I’ve stood in the buffer — the area between the stage and the audience typically fenced in with a bike rack — during thousands of political events. In 2020, I was the staff member on Bernie Sanders’ campaign ultimately responsible for all of his rallies and events. The attempted assassination of Donald Trump last Saturday in Butler, Pennsylvania and the murder of a rally attendee at the hands of a gunman was my worst nightmare come to life — an attempt on the life of a presidential candidate where an attendee is killed and others are seriously injured at the hands of a deranged individual.

I cannot imagine what the Trump advance staffer who dove on top of reporters to shield them from bullets was feeling as he stood in that spot so familiar to me.

Too often, my now nearly quarter-century career in campaigns and government has put me far too close to political violence. I vividly remember being evacuated from the Capitol on September 11, 2001, after a police officer ran into our office screaming that a plane was headed our way. A few weeks later, when I had just started my job as a legislative correspondent (the staff member responsible for answering the office’s mail), envelopes containing anthrax were sent to numerous Congressional offices. At a time when some constituent mail was still letters, there was a palpable fear that any envelope we opened might contain white powder, until they shut down incoming mail and had it all sent to a facility that screened and decontaminated it.

On January 6, 2021, I had just received the first dose of the Covid vaccine in the Capitol physician’s office on the House side of the complex when the shelter-in-place call went out over the loudspeaker. Told I had to leave the post-vaccine holding room, I ended up first sheltering at the entrance to the Rayburn tunnel until I was told it was not safe, as I heard the “shots fired” call ring out over a police radio and watched an officer with blood dripping from their face retreat from the Capitol.

I fled through the basement tunnels to the Cannon Building where I ran into another group of police in full riot gear who told me it wasn’t safe there, and I needed to find a place to hide. It was hours later I finally made it back to my office on the Senate side of the capitol. Late that evening, Bernie and I walked through the Capitol. Broken glass and furniture were strewn across the floor, which was covered in white residue. The memories of that day still haunt me.

In between these two moments of my career I witnessed dozens of incidents, mostly minor, as I traveled the country with presidential campaigns. It was not uncommon for the politicians and organizations I worked for to receive threatening messages, including once a full clip of bullets with a note containing an ominous warning.

The heinous crime committed in Butler, Pennsylvania, as is the case with all political violence, were not simply crimes against Donald Trump or Corey Comperatore, the firefighter who was killed by one of the would-be assassin’s bullets. It was a crime against all of us.  

I would never vote for Donald Trump based on fundamental disagreements with both the policies he supports and the way he comported himself while in office. But, the attack on him and the attendees at his rally was an attack on all of us, our democratic process and our rights to speech and assembly. They are an attempt to silence and suppress the right of our fellow citizens to vote for the candidate of their choice.

Political disagreements, even strident ones, are a sign of a healthy discourse. People arguing about the future they want for our country, debating, protesting and lobbying their elected officials are important. It would be far better if more people, including those I vigorously disagree with, passionately advocated for their beliefs.

Ultimately, as a country our differences must be settled in the voting booth and our views are best expressed through our rights to speech and assembly.

Those perpetuating political violence are attempting to rob us of those fundamental rights. Let’s never succumb to them.