Accenting the Accent

I'm from south central Pennsylvania, and I find it hard to believe, but I have an accent.

One time when I was working on a project with a colleague from North Carolina, she had occasion to call me at home and got my answering machine.  She called me at work the next day, this woman with a thick Southern drawl, and told me, to my surprise, that she knew she had called the right number because the man on the answering machine had the same accent that I had. 

Now, I told her, that was not surprising, since we grew up within ten miles of each other. What was surprising was that she thought those of us in south central Pennsylvania have an accent.  Since being relocated to the Midwest, I've discovered, that we speak what linguists call Pittsburghese and it reflects a lot of influence from the Pennsylvania Dutch to the south and east of Pittsburgh and the coal miners in the region who came from Wales, Ireland, Hungaria, etc.  It goes something like this: 

My husband calls his brother a "Jabronie" (some one who is not too bright) and his brother returns the favor calling my husband a "Jamoke" (some one who is not too bright). We ask each other when "you-'ns" (you) are going to come visit us.

When I was a kid at home, the sulphur "crick" (stream) ran down the "holla" right below our home. (Towns were named for their geographical distinctions. My grandma's family lived in nearby Mosquito "Holla" and my grandfather's family lived in Round Knob. I was married in Round Knob. My husband lived in Raven Run, named for the crick that ran by his home.  My family lived in North Point near the village of Six Mile Run, named for a six-mile crick that ran through the area. The "crick"  ran out of the abandoned mines and the water was the "keller" (color) "yella" (yellow.) We had a "yard" (lawn) that turned purple in the spring when the "johnny jump ups" (violets) bloomed. When my brother and I misbehaved, we got a "lickin" (a spanking usually from our mother with a birch switch we had to go choose and cut ourselves.) If she didn't have time for a switch, we may have gotten a "Hunkie backhand" (slap across the face named to Hungarian and Czechoslovakian immigrants who had settle the area to mine coal.)

My Grandma did the "warsh" wash every Monday without fail whether it needed it or not. Tuesday she ironed and Wednesday she "red up" (cleaned) the house. (From the practice of painting the barn red to make it look better.) She used a "dish rag" (cloth) to do the dishes. She used "gum bands" (rubber bands) to hold things together. For breakfast we liked our eggs "dippy" (over easy) with "butter bread" (bread with butter on it.) We had supper in the evening and dinner at lunch. We ate "hoagies" (subs) or "jumbo" (bologna) "sammitches" (sandwiches) and washed them down with "pop" (soda.) In the winter we'd eat "deer meat" (venison.)  After supper we'd get "naged" (naked) to take a bath using a "wash rag" (wash cloth.)

We caught "feesh" (fish) using a fishing "pole" (rod) outfitted with "string" (line.)  We picked "burries" in the "rideaway" (right-of-way) and tried to stay clear of "jaggers" (thorns.)  My grandfather was my "Pap" and he loved to plant "posies" (flowers.)  When it rained outside he'd put on his "gum boots" (rubber boots.)

When Grandma's milk was "all" (gone), she went to the A&P store and she bought her stuff home in a "poke" (bag.) When she was exasperated, the worse thing I ever heard her say was "oh, sugar teats" (from the old practice of putting sugar in a "rag" for babies to suck on when they were cranky.)

And, I'll close with this piece of Pennsylvania Dutch wisdom, "Early morning rain is like an old woman's dance (and like the landlord's smile)--neither lasts too long."