I knew the Red Heat was coming because the air in my father's library suddenly felt too warm, and my father has always kept the house at a temperature that would make a Northerner weep.
The library was on the second floor of Blackwater Plantation, a Greek Revival structure built in 1847 by my great-grandfather, a man who made his fortune in cotton and spent the rest of his life trying to hold onto it. The house sits on the banks of the Black River in eastern Louisiana, surrounded by cypress trees and water — the river is high this time of year, and the land between the house...
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