Those were the days

White supremacist rallies aren't the way they used to be. Lenslinger reminisces.

I remember my first couple of Klan Rallies (who doesn’t?). I was still in my early twenties when the video-camera I’d starting carrying on my shoulder dragged me through a long, hot summer of KKK events. I attended several, there in part because I was fascinated by such acutely bent thinking but mostly because I worked weekends back then and the local inbreds-in-bed sheets favored marching on Saturdays. Most that I went too were relatively quiet affairs, just ten to fifteen hillbillies waving flags and looking silly as they sauntered and strutted down the deserted streets of some Downeast downtown. Most of the spectators wore blue helmets with face-shields, the rest hid behind oversized fancy-cams.