There’s an ongoing debate here in the great state of Indiana over the origins of the word "Hoosiers". My Granddad, he falls into the first camp, and me, I fall into the second.
My Granddad says Indiana folk are called Hoosiers because folks in Indiana are so curious they are always popping here and there, poking their heads into every door they see, and calling "Who’s here?".
Me, I think we are called Hoosiers because of the hushers. That’s what they used to call the town bully, because he could hush his opponent. Since we Indiana folk are so big and strong, we get called "hushers" or "hooshers" as our neighbors in Louisiana like to say.
I don’t know if we will ever reconcile the two sides to each other. But anyhow, Indiana folk are called Hoosiers, right enough. And we’re proud of it, too!
Gouverneur Morris, American minister to the court of Louis XVI, was considerably enriched, at the close of the reign of terror, by plate, jewels, furniture, paintings, coaches, and so on, left in his charge by members of the French nobility, that they might not be confiscated in the sack of the city.
Some years before the outbreak of the Civil War, a man with his wife and daughter took up their residence in a log cabin at the foot of Sunrise Rock, near Chattanooga, Tennessee. It seemed probable that they had known better days, for the head of the household was believed to get his living through “writin’ or book-larnin’,” but was fairly useless at hunting and farming.
Wallen’s Ridge, a rough eminence about a dozen miles from Chattanooga, Tennessee, was once an abiding place of Cherokee Indians, among whom lived Arinook, their medicine-man, and his daughter. The girl was pure and fair, and when a passing hunter from another tribe saw her one day at the door of her father’s home he was so struck with her charm of person and her engaging manner that he resolved not to return to his people until he had won her for his wife.