Life in the South was tough after the Civil War and Reconstruction and the rise of the KKK. The evilness that caused a name change from Patona to Piedmont stayed on. I was twelve when it first showed it hood. I realized there was something different about me and the little black boys and girls I picked cotton with in the cotton field. They were black skinned and I was white. That difference was a biggie. My mother knew the difference well and she cheated on my dad with the Grand Dragon so she was well informed about the KKK. I, however, was not and watched my back when around the main KKK clog. My father was in the dark about their affair and his dealings in the Klan and respected the old man. But not me. I took action one day and bombed his new 1950 Pontiac with a steel wheel off an old wheel barrel. That prompted the dirty old man to come at me but the business end of an old police thirty eight gave him a different prospectus and he backed off. My mother, however, did not and my life began to swirl in misery. So I stopped my noticing what she was doing with the old man and concentrated on an age old problem that fly in my face when I tried to get romantic with a girl. Her mother forbid me to see her because my grandpa, my mother's father, killed her brother. That was when I got into all kinds of trouble. I did not believe my grandpa would kill a flea and I went on a mission to proof he was innocent. It turned out the old boy that was killed burned down my grandpa's barn with twenty five pairs of high dollar mules inside. That bankrupted my grandpa and put my mother out of the high societal circle she traveled in as a young girl. I did not like being separated from my girl because of something that happened before I was born and set out to solve a mystery nobody would talk about. That led into more trouble and opened up a lot of closets with skeletons. No one would say anything about it except one. That was my uncle married to my mother's sister. He told me the whole story and I was about to confront my girl's mother with that truth. Then the unthinkable happened. Four men from the State's insane asylum showed up and took him off, crazy as a hatter and that was a set back. That did not faze me and I kept digging. I found out the killing my grandpa got the blame for was done by my mother's lover, the KKK Grand Dragon and the richest man in the State. It was witnessed by a black man and when he cast the blame all hell broke out. The next thing we knew town was covered with KKK men and they meant business. That brought in the FBI and they meant to deal with the Klan. In the meantime the killer of the barn burner's identity bounced around like a ping pong ball on a concrete floor. I finally convienced my girl's mother my grandpa did not kill her brother but she relented from allowing me to see her. That was when a green eyed beauty sought me out and stole my heart and then stomped on it. Now I had not girl, a mad mother, the Klan after me and nobody to protect me from their demons. However, I did not back up in a corner and die I fought back. When the brother of FBI director Pulvis showed up with Lawyer Nelson to defend a black man accused of murder. That turned out to be a blessing for I fell in with them and followed the trail closely. I provided much information that helped them to successfully defend him. When the case was over the lawyer sued the rich man and a settlement was made out of court. That turned out to be very rewarding for me. I ended up the richest boy in the State.