Mid 1980s, when I was too young to understand, walking down the street with my granny (one of my favorite people ever) in Savannah, I asked why black people weren't walking on the sidewalk when we went by. She said they knew their place. She was a deputy sheriff at the time. She wasn't in uniform, but everybody in the neighborhood knew her.
1999, some town in rural North Carolina. When a city requested my unit to come perform, and it was approved, they were required to feed and house us. This town did a great job taking care of us, as did all of our hosts that I can remember in my 4 years. Except when we were in line for lunch after our gig, and it was a buffet where volunteers served our portions. I was served with extreme courtesy. My friend, and our enlisted leader for the trip, got his food all but thrown at him by one of the servers. Guess what the difference between us was? I was about to say something, and he quickly pulled me aside and said it wasn't worth it.