You’ve heard of Minnesota Nice. You’ve seen the Fargo TV show and the movie, so you are painfully aware of the stereotypical Narth Dahkohtah accent. “Aw jeez, oofda and darn, dontchaknow. Youbetcha!”
But did you know the Black Hills has a vernacular of its very own?
“Oh, you’re fine.”
I have known, somewhat by coincidence, several people who are from Ohio. And they each like to make fun of the tendency of people in Ohio to apologize, sometimes to a comical degree. I lived half of my life under the mistaken impression that people from South Dakota invented the apology, but I now realize that what we are actually experts at is waving off apologies.
A typical exchange goes like this: you are walking out of an elevator and there is someone there waiting. You step out and almost bump into them. You say, “Excuse me, sorry.” And they respond, “Oh, you’re fine.” It’s just like that, every time. Some people may switch it up and try out variations or elongate the saying, “Oh, you’re absolutely good. Don’t even worry about it,” is one that snuck up on me recently. Nonetheless, the basic ingredients remain the same.
“Crick” not creek
As far as actual regional vernacular, this is fairly common, particularly amongst kids: “We were playing down at the crick.” It isn’t necessarily specific to South Dakota. Though I have found it to be more pervasive here, than in say, Montana, where I have also lived and have heard it said.
Ending Days of the Week in “ee” as in “Fridee,” “Mondee”
This only seems to apply to days of the week and not to words like “daytime.”
This affectation is particularly common with people who say “rig” or “vehicle” instead of car or truck. It’s a bit of ranchspeak, in other words.
“Warsh” (wash) as in “warsh” your hands
More common with the older generations, semi-intentional mispronunciations of certain words must have been a trend at one point in the Black Hills and some of those seem to have stuck. “Westren” (western), “restrunt” (restaurant), “thee-YAY-ter” (theater) and “puh-TAY-duhs” (potatoes) are all words that exist under this same idiom. Add to that a hard a in avocado, like the one in avalanche, so that it becomes “ave-a-cado” and you’ve got yourself a subvernacular!
Special Guest, from the East River of South Dakota: Pierre
In this case, it is often out-of-staters who mispronounce it “pee-air.” It’s actually just “peer” or “pier” if you’re the seafaring type. The name comes from a person, and not a butler in a Vaudeville caper, but Pierre Choteau, Jr, a wealthy Missouri merchant/robber baron. It is apparently a mistaken pronunciation of his name, after all. And—wait, it’s his first name, not his last name? What the heck? No wonder it’s so confusing. That’s East River for you.
What's Good, Black Hills? 
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