Mainstream country music is dominated by bros singing about girls in cutoffs and drinking tequila. But some female country artists are ready to exchange fire.
Tobacco farmers, churchgoers, and signs of rapid growth crop up like kudzu along North Carolina’s Highway 15-501, aka Tobacco Road.
Evidence of diversity emerging in Northeast Tennessee, historically one of the United States’ most conservative, homogeneous regions.
Passing the summer days in North Carolina’s low country often meant sitting on the porch with Grandpa and his radio. Today, it doesn’t take much to go back there.
Lincoln’s speech at Gettysburg was short: only three minutes long, following a moving, two-hour performance by famed orator Edward Everett. It also was nearly meaningless.
A special Fourth of July edition of our series where an editor randomly calls people in small towns around America to see what’s happening.
For residents of Patsy Cline’s hometown of Winchester, Va., the struggle over how to remember the famous country singer begins with deciding what sort of a legacy she left—and whether they want it.
Our man in Boston sits down for a frank accounting with Tony Horwitz, author of beloved works like Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches From the Unfinished Civil War. Here they chat about his new book on John Brown—still a divisive figure in America, particularly in these days of terrorism—and the hazards of politicians reading too much.
Our man in Boston talks with writer Ron Rash about his latest book, America’s great regional voices, the high percentage of readers in New Zealand and Australia, and the misery that accompanies putting a novel together, where it’s rather more fun to stick pencils in your eyes.
Continuing our series of randomly calling people around the U.S. to find out what’s going on in their towns, this time we focus on the Olympics—how do folks who come from the same communities as America’s Olympians feel about their star athletes?
After a rape, the world is remade. A story of violence, true love, cars, defeat, madness, the road from New York to Lexington, and the religion that is college basketball. Victory has many faces—some of them just happen to be painted.
Selected as a notable work for The Best American Essays 2013, a writer takes a two-week journey across the United States—specifically visiting towns named Paris, with a clipboard and a hundred questionnaires—to uncover what Americans really think about the French today.