As we drove through Gueydan, I noticed that everyone we passed waved. Not because they knew who we were but just because that’s what they do.
That is what they have always done.
Young kids playing on a worn down basketball court, old men sitting on porches, a man pumping gas into the same truck he’s probably had for over thirty years. Isn’t that something?
It takes leaving the South to realize the beauty of it all.