A Points South essay from the South Carolina Music Issue. Myrtle Beach has always capitalized on tourists’ desire to put a soundtrack to their vacations. Long before the days of the megachurch-style country music theaters, like the Carolina Opry and… by Sarah Bryan | Nov, 2019

A Points South essay from the South Carolina Music Issue. Men and women—sometimes pairing off, sometimes dancing alone—cluster in the center of the club, lightly prancing just off their heels. In unison, the dancers then form a circle, shifting to… by Robert Greene II | Nov, 2019

A feature essay from the South Carolina Music Issue.  The thing that they do, I hesitate to say that you have to be there, but—there is an intimacy and devilment to their live performance, a lift and crash, that has… by David Ramsey | Nov, 2019

Notes on the songs from our 21st Southern Music Issue Sampler featuring South Carolina. It is fitting that this Southern Music Issue (the Oxford American’s twenty-first) devoted to South Carolina should come in 2019, as the nation moves to better… by Oxford American | Nov, 2019

A feature essay from the South Carolina Music Issue.  Outside of his studies, Ron joined, and eventually presided over, the A&T karate club, and still made time to stay sharp on his saxophone. “People talk about born geniuses, but I… by Jon Kirby | Nov, 2019

Track 3 – “Down to the Graveyard” by Moon Pie  In clubs and bars they played ninety-minute shows, at the least, filled with three- to four-minute narratives about living in a town and wanting to get out, being away from… by George Singleton | Nov, 2019

Track 23 – “Resurrection” (Live) by Benny Starr feat. the FOUR20s   “Resurrection,” the first song on A Water Album, facilitates a kind of reconciliation between the Fitzgerald Wiggins of my youth and the man I aim to be. Seeing others… by Benny Starr | Nov, 2019

We would like to hear from you.  The magazine will begin publishing letters to the editor in the fall issue and going forward. If you would like to respond to a story published in the magazine, we welcome your letter. by Oxford American | Jun, 2019

A Points South essay from the Summer 2019 issue

In 2007, the fossil remains of a severely disabled prehistoric man were uncovered in what is now Vietnam. The skeleton revealed the fused vertebrae and weak bones characteristic of a congenital disease called Klippel-Feil syndrome. The man was a quadriplegic, unable to feed himself or keep himself clean, and yet he survived to adulthood—during the Stone Age, mind you—because others in his community took care of him.

A veritable who’s-who of icons, legends, today’s hot finds, and tomorrow’s trendsetters Wednesday, October 9 through Saturday, October 12. Four days of bliss on the banks of the Mississippi in historic Helena, Arkansas, will see more than 100 performers ranging from legacy icons to tomorrow’s stars on six stages, taking fans from around the world on a journey that brings the legacy of America’s music to life.

Learn more at KingBiscuitFestival.com.

In anticipation of their annual gathering next month, we’ve partnered with SlowExposures, a “juried exhibition celebrating photography of the rural American South,” to curate this special edition of Eyes on the South.

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By. 

I have seen how engaged service of a certain kind can result in being treated to a top tier dining production, and gotdamn, that is a show.

A Southern Journey from the Summer 2019 issue. 

He began the letter by asking Larry to cremate him and scatter his ashes next to his second wife’s ashes at Johnson Beach in Perdido Key, Florida, “approximately 75 yards from end of road, then straight out to the beach . . . where lovey’s ashes were scattered.” Then, Tom addressed the business of his art. “Now Larry,” the letter read. “I know you don’t know shit about art but DO NOT destroy my work.”

A Points South essay from the Summer 2019 issue

Much of what they’d tell me next was legend—tall tales, rumors, exaggerations. Perry Martin adopted an orphan girl he found on the riverside, raised her up as his own, paid her way through college. He killed nine people, or eleven, or a dozen. One of his alleged victims was his own stepson: the younger man had rocked a boat they shared too violently, which angered Martin. Apparently, despite his life along the river, this outlaw did not know how to swim.

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.

My family has always believed that American cooking is basically about following scientific steps in order to recreate a taste, but that Chinese cooking is about creating flavor using only what we have on hand and in our imaginations. I was putting that theory to the test.

In an ongoing series of startling black and white images, Andrew O’Brien captures landscapes along Stringer’s Ridge, a nature preserve near Chattanooga, Tennessee, and annotates them by overlaying pixelated dots, slashes, and abstract shapes to create otherworldly scenes.

A Southern Journey from the Summer 2019 issue. 

Lenny did all he could to hang around it over the next couple of years, cleaning lines, fetching balls, brushing the clay to maintain a smooth surface. Eventually, after cocktail hour ended and the guests went home, Gibson set him in front of a backboard and showed him how to rotate his back foot and drive the ball. She even imparted a few life lessons, foremost among them, he remembers now: “Every time you come to this gate, you better be ready to go.” 

A Southern Journey from the Summer 2019 issue. 

I am journeying north. I want to see the infinite yellow flat of the Texas panhandle. Stables and barns. The dipping heads of pumpjacks. Enough to situate a fictional ranch along the Caprock Escarpment, a location I need to depict for a novel-in-progress. My mother’s family comes from the region, but I’ve never been there. My plan is to drive the seven hours north from Austin to Palo Duro Canyon, where I’ll camp for the night. Often, a single detail will bring a scene into clarity, and I’m off to find it.

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By. 

Over the last three years, Alex and I have spent a total of eight summer nights in the Carlton Marion Inn. It’s a tidy motel with a gravel parking lot and a pool overlooking Crooked Creek Valley. This year, though, there’d be no fun to be had in the pool. Not even any fishing. We didn’t know that yet, but maybe we could feel it. Maybe we were afraid of what was coming, what was already there and would not stop.

In his series Palimpsests, film photographer Sean Crutchfield documents the places “where the past and present collide” in small-town Alabama, Georgia, and Florida.