacks are made of concrete or bricks, unlike the shiny
metallic ones in Houston or Pasadena, TX. By the way, the St. Louis
Arch, as viewed from the freeway, is worth it. It looks just like it
does in the pictures.
Going back to the
regionalism topic, what about the Rust Belt? It seems like something
that you would recognize immediately upon seeing it. Well, here’s
the thing. Individual cities and towns can be Industrial or Rust
Belt-y, but smaller towns and farmland usually aren’t. If the Rust
Belt has a theme, it is: Industrial Past, and Decline Ever Since. For
the Breadbasket: Farming Past, and the Factories Never Arrived. The Rust
Belt has experienced a slow-motion apocalyptic decline in population.
The Breadbasket has experienced an even slower-motion, far steadier
decline in population. Notwithstanding the university towns in both
regions.
That said, I put St.
Louis in the Rust Belt. It has seen better days. For that matter,
everything from St. Louis to Rockford, Illinois, is Rust Belt. An
awful, but truthful way to know if a place is in the Rust Belt is
this: did the town or city experience white flight on an almost grand
scale? A more subtle question might be: did the town or city
experience its heyday in the 1920s?
Madison, based on my
limited reading, does not have the history of Rust Belt cities like
its neighbor Milwaukee. It never experienced a decline in population,
least of all since the 1960s. It never industrialized in the way that
Milwaukee or Chicago did.
If Madison had its
heyday, it never ended.
No comments:
Post a Comment