▼ Summary
– The article’s author invited readers to call a tip line to discuss the Boston accent after a piece on its decline, initially worrying no one would call.
– An 84-year-old named Sid McDonough was the first caller, sharing that he tried to lose his accent in the Navy but later saw it as a treasure.
– Nearly 50 voicemails poured in from across the country, expressing intense affection and pride for the Boston accent.
– Callers described the accent as a symbol of family, identity, and community, with some expressing sadness over its potential disappearance in younger generations.
– The author found the callers’ pride and directness heartening, describing it as a balm during difficult times and a testament to local identity.
The distinctive sound of a Boston accent, with its dropped ‘r’s and unique vocabulary, represents far more than a regional dialect, it’s a powerful symbol of identity, family, and community. In an era of constant news and digital noise, the heartfelt stories from locals who cherish their speech patterns offer a refreshing connection to personal history and place.
A recent article exploring the decline of this iconic accent prompted an unexpected wave of response. Dozens of voicemails poured in from across the country, each brimming with affection and pride. The first call came from 84-year-old Sid McDonough, who shared a story from his Navy days. His shipmates once teased him for his way of speaking, leading him to try and shed it. “After I got out and came back home, I realized my accent was a treasure,” he reflected, a sentiment that echoed through nearly every message.
These callers described their accent as a warm, familiar comfort, comparing it to a hot coffee on a freezing day. One retired nurse recalled a colleague who told her she “sounded stupid” when she spoke. Her sharp retort was that he sounded like he was from New York, “which was worse.” She proudly linked her speech to her family roots, noting her father was a Boston firefighter and her mother grew up in Roxbury.
For many, the accent is an indelible link to childhood and community. “If you put me in a room with kids I grew up with, it comes back instantly,” one reader noted. This generational connection is what makes its potential disappearance feel so personal. Katherine Loftus, the daughter of a South Boston resident, said it “literally kills me” to think her children won’t inherit the same distinctive, r-less dialect.
The accent is also intertwined with a broader cultural attitude. Boston-born Stephanie McCloud connected her way of speaking to a “take-no-prisoners” outlook and the loyalty of New Englanders. “We say what we think … but whenever we are friends, we’re friends for life,” she shared. This straightforward, authentic demeanor feels like a welcome respite in today’s complicated world.
The responses beautifully challenged stereotypes, too. Daria, a Roxbury native, submitted a poem to correct those who “think there are no African Americans with Boston accents.” Her verses painted a vivid, everyday scene:
Out of bed at half past six grab onto your Dunkin’ fix. Check the piggybank for quarters, drive the rotary like martyrs.
Listening to these stories was a genuine delight, a reminder of how speech can anchor us to home and heritage. It serves as a love letter to the region, a celebration of its character with or without the classic pronunciation. The proof might even be in the next generation, as one writer noted her eight-year-old now naturally says “mirrah” for mirror.
(Source: Boston Globe)