The angry, divisive fallout of the Donald Trump shooting in Butler County

BUTLER, Pa. — One of the city’s most famous artists has created a 400-pound sculpture of Donald Trump raising his fist in the air, capturing the moment that split this Pennsylvania community in two. Digital billboards blaming Democrats and the media for the assassination attempt still flash around town. And supporters of Vice President Kamala Harris say they’re routinely heckled.

The long-simmering tensions in Butler that erupted after a gunman shot Trump in the ear at a rally have yet to cool two months later. The former president’s words after being hit — “fight, fight, fight” — have in some ways been adopted as the city’s motto as both sides dig in and try to ensure that their candidate wins enough votes here to capture a key battleground state.

"The statue and 'fight, fight, fight' resonates with everybody," said Bob Oesterling, a local businessman and Trump supporter. "Everyone knows you got to 'fight, fight, fight' or we are done as the United States of America."

» READ MORE: Trump supporters who were at Butler rally say they’re bonded to him and fired up for November

Trump won 65% of the vote in Butler County in 2020 and needs to win here by a large margin again to carry Pennsylvania, motivating both Republicans and Democrats to get out the vote. But in the process, divisions are withering the backbone of a community that has historically prided itself on not letting politics get in the way of relationships.

“People that come in are very afraid and very angry,” said Barbara Davidson, a manager for United Republicans of Butler County, which runs a store that sells T-shirts and trinkets depicting the moment after Trump was shot. “They are angry not only about the assassination attempt. They are angry about the direction the country is going on.”

The word fight has been graffitied on streets and utility boxes. Shortly after the shooting, a Republican county commissioner told the panel’s sole Democrat that he will “burn in hell” because he had been pressing before the rally to tally its costs to the county. Meanwhile, some Democrats say they have been threatened for showing support for Harris.

The Butler County Historical Society is collecting statements from residents of that violent July day. But the community's remarks will be sealed for 75 years, out of fear that if they are made public, people might be harassed for what they said.

» READ MORE: Why Thomas Matthew Crooks tried to assassinate Donald Trump is a mystery to investigators and his ex-classmates

Authorities have said they have not been able to determine what motivated 20-year-old Thomas Matthew Crooks to open fire from a rooftop near the rally site, killing one person, critically injuring two others, and grazing Trump’s ear. They have said his online activity showed no consistent political ideology.

Jennifer Ford, the historical society’s executive director, said Butler has seen flashes of political tension before, especially considering the community’s proximity to heavily unionized Pittsburgh. But Ford said she can’t recall another time that was “as outright frightening.”

Long before it was known as the place where Trump was shot, Butler’s biggest claim to fame was being home of the Jeep.

Located about 45 minutes north of Pittsburgh, Butler historically thrived as an agricultural and manufacturing town. The American Bantam Car Co. created the first prototype for a military Jeep here in 1940, an invention that remains a source of local pride. After decades of decline, Butler’s Main Street is now home to a vibrant mix of stores, a brewery, and a 120-year-old candy shop.

Republicans hold a 2-1 registration advantage over Democrats. But until relatively recently, politics was mostly on the back burner of people’s everyday lives. Residents say people didn’t discuss who they voted for, even with family members, and past turbulent eras of U.S. history, such as the antiwar and civil rights demonstrations in the 1960s, seemed to pass Butler by, Ford said.

» READ MORE: In sleepy Butler, Pa., emails of praise and threats are inundating city workers: ‘You failed’

Today, Butler is a community at a crossroads. The Cleveland-Cliffs Butler Works steel plant still provides 1,100 well-paying jobs. And while people here say many younger residents still move to find better paying jobs elsewhere, Butler is one of just two counties in Western Pennsylvania where the population is growing, according to 2020 to 2023 census data.

The county’s rising population has made it a must-visit community for GOP candidates. Pennsylvania is considered a critical state for Trump this election. And while he’s likely to win Butler, analysts say what really matters is how much he wins by.

Democrats believe they can narrow Trump’s win in Butler County this year. In the 2022 governor’s race, they note, Republican Doug Mastriano won with a relatively slim 55% of the vote.

“Trump really needs to maintain his margins in places like Butler to win,” said Berwood Yost, director of the Center for Opinion Research at Franklin and Marshall College.

For residents on both sides of the political divide, the shooting was a clarion call.

The Butler County Republican Party had long been marred by internal divisions, but chairman James E. Hulings said today it is more unified than it has been in years. He said the party gained 1,000 new voters over the summer. State voter registration records show Republicans have gained 2,000 new voters since December last year and now number 80,000.

“Sometimes a tragedy brings people together, and that is kind of what happened with Donald Trump,” Hulings said.

Hulings said many Butler residents who have long stayed out of politics seem enthralled by Trump’s defiance after he was shot.

Among those is Bill Secunda, 64, whose sculpture of Trump made out of 4,000 welded nails was recently displayed at the Butler Farm Show. The sculpture is meant to symbolize how Trump, from his perspective, is “tough as nails.”

People have traveled from as far as Michigan and New Jersey to see the statue since it was unveiled in August.

Heidi Marie Priest, a Democrat and local real estate agent, viewed the outpouring of support for Trump in Butler with concern. She worries about what another Trump presidency might mean for her three daughters. So when President Joe Biden dropped out of the race and Harris became the de facto nominee, she decided to do more.

Priest organized the "Butler County Women for Harris" Facebook group, which quickly swelled to more than 1,300 members. The county has about 40,000 Democrats.

“Seeing how it galvanized his base when he got shot, it just kind of scared me and I thought, ‘This isn’t good’,” Priest said. “So I have been trying to do what I can, locally, with the little influence I have.”

The group quickly became a sort of therapy for local Harris supporters who said they had been too fearful to express their political beliefs. On a recent afternoon, about 80 people gathered at a small park, sat in a circle, and shared why they are supporting Harris. Some of the women had LGBTQ or mixed-race children. Others spoke about abortion rights or the need to maintain more civility in government.

They had tried not to draw attention to themselves, but a heckler spotted the group and yelled, “Trump 2024!”

After the meeting in the park, the group flooded the local Democratic Party with new volunteers. Many said they are optimistic they can still secure an important number of votes for the vice president. Others said they were encouraged by the strong turnout, despite the often-hostile environment.

“The energy is palpable,” said the Rev. Leigh Benish, a member of the Harris Facebook group. “When everyone felt alone, you couldn’t do much. But now there is a lot more talk about how we become more visible.”

» READ MORE: Growing support for Donald Trump in majority-Latino cities like Reading could help him win Pa.

Nonetheless, Democrats here face an uphill battle. State voter registration records show the party gained just 72 new voters between December and September. And the work to get more has proven dicey.

Priest, for example, said she has received unnerving messages at her real estate office since launching the Facebook group.

“How are you this blind?” one of the callers said in a voicemail. “You are as confused as Joe Biden. You are in the wrong state. You think you are home? Nah, you are a long way from home.”

Another member of the women's group said she believes someone threw a brick at her car after she placed a Harris bumper sticker on it.

“I put it on Monday, and on Tuesday I walked out to my car and there is a brick on my windshield,” said Rhonda, 65, who asked to be referred to only by her first name, out of fear for her safety. “This is not the Butler I grew up in. … It was a peaceful town.”

Although some residents say tensions worsened after the attempt on Trump’s life, many Democrats believe neighborly goodwill began eroding in 2016, when the former president first ran for the White House.

When a Washington Post reporter pulled into the driveway of a home with a “Biden-Harris” sign on the lawn, a passing motorist screamed an expletive aimed at the president. The house is located near the farm show grounds where Trump was shot, and about 100 yards from an intersection where the word fight has been spray-painted on the road.

» READ MORE: Why Pa. voters without college degrees are souring on Democrats

Sue Legacy, the homeowner with the Biden sign, said she is used to hearing motorists hurl expletives.

“The last election was the same thing,” Legacy, 61, said. “Tensions are volatile.”

Within two hours of the shooting, John Placek began displaying a digital billboard blaming Democrats for the assassination attempt. The sign shows Trump gripping an American flag along with a target over his face. Another billboard asks, “WILL THEY TRY TO ASSASSINATE PRESIDENT TRUMP AGAIN?” A third shows Harris with red horns and states “DEMOCRATS KILL BABIES AND DREAMS.”

In an interview with the Post, the businessman and Army veteran said there was “nothing inflammatory whatsoever” about his signs. Later, however, he seemed to acknowledge that his emotions outweighed his honesty.

“I don’t really believe a Democrat did that,” said Placek, referring to the Trump shooting. “But we have emotions so that ended up on my screen, and we put it up immediately because the man I idolize, the man I want to lead the country, was almost killed.”

Some Butler residents are getting similar messages in their mailboxes.

State Rep. Aaron Bernstine (R., Beaver) sent a mailer to his constituents accusing the media and Biden administration of “all but pulling the trigger” on July 13. Bernstine defended the mailing in an interview, saying the media and Biden administration officials should not be stating Trump is a threat to democracy.

“When the left-wing media, and when [Harris] uses rhetoric like that, they are absolutely responsible for an creating an environment that basically says, ‘We want these types of people exterminated,’” said Bernstine.

Butler County Commissioner Kevin Boozel, the lone Democrat on the three-member panel, said he has been watching as political polarization spreads deeper into the county, including in local government.

Before Trump’s rally, Boozel had been pressing Republican Commissioner Leslie Osche and Butler’s sheriff to keep detailed records of how much the county was spending on Trump’s visit. Osche, who attended Trump’s rally, believed a formal contract was not needed, contending that security considerations should not be dictated by cost concerns.

According to phone messages released by Boozel, he texted Osche on the night of the shooting to check in on her and tell her the White House was offering assistance.

“How freakin dare you. We were right behind the President. You who wanted a contract. Our people did well. You will burn in hell. We don’t need their help. I will fully expose you. I hope you can’t sleep,” Osche wrote.

“So much for your professionalism,” Boozel replied.

“You don’t deserve professionalism,” Osche wrote back.

In an interview, Osche acknowledged that her response "was rather curt" but said she was traumatized by the shooting and having to usher herself and her son to safety.

“After having bullets flying over my head, the mother in me was not a happy camper,” said Osche, adding that she thinks Butler “will heal in time.”

Even as the county’s political divide deepens, many residents say they are eager to move beyond the polarization and their city’s new reputation.

At the Monroe Hotel, where generations of Butler residents have grabbed beers or prime rib dinners, several patrons said they are trying to avoid political discussions.

“I just want to go back to being the town where the Jeep was invented,” said David Walker, 42, a political independent.

Ford, the executive director of the Butler County Historical Society, said it will take time for Butler to heal because there is no precedent in the county’s history for what it has lived through over the last two months.

“Unfortunately, it will go down in history as the most notable event that ever took place in Butler,” said Ford, adding the assassination attempt also represented a “shattering of the belief that Butler was safe.”

But while residents lament the current state of affairs, some are pushing back in a different way than the pledge to “fight, fight, fight.”

Someone recently crossed the word fight out from where it had been spray-painted in white onto the middle of an intersection.

They then wrote a new word in red: Love.