I played a show in Richmond last weekend to celebrate the 4th anniversary of the community house I founded there.  On the drive north to West Virginia, I barely glimpsed the colors of the Southern Cross in the grass along the side of the road.  Curious, I turned the car around and walked over to the cloth.  It was even more unique than a plain ole battle flag.

The relationship of modern people to symbols like this is complicated, and my personal experience is confusing, both of which I wrote about in my article for Quail Bell:

Confederacy Torn: A Modern War of Ancestral Symbols

That article was written before the row over the South Carolina statehouse had resulted in the removal of the flag there, but I think it's still relevant to current discussions surrounding the hated symbol.