Richard Kilbourne is the last scion of an aristocratic Southern family whose fortune dates back to the antebellum cotton trade. Today he lives alone in a Faulkneresque house deep in the Louisiana countryside, isolated and ambivalent about his ancestry and the soul of the contemporary South. I met Richard on the street one winter morning while photographing another project in Louisiana. He invited me into his home, and surrounded by his deceased sister's paintings, we talked over tea for a couple hours. He invited me to stay with him when I came back. I decided to use my camera as a tool to understand Richard and his emotional turmoil, and, more broadly, to see how I could use it to create closeness with a single individual and understand pieces of his past. The bitter irony is that while Richard has forsaken -- indeed, holds in contempt -- his ancestors' conservative ideas about race and Southern "heritage" (and is progressive on a number of contemporary issues), he never married or had children, and thus one family's chance for redemption will die alongside him. The longstanding moral decay of the South's white gentry, while critical to understanding the region, is seldom addressed through photographs in any complexity today. I hope "The Old Man on Bank Street" sheds light on this issue and creates a dialogue that is necessary if the South is ever to change and move beyond its original sin. I present it alongside captions excerpted from writings Richard exchanged with me.