Woke up at 4:30 this morning with Dixie on my mind and a heaviness in my heart. I couldn’t shake the thought of our beloved Dixieland, and the heritage that’s bein’ erased right before our eyes. I’m talkin’ about the South, y’all. The land of cotton, where the tea is sweet and the people are sweeter. There’s something powerful happening to our beloved South, and not in the way Mama’s sweet tea is powerful – this is different.
Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m all for progress and understanding. But, y’all, isn’t it just a tad sad when it feels like our rich Southern heritage is getting pushed aside? Heck, a buddy of mine won’t even play “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” anymore – says it stirs up too much trouble. Now, I love my buddy, but I gotta disagree. That song’s a heartbreaker, sure, but it’s also a story about us, about the South, and about pickin’ yourself up when times are tough. It tells a story; it recalls a time when folks were just trying to make sense of their lives amid turmoil. Yet we find so many turning a blind eye to those tales of resilience. That breaks my heart, and it ought to break yours too.
Nowadays, it seems the rebel flag has become a symbol of controversy, one that once flew ostentatiously atop General Lee, that iconic orange Dodge Charger. I vividly remember the first time I laid eyes on that beauty as a kid. It was part of childhood—good clean fun, fast cars, and some mighty fine Southern charm, complete with a horn that played “Dixie.” But now? Well, it feels like they’re scrubbing our past clean, tucking away our history like it was some embarrassing family secret.
Let’s talk mascots, too. My junior high school – once proudly the Rebels – had its name changed as if erasing that title would somehow erase the legacy of the culture that shaped us. You bet your boots that a denial of history is no way to build bridges! Yes, there’s a lot of good in changing the narrative where it’s needed, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. We gotta recognize our past—even the messy parts—as part of our growth.
Now, “An American Trilogy,” a song that’s stood the test of time, captures the spirit of the South in its entirety. It pulls on our heartstrings with its nostalgic grip, reminding us where we came from while also presenting that age-old struggle of trying to find unity amid conflict. There’s beauty in that duality, y’all. It’s about resilience and remembrance. When Elvis belted it out, folks from all walks of life felt it resonating deep in their souls—it served as a reminder that we can honor our heritage without downplaying the lessons we’ve learned.
I remember most vividly the evening I met this lady at a jam session, she said, “Are You Woke?” I said, “Well, I sure am now, after that confusin’ question.” It felt like a Forrest Gump moment, just trying to wrap my head around where the world had gone. We’d been jamming along just fine, and suddenly, it felt like every sweet note was hit with a splash of division as if there was a calculated plan to split us apart. “Divide and Conquer,” that old strategy rearing its ugly head again! But in all seriousness, this wokesomeness? It’s turnin’ us against one another. Divide and conquer, ain’t it?
So, what about Dixie, you ask? Dixie ain’t just a place on a map, it’s a state of mind, a part of who we are. Let’s keep singin’ our songs, strummin’ our guitars, and keepin’ the flames of our Dixie spirit burnin’ bright. Together, we’ll weather this storm and emerge stronger on the other side.
So, here’s my call to arms—let’s stand together with hearts full of love, respect, and a commitment to our shared story. We don’t need to erase history to create a brighter future. Instead, let’s blend our experiences and build a harmonious “Dixie” that reflects the strength of our diversity. Love prevails, folks and Southern pride runs deep! From the land of cotton to the glory hallelujah, it’s all a part of us.
Until then, keep playin’ those songs, keep tellin’ those stories. And remember, like that song says, “His truth is marchin’ on.”
Yours in unity and truth,
Dean Burnette
P.S./tree sap and sweet tea included, of course.
P.S.S. Share your favorite Southern memory in the comments below. Let’s keep our stories alive, y’all. 
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