An excerpt from Cracker Gothic: A Florida Woman’s Memoir

I’m barreling toward Interstate 95, the north-south artery that will hurtle me into Florida. A friend tells me, “No one loves a road trip better than you,” and he’s right. I have been traveling this journey since I was a baby, a thousand-mile round trip embedded in my DNA. My mother’s ancestors settled in the Okefenokee Swamp of South Georgia before the Civil War. Later they migrated further south into Florida. My father teased my mother that her family crawled out from under a log in the Okefenokee Swamp, and there is more than a little truth to that.

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