(Insert Southern drawl here:)
My, my. Uncle Jesse just upped and died on us, with not so much as a, "I'm a goin' now." I am so distraught that I never so much as got to tell him that I was his long, lost niece Monica . . . who used to be his NEPHEW BUFORD! I never did get to give that old fart the heart attack he deserved. I reckon someone else got to him first. I'm a guessin' he's in that special place with Lester Maddox and Strom Thurman, talking' about them good ol' days. "Ol'" is the key word in that sentence.

(End drawl)
NO! I'm not related to that SOB! I changed my last name as well as my first, long before I was aware of what an "A-H" he was, or even who he was. Now that he's gone, I hope that question I got all the time died with him.

The real shame is that the bastard died on the same day as John Adams and Thomas Jefferson and the right wing will doubtless play that as well.

He is a case study in how much hate one human form can hold. Monica, I agree with your Lester Maddox observation. I recall the first time I visited "underground Atlanta." in 1976. There was a store, that among other memorabilia sold brickbats signed by Lester Maddox. What minds would want one?

You always find the closet case angle, don't you? I had no idea about his granddaughter the GOP judge.