Yes, I’d seen the memes of the Anti-Trump No Kings Day scheduled for 19 April, and I dutifully shared them on social media. Even so, this protest at a nearby GOP congressman’s office wasn’t a top priority – at least not for me – like the mass demonstrations on 5 April. That was do or die. I’d have gone with shattered kneecaps, two broken arms, and an abscessed tooth.
If I’m being honest, the idea of another protest so soon after the last one – and on the Saturday before Easter Sunday, no less – felt like a mistake in many ways. I was afraid of protest burnout. If the turnout for this demonstration was low, it would give right-wing pundits and MAGA something to crow about: What, George Soros didn’t pay them enough? Maybe their commitment to protecting democracy wasn’t that great when it came to Easter egg hunts. All talk, no action.
I realized that MAGAs would howl no matter what, but why give them more reason to? It was a holiday weekend. I’m usually the one running from one store to the next, and then doing all the cooking and baking. I was juggling enough. Would it be a mortal sin to put my gripes on hold for one day?
To go or not to go
My husband and I discussed it at length, and my reluctant warrior felt the same way. We had made a huge statement on 5 April; wasn’t that enough for now? However, we were still on the fence. We tossed it back and forth all week like a finals match at the US Open.
Then I got an email with an upsetting update from the local protest organizers. A notorious and loud MAGA group in our area was planning to counter-protest. The police were aware and would take all necessary precautions to ensure our safety. But it still didn’t sound like a pleasant prospect; who knew what those MAGA faithful might try to do?
Initially, I was alarmed. If we attended the rally, would we be walking into a MAGA trap? What if MAGA outnumbered us and it turned ugly? Or violent? But my fear and trepidation were quickly replaced with anger and grit. Did these fools think they were going to scare us into submission? Hell, no!
We had every right to protest, whether it was a holiday weekend or not. If MAGA was going, so would we, by golly. Hubby was equally incensed and determined. We got our signs ready. I advised our oldest daughter to be prepared to bail us out if we got arrested. Me, who’d never gotten a parking ticket. Well, the FBI did show up once on our door, but that’s another story…
Unlike 5 April, which was cold and rainy, 19 April was a gorgeous, warm spring day. We arrived early to make sure we could park close to the rally on account of my arthritic knee. It’s a great weather barometer, but not so great for standing for long periods.
Others had the same notion. My fears of a low turnout were soon dispelled. At its height, the police estimated 3,000 to 4,000, beating the estimates of the Hands Off rally. We were five deep on the sidewalk, the line of protestors running the length of the street on both sides and around corners. The atmosphere was jovial and peaceful, united in one purpose: to express our dismay at Mad King Donald.
MAGA almost no-show
Now you might be wondering, and rightly so, about the MAGA counter protest.
It was a bust!
At first, there was one DOGE/Trump pickup truck on a side street flying a few obnoxious flags. We paid them scant attention as we were too busy waving signs and shouting slogans. They eyed us warily. They knew they were badly outnumbered.
Then suddenly, a pathetic Trump “convoy” arrived: a total of three vehicles containing, at most, six or seven people. We hooted and howled at them; a woman riding in one of the trucks – a huge black, crew-cab, dual-wheeled, fender-flanged, MAGA-festooned monstrosity – laughed while filming us with her iPhone, as if we were chimpanzees at the zoo. The truck was fitted with airhorns, and occasionally they blasted us with an ear-splitting sonic fusillade.
After they had come around twice, the police blocked them from returning, and that was the end of their sad little display. We left the protest invigorated, happy that we had gone and done our best, and also gratified that the counter-protesters’ attempt at disruption had been so meager and ineffective.
A tale of two protests
Someone in the crowd mentioned that our local newspaper was covering the event and I thought, “Great!” From social media, I learned that over 4 million people around the country came out to protest. Not bad for a holiday weekend.
The next morning, I eagerly opened my Sunday newspaper, excited to read the write-up of our demonstration.
The reporter must have been at a different rally. In his version, we were only 500 protestors. Five hundred? In what freaking universe? Unbelievable. Hubby was incredulous. People were still streaming in to protest when we left.
Worse, the protesters themselves didn’t even rate a photo. The only picture the newspaper ran was of one woman waving her placard in front of a pro-Trump car. The car itself completely obscured the protesters behind it. There was no way to tell how large the crowd was because from the perspective of the photo there was no crowd.
There wasn’t even a mention of the coordinated protests nationwide. As for our MAGA congressman, he did not deign to appear or even comment. Almost as if we were invisible.
What journalistic decisions were made in writing and editing this story? Did the reporter come back with something reasonably accurate that the news editor found unsatisfactory because it didn’t fit a preordained narrative that these protests were just a passing event, like a house fire or a robbery? Or was there a directive from above to downplay the significance in favor of the newspaper’s alleged political bias?
The real story and the reported version were two different things. And while it’s true the digital version of the article was later updated with more photos, the damage was done, the narrative set. Anyone reading this article would think it was a puny protest of no consequence. We beg to differ.
A tale of two different protests: Which version would you believe?
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