My hometown, Durham, Connecticut, enjoys regional fame as host to the largest agricultural fair in the state and the largest all-volunteer fair in North America. Since 1916, locals have gathered on the last weekend of September for old-fashioned livestock shows, jam-tasting, crafts, tractor pulls, carnival rides, and greasy food. Picture a Midwestern state fair, downsize it, and add some clam chowder, apple crisp, and New England charm.

In anticipation of this autumn’s fair, things got a bit controversial. In an effort to attract more families with young children, the Fair Association scheduled a live elephant show, humorously titled “Elephant Encounters.” After learning of the updated exhibition roster, a student at my old high school, concerned about the elephants’ treatment and wary that such a show had little to do with agricultural, circulated a petition to cancel the elephants.

The petition attracted a reasonable level of town attention and sparked quite a bit of discussion. While back home this summer I was amused but also heartened to hear people stopping each other to swap opinions “on the elephants.” Even the most passionate spokespeople on either side remained remarkably civil—mostly expressing their views in letters to our local weekly, The Town Times.

Eventually, the teen who initiated the petition offered a prepared presentation before the Fair Association. Members listened respectfully and then, in a 59-12 vote, opted to keep the elephants and issued the following statement:

Animal exhibition has always been, and will always remain, an integral part of our agricultural heritage and a focal point of our Fair. The Durham Fair believes the Elephant Encounters presentation has the potential to foster greater public understanding of, and appreciation for, elephants.

Admittedly, I found all the elephant talk entertaining and more than a little silly. However, the debate and decision-making process was also quaintly indicative of small town life at its best. Both sides pursued local, dare I say Tocquevilleian institutions—ie. a petition, town meetings, the local newspaper—to express their opinions. No one phoned the Feds or demanded a state intervention for or against the elephants. There remained total confidence that we could address this decidedly local matter as a small and engaged community. Moreover, the discussion likely remained so polite because this was a conversation between neighbors.

May the 2013 Durham Fair be an enjoyable one.