Driving Home “Save a half hour,” my host said, “and leave towndriving North ‘cross country on Highway One.”So on a balmy day in May I set offto travel home across the rural South. The road ran past broken farms, peach orchards,Bar BQ joints, quaint old towns and junkyards;trailer parks and dilapidated shacks–the homes of poor white folks and poorer blacks. With stenciled signs the country churches woretheir ignorance with pride and proclaimed their waron the world, the flesh and the... Read more