Is Southern Hospitality a Myth?

I hadn’t seen my friend Scott for several months. As we were catching up, I asked if he and his family had been on any interesting trips lately. He mentioned they had rented a beach house outside Charleston last summer; it was their first time there. A native New Yorker now living in San Francisco, Scott said he had barely spent any time before “down South.”

Then he asked, “Do you believe there’s such a thing as Southern hospitality?

Being Southern, I thought it hospitable to encourage him to continue before offering my opinion. “Do you?” I asked.

“I think it’s a myth,” Scott answered. He explained that the owner of their rented beach house had misrepresented its amenities and wouldn’t fix a major problem Scott had called to complain about. He said the wait staff in several restaurants they’d been to in Charleston had been indifferent and unaccommodating.

“So I don’t buy this Southern hospitality thing at all,” Scott concluded.

Feeling defensive, I explained that Charleston, being a hugely popular tourist destination, has a lot of people living there now from outside the South. (A poor excuse, admittedly.) Also, Scott and his family had gone to a top tourist destination toward the end of the tourist season. By that point, no doubt every restaurant server’s last good nerve had been plucked more times than a banjo string at a bluegrass convention.

And yet, Scott’s question left me wondering: Are Southerners truly more hospitable than people in other areas?

Yes Ma'am

At a minimum, I believe most Southerners are polite. They still say “yes sir” and “yes ma’am” and “thank you” and “you’re welcome.” They will hold the door open for you, regardless of your sex. And Southerners are generally friendly. When you’re out for a walk in a residential neighborhood, a Southern stranger will say hello to you, even wave from across the street.

True hospitality, to me, is something much more than politeness and friendliness. It’s a willingness to take action out of compassionate regard for the needs of others, even when they’re strangers and it’s of no real benefit to you. I’ve certainly seen this in the South—and many other places as well.

No Worries, Mate

On a 1996 visit to Melbourne, Australia, Nick and I became completely lost, so I ventured into a corner market to ask for directions. After waiting my turn in line, I asked the young woman behind the counter how to get back to our hotel. She gave me convoluted directions I had trouble grasping.

I was aware there were three people in line behind me. Not wanting to keep them waiting, I thanked the friendly clerk and started to leave. To my astonishment, she insisted on walking outside with me so she could point out the way. She left the cash register unattended, not to mention those three people waiting in line. Once she had set me straight (so to speak), I stuck my head into the store. The three people in line smiled at me, and I thanked them for their patience. “No worries, mate,” one of them responded, and they all wished us luck.

In London two years ago, I was leaving the theater with a group of people. We became confused as to how to take the tube back to our hotel. A young woman overheard us, said she was going in that direction, and invited us to follow her. She sat with us on the train and stayed past her own stop, to ensure we departed at the correct station.

Losing it in Times Square

And then there was my first trip to New York, way back in 1979. Toward the end of my visit, I discovered, to my horror, that I had lost my wallet—in Times Square. Fortunately I was with a group of college friends and I rode back to North Carolina with them. I figured my wallet, along with the money in it, was lost forever. (I didn’t have a credit card at that point.)

A day after my return, I received a collect phone call from someone in the New York City area. The caller had found my wallet. He offered to mail it to me but wanted permission to deduct the shipping cost from the bills in my wallet. A few days later, my wallet arrived intact, with all my money minus the postage costs.

And so, hospitality exists everywhere—even in Times Square. It’s by no means indigenous to the South. On the other hand, jerks are everywhere, too. You get into trouble trying to generalize about any group of people, whether it's where they live or how they live.

Even so, I feel the need to defend the notion of Southern hospitality and to do my meager part to ensure its survival.

In San Francisco, when I see tourists confused as to which way to go, I will sometimes stop and offer directions. When I notice a tourist taking a picture of his friends, I’ll often ask if they’d like me to take the picture. Partly, my motivation is for them to go home and say “Those San Franciscans are very friendly.” But at the end of each encounter, I always say in my best drawl, “Y’all have a nice day."

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What do you think? Do you believe Southerners are more hospitable than other people? What's been your experience with a stranger being truly hospitable to you in your travels?