WHAT’S IN A NAME?

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

For a variety of reasons, we will not be taking trips to our usual summer haunts this year.  The primary reason is that Dash the Wonder Dog cannot be at an elevation above 7,000 ft.  We love spending time in Mammoth Lakes each year, but at a whopping 8900 feet, it is out of the question.  So, I’ve been spending time looking for some alternative destinations and during my quest became fascinated with the nicknames people have given states. Each of America’s fifty states has multiple nicknames that have been adopted over the years, though the origins aren’t always clear.  As I read some of the more unique nicknames, I began to wonder how they came about and if there is any logic to them.  We humans usually get a nickname based on something about our physical being – “Stretch” for a tall person or “Lefty” for a left-handed person or a golfer who gambles.  And while it is true that many states developed nicknames based upon things that they identify with or that set them apart, some of the names are so quirky that no one can agree on how they came into being.  I’m looking at you, Indiana. What exactly is a Hoosier?

As it turns out, some of the state nicknames are just like their human counterparts, based on a physical or historical event.  For example, Maine is known as the “Pine Tree” state, while Delaware is known as the “First State”.  Many states adopted animal names that are common to the state, such as the badgers in Wisconsin or the Hawkeyes in Iowa.  California is known as the “Golden State”, not for the Warriors, but for the gold rush.  Today the slogan might be the “exodus state”, but hopefully they can turn that around.

Tennessee is known as the “Volunteer State.”  I knew the name was coined when an abundance of men volunteered to join the army, but I assumed it was during the Civil War.  Turns out it stems from the Mexican American War from 1846-1848 when the Tennessee governor asked for 2,600 volunteers and over 30,000 volunteers responded!  Today, the University of Tennessee claims “Volunteers” as its nickname but since 1956 it has used a Bluetick Coonhound dog as the official mascot.  I don’t know how they went from army volunteers to a dog, but anything with a dog is a good thing.  Maybe they wanted to compete with “Uga”, the bulldog mascot for their arch-rivals, the University of Georgia.  If the football teams stink at least they have cute dogs to watch.

Some state nicknames are a bit harder to pin down.  Florida can’t make up its mind about what it wants to be called (insert joke here).  Over the years it has been known as the “Sunshine State,” the “Peninsula State,” the “Alligator State,” the “Everglade State,” the “Flower State,” the “Gulf State,” and the “Orange State.” The official nickname for Illinois is the “Prairie State”, but the state slogan, “Land of Lincoln”, is the more popular moniker and is on their license plates.  That probably reads better than “Murder Capital of the US”.  Some names are bit more derogatory in nature.  Missouri’s nickname, the “Show-Me State”, is not official, but it’s widely used and has a unique origin story. In an 1899 speech, Congressman Willard Duncan Vandiver said: “Frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. I am from Missouri. You have got to show me.” This became a self-deprecating shorthand for Missouri stubbornness, which can be a somewhat endearing quality – until it becomes toxic.

As for those Hoosiers, while many people think of the wonderful 1986 movie by that name, there are no definitive answers as to how the nickname originated.  Among the theories are a popular greeting to an unexpected knock on the door with “Who’s yere?” turning into Hoosier.  Another theory is that it came about from the nickname of Indiana rivermen – “Husher”. The Indiana Historical Bureau says the prevailing theory on its source is that Samuel Hoosier, a contractor, preferred to hire laborers from Indiana. So we’ll probably never know exactly what a Hoosier is.

My own state nickname is rather boring – the “Grand Canyon” state.  And while it’s beautiful, I think a more apt name might be “Hotter that Hell”, “Fry an Egg on the Sidewalk”, or “It’s Like Living in a Microwave Oven”.  I don’t think the Chamber of Commerce will be calling me anytime soon.