I’m from Massachusetts (the North) and in the mid-1960s, flying cross‑country from Daytona Beach to an airport near Tampa Florida (the South), I passed by the Orlando airport and tuned the frequency for a brand‑new reporting system named ATIS.
I caught the recorded transmission about halfway and heard the following:
“Temperature 28. Dew point 10. Landing Runway 36. When contacting Orlando tower report you have received information, excuse the expression, Yankee.”
David, when I was young (a long time ago) I remember my grandma (whose Southern father was orphaned by the Civil War) joking that she only recently learned that “damnYankee” was two words.
You don’t have to go back to the Civil War. Before US 1 was assembled from existing east coast roads, there was a seasonal invasion of aliens from northern states that periodically flooded the Atlantic Highway. They filled the new cinderblock “motor-hotels” that popped up along it, bringing much-appreciated seasonal dollars at the expense of the natives’ more languid rural lifestyle. In those days, if you didn’t have a Cracker accent, you were a Yankee, even if you grew up in Charleston, SC. If you didn’t have the accent and were in a hurry, you were a Damyankee. If you were a jerk in a hurry with a funny accent, you were a Godamyankee. In many ways, not much has changed, besides I-95, until you get to the major metropoli which are filled with fifth-generation GDY’s.
All one has to do is to go from northern Illinois to Southern Illinois. One doesn’t even have to leave the state to be considered a Yankee
I always say Yakee, can’t say the other word. Always a Red Sox Fan!