Phil was a close buddy and a frequent golf partner of Bing Crosby. Each year he would also act as a media commentator at Bing‘s celebrity golf outing. Once someone remarked on how huge an ocean is the Pacific, which borders Pebble Beach. “Yep,” said Harrris, “and that’s just the top.” He was known for a broad smile and a quick wit.
A song he made famous, and one which I have not heard in a very long time is, “That’s what I like about the South.” It’s a corny, exaggerated cliché-filled thing, but it has a jazzy Dixieland kind of beat which gets your feet to tapping.
It speaks, of course, of Mammy and country ham and cornbread, sugar cane, grits. and other delights from the southern table, but for some reason leaves out iced tea. “Sweet tea,” that is, as if anything else is recognized.
Fast forward to last week when I joined my wife in Columbia, S.C. for the funeral of her mother. Sharon was extremely close to her mother and was with her when she died, so the days were filled with a combination of great memories and poignant grief.
It may also be true in other parts of the country, but in The South, when someone dies, they rarely leave in unheralded solitude. This is especially true if the deceased is female.
A silent network springs to action immediately and insures that the next few days are a blur of flowers and enough food to feed half the state. It is assumed that everyone will want something to eat at all hours and no one will want to cook.
The home of the deceased becomes community property during daylight hours. The front door is never locked.
On the dining room table at Libby’s (Sharon’s mother) house, I counted 12 different entrees including at least seven casseroles of various ingredients. Squash casseroles are my favorite, closely followed by green beans with those wonderful dried onions, but there were variations of every sort. Roast beef, Honey Baked ham, fried and baked chicken, pork chops, and meat loaf made up the protein list, and there were at least two “mystery” dishes. On a side table were five or six salads, including a six-layer one and a really good Caesar with croutons. Baskets of corn muffins and fantastic little yeast rolls were in abundance. On a separate table were the desserts - pies, cakes, puddings, cobblers, and, of course, Jell-O.
Whoever coordinated the spread was a genius. No two items were the same.
There were unending pitchers of iced tea - even some unsweetened, which mostly were ignored, and a large commercial coffee pot which never seemed to run dry. This activity began immediately upon word spreading on the day of the death, and didn’t let up until a day after the funeral. Pies, cakes, breads and soups continued to show up on a diminishing basis. It was suspected, but not confirmed, that several total strangers came to pay their respects and enjoy a bountiful meal, bless their hearts.
The day prior to the funeral is set aside as a “Viewing” day. The funeral home sets up the casket with one open end displaying the perfectly embalmed body of the deceased.
They do far too realistic a job if you ask me. You half-way expect the body to sit up and engage in conversation.
Anyway, many folks are expected to come over to the deceased’s home before or afterward for more food and small talk. The family of the deceased is not expected nor much allowed to get any meaningful rest during this period. It might lead to reflection, which should be saved for the period following the burial, which follows the funeral, preceded by the Viewing.
One thing is for certain. No one goes hungry
More on southern “cuisine” later.
No comments:
Post a Comment