Opinion

It was a scorching hot summer day in central south Georgia circa 1971. It was the day of the Democratic primary. There was no Republican primary in the county in question at the time. The county’s only beer store, run by the town which served as county seat, was closed until the polls closed at 7 p.m.

I was among a group of teenage boys who gathered in Mr. Crane’s yard. Crane was the county’s sole commissioner and ran things with an iron fist. I had been invited by my friend, Crane’s son, to help “give rides to the polls”. There was only one polling place, the county courthouse. [Full Story »]