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A reader passes along an anecdote that tells of The Trumpening sweeping the nation. I reprint it in full here.

******

Heartiste,

I just wanted to drop you a line about something that happened this morning at work, 6AM on a Saturday being the white man’s burden when you work in construction.

A T level most certainly is rising across the fruited plain.

I’m a construction superintendent, working currently on a project to build a Starbucks in an airport outside of the security area. I unlocked the job site for some of my subcontractors before they arrived, and went upstairs to pass through security with my airport credentials so that I could grab a tray of caffeinated nectars for my worker bees. The manager for the food service company comps me free coffees because we’re building their other location.

I noticed a new worker behind the register today. Young lad, probably 19 or 20, working his weekend gig as there’s a state college nearby. He’s as tall as I am at 5’11”, and has the lean runner’s build that I once had in my youth before I started to lift and weld for a living. His hair is blonde, a bit long but not unkempt but waving out a bit on the sides from beneath his company hat. I’m dressed casually. Button-down Carhartt plaid work shirt, well-fitting jeans, and Red Wing work boots. I have my Trumpening campaign donation hat on– it’s glorious simplicity broadcasting a bold MAGA on a crimson background.

The young fellow gets told by the manager that I’m all set– a woman in her mid to late forties, post wall, but with a prominently displayed rock and wedding band on her finger. She radiates a maternal glow despite her declined looks that reveal a stunner in previous years. The young blonde man can’t hold it back anymore, and he looks for the fifth time at my hat, locks eyes with me and his face starts beaming from ear to ear in that sort of genuine happiness that may make him look a bit buffoonish, but his youthful excitement won’t let him control his state. He slides my coffees over and gushes, “Man, I LOVE that hat!!!” I ask, “Do you have one?” He does not. I have four or five of them from my repeat donations and an order for two more. I took my hat off and handed it to him, and he’s beside himself with thanks.

He struck me as a young man who is a beta of circumstance of his environment, on the precipice of losing his last fuck to give about Leftoid sensibilities so pervasive in our culture. He innately knows, and maybe isn’t quite able to articulate it yet, that what is happening with Trump is a very wholesome and virtuous thing.

I walked away thinking, for the first time in a long time, that there really is hope for nation.

Keep up the tireless work. You have my faith and support.

******

It’s the little trumpenings like the one in this story that, added together, foretell a revolution so mighty and unstoppable it will smash the edifice of the One World/One Race Globalist Order and replace it with what has been lost and ignored for far too long: Truth and Beauty. Our fathers might have thought, “someday a real rain will come and wash away the filth”. The rains have come. The filth is scurrying for the sewers. Tomorrow brings a Golden Don.

PS Reader Corvo offers his own Trumpening anecdote.

I was campaigning for Trump knocking on doors in a run-down PA town this past weekend with a 20-something year-old young White man. This town used to be full of working-class Whites, now most of the houses are abandoned or inhabited by blacks or mestizos who don’t speak English.

Out of roughly 60 doors we knocked on in this neighborhood, there were only a handful of Whites; they seemed to me cut-off, desperately clinging to what little they had left and surrounded by a sea of decay as the third-world rose around them. They were pretty shocked to see two White men with MAGA hats knock on their door offering bumper stickers and campaign flyers.

One man was so happy to see us, he shook our hands and thanked us for coming out and said he couldn’t remember the last time a Republican presidential campaign came through his neighborhood. This young goy I was with had a TRUMP t-shirt (new from the campaign office) on top of his long-sleeved shirt, and he took the Trump t-shirt off and handed it to the guy and said “Here, take this one, I’ll get another one later.”

People are waking up, indeed.

That’s a great vignette of life in America’s Forgotten White communities. These are the left behind people disparaged as “deserving to die” by fatcuck NROnik Kevin Williamson and as “deplorable” by corruptcunt Hillary Clinton. Instead of helping these lost souls, our anti-White cucks and Clintonista globalist whores want to heap an endless procession of miseries upon them. There isn’t a lake of fire deep enough and hot enough to consume all the rottenness and malevolence that animates Hillary Clinton’s wicked corporeal form.

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