Dear Trump Supporter in the Baggage claim area. 

I know you are a Trump Supporter because you have a shirt on that says Trump 2016. 

You are an overweight white man…in your 50’s I’m guessin’. You wear a baseball cap backwards on your head, a pair of shiny athletic shorts, socks and a pair of work boots.  

I saw you earlier on the plane and as I passed you, I wrote the story of you on the way to my seat. 

The story I read everyday in the news…white, southern, probably racist, uneducated, angry and lower income. 

I’m not proud of myself for that. I am a person who loves…wants more than anything to see past the stories…to the human underneath. 

So damn it…we are in baggage claim and I see you with her. 

Your daughter. 

Your daughter in her wheelchair. She is in her teens. A person with Downs Syndrome…and I watch you get down on one knee and ever so tenderly offer the slice of apple you have pulled from a Disney Princess lunchbox. Hand it to her. Smile as she eats it. 

You hand her another. 

Smile again. 

You offer the water bottle. 

She drinks. 

You are patient. Oh so patient. 

“Anything else honey?” you ask. 

She shakes her head. 

I watch you smile. I watch her smile. 

And for this moment I see you.

Damn the media. Damn these stories. 

Damn it all.