The Magic Power of MAGA

A few weeks ago, I decided I would wear a red MAGA hat everywhere.

First, it was the TSA officer waiting on the other side of the magnetometer. 

He saw my hat. 

Then he clenched his fist, held it surreptitiously in front of his chest, locked eyes with me, and then mouthed the words “Fight, fight, FIGHT!” And so began the demonstration of the catalytic power of MAGA. 

A few weeks ago, although I usually dress formally even when traveling, I decided I would wear a red MAGA hat everywhere. Even when flying through Chicago’s O’Hare airport! 

I was coming back from opening for President Trump at his Milwaukee Rally on Friday. 

I have worked for and supported the 45th President of the United States since we first met in his office at Trump Tower in the Summer of 2015. But I had never taken the podium for him at one of his rallies. And it was quite the experience. 

Despite having briefed the Commandant of the Marine Corps, the CIA, SEAL Team Six, and hundreds of Green Berets over my career, I was actually nervous. In part because the organizers had given me just 3 minutes to make my remarks! This for a guy who speaks for 3 hours a day on the radio! You can see my speech here. 

But just as much of an experience was what happened as I wore my iconic red MAGA hat through Chicago’s airport and on my flight back to the Swamp. 

First it was the TSA officer, to whom I said “Dziękuję” when I saw his unmistakably Polish name on his name-tag. To which his responded in kind, in a distinct Polish accent. Another legal immigrant to the greatest nation on God’s green Earth.  

And that was just the beginning.

As I was looking for something to eat, a man my age stared at me as I walked by. When I turned back in his direction, still on the prowl for one of O’Hare’s famous hot dogs, he came up to me with the usual: “Are you...?” 

We started chatting. He was an Army father on his way from Washington State to meet his son in New York, separating from the Army after 4 years and multiple deployments. “We have to save the country!” was his his refrain as we snapped a selfie and I continued on my culinary search. 

Next, 3 cadets with digicam backpacks saw my hat and gave me an approving whistle. Next, a wonderful lady from up-state New York, a poll-worker, stopped for a lengthy chat and another selfie. “We have to save America for our children and grandchildren!” 

Perhaps the most shocking of all, given the inordinate number of interactions catalyzed by my hat, as I’m walking down the main thoroughfare of O’Hare, I passed one of the many bars, and a pretty blonde lady in her thirties shouts out from her barstool facing the walkway: “Go Trump!” This in Chicago! Just don’t tell Jussie Smollet.  

By now, it was time to head to my gate on the long flat escalator under the runway. A handsome, older pilot clocks my headgear and mouths “Nice hat!,” as we pass each other heading in opposite directions. Behind him, a young mother with a toddler in a snuggly does the same, and then came the first cultist. A lanky hippy-type with long hair flowing out of his stoner beanie sees my silent MAGA statement, contorts his face, and hisses like a possessed figure for a horror movie. 

I have several more wonderful experiences catalyzed by the red hat bearing a message all Americans should be able to agree with, but I loved the fact that once seated on the plane, in my usual aisle seat, a beautiful little girl boards looking like a modern Shirley Temple with her mother, who’s traveling alone with her cherub. “Nice hat,” she says to me. 

To quote Blessed Saint John Paul: “Be not afraid!” The power of one can make others swell with courage.

If you haven’t voted, go NOW! And take at least one friend with you to vote. As all of my new friends understand: we have a Republic to save, and it’s up to us.