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April 22, 2014


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Glomarization, Esq.

It's the "Home for Needy Confederate Women" in Richmond. Now it's part of the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts.

Alfred L. Brophy

Glormarization -- darn you're good. You got that exactly right. Nicely done; I figured this was going to be absurdly difficult. Sometime soon I want to put up a picture of the entrance, which has the name inscribed in stone. Also I want to put up some pictures of the neo-Confederate protesters at the VMFA this weekend. They're angry that the VMFA won't let them fly a Confederate flag at the chapel on the VMFA grounds (which used to be a home for Confederate veterans). Things have changed a *lot* in Richmond over the past century.

Glomarization, Esq.


I think there's an interesting tension between on the one hand admiration for providing for the widows and children (presumably girls), who would have lost their breadwinners in an era when there were few options for them to provide for themselves, and on the other hand the disgust at the cause their breadwinners lost their lives for. Cynically, were the homes truly set up in good faith, or were they at least in part PR moves to demonstrate the gallantry of those who fought for "[their] peculiar institution"?

> angry that the VMFA won't let them
> fly a Confederate flag [...] Things
> have changed a *lot* in Richmond over
> the past century

Are you sure those two sentences support each other? :)

I spent my early years in Chesterfield County (and retain a couple of habits in pronunciation to this day). One summer when I was a small child, my mother would take my sister and me to a YMCA to play in the pool. After a few visits she noted that the other mothers wouldn't talk to her, and the other children weren't permitted to hang with me and my sister. She spoke to the pool manager, who told her, "Well, they think you're Jewish." My mother took her Mediterranean self and her children and found another facility the very next day; and when I was older, I would think, "Would they really have treated us better if they'd known we were, in fact, Catholic?"

I imagine the odds are slim to none that some of those same Stars and Bars-wavers were at that pool when I was a kid in the 1970s. But I tell you, while I'm likely stuck with my accent for the rest of my life, you could never entice me to move back south of the Mason-Dixon line while I'm still compos mentis.

Alfred L. Brophy

Glormarization -- lots to talk about there. Those are quite some stories of life in the Richmond suburbs in the 1970s.

I'm always astonished at how much the world has changed since the early 1960s. Many of the changes were well under-way when I worked in Richmond in 1990-91 (Croson was then a recent precedent.) One sign of the changes: the Virginia attorney general refuses to support the state's ban on same-sex marriage.

I hung around a little to watch the protest. They all looked middle aged. The younger crowd's focused on other issues, I should imagine, to care about this. Two other data points -- first, they had a huge sign that said something like honk if you love the Confederate flag. No one did while I was there. Also, there was a counter-protester.

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