The Bayou's Daughter
The bayou remembers what the land forgets. I learned this the hard way, in the summer of 1928, when I was twenty-four years old and my family had decided that Louisiana was the place to send a son who looked at the world the way a man looks at a room he has entered by mistake. My name is Thomas Beauregard the Third. The Beauregards were once one of the prominent families of southern...
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