Eastern North Carolina Sayings: From Tater Patch Kin to Madder Than A Wet Settin' Hen

By Philip L. Beaman

Down-home sayings, turns of phrase and expressions that have stood the test of time and tell the story of Eastern North Carolina word by word. Growing up on a farm in the heart of eastern North Carolina's tobacco country, author Phil Beaman has been surrounded by country folk and their colorful language his entire life. Though these communities continue to change, the bond of their phrases, expressions, colloquialisms and just plain talk has remained within the hearts and minds of their people. Beaman chronicles this language in a humorous and fascinating collection of eastern North Carolina's most down-home sayings. Everything from the weather to drunken sayings to gobbledygook is presented straight from the horse's mouth. You may not know how to pronounce some of the words, but you will surely enjoy a trip back to the halcyon days of livin' off the land and chewin' the fat..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781625846419

Philip L. Beaman

Philip Beaman is a retired educator born and raised into a family of nine on a tobacco farm in rural Eastern North Carolina. He has published a host of articles in publications and has been interested in North Carolina language his whole life. Beaman holds four college degrees that have aided him in over 35 years in education. He still lives in rural North Carolina amongst the people of that beautiful and simple region.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

Eastern North Carolina Sayings focuses primarily on the language of the people of rural eastern North Carolina. It is about the people as reflected in their communications with one another.

We lived in an environment of informality, where everybody—the most educated and the least educated—had a common language that transcended barriers associated with financial standing, race, learning and religion. We understood and communicated in ways that united us into a single culture, one that was peculiar to our region of the state. We worked together and played together, but blacks and whites went their separate ways to be educated and to worship. Despite this distinction, we enjoyed mutual respect—as people, if not as a race.

Down-home sayings, words, phrases and expressions have survived the sands of time, and although communities have changed, the remnants of this common language of the 1930s, ’40s, ’50s and ’60s—and much of the culture in which it originated—still exist, steadfastly held by those who stayed and by the generations that followed. Those who came from the outside into these communities absorbed this and other aspects of the culture. Yes, the population has changed over the years, and so has the culture, but much is still the same.

Where it all started.

Possum Trot School, a forerunner of today’s schools, near Appie in Greene County.

Our church.

This book is not a narrative of the history of the region but rather a compilation of communications with definitions, explanations, examples, comments and context to aid the reader in understanding their relevance to times and places and to the culture of the people.

All that is left of Walstonburg School.

The geographic area on which the content of this book is based is rural eastern North Carolina—specifically the areas around Walstonburg in Greene County, home of the author, and the counties of Wilson, Pitt, Wayne, Nash, Edgecombe and Lenoir. This was the heart of tobacco country, and the people living in this region of the state were all pretty much alike—just plain folks. The migration of people, most of whom were tenant farmers and day laborers who went from farm to farm, largely accounted for a sort of regional cross-pollination of the language that was peculiar to this rural area of the state.

Farming was a way of life for the vast majority of the population. Even those who were not directly involved in tilling the land were affected by what went on in the rural communities. Their livelihoods, too, depended on the successes and failures of the farmers.

Long gone—pot-bellied stove and all.

All of us were pretty much in the same boat. We didn’t have a lot of money and spent most of our time in the fields, gathered around the radio or hanging around the country store. There was not much else to do. That’s where we got our informal education. Few were well educated, and conversations reflected much of the language that had been handed down through the generations—expressions peculiar to individual families and situations. There were some differences in the language throughout the region, particularly between the races, but because we lived and worked together, communication was not a problem regardless of who you were or where you were—in the field, at the store, at the tobacco market, at church or in the schoolyard. There was one exception: blacks and whites had separate schools, and, I would later learn, they were not equal. The degree of homogeneity in this rural area of the state accounts for some of the words, phrases, sayings and expressions that came out of an era and, to a great extent, exist today. I can still return to my home community and pick up where I left off, as if I’d never left.

The new water tank put Walsonburg on the map in the 1940s. It was called The Lollypop.

The country store, left behind by supermarkets and box stores in town.

This time and place is still referred to by some as the good ol’ days. Others argue that we have long since progressed to more affluent times and lifestyles that are far superior to the hard times we endured. But they forget, or do not know, that the culture out of which my generation came was free of many of the problems that plague us today. And even though we all enjoy the progress of successive generations, and have outgrown many of the hardships that hardened us and prepared us for future careers and places in life’s stations, there’s something enduring about the values of that time in our lives that stuck with us and made us better people.

Tobacco paid the bills.

A bumper crop on the Beaman Farm.

A packhouse on the Bryant Gay Farm. Courtesy of John Gay.

Yes, for me, they were the good ol’ days.

PHILIP L. BEAMAN, EDD

Chapter 1

DOWN-HOME SAYINGS, WORDS AND EXPRESSIONS

We all seem to have sayings and expressions that we grew up with or acquired along the way, and regardless of where we are or how well educated we are, we find ourselves using them in our everyday communications. In some stations in life, we have to be careful what we say, lest we be labeled as being from you know where.

Many sayings and expressions are unique to particular regions; others get more general use. But sooner or later, you will hear a familiar one that you’ve run across before—somewhere. We recognize most of them right off the bat and know what they mean, but we sometimes have to scratch our heads to understand what some of them are trying to convey. The following are some of the more common ones that we use in eastern North Carolina, and while you may hear them elsewhere, we claim them as our own:

It runs in the family. (Whether it’s good or bad, it’s inherited.)

The apple never falls far from the tree. (We inherit the good and the bad in us.)

I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. (It happens, regardless of what you say and how you say it.)

I’m gonna git you (a threat).

You just mind your own business, ’cause ’tain’t none of your business (that’s plain enough).

It’s just up to you. (It’s your decision.)

Now, just ’tween you’n me and the gatepost… (One way of saying that it’s intended to be a closely kept secret.)

I wouldn’t turn ’round for the difference. (They’re about equal.)

It’s like buyin’ a pig in a poke. (Never can tell what you might get.)

You can say that again. (That’s reaffirming, but some people have a habit of saying it after everything you say in their presence—now that’s annoying!)

You’d better believe it. (That’s confirming.)

She kept his