"The Mayberry thing still comes up from time to time," shrugs Bone, whose close-cropped hair, polished jump boots and erect posture give him a decidedly military bearing. "It used to bother me. It doesn't anymore."
Indeed, there are times Bone wishes his job did more closely resemble that of his fictional counterpart, where the most intractable problem he faced each week was an amiable town drunk who could be trusted to let himself in and out of jail.
In your dreams.
In the foyer of the modest town hall where Bone's cramped office is located sits a glass display cabinet containing items that have been confiscated over the years by Cornersville police.
Among the items on display are a meat cleaver, a set of brass knuckles, switchblade knives, razor blades, and an assortment of drug paraphernalia ranging from rolling papers to syringes to crack-cocaine pipes.
Mayberry never had to contend with any of that.
See Wednesday's Tribune for the complete story.