Like many frustrated Southerners in the aftermath of the hurricane named Katrina, I drove a small truck-and-trailer full of food and water to South Mississippi. I met some refugees at a camp site, during the trip down. They appeared to be poor whites. One, a native of Bay St. Louis, was snarling against the "looters", using racial epithets. When informed that I planned to take food straight to the hungry people in the streets, this man (who had already taken offense when I challenged his bigotry) snorted, "Good. You gone find out then. Great. You go right ahead." His words left me more determined than ever.
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