COLLEGE PARK, Md. – Danny Hamilton wasn’t sure how many diehard Donald Trump fans would take a nine-hour bus ride from Atlanta and then camp in a suburban RV park in Maryland for three nights just to catch a glimpse of the inauguration.
But to his surprise, roughly 80 people paid $900 a pop and joined his Trump caravan for the journey – even after an impending snowblast and freezing temperatures forced officials to move the inauguration to smaller confines indoors.
So there he was early Saturday at a frigid campsite in Maryland, along with dozens of other Trump supporters from across the South who piled into seven buses and trekked north overnight. They arrived uncertain of where they’d watch the swearing-in ceremony – but just happy to be there.
“It’s kind of like a final victory,” said Hamilton, as he sat in a comfy lounge in one of the buses, surrounded by his son, girlfriend and several close friends he met through a shared love of Trump. “I don’t know if we’ll get in, but it doesn’t matter.”
Tens of thousands of Trump supporters who had trucked into Washington were in the same iffy dilemma after the president-elect announced he would move his inauguration ceremony inside the Capitol Rotunda for the first time in 40 years.
“We’re all up in the air. This is a follow your text messages, follow your emails and see what’s going on moment-by-moment scenario,” said Jared Craig, a caravanner who also is a vice president of the Pro-Trump Veterans for America First group.
Still, attendees took solace that the other events were set to move forward as scheduled. Several had tickets to black-tie galas and were eagerly awaiting the “bus to ballroom” challenge – the gauntlet of dressing in evening gowns and tuxedos and making it to downtown Washington from the soggy RV park.
Rena Norvell drove from the seaside Florida town of New Smyrna Beach to Atlanta to hitch a ride on the fleet. She said she wiped out part of her life savings and left an elderly parent and special needs child behind, but that the ride alone was worth it.
As the pro-Trump parade trekked up the interstates, passersby heartily honked at the procession of MAGA-clad buses – whether out of joy or disgust it was unclear. She and other passengers bonded over shared hopes about Trump’s return to power. The Village People’s “YMCA,” Trump’s unlikely campaign rally anthem, was the ride’s unofficial soundtrack.
“I’m so excited,” said Lisa Owens, another passenger. “Rain or snow, we’re just here with a good attitude.”
‘The finger test’
Hamilton, the architect of the Georgia-to-Maryland Trump convoy, is a veteran of this sort of thing. About a decade ago, he converted a luxury bus into a MAGA shuttle, crammed with pro-Trump buttons, pins, signs and magnets he’s accumulated along the way.
He’s logged more than 200,000 miles on the bus and attended more than 50 rallies. He’s met Trump six times over the past decade. But he’s prouder still of the camaraderie he’s built along the way.
He met Owens, his girlfriend, on a campaign convoy for Trump. Ditto for several of his best friends. Hamilton’s son, who sometimes worries about his father’s safety, often comes along for the ride, too. Hamilton calls it a “MAGA fraternity.”
“It’s just true love. It really is,” he said of the deep connections he’s made. “It’s love like you hear about.”
One of those is Lenny Solomon, another Georgian who spoke of lofty hopes that Trump’s second administration would unravel the Washington status quo.
“When somebody comes along that’s not a professional politician and isn’t predictable, they don’t know what he’s going to do,” said Solomon. “They’re afraid of him, and they’re scared of him because he’s not predictable. Our enemies fear us, our allies trust us.”
Mark Williams, another longtime Trump activist from Georgia, said he can’t help but feel “liberated” after the last few weeks.
“I like to say we won the cold revolution,” he said. “And when Trump won the election, it felt like it changed everything. It felt like, instantly, people had a whole new attitude about things.”
Some in the Georgia motorcade might have doubted Trump’s comeback chance. But Hamilton said he was certain of victory.
“I knew Trump was going to win months ago based on the finger test.”
The finger test?
That’s the count of how many thumbs-up gestures and middle-fingers he tallied as he drove the Trump bus across the nation. He still remembers the day in early 2024 when the positive gestures surpassed the negative ones, for good.
“It was simple,” he said. “I saw it through the eyes of the bus. And my windshields are my eyes.”
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