Major Lewis Ginter

by Jonah Begone

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The other day Honoria and I toured a local garden, specifically, the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond. It was... nice. Senior admission was $15 (a bit steep) and I wished we had visited a few weeks prior, when more flowers were blooming and the prevailing temps were about ten degrees cooler. But it was pleasant.

I had discovered the place last year when riding down Route 1 on my Harley. "Hm," thought I, "I'll have to visit this attraction with Honoria." Check that box.

But who was Lewis Ginter? Imagine my shock and horror - I am literally shaking - to discover that he was actually Major Lewis Ginter, C.S.A., a... Confederate! How is it that a horde of statue-topplers and screaming harridans haven't demanded that this place be renamed for, say, some suitable modern Democrat? I do not know, save perhaps that they're lazy and haven't bothered to investigate him as I have done. The South used to be a place where old times weren't forgotten, but that has apparently changed.

Imagine my additional horror to discover that Ginter was also in the cigarette business.

What could serve to shield Ginter from modern-day cancellation? From wikipedia: "Ginter and Pope remained lifelong bachelors, both living in Ginter's home, until Pope's premature death in 1896. Pope was buried in a plot in Hollywood Cemetery that Ginter had reserved for himself. While the intimate details of their relationship are unknown, Pope's obituary said he 'lived quietly with Major Ginter, for whom he possessed the most ardent affection.' And Ginter's obituary said he 'never pointedly sought' the company of women.'"

Ah. That explains a lifetime of attempting to zhush up Richmond after the war.

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