My week covering mayhem on Donald Trump’s doorstep

Last Friday was meant to be a celebration in Washington DC. After two months of a stay-at-home order for coronavirus, the city’s lockdown was finally beginning to lift. 

Hairdressers were open again. Shops were allowed to do curbside pick-up. And restaurants had been given the all-clear for people to dine in, providing they had garden seating. 

I was among those taking advantage. It had been a long day, with a protest emerging in Minneapolis escalating dramatically the night before, but it had not yet spread to many cities. 

Sipping a beer and waiting for food on Capitol Hill, a check of Twitter suggested that could be changing. Demonstrators were beginning to make their way to the White House. 

Snippets of videos suggested the crowd was not big – a few hundred perhaps. They seemed peaceful. But George Floyd’s name being chanted at Donald Trump’s front door was a story. 

Heading across in a cab there was little sign of what was to come – a week of anger, violence, confrontations and controversy unlike anything on the city’s streets for at least half a century.

There would be fighting, torched cars and bloodshed. A president would be bundled into an underground bunker. Chemical gas and flash bangs would be used to clear the streets. 

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