Charleroi, where Haitian immigrants were attacked by Trump, faces uncertainty following his victory: ‘I leave it to God’

Augusta “Queen” Goll, a Liberian immigrant and the owner of Queen’s Market in Charleroi, Pa., felt her excitement about President-elect Donald Trump wane when she heard him disparaging Haitian immigrants on the presidential debate stage in September. He soon after targeted Haitians in her small town — her primary clientele. As his lies continued to sting for weeks, Goll, a Republican, decided she would vote across the aisle for Vice President Kamala Harris.

But Goll, 43, changed her mind at the last minute, instead casting her ballot for the Republican nominee, a decision that lined up with the majority of Washington County voters.

» READ MORE: Immigrants were revitalizing tiny Charleroi. Then Donald Trump’s attacks brought white supremacists and conservative influencers.

“I could not do that to Trump,” she said. “I could not divert that vote to Democrat. I could not.”

Despite her loyalty to the president-elect, Goll is still bothered by his comments about Haitians.

“I’m always going to take the side of the immigrants, because I am an immigrant,” she said, adding that she hopes Trump prioritizes the economy over his hard-line immigration proposals, which she believes could just be campaign rhetoric.

“I leave it to God,” she said. “As of now, there’s nothing I can do. I know for sure there’s a higher percentage in my heart that Trump means very well for the country.”

It’s too early to say whether Trump’s promise of deporting Haitians who are currently safeguarded with Temporary Protected Status will play out. But in the meantime, Charleroi is still feeling the impacts of his remarks about its immigrant community, as well as the KKK flier and white supremacist stickers that followed. Joe Manning, the Charleroi borough manager, said the FBI is expected to participate in a Pennsylvania Human Relations event about discrimination in the town, and a Catholic Church delegation made plans to visit the community.

But in many ways, the community has simply gone quiet since Trump singled out the town in September. It felt even quieter the day after the election.

Luciano Janvier, 41, a graduate student at PennWest University, was focused on his schoolwork at home that morning.

Janvier is Haitian, and lives under the temporary protected immigration status that Trump vowed to end for Haitians. Janvier, a psychologist, said he fears Trump’s return to the White House because of such threats against Haitians but also understands why people didn’t want to vote for Harris, particularly out of concerns over the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East.

» READ MORE: Donald Trump wants to revoke Temporary Protected Status for Haitians. What would this mean for Pennsylvania?

Wearing sweatpants and a Steelers shirt, Janvier sat on his porch last Wednesday, one of few people outside.

As Janvier spoke to The Inquirer, a neighbor, Richard Burgess, 53, came out to take out his trash. The two men greeted one another. They have a neighborly relationship, they explained; Burgess helped Janvier fix a flat tire at one point despite being in the midst of a recovery from knee surgery.

“He put his knee on the ground to fix my tire,” Janvier said. “It’s a big thing for me.”

Burgess, a Trump supporter with large American flags draped on his front porch, used to work in coal mines and deliver for Amazon. Now he is on disability.

“I help him, he helps me, there ain’t have to be that fighting bullshit,” Burgess said.

Burgess, like other Trump supporters, said that he doesn’t agree with everything that Trump says, but he supports the president-elect’s policies and believes he is good for the economy.

Burgess said his street “used to be full of old white people,” and “it’s changed an awful lot.” He said the immigrants don’t bother him, but some older locals are confused, and concerned about “a lot of young men of fighting age,” citing stories they hear about the country getting “invaded.”

“People don’t know if one day they’re going to turn on you, start fighting you, the civil war type stuff,” he added.

But locals with those fears don’t talk to the immigrants or get to know them like he does, Burgess said.

“If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you,” he added.

On the rainy evening after the election, Getro Bernabe, Charleroi’s immigrant community liaison, found himself on the town’s main commercial drag at a film screening hosted by Haiti Friends, a Pittsburgh-based organization.

A handful of people, none of whom appeared to be part of the local Haitian community, walked in behind Bernabe, but most of the seats remained empty.

Bernabe, Janvier, and other local Haitian leaders have advised members of their community to keep a low profile in hopes of winding down tensions. Many people in the Haitian community remain worried about their futures in Charleroi — and in the United States as a whole. But they also say there isn’t much they can do other than watch and wait, Bernabe said.

“They kind of accept it,” he said. “It’s the result of the election … and there’s nothing they can do about it.”

Manning, the borough manager, said multiple events involving immigrants were canceled in the weeks leading up to the election, including a community street cleaning and soccer match. Immigrant families kept their children home from the town’s Halloween celebration this year, he said, a stark contrast from a celebration that immigrants put together earlier this year for July 4, which also featured a Haitian band.

“I don’t know with the outcome of the election, whether that’s going to get worse or stay the same,” Manning said about Haitians staying inside. “My guess is that given all the rhetoric leading up to the day of the election, that their fear has probably doubled, now that what’s happened has happened, and they fear that they’re going to be deported or jailed … it’s pretty strong rhetoric.”

After waking up to the news of a Trump victory, Manning said he walked through town and no one said a word to him about the results, with the exception of one person who said they’re glad the election is over with.