![]() Frank, who is slowed by dire respiratory ailments, paused to rest against a wall, and as he leaned there, defiantly unreconstructed, he seemed a museum piece in his own right, a living relic up from the post-bellum ashes.įrank at Elmwood Cemetery in Norfolk. “It would be hypocritical of me,” he declared, breathing heavily as he lumbered toward an escalator. I suggested he take them off to avoid any hard feelings in the museum, but he refused. ![]() As usual, Frank, in a gray suit, wore an array of Confederacy-themed lapel pins, including two replicas of the flag. With the legacy of his rebel ancestors under constant assault by “nutty liberals,” and with the future of Confederate monuments in jeopardy, he is easily irritated and given to bitter sarcasm. She flashed him a wary glance: “Don’t mess with Dixie? What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank, a spokesman for the nation’s largest Confederate heritage group, replied evenly, “Means don’t mess with Dixie.” Otherwise, he managed to hold his tongue, a triumph of willpower in his case. Listen to this and other great stories from The Washington Post Magazine on the Curio app.
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