9 Everyday Words That Mean Something Else Once You Cross Into Tennessee

You know what a bag, a shopping cart, and a winter hat are called.

At least you think you do.

In Tennessee, familiar words like those can have a completely different vocabulary.

These are some of the everyday words that mean something else once tourists from other parts of the country cross into Tennessee.

1. Toboggan

In Tennessee, a toboggan is a knit winter cap, not a sled.

Nobody’s sledding in it.

Dialect researchers have documented this exact swap across Tennessee, Kentucky, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Texas, and West Virginia.

Sledders once wore knit caps to stay warm, and those caps picked up the name “toboggan hat.”

Tennessee kept the hat and dropped the sled a long time ago, since snow days that call for an actual toboggan run are rare south of the Smokies.

2. Holler

Tennessee mountain speech uses holler to name a small valley, not a shout.

No shouting needed.

You don’t have to yell to be standing in one.

Dialect researchers at the University of South Carolina’s Southern Appalachian English archive trace the word to hollow, a sheltered spot between ridges.

They cite East Tennessee place names like Piedy Holler as proof the word stuck.

Families in a holler tend to know every car that drives through, out-of-state plates included.

3. Ill

Ill describes a bad-tempered person or animal in East Tennessee, not someone with a fever.

Meaner, not sicker.

A dialect study from 1886 calls this sense of the word common in East Tennessee.

The same 1886 study even records Smoky Mountain speakers ranking rattlesnakes by temperament, calling the worst-tempered ones the meanest of the bunch.

A Tennessean who calls a dog ill is warning you it might bite. “Puny” is the word they reach for when someone feels bad.

4. Poke

Tennesseans, especially in the eastern half of the state, still call a paper bag a poke.

Paper, not fingers.

The word traveled over with Scots-Irish settlers.

The Tennessee Encyclopedia lists it among the traditional terms field researchers found running stronger in the state’s eastern mountains than out west.

A grocery clerk in Sevier County might still ask if you need a poke for your tomatoes. Younger Tennesseans mostly just say bag.

5. Buggy

A buggy in Tennessee is a shopping cart, not a horse-drawn carriage or a stroller.

It rolls, never gallops.

Dialect researchers logged a 2001 report straight out of Chattanooga calling the usage “current and universal.”

A shopper who grew up outside the South notices it fastest in a Nashville Kroger, where staff and customers alike call every cart in the corral a buggy.

The word still holds on today, though many younger shoppers reach for cart instead.

6. Cut

Tennesseans cut a light or a television on or off instead of turning it on or off.

You won’t need a knife.

Dialect researchers trace the habit to older Scots-Irish and British usages of cut to mean switch.

The Dictionary of American Regional English maps it as a South Midland feature that runs straight through Tennessee.

Ask a Tennessee host to cut the TV on before the game.

She’ll reach straight for the remote.

7. Sorry

Sorry in Tennessee often describes something worthless or poorly made, not an apology.

Nobody’s apologizing.

The Dictionary of American Regional English records this sense across the South Midland, Tennessee included.

Dialect researchers in the Smoky Mountains have documented it used as both an adjective and a standalone noun.

A Tennessean who calls a used truck sorry isn’t feeling bad for it. She’s warning you not to buy it.

8. Directly

Directly means in a little while in Tennessee mountain speech, not in a straight line.

Could be five minutes.

Could be an hour.

A 1956 recording from Cosby, Tennessee, preserves a ghost story in which a threat to act “dreckly” means soon, not right that second.

A Tennessean who says she’ll be there directly could show up in ten minutes or after she finishes what she’s doing.

Asking twice won’t speed her up.

9. Mash

Tennesseans mash a button instead of pressing it, and the habit shows up on car dashboards, TV remotes, and doorbells alike.

Nothing here needs peeling.

The Dictionary of American Regional English marks this sense as common across the South and Midland states, the exact dialect belt that runs through Tennessee.

Researchers trace the usage to older Scots-Irish speech.

Mash a brake too hard on a gravel road outside Sevierville, and a Tennessean will just say you mashed it, not slammed it or stomped it.

The verb covers whatever needs pressing, pushing, or squashing, no matter how light or hard the touch is.

Mountain Speech's Bent Grammar

Tennessee's Smoky Mountain dialect adds an extra sound onto certain verbs, turning hunting into a-hunting and going into a-going.

It isn't random slang.

Linguist Walt Wolfram built a 400,000-word corpus of Smoky Mountain English from 136 interviews recorded across six counties along the Tennessee-North Carolina border.

The pattern follows strict rules that many speakers never learn consciously.

The a- prefix only attaches to a verb describing an action already underway, never to one acting like a noun.

A Tennessean might say a bear went a-runnin down the ridge.

Nobody would call a-running good exercise.

Wolfram's research treats the pattern as a rule-bound survival of older English, not a mistake outsiders assume it to be.