It must be wonderful to live in a small town, kind of Mayberry like. Remember Mayberry, with the lovable homespun sheriff Taylor, single parent to his adorable son Opie? Oh, the wonderful maternalism of Aunt Bee, forever cooling fresh baked pies on the window sill. A small town. A small town of decent, god fearing folk who look out for one another, and why they even needed a sheriff is beyond me. How odd. I don’t seem to recall any Black folk in Mayberry. Oh, why ruin things, harboring such thoughts?

CW star Jason Aldean has released a song and video called “Try That In A Small Town, ” which has generated a bit of controversy. A sample of the lyrics:

“Sucker punch somebody on a sidewalk, carjack an old lady at a red light… Cus out a cop, spit in his face… yeah, you think you’re tough. Well try that in a small town, see how far you make it down the road… Full of good ol’ boys, raised up right if you’re looking for a fight- try that in a small town, see how far ya make it down the road.”

In the accompanying video scenes of street protests, burning buildings, rioters throwing rocks at cops etc. are rampant. In the original version, since deleted, were scenes of Black Lives Matter, showing their rage in the wake of the police murder of George Floyd. The video’s setting is the Maury County Courthouse building in Columbia Tennessee, draped majestically by Old Glory. But why this location? Well, not only was this the site of the race riots in 1946 (one man’s riot is another man’s insurrection) but a notorious lynching as well (I know- a bit of a limp word to describe a lynching. Celebrity romances are notorious, lynchings are barbaric and horrific.) In 1927 a white mob (white mob? A redundancy considering the historic time and place) pulled an 18 year old Black man named Henry Choate from jail and dragged him by car through the city. Choate had allegedly attacked a 16 year old white girl. The girl could not positively identify him as the assailant, but these hard working, god fearing folk had little time for nit picking, and so Choate was hung until dead from a window.

Once upon a time, August of 1955 to be exact, a big city 13 year old Black boy named Emmett Till journeyed from the big city of Chicago, where horrible things happen to good people, to the placid, bucolic small town of Drew, Mississippi, to visit relatives. While buying candy at a local store, Emmett Till was accused of flirting with the white woman proprietor. Several nights later the woman’s husband and his brother abducted Emmett who was staying with his great-uncle. Three days later Till’s bloated and mutilated body was was found in the Tallahatchie River.

Such wonderful wholesome values these small town folk have, sticking together, taking care of their own. All those horrific crimes and mayhem in the big bad cities would never happen there.

Unless you’re not one of them. A big city outsider, or maybe an innocent Black boy naive about the ways and rules of small towns. Think of Henry Choate hanging by his neck. Think of Emmett Till and his experience of small town, Southern hospitality, his mama insisting on an open casket funeral so the world could see her baby, his face an unrecognizable pulp.

Try it in a small town. Emmett Till’s murderers tried and succeeded in a small town and they were acquitted by a small town jury, decent folk all, looking out for one another.