More immigrant arrivals mean more fears in Appalachia

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http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/nation/4279761.htmlNational

Melinda Cody, left, and Jodi Stafford listen during an anti-immigration rally that was moved to a parking lot in Morristown, Tenn., in late June after frustration with the police presence at the original site. Cody said she doesn't think the way Appalachia natives have reacted to illegal immigrants is unique.
Sharon Steinmann: Houston Chronicle
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Oct. 23, 2006, 2:45PM
Our Town — The Rally
More immigrant arrivals mean more fears in Appalachia


By KIM COBB
Copyright 2006 Houston Chronicle

MORRISTOWN, TENN. — The khaki-clad state troopers hup-hupped into formation on opposite sides of the courthouse lawn, wearing riot gear and clutching batons.

About 100 state and local officers stood on the square this summer, some carrying M-16 rifles. They were more than a match for an equal number of mostly middle-aged locals arriving for the anti-illegal immigration rally.

It was one of the most confounding spectacles this little town of 25,000 had ever seen.

The only way to step on the lawn between the rows of troopers was through a security checkpoint, surrendering anything that looked like it could be used as a weapon. Ted Mitchell and his flag never made it in.

"It's an American flag!" Mitchell sputtered.

You can bring the flag into the rally, a police officer explained, but you have to leave your flag pole.

Mitchell's face got redder. His yelling got louder. In an instant the 62-year-old man was scuffling with the police. They pushed him to the ground, cuffed him and carted him off in a police car.

By the time lame-duck County Commissioner Tom Lowe was ready to start the rally, the police helicopter overhead was so loud that even people standing a few feet away couldn't hear him.

"They brought in all this overwhelming force like there was going to be some kind of violence," Lowe shouted over the din. "I understand this to be a violation of my constitutional rights!"

What would make a little town like this prepare for battle on the courthouse lawn?

Local police officials said they had gathered information that members of the Ku Klux Klan, a familiar presence in East Tennessee, might show up and force a confrontation. People identified as Klan members had attended previous anti-immigrant rallies in the Morristown area.

The loudest voice against illegal immigration in Morristown is Lowe, who turned his county job into a pulpit for immigration issues. Critics say his one-note tirades are the reason voters booted him out of office when he ran for re-election this year.

"I think people think I'm racist," Lowe said, " but I'm not."

"The people in this area don't like illegal anything — whether it's meth labs or illegal aliens," Lowe said. "Because of the refusal to enforce the immigration laws, we have the (financial) burden on us."


Doesn't feel threatened
Justino Hernandez left Mexico 11 years ago. He sells tacos and tamales in Morristown from a white van with his restaurateur's license displayed prominently on the window.

Hernandez doesn't feel threatened by harsh talk directed at illegal immigrants. His attitude about Morristown is shaped by the people he deals with every day, Anglo and Latino.

"If I'm kind to them, they're kind to me," he explained with a shrug. "If they are nervous (about immigrants), they don't have confidence in themselves."

In less than a decade, Morristown has changed from an overwhelmingly white community to a town with a sizeable Latino population, thanks to immigration patterns spreading across the Southeast. The Pew Hispanic Center estimates that 57 percent of Latinos in areas such as Morristown are foreign-born, and more than half are in the nation illegally.

Many residents are frustrated with the growing numbers of non-English speaking children entering the Hamblen County public schools.

The state's low-income medical insurance program, TennCare, is in financial trouble and has been dumping people from its rolls to trim costs. The perception that the illegal immigrant population receives free medical care while others are cut off upsets many.

And of course, the movement of local factory jobs to Mexico and beyond is a wound that won't heal.

Clearly, the assumption in Morristown is that if you are a recent Latino arrival, you must be here illegally — and Thom Robinson is weary of it.

Legal or not, Robinson, head of the Morristown Area Chamber of Commerce, believes the immigrants are pumping up the local economy. He is convinced that much of the anger aimed at Latinos comes from bigotry, and he's got the vitriolic hate mail to back him up.

"These are not logical, thinking people," he said.

Tom Osborne thinks the overall lack of education in the region is probably an even bigger factor driving fear and resentment.

He's convinced he lost his run for a second term on the county commission because voters saw him as an advocate for the immigrant residents.

"It's the same fear of 30 years ago — just substitute brown people for black people," said Osborne, who is black.

Having ejected Lowe and Osborne from office, Hamblen County voters appear thoroughly dissatisfied with men at opposite ends of the immigration debate.

Are they tired of what they perceive as extremes, or just tired of hearing about immigration?

Local resident Melinda Cody joined the June courthouse rally with reservations about who else would attend.

"My worry was it would turn into a KKK thing. Because I don't want to be a part of that."

Cody doesn't think Appalachians are insular, or that the way they are reacting to illegal immigrants in Morristown is unique.

"People we like to call Yankees think we're stupid. We're still pretty open-minded."

Teresa Dixon was smoking furiously at the rally, unhappy with the police and the immigrants. Weeks later, sitting with her husband and 13-year-old son in their mountainside trailer home, she said it bothers her when employers say they hire illegal immigrants because the locals won't take the jobs they offer. Who worked in the chicken plant before the immigrants?

But Dixon and her husband, Mike, can still see the value of the immigrants' hard work.

"When I grew up, we killed hogs and growed a garden," Mike Dixon said. "If we didn't work, we didn't eat. You don't see that any more."

He recalled working for a pump service that hired flag men to direct traffic around its work sites.

"Three days in a row they sent white men, and they quit after a day. They sent out a Mexican, and he finished the job.

"So we're in a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation."

Teresa Dixon worries about seeing Latino men openly drinking alcohol across the street from her son's school. But she is a little embarrassed about the motivation for some of her fears.

"I can't say I'm not racial. I am, a little bit. It's what you're taught."

She seems to want her red-headed son, Ben, to be more open-minded. He goes to school with Latinos now, and she's agonizing about whether Ben should study Spanish or Latin.

"I'd like for him to be able to talk to everybody and not be prejudiced," she said. "I guess I am, a little bit."

kim.cobb@chron.com