I guess none of us should be surprised.
Protesters angry at the result of the 2016 presidential election hit the streets to march, chantĀ and display signs.
Then it turned violent. My attention tonight is turning to my hometown of Portland, Ore., where the police and the mayor are blaming the violent turn on those who have “infiltrated” the city, criminals who are inciting the violence and damage.
I am horrified, mortified and embarrassed by what is occurring in the city of my birth and where I spent the first 34 years of my life.
I get that many Americans didn’t want Donald J. Trump elected president of the United States. Count me as one who is unhappy with the result.
But for crying out loud, man, why in the world does that unhappiness have to turn to destruction of property and personal bodily injury?
As I’ve noted before on this blog, marching in the streets ain’t my style. It’s not how I roll. I prefer to register my protest using this venue; I’ll sit at my desk at home, fire up my computer and gripe until I run out of strength in my fingers.
This idea of marchers turning destructive and violent, though, is inconsistent with so-called American values. Indeed, when one thinks of my hometown, one thinks usually of coffee shops, craft beer, the world’s largest used-bookstore, a bustling downtown district, Mount Hood, a lovely riverfront and tall timber.
One shouldn’t think of Portland — or any city in America — as a place prone to violent protest over a free and fair election.