KU KRUX KLAN
1. Summer of '61, somewhere deep in the Old South, the fourth day of our "freedom ride." Our dilapidated bus rolls down the narrow back road, a choking cloud of red-hued dust marking it's passage.
It's nearly noon and I am feeling the first pangs of hunger. Bored, I stare out the open window at the seemingly endless sun-baked fields interspersed with patches of southern pine. Telephone poles whiz by in rapid succession. A rush of...
Ku Krux Klan
1. Summer of '61, somewhere deep in the Old South, the fourth day of our "freedom ride." Our dilapidated bus rolls down the narrow back road, a choking cloud of red-hued dust marking it's passage.
It's nearly noon and I am feeling the first pangs of hunger. Bored, I stare out the open window at the seemingly endless sun-baked fields interspersed with patches of southern pine. Telephone poles whiz by in rapid succession. A rush of...
Ku Krux Klan