Page 78 of 107 Days

At Trump’s Madison Square Garden rally, the so-called comedian Tony Hinchcliffe opened with a vulgar, racist set that the MAGA audience strained to laugh at.

The lowest moment came when he announced, “There’s literally a floating island of garbage in the middle of the ocean right now. I think it’s called Puerto Rico.”

It wasn’t a new area of focus for me. I’d been so moved by the devastation I’d witnessed there after the hurricane, and so appalled by Trump’s callous paper-towel tossing and obstruction of aid, that I resolved, as United States senator, to represent the issues of the island, since the territory has no senator of its own.

I was doing a big swing through the diverse communities of West Philly that day.

After church, I dropped in to speak to young Black men at a barbershop, chatted and watched practice with some middle schoolers at a youth basketball program, and bought books for Amara and Leela at Hakim’s Bookstore, which specializes in books on African American history and culture.

I’d also visited Freddy and Tony’s Restaurant, a Puerto Rican–owned business. There are half a million Puerto Ricans in Pennsylvania, and I enjoyed talking to the crowd at the packed eatery about my ideas for uplifting the island, particularly its youth.

Later that evening, as word of the “joke” spread, we got calls from that warm group of Americans with whom I’d just spent the afternoon. They, and their beautiful island, didn’t deserve to be denigrated in that way.