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Wednesday, April 25, 2018, 7:57 a.m.

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Goodbye, Colonel Rebel

I heard them before I saw them: the sound of the engine, the car horn playing “Dixie.” It was 1982, and I stood outside Deaton Hall, my dormitory at the University of Mississippi, as a Jeep full of young men waving a Confederate flag the size of an afghan cruised by, threw a smaller flag at my feet and yelled, “Nigger, pick it up!” What I couldn’t know at that ...

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