“What our opponents have never understood is that our movement has never been about me,” the 45th president told his supporters. “It’s been about you.”
For me, getting to President Donald Trump's return rally in Butler, Pennsylvania involved driving through rolling hills with scattered patches of red and orange leaves and low-hanging fog that dissipated as the sun reached its full morning strength. The route to Butler was scattered with signs to places like Coal Country Brewing and Iron Works Beer. It was beautiful and it was, undoubtedly, Trump Country.
An astonishing crowd of his supporters was there to greet the Republican nominee. Newsweek reports 24,000 people attended but it look like a lot more to me.
One electronic billboard at the corner of a four-way intersection on US Route 422 had a rotating collection of signs supporting President Donald Trump and slamming Vice President Kamala Harris.
"Harris' Failures," read one display. Underneath were examples of increased consumer prices with red upward arrows taking the place of bullet points. "Food 1.2%... Gasoline 45%... Electric 29.3%."
Another display showed Trump hugging the American flag.
"Your VOTE is your VOICE," it announced to passing drivers.
"God is in control," read a third, with an image of Jesus Christ in front of a blue sky. "Not the government."
Approaching the Butler Farm Show was not unlike approaching a music festival or county fair. Local businesses and residents had converted their land and driveways into temporary cash parking lots. Tents with Trump merchandise were scattered along the footpath.
Some attendees lined up inside the metal stanchions before the entrance held their middle fingers up to a news camera as it recorded them in line. Another set of people held out a bucket to ask for donations on behalf of Americans impacted by Hurricane Helene.
"What does FEMA stand for?" shouted one woman.
"Forgetting everyday middle Americans!" her counterpart called back.
Rallygoers sported an array of slogans on their t-shirts. Not only was there the expected "Make American Great Again" and "Trump Vance" apparel, but shirts reading "Teamsters for Trump," "Cats for Trump," "Bikers for Trump," "In Glock We Trust" and—maybe the best of the day—"Let Me Get My Shoes." The last a reference to Trump's departing the stage on July 13, face streaked with blood after narrowly dodging death at the hands of a would-be assassin,, his shoes left momentarily behind.
There were easily 25 different versions of the iconic image of Trump raising his fist to the crowd, the American flag behind, that has become seared into all our memories, from that last ill-fated Butler appearance, moments after he was struck by a bullet.
"We can't stop until this nightmare is over," read one olive green shirt worn by a woman in her 50s or 60s.
More than anything, the number of people dressed in black was the most glaring change from Trump events I have attended in years past.
While there was the normal flood of red "Make America Great Again" hats and a respectable smattering of patriotic blues and whites, black has clearly been adopted as the new unofficial color of the movement.
X CEO and Tesla founder Elon Musk joined the 45th president on stage at the rally sporting a black version of the signature cap.
"I'm dark MAGA," Musk announced to the crowd.
Fearful Business Insider has described the "Dark MAGA" movement as a "fringe online movement rooted in the radical pro-Trump online space."
"Dark MAGA capitalizes on Trump supporters' resentment over various perceived injustices," the outlet declared on Instagram over two years ago.
Standing among the swirling crowd, the presence of the black shirts did not evoke the image of laser-eyed Trump memes but of plague doctors in their black masks on the streets of Europe during a time of crisis. The choice to wear black seemed to underscore the severity with which Trump supporters now view the nation's economic pressures and disintegrating shared culture.
I found myself thinking of the lyrics to My Chemical Romance's "Black Parade."
"When I was a young boy / My father took me into the city / To see a marching band/ He said, "Son, when you grow up / Would you be the savior of the broken / The beaten and the damned?" / He said, "Will you defeat them? / Your demons, and all the non-believers / The plans that they have made?"
With resolve, tens of thousands of people had traveled to Butler not out of spite or resentment but because they are this nation's beaten, broken and damned and they wanted to see the return of Trump who—12 weeks earlier—had defeated at least one man's plan. In September, he was the target of a second would-be assassin, and that's man's plan was equally as unsuccessful.
"What our opponents have never understood is that our movement has never been about me. It's been about you," Trump told the crowd while on stage as the sun began its descent that night. "Your hopes are my hopes. Your future is what I'm fighting for."
Libby’s Desk
Commentary and must-reads from Libby’s desk, straight to your inbox.
TPM Newsletter
The Post Millennial’s top stories, delivered to your inbox.
The future and the threats facing broad success were the second most prominent theme of the day—only shadowed at times by tribute to Corey Comperatore, the firefighter who died while shielding his family from gunfire on July 13. Trump and the other speakers reflected on the burden of mass illegal immigration, the need to preserve American values during difficult times, and Vice President Kamala Harris's close ties to President Biden's administration.
"Donald Trump took a bullet for democracy," said Ohio Senator J.D. Vance, the Republican vice presidential nominee, while reflecting on Harris's statements on the campaign tail. "What the hell have you done?"
I think Trump set the tone for Saturday's rally when he called "Fight! Fight! Fight!" to the crowd on July 13 before being hustled off stage by the Secret Service. The addition of black to the crowd's color scheme did not imply defeat but rather resolve. A couple from the Pittsburgh area told me very calmly they had been at the fateful summer rally.
"Were you concerned about coming back?" I asked.
"No. Not at all," the husband told me, almost surprised by the question. Trump supporters do not scare easily.
Hannah-Claire Brimelow is the co-host of Timcast IRL.
