He was seven when the Civil War was lost and a squadron of Union cavalry rode down a dusty road and into his home town of Lynchburg, Va. A blue-clad rider hauled him up into the saddle and asked: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" He was frail, sickly and small for his age. But he struck out wildly and screamed: "A Confederate major who shoots Yankees." Carter Glass never outgrew his frailty, his sickliness, his ferocity with fists and tongue. And he never forgot not for a minutehe was a Virginian and a Democrat.
He was...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In