Why thousands of Southerners fled to Brazil after the Civil War, why they stayed, and why their descendants still remember I set out from rural North Carolina where folks drink beer, eat barbecue, and listen to Skynyrd on the local classic rock station, flew ten hours to São Paulo, took a cab eighty miles north through a pleasant stretch of Brazilian countryside, and exited onto a dirt road that wound through endless fields of sugarcane before delivering me here to the Cemitério do Campo, where Ive just stepped through the gate to find folks drinking beer, eating barbecue, and listening...