He derides the men in the pictures as mere white separatists and worthless Klansmen. Davis also displays a medallion stamped into it are the words "KKK Member in good standing."ĭoles goes ballistic. There's Imperial Wizard Roger Kelly, Grand Giant Tony LaRicci, Grand Giant Bob White. Davis retrieves them from the car, spreads them out. Doles, breaking free of the handshake, calls for the photos. In a letter requesting this interview, Davis claimed to have pictures of his meetings with other ranking Klansmen. But the pale, tattooed hand is going nowhere, not while entangled in the huge, calm fingers of the darker hand. The black man gets a good grip and holds on while he answers, telling Doles about the other Klansmen he's met. Whether out of courtesy or plain habit, Doles takes it. Soon Chester Doles is storming around, loudly demanding to know just what the hell business a black man has with the Ku Klux Klan. The black man offers his hand and his name: "I'm Daryl Davis." The Knighthawk's hand is swallowed up in the massive grip. Inferring a truce, the Klansman cocks his knife and hangs it at the ready from a belt loop. The black man slides off the hood, meets the Klansman halfway, palms open and visible, eyes locked. He's sporting a T-shirt that says "It's a white thing, you wouldn't understand." He flicks open a large knife and carefully approaches the Lincoln. He's a Knighthawk the bodyguard for the regional KKK leader. The door swings wide and a beefy guy lurches out. The black man gives them a friendly wave. However, the large dude perched on the hood is clearly non-Anglo-Saxon. Grand Klaliff Chester Doles of the Invisible Empire, Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, and his retinue were supposed to be meeting some guy in a Town Car. Seven unsmiling faces peer at the man on the car. Two cars pull slowly into the lot after circling the perimeter. He studies each car that turns into the plaza not exactly sure what to look for, but certain of one thing: When the Klansmen arrive, they won't be amused. He's waiting for the Ku Klux Klan to show up. On a scorching summer day in Elkton, Md., in the middle of a half-empty shopping center parking lot, a man sits on the hood of his Lincoln Town Car, mopping his brow and consulting his wristwatch.
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