Working as a journalist in a small town is an experience like no other.
On Wednesday, I was granted access as a member of the press to the Donald Trump rally in Erie. As one might imagine, that’s not a popular designation to have. I jokingly asked a journalist from the Pittsburgh Post Gazette if there was somewhere we could get t-shirts that said “We’re not CNN.”
Let me put the day into a bit of perspective. With Secret Service and security requirements, our day in Erie began at 10 a.m. to report in for camera inspection. At 3 p.m., we reported back to be searched for admission into the press area.
I’ve had people ask why we didn’t write about the size of the crowd outside the venue. The answer is this: I wasn’t there. Security was tight, and members of the media were escorted around the interior of the venue — even to the restroom.
This is the sitting president of the United States of America we’re talking about. The multitudes of city of Erie and state police, along with K-9 officers and Secret Service were keeping people from freely roaming and wandering around.
Don’t get me wrong; every single officer was unfailingly kind, polite, respectful, helpful and professional, even wearing flak jackets and standing outside in the hot and humid fall day. In fact, I want to acknowledge how impressed I was with them.
Streets were blocked off with huge dump trucks, police cars, police vans, barricades and police officers. Vendors were set up offering all sorts of Trump memorabilia.
Inside the event, the excitement was palpable.
I have been to my share of political events, as well as concerts, plays, programs, theater shows, etc. I even took my daughter and her friend, when they were teens, to see a boy band in Buffalo, N.Y. That level of teen excitement for their heartthrobs was as close as I can come to describing the vibe in Erie at the rally.
These were the president’s people, the self-described “deplorables.” And he worked them like a master showman.
When Trump came out on stage, I watched the crowd to see their reactions. I was surprised at how many people were crying — men, women, children.
He went to each side of the platform stage and waved to the crowd, smiling and waiting a few moments before turning to the next area and doing the same.
“Beautiful American patriots, that’s what you are,” he told the crowd.
The cheers were deafening.
The crowd was with him every step of the way. He’d mention Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi or Sen. Dianne Feinstein, and pause a moment for the crowd to “boo.”
Trump talked about the night he won the presidential election, criticizing the media for not calling the election sooner. Again, he’d pause for the “boo” from the crowd.
By no means should anyone construe this column as for or against the president; my goal here is to recount my experience as an observer.
This is the second U.S. president I have been able to cover for The Era. The first was Bill Clinton after his presidency, when he was on the campaign trail for his wife, Hillary Clinton, when she was running against Barack Obama for the Democratic nomination in 2008.
And both times, I came away with the same feeling of awe.
It had nothing to do with the man himself, and everything to do with what the man represented.
This is National Newspaper Week. And this week, this small-town newspaper reporter was able to report on the president of the United States.
I hope my high school English teacher, the late Mr. Richard Brown, is looking down on me with a smile — although I’m guessing he found a typo or two I didn’t catch.
(Schellhammer is the Era’s associate editor. She can be reached at marcie@bradfordera.com)
