At the Trump rally, it was evening sun, songs and blue sky. Then came bullets, screams and blood
On a sultry weekend evening, under a clear blue sky, supporters of Donald Trump wearing red “Make America Great Again” hats filled the fairgrounds in Butler, Pennsylvania.
It was a friendly and festive setting for the former and perhaps future president’s final rally before the Republican National Convention the following week. He won Butler County, just north of Pittsburgh in the crucial swing state, by about 2-to-1 in both 2016 and 2020.
“God Bless the USA” blared over a loudspeaker — “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free” — as Trump arrived, wearing his own red MAGA hat. He stood before a row of gold-trimmed American flags. He waved, clapped and pointed to his fans, their cellphones raised to record him. White tents towered over the red-white-and-blue striped bleachers. A green combine harvester sat on the sidelines of the rally.
For retired emergency room physician James Sweetland, it felt like “an old-time rock concert.” As they waited for Trump’s appearance, Sweetland helped a fellow patron who was struggling in the heat of the day. He advised her to lie down and gave her water until emergency responders arrived. At that moment, he said, it felt like the worst thing that could happen.
Joleen Monteleone, 57, of Butler, sat in the stands behind Trump, wearing a “Trump 2024” denim vest her husband had made. Kristen Petrarca, 60, was also there. “I had never been to a rally before,” she said, “and I just wanted to experience it.”
The former president climbed three steps to the podium, drawing applause and chants of “USA!” before issuing a familiar litany of grievances against the news media, President Joe Biden and immigrants living in the country illegally. He repeated his false claims that the 2020 election was rigged against him.
He pointed to a large video screen showing border crossing statistics. Sweetland sat at the foot of the screen and felt like Trump was looking right at him.
In the seconds that followed chaos ensued.
Less than 200 yards away, another scene was unfolding, unbeknownst to Sweetland or Trump.
Some rally goers had saw a man climbing on the roof from a nearby building. A local police officer climbed up to chase the man but went back down when the man pointed his gun at the officer, two law enforcement officials told The Associated Press on condition of anonymity so they could discuss an ongoing investigation.
Then: shots. Confusion. Disorder.
Trump grabbed his right ear. He ducked. A group of Secret Service agents in dark suits piled on top of him, ready to take a bullet. More shots.
“Get down!” some protesters shouted, while others ducked down. Still others tried to keep their cell phone cameras trained on the chaos on stage.
“Everyone was screaming and trying to hide in the stands,” Petrarca recalled. “And I was literally pushed down, in the stands, where your feet would be.”
Trump’s microphone picked up the Secret Service agents’ urgent conversation.
“I got you, sir! I got you!”
“The shooter is down.”
“We are clear, we are clear.”
“Let’s move on!”
The officers helped him up, his hat falling off his head and his hair in disarray. They continued to surround him. As they were about to lead him off the stage, Trump paused. He reached for his shoes. Then he paused again.
“Wait!” he shouted. “Wait, wait, wait.”
Of blood covers his ear and, stroking his face in two streams that converged on his tightly pressed lips, he looked past the officers into the stunned but adoring crowd — and clenched his fist. Even in the midst of the shocking attempt on his lifethe former reality star’s instincts for showmanship and symbolism did not fail him.
“Fight!” he muttered. “Fight! Fight!”
The officers pushed him into a black SUV, and his supporters around him erupted in chants.
“United States! United States!”
The Secret Service said its snipers killed the gunman after the attempted assassination. But even now, two days later, the attacker’s motives and actions in the hours before the shooting remain unknown. are unclear.
His name was Thomas Matthew Crooks, 20, a nursing home worker in the suburbs south of Pittsburgh. He was armed with an AR-15 that his father had purchased.
Crooks did not kill Donald Trump. But in those moments, another life was lost.
Corey Comperatore, a 50-year-old former fire chief who served for decades with the Buffalo Township volunteer fire department, was sitting in a section of the bleachers just to Trump’s right. When shots rang out, he dove to shield his wife and daughter. One bullet hit him in the head.
When Sweetland, the retired ER doctor, heard a nearby cry for help, his muscle memory kicked in. He rushed to the badly wounded Comperatore and performed CPR as blood seeped from a hole above the man’s right ear. Two minutes into his attempt, state troopers tapped him on the shoulder, took over, then lifted Comperatore “like a rag doll” and carried him away on a stretcher.
“I looked up and saw what I thought was his wife and daughter, and the look on their faces was something I’ll never forget,” said Sweetland, who is from a town called DuBois about 90 minutes away. “The look on their faces, they were shocked, they were sad. And the look on everybody’s face in this situation is, ‘Is he going to be OK?’
“And all I could say was, ‘They’re taking him to a place where he can get help.’”
Rico Elmore, vice chairman of the Republican Party in neighboring Beaver County, also heard the cries for help. He removed his tie and ran over a barricade to the wounded man, holding his head with a towel.
Later, in an interview with The Associated Press, Elmore put on a red T-shirt over his white shirt, which was stained with the victim’s blood. “It was horrific,” Elmore said. “I pray to the family that had to deal with this and that is going through this now. Because it’s hard. It’s so hard.”
At least two other people were injured: David Dutch, 57, of New Kensington, Pennsylvania, and James Copenhaver, 74, of Moon Township, Pennsylvania, both towns outside Pittsburgh. Both men were listed in stable condition Sunday.
Monteleone, who wore the “Trump 2024” denim vest made by her husband, said the ordeal and Trump’s fist pumps only made her “more MAGA and more pro-America than ever.”
“We were not afraid. We were angry,” Monteleone said. “And we will not surrender. We will vote for him. We will support him. He is a strong leader, and that is what America needs.”
As Trump was being led away, many rally attendees turned their anger on the journalists covering the rally, shouting obscenities and flipping off the middle finger. “Are you happy?” some shouted.
And Sweetland? A day after the shooting, his shock had turned to anger.
“I hope and pray that everyone will step back, take a deep breath, lower their temperature and stop all the vitriolic comments that are being made,” he said. “This is not the United States that I know and love, and I love this country dearly.”
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Associated Press reporters Carolyn Thompson, Stefanie Dazio, Colleen Long and Brian Slodysko contributed to this report.