How the mighty have fallen. I was reduced to covering the Trump Train with no president in sight (not that he would have come to Missouri—unnecessary—even if he hadn't been in hospital) for no publication but me. But it's tough to break the habit of wanting to cover the news, and this was big news in Southern Missouri.
I was disappointed in myself as a photographer and reporter: I did not get close enough. There was only one other guy in the hundred or so vehicles wearing a mask, and i feared Republican cooties. I am not as brave as I was when I was younger, and even then I was never much of a street reporter. So I remembered how to stake out vantage points, but I didn't go up and talk to people. I wasn't afraid—I was camoflaged in camo, right down to a camo mask—and the people weren't scary. They were just normal, flag-waving, misguided Americans. A few kids and teenagers, but mostly older. I only saw one Confederate flag and one very offensive sign. But alas. I can't wait for this to be over, if it ever is.
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