It was a spring day in 2002 when I made a promise to myself to leave the South and never look back — a massive family history — mostly Biblical list of men who married women and begot children who begot children — her newly freed slaves — never a whisper about slaves — We’d rather opine about barbecue sauce — the pledge of allegiance to the Confederacy — By the middle of January, he stopped eating popsicles — can’t help but be haunted by the ghosts living in our land and our food — Screw manners — screw acting like history of the South isn't about white pride.
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