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When I was a little girl, a relative of ours killed a man

…and justice isn’t always what you think.

When I was a little girl in Alabama, a relative of ours killed a man.

Frank, we’ll call him, was my father’s cousin-by-marriage, a giant of a man and a meat-cutter by trade. He was the kind of guy, Dad said, that an officer would give his right arm for in combat, but…