Waiting for Trump: Hats, Flags, Little Fear of the Virus

Public health experts issued dire warnings. Local officials expressed unease. The coronavirus cases continued to climb.

And still, they came.

President Trump’s most faithful supporters piled into tents or lounged in lawn chairs, some wearing masks, and others dismissing the need for face coverings, as they waited hours and, in some cases, days to join in his return to the campaign trail. By early Saturday morning, the line of voters camped out for Mr. Trump’s evening rally extended multiple blocks, with attendees eager to fill the 19,000-seat BOK Center, defying public health recommendations.

Despite the adoring fans willing to risk illness to see him in this deep red state, Mr. Trump arrives in Tulsa at a moment of political peril. His poll numbers nationally and in critical battleground states have plummeted, he faces the disapproval of his stewardship of the coronavirus and outrage over his posture toward peaceful protesters of police brutality, and he has struggled to press a clear case against Joseph R. Biden Jr., his Democratic opponent.

The rally itself had produced chaotic several days in Tulsa, coming on the weekend of the Juneteenth holiday, which celebrates the end of slavery in the United States. Mr. Trump’s discordant stance toward the holiday — he originally was unaware of it, then later took credit for making it “very famous’’ — and his divisive rhetoric about Americans protesting against racial injustice had added to the fraught nature of the weekend in a city with a painful history for black residents.

His supporters waited for the rally around a mile from Greenwood Avenue, which in 1921 was the site of one of America’s worst racist massacres. Black Tulsans had gathered there on Friday to commemorate Juneteenth and many had denounced police brutality. A number of Trump backers, while expressing support for peaceful protesters, also argued that if the nation countenanced demonstrators congregating in large crowds, then they should be free to participate in the president’s rally without criticism — though public health experts have said that large indoor gatherings are more dangerous than outdoor events.

The scene here on the sidewalks near the arena offered a vivid illustration of the president’s power over the Republican base even when he is at his most vulnerable.

Trump rallygoers on Friday and early Saturday lined up wearing Trump hats and carrying flags — Trump flags, American flags, flags bearing images of Mr. Trump kissing an American flag. A “four more years” chant broke out before 7 a.m. For blocks, the scene was more reminiscent of a sports tailgate than a political rally, as music and beer flowed between supporters, some of whom had traveled hundreds of miles.

In interviews, some of them described the coronavirus crisis that has killed nearly 120,000 Americans as overblown. The death toll, they argued, was exaggerated or manipulated — a view experts say is inaccurate. For many supporters who crowded the sidewalks here, the coronavirus seemed like just one more risk to mitigate, as with anything else in life — but no reason to skip seeing the president, who carried Oklahoma by about 36 percentage points in 2016.

“This is a chance of a lifetime,” said Sue Williams, 72, of Tulsa. Ms. Williams, who was not wearing a mask, is in an age demographic that is especially vulnerable to the coronavirus crisis. But she said she had no concerns. “I’ve been praying. I’m in good health. When they have the rally, I’ll wear a mask.”

In interviews, attendees said they viewed the president as a strong leader on the economy, despite millions being out of work during the pandemic. They still appreciated his disdain for political correctness. Some saw Mr. Trump as a champion of traditional Christian values they believed were under assault, though he is not known to personally be religious.

Mr. Trump drew widespread criticism when his administration ordered aggressive police action to clear peaceful protesters in order to be photographed holding a Bible, but to some, the image appeared to a breakthrough in a positive way. “I’ve seen him on TV praying, I’ve seen him on TV with a Bible in his hand,” Ms. Williams said.

Others suggested that Washington and the news media had never given him a fair shake, nearly four years into his presidency.

“He’s done great things,” said Jill Strother, 56, from Edmond, Okla., who waited for Mr. Trump with her teenage son, who brought a mask. “He just hasn’t had a chance. He’s had to spend most of his time defending himself from, I guess, fake news.”

Amid a dueling desire to reopen the economy while maintaining safety, there are sharp partisan differences over how concerned voters are about the virus spreading: 70 percent of Democrats said they were very concerned in a recent Fox News poll, while only 35 percent of Republicans said the same, though people who wear face masks were viewed favorably by 68 percent of Republicans and 89 percent of Democrats.

In an interview on Thursday, State Representative James White, Republican of Texas, expressed confidence that social distancing would be achievable at the rally because, he said, any event put on by the president would certainly adhere to safety protocols issued by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, a federal agency.

“I don’t see why the president would violate his own guidelines,” said Mr. White, a Trump surrogate who plans to attend the rally. “If I get there and people are on top of each other, that would look kind of interesting because I believe the C.D.C. works for the president.”

Few of those lined up to see Mr. Trump seemed concerned about maintaining significant distances from one another. People crowded in close for a prayer circle Friday afternoon at the Trump encampment, where mask-wearing was light.

On Friday evening, as cigarette smoke wafted, attendees dined together — a group went to Buffalo Wild Wings, others had pizza or Whataburger as they spoke with their neighbors. At least one attendee said he had spent the night sleeping in a lawn chair, sharing a tent with others he had met only the previous day.

“I don’t have a problem shaking hands with perfect strangers,” said that man, who would identify himself only as Jason, 48, an electrician from Seattle. He declined to give a last name, citing a fear of being doxxed. “This coronavirus is a little bit hyped up. The media hypes things.”

The coronavirus outbreak combined with a national debate over systemic racism brought two of America’s crises into focus in Oklahoma this weekend.

Mr. White, who is African-American, said that on his trip he also intended to visit Greenwood Avenue.

“We support the president, my district supports the president, at least based on the last voting tally I looked at in 2016,” Mr. White said, explaining his reasons for going to Tulsa. But, he added, “This is not just going up for the president — it’s having some opportunity to visit Greenwood and reflect on that horrible massacre.”

Nevertheless, the president was hardly promoting a moment of national reflection as Juneteenth approached. On Thursday night, he tweeted two fake videos, one about a racist baby that both Twitter and Facebook removed. And on Friday, he tweeted a barely veiled threat at protesters, suggesting there would be no lenience if they caused trouble at his event.

In the Greenwood Avenue neighborhood, that message was instead taken as an unmistakable threat. The Rev. Al Sharpton, a frequent critic of the president who was the keynote speaker at Friday’s Juneteenth event, said of the tweet: “We won’t bend, we won’t bow, we won’t give up. We have fought harder battles than this.”

The contentious nature of Saturday’s rally, and the split-screen of Mr. Trump’s Tulsa and the one that embraced Mr. Sharpton, stands in contrast to the spirit of racial reconciliation that Tulsa has long sought to foster. Because of the city’s history, and the approaching centennial anniversary of the 1921 race massacre, Republicans and Democrats have sought to form a shared political vocabulary, particularly when it comes to race. Senator James Lankford, a Republican and staunch ally of Mr. Trump, attended the Juneteenth celebrations with his family.

Phil Armstrong, one of the leaders of a commission established to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the massacre, which Mr. Lankford has supported, bemoaned the effect that outsiders — including Mr. Trump’s fans from across the country — could have on Tulsa’s carefully balanced relationships, both across race and political party.

“When white mobs destroyed Greenwood, there was a mindset that people said, We’re going to rebuild and make this bigger and better,” Mr. Armstrong said. “We have that same mindset now. Trump is coming? And on Juneteenth weekend? No. We’re going to come together and we’re going to be a counter-message.”

However, he said he was still nervous as Saturday approached, saying he worried about outside groups stoking violence.

In Oklahoma, guns may be carried without a license by most state residents.

But on Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, at the Trump encampment, the mood was more joyous than tense.