I am a Floridian born and raised. Publix started in my tiny Central Florida home town of Winter Haven. It was long lauded for a lot of good deeds. However as with another institution in my last city of Denver, when the founder dies, whoever inherits the money and the power may not necessarily inherit the intentions.

This is from their website:

As Publix supermarkets continued to spring up across the Southeast, improving to include delis, pharmacies, and even cooking schools, the company never veered from Mr. George's original philosophy of treating employees and customers like family. Our thousands of cashiers, baggers, meat cutters, and bakers are the company's largest collective shareholders—all trained to put their customers first. As a result, year after year, Publix has been hailed as the No. 1 supermarket for customer satisfaction, one of FORTUNE's "100 Best Companies to Work For," and as an inspiration for its sustainability efforts and community involvement.

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Yeah. Okay. Until, and When. As a fellow Floridian I was horrified to find out what she did. And now of course my opinion of Publix is forever tarnished, as are all American corporations whose founders poured poison money into such activities. Saddened, but not surprised.

Still, I suspect that George, being a Southerner, wasn't immune to the racism of his day, and despite the pleasant business story for the public about Publix, it's not just possible but entirely likely that his private feelings were very different, and influenced his lugnut daughter. Who knows. But yeah. Winn Dixie is everywhere, and while I despise the word Dixie for its connotations, I am still a child of the Deep South, and raised under its palm trees and Spanish Moss. And its history of strange fruit.