Leave it to me to plan a family cruise vacation on what would eventually become the biggest weekly news cycle in years, but that was my life a couple of weeks ago. I was driving my wife and four teenagers (I know, God help us) from our home in eastern Tennessee to Florida’s Port Canaveral, a twelve hour trek including meals and the obligatory Buc-ee’s pit stop (or two, because Buc-ee’s is freaking awesome), when my son told me from the back that former President Trump had been shot. Thank God he was OK, as we quickly learned, but that evening at the hotel was spent with eyes glued to Fox News and social media, wondering like everyone else who did it, why, and how on earth it was allowed to happen.
The following morning I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Sure, I was excited to board the ship and get started on our vacation, but I also felt a surprising bit of anger and with it a deep sense of resolve I hadn’t experienced before regarding Trump and his quest to regain the White House. That picture, of a bloody, brave and defiant ex-president pumping his fist to his supporters as Secret Service whisked him away from what was then still perceived as a clear and present danger, kept coming up in my mind, so much so that I grabbed my phone, opened my Twitter/X account, found it in about two seconds (because it was all over the place) and looked at it for a while.
My wife was sleeping next to me, my kids were sleeping in the adjoining room, and there I was, staring at that picture, even tearing up a little, and wondering why I was experiencing these emotions about a man I had worked for almost two years to defeat in a primary election. I wanted to write a column, but I didn’t bring my laptop. So I wrote what would quickly become one of the most viewed tweets to ever come from my account, and I meant every word. I suppose what happened to me is the very definition of “newfound respect,” and I haven’t seen things the same since.
Yes, I voted for Trump twice and strongly supported him from 2015 until this primary cycle, but even then I had always assumed that, despite his bravado persona and macho rhetoric, he was on a physical level just a weak, cowardly politician. And that’s not even meant as an insult. Most of them, the ones who haven’t served in the military anyway, probably are, right? Especially someone who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and has experienced extreme wealth his entire life.
Before that day, Trump had always been a tool to me, a politician like all the others, to use to get policies I like implemented, to criticize when they are wrong, and to discard when they become of no further use. In fairness, that’s probably a healthy way to view politicians most of the time. But that day, the bombastic ex-president I had perceived as well past his sell-by date became something more than just a mere politician, at least to me. He became a leader of a movement that’s bigger than himself, bigger than all of us, and greatly feared by the powers-that-be, so much so that killing him is entirely on the table.
Whatever he really is, whatever his faults, to them, he represents something far more significant, far more dangerous to the way the left wants to run the country. Right or wrong, correct on the issues or not, Donald Trump has become a symbol that unites the forces of evil like nothing else. We may think it’s bizarre, but their actions mean we should do the opposite. Whatever we think about Trump, they hate and fear him, and that’s as good a reason as any to do everything we can to help him cross the finish line. Will that mean things will be perfect? Not even close. We can deal with the questions, criticisms, and fallout after that depending on the results. But a Trump victory gives us a fighting chance, and that’s the best we can hope for at this point in history.
People can no longer say Trump isn’t brave because most other men would have cowered in fear in the face of what this man has endured, from wave after wave of relentless, unending lawfare to finally taking a bullet (or shrapnel, whatever) for what he stands for. Courage covers a multitude of sins. I’ll follow a guy like that, warts and all.
Our family vacation began with Trump getting shot, took place during a great GOP convention, and ended with the news of Biden dropping out of the race literally breaking while we were on our way home. Yes, despite what you might think, it just got more complicated with Biden out of the picture and Kamala Harris in, but it’s still doable. Would we do better against Harris with another GOP candidate? Maybe, maybe not. But by his courage under fire that day, the one we have has sealed himself as worthy of our support and then some. You vote for politicians, but you follow leaders into battle. For the next three months, Donald Trump will be our leader. Let’s follow and let the chips fall where they may.