“When White Supremacists Take a Detour to Pleasantville: A Comedy of Errors in Williamson County”
Williamson County, Tennessee, a place known for its opulence, top-notch schools, and a generous sprinkle of country music stardust. A locale where the biggest controversy might involve choosing the right wine for a weekend soiree, not the arrival of neo-Nazis.
But lo and behold! Last month, they made a cameo appearance in Franklin, a quaint suburb 20 miles south of Nashville. Because nothing says “racial harmony” like a Civil War-era mansion and an annual Pumpkinfest.
At a forum endorsing mayoral candidate Gabrielle Hanson, a local Realtor and alderman, the audience got more than they bargained for — a sprinkle of neo-Nazis supporting Hanson. Now, Franklin is more accustomed to debates over the best pumpkin pie recipe, not the “European race” dialogue from the Patriot Front.
On election day, downtown Franklin looked like a scene from a political comedy — posters from the Patriot Front gracing the streets, and the local newspaper, the Williamson Herald, reporting not-so-funny vandalism, with neo-Nazis playing the role of unexpected party crashers.
Hanson, whom some enthusiasts described as God’s chosen candidate (yes, a self-described prophet is a fan), denied any racism support but played the “I won’t denounce” card regarding her white supremacist fans. It’s like a sitcom where the lead character is simultaneously trying to juggle bowling balls and flaming torches.
And when Hanson lost to incumbent Ken Moore by a landslide, it was like the grand finale of a fireworks show. Cue the huge jump in voter turnout and the confetti of common sense.
But here’s the kicker — Christian nationalism is apparently on the rise in Williamson County. Forget about rich folks arguing about which country club has the best golf course; now, it’s about who’s more Christian nationalist. It’s like turning a Shakespearean drama into a high-stakes bingo night.
Holly McCall, a longtime resident and former chair of the Williamson County Democratic Party, feels like she needs a tinfoil hat(made from the heavy duty turkey cooking variety)to make sense of it all. In a place that looks like Pleasantville, the sudden appearance of white supremacists is about as logical as a cat in a spacesuit. Or maybe not?
The most privileged people in the U.S. are acting as if they’re on the brink of unimaginable persecution.( or racial intermingling; got to keep the cream clean)Forget about drama; this is a tragicomedy of epic proportions.
And Hanson, with her campaign website boasting her as an American, a patriot, a follower of Christ, a mom, and the wife of a speedo wearing gay pride marching husband ( we can’t un-see that image) is just the latest act in a series of Christian leaders warning that Williamson County’s way of life is hanging by a thread. Forget about Marvel superheroes; here, suburban Christians with a lot to lose are the protagonists.
In a county that’s seen it all — from Tea Party fervor to anti-Shariah movements — it’s clear that the old guard has passed the mic to the once-fringe players. It’s like a political open mic night where the acts went from folksy tunes to fear-inducing solos.
The real peril? A community filled with prosperous, professional Christians who are convinced they’re facing unimaginable persecution. It’s like a comedy show where the punchline is, “What if the most privileged people were also the most paranoid?” And there you have it — the not-so-epic tale of Williamson County, where white supremacists drop by for a cameo, and the residents wonder if they accidentally stepped into a sitcom without a laugh track.
