Mississippi Burning Page #2

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You're welcome.

(pounding on door)

- Come on, boy.

- Open up.

- Your brother Hollis here, Fennis?

- Yes, sir.

Well, wake his ass up. We wanna see him.

- Why?

- Just wake him up, boy.

- What is it?

- There you are, n*gger trash!

Come here, boy!

Hollis! Hollis!

Get your ass back here,

you f***in' n*gger!

Hollis! Hollis!

We better not catch you talkin' to the FBl.

Or you'll be dead, boy. Real dead.

You admire these kids, don't you?

Don't you?

I think they're bein' used.

They're sent here in their

Volkswagens and sneakers...

..just to get their heads cracked open.

Did it ever occur to you that maybe

they believed in what they were doing?

- Did it occur to them they'd end up dead?

- Maybe.

In Washington they sure as hell knew,

didn't they?

Some things are worth dying for.

Well, down here

they see things a little differently.

People down here feel

some things are worth killin' for.

Where does it come from, all this hatred?

You know, when I was a little boy,...

..there was an old Negro farmer lived

down the road from us, name of Monroe.

And he was... Well, I guess he was just

a little luckier than my daddy was.

He bought himself a mule.

That was a big deal around that town.

My daddy hated that mule.

His friends kidded him that they saw

Monroe ploughin' with his new mule...

..and Monroe was gonna rent

another field now that he had a mule.

One morning that mule

just showed up dead.

They poisoned the water.

After that there was never any mention

about that mule around my daddy.

One time we were drivin' past

Monroe's place and we saw it was empty.

He'd just packed up and left, I guess.

Gone up North or somethin'.

I looked over at my daddy's face...

..and I knew he'd done it.

And he saw that I knew.

He was ashamed.

I guess he was ashamed.

He looked at me and he said...

.."If you ain't better than a n*gger,

son, who are you better than?"

Do you think that's an excuse?

No, it's not an excuse.

It's just a story about my daddy.

Where does that leave you?

With an old man who was so full of hate...

..that he didn't know that

bein' poor was what was killin' him.

Get the light! Get the light!

You all right?

I guess they know we're here.

(car engine starts)

(car drives offat speed)

Now you know what you're gettin' into.

I'm gonna call Washington.

I need more agents.

Would it change your mind if I say

that's exactly the wrong thing to do?

No.

The whole place for 75 a month.

It's private. It's central. It's perfect.

There's room for a hundred more agents.

Two hundred, maybe.

More in the balcony.

We're just trying to find the three boys,

Mr Anderson.

I'll take all the help I can get.

When's the show start?

- Who's the big shot?

- It's the Klan.

No pointy hats but plenty of pointy heads.

Let me run a check on the plates.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Anderson.

Say hello to our mayor, Mr Tilman here.

- How do you do, Anderson?

- Mr Mayor. Mr Barber.

Well, this looks like the place to be.

Even for me.

Yep. Nothin' like a barbershop

for jawin' your socks off.

Where you from, Anderson?

Thornton, Mississippi, sir.

Just a spit from Tennessee.

Well, then you must know

how we all feel down here.

We don't take to outsiders

tellin' us how to live our lives.

And I'm here to tell ya,

our nigras were happy...

..till those beatnik college kids

came down here stirrin' things up.

Before that, there wasn't

anybody complainin'.

Nobody dared.

We got a real peaceful

community down here, Anderson.

Course, they're just like any other folks,

I reckon, when you push 'em too far.

The way I figure it,

it's like three sticks of old dynamite.

You shake it up... and we're gonna

be scrapin' bodies off the street.

I'm just here to investigate the missing

three kids, ask some questions.

If this all boiled down to gravy,...

..there wouldn't be enough

to cover a chicken-fried steak.

Them kids you're lookin' for? I'd bet you a

shiny new dime they're in Chicago now...

..drinkin' a cold beer and havin' a laugh

about the commotion they stirred up here.

Well, I sure hope so.

You can tell your bosses people got

the wrong idea about the South.

You know what I'm talkin' about.

Everybody runnin' around ragged,

backwards and illiterate,...

..eatin' sowbelly and corn pone

three times a day.

Simple fact is, Anderson,

we got two cultures down here.

White culture and a coloured culture.

That's the way it always has been.

That's the way it always will be.

- The rest of America don't see it that way.

- The rest of America don't mean jack sh*t.

You in Mississippi now.

Oh, that's for sure!

(baseball on radio)

- What's the score, Mr Barber?

- St Louis on top, five to nothing.

- What inning is it?

- Bottom of the seventh.

- You like baseball, Anderson?

- Yeah, I do. You know,...

..it's the only time when a black man

can wave a stick at a white man...

..and not start a riot.

Sir.

We checked on the plate, sir.

Clayton Townley.

Townley. Grand Wizard of

the White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan.

That's him. And we have a lead on the car.

A Choctaw on the reservation

thinks he knows where it is.

Good.

(woman)

You have an appointment next Tuesday?

I'll see you then. Bye-bye.

Afternoon, ladies.

- Can I help you?

- Well, yes, you can.

I tell you, I just...

I hate the way I look. You know?

What do you think? A permanent wave,

maybe? Or a bleach job?

- That looks good. Was it done in here?

- No. Jackson.

A wig's your only hope, hon. You won't

be able to do much with that cue ball.

If you wanna ask us some questions,

this is where you'll hear it all.

Yeah, matter of fact, I do.

I was wonderin' who that gentleman was

that just drove in over there.

- I know that isn't President Johnson.

- His name's Townley. Clayton Townley.

- Are you one of them FBI gentlemen?

- Yes, ma'am, I am.

Well, I think it's a shame if those two kids

are dead. But I sure hope you find 'em.

Thank you. Actually, three kids are

missin'. There's a coloured kid also.

Do you think your people'd be down here

if it weren't for those two white boys?

- Maybe not, miss.

- Mrs.

Pell. Her old man's Ray Stuckey's deputy.

But I'm single.

Move out of the way.

Move over, boy.

We'll take care of this. It's a local problem.

We'll handle this.

We don't need your damn help.

It ain't right havin' blood on Main Street.

How'd that look on the TV news?

- Get up.

- OK, I got him. I got him.

He's the kid from the diner.

Think twice before you talk to

coloured kids with an audience.

They're sending a message from

the boss in Tupelo, and you know it.

I know it, yes. Clayton Townley,

chief pointy head.

Yeah, that's right. How did you know?

Bureau procedure, Mr Ward.

Try it sometime.

We did.

We found the car the kids were driving.

(dog barks)

Good morning.

Good morning.

Two beer cans, a Coca-Cola bottle,

a green plastic bottle,...

..a badly burned wristwatch stopped

at 12.45, and a set of keys. No bodies.

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