This is my blog about my experience at the first Fort Walton Beach, Florida (FWB) No Kings Day celebration. I heard about it from my dad, who mentioned going out there on a Saturday just to see if anyone showed up. I was surprised by the turnout, roughly 200 people showed up in this deep red area, and it was fun. I assume it’s how people feel attending concerts.

By the way, I’m not sure whether to call it a celebration, protest, or demonstration.

Preface: I didn’t prepare much. I brought a folding stool, a Palestinian flag, a painter's mask, and shooter earmuffs. I showed up over an hour late. Luckily, there were people handing out water and signs. Of course, the cops were present. I’ll link the only news coverage on the FWB event to provide more context. I wasn’t interviewed. FWB News Coverage

Part 1: The Assembly in the Park

When I arrived at the park where the celebration started, I recorded someone who looked like local PD, just in case they were aggressive (they weren’t, and nothing came of it). As I listened to the organizers give their instructions, I set up my protest attire by pulling out my Palestinian flag, still in its wrapping. I zip-tied one end to my backpack so I could grab another corner to hold it up like an ad-hoc flagstaff, allowing the flag to hang next to me. I never put on the painter's mask.

When I displayed the flag, another attendee with a flag complimented us on our willingness to be there (of course, I was still overwhelmed and excited to be in public).

As the crowd gathered, I walked around looking at kiosks, people, and signs. Among the more interesting attendees was a small group of Trump supporters, about five people (the reporter said one, but I can confirm two since I saw two holding the same flag), a topless lady with googly eyes over her nipples, and some people holding the trans flag. I visited a kiosk that was handing out "No Kings" signs (about 1' by 2', painted on one side) and asked if he had a trash can, giving him a plastic coat hanger. The first thing I did with the "No Kings" sign was place it next to the Trump supporters' sign that read "Trump is Your King" (approximation) and then moved away, telling those who saw, "You have to have fun at these events." I took a few pictures and videos of the event to read the signs after the celebration was over. Yes, I unintentionally got the topless lady in frame but didn’t get a clear picture of the googly eyes.

Before the march started, I saw an older white man holding a Trump flag. I approached him, wearing my Palestinian flag, and commented, "It must suck to have your political opinion in a crowd that disagrees with you." The older gentleman muttered and walked away to help someone who dropped something. As he did that, I thanked him for looking out for the protesters. I did this to signal to him that he’s not the only one with a hated and unpopular position. Maybe he will consider that his devotion to Trump is comparable to my stance on Palestine.

Part 2: The March (The Interesting Part)

I will preface this by saying that my car said it was 91°F (32.8°C) with 70% humidity and clear skies, so I can blame how I acted and why I waited to write this blog on that.

I came alone to the celebration, making it easy to find a spot next to people. The route of the demonstration was along the sidewalks on Highway 98 (I can affirm this is a major part of the county because it’s the primary way to move east-west).

The first people I walked with asked about my flag, thinking it was a Jordanian flag. I blurted out that it was Palestinian and mentioned that there is a Palestinian state in Jordan that was attacked by Israel in the '70s. As I walked with them, car drivers were handing out bottles of water, and some had decorated their cars with Trump paraphernalia.

Later on, I saw a man in his 30s holding the same Trump flag participating in the march. I audibly muttered, "I can be a troll," and got in front of him to hide his flag with the flag of true heroes who died saving babies from rubble—Palestine. The Trump supporter calmly approached me to talk about Palestine, claiming he had intel on the conflict and that I could ask him any questions. I affirmed that I had no questions. I pointed out that conversations about the Israeli genocide often lead straight to Hamas, and I never commented on it. The points I remember making are that baby rape is bad and that Israel is wrong for rounding up children and abusing them in concentration camps (in response to him saying Palestine or Hamas rapes babies), and that Israel is wrong for intentionally shooting babies. I mentioned that I’m an atheist but can stand with Palestinian Christians, Jews, and Muslims being slaughtered by Israel. I asked how I felt about a new government in Palestine, and I told him I’d have to research it, but it would be like here if Democrats or Republicans came into power—things would still suck; they’re "two flavors of shit," and Trump works for oligarchs. Eventually, he backed off to end the conversation.

I fell behind because my backpack fell apart, and other protesters helped me collect my stuff. People assured me that I should take my portable stool with me for the rest of the march. The cops told me to pick it up, so I blamed the heat for leaving it behind and picked it up. This put me next to an awesome older lady carrying her oxygen concentrator and her sign through the march. She commented on the topless lady with googly eyes as something indecent and objectionable. In my honesty, I said, "I found it hilarious." Later, she said, "That is gay," and I sat there confused. She later confirmed that was about Valimont, the Democrat who ran against Matt Gaetz, known for a sex trafficking scandal and who lost.

As we approached the crosswalk, the police put their vehicle in the intersection so we could cross. As I crossed, I thanked the cop for their service, which made them pause mid-order. I heard protesters behind me also thank the police. Of course, this is controversial, but I thanked the cops to make them more sympathetic to left-wing movements so they wouldn’t throw tear gas at a later protest. I was at a BLM protest in Beavercreek, Ohio, where we got gassed, and they pulled out shields and batons, surrounding us. I wouldn’t mind getting more leeway for leftist movements from the police.

I found someone wearing a red cross and said, "Always good to see first aid" (of course, I meant first responders). The awesome lady went as far as she could but complained about the heat. I offered her my stool and made sure she was okay. Other protesters and I fanned her down using our signs to provide shade. She asked one of the policemen to escort her across the highway to her car. Later, I heard there was a medical emergency and even saw an ambulance on the highway. I continued with the protest because I believe the people around are capable of helping.

I had fun with hecklers, like the teens making sounds, and I asked them for their best goat sounds. Goat Sounds. Another heckler shouted, "Viva la Mexico!" and I repeated, "Viva la Mexico!" because "Viva la Mexico" is a great phrase to live by. Then I was told not to engage with hecklers.

Someone told me to go back to Palestine, and I reaffirmed, "I still stand with Palestine."

The Trump supporter was getting pushback from people who didn’t want him there. I stated my position that we can be inclusive and that "he's fine." When he mentioned our conversation, I told everyone that I told him, "I oppose the Israeli genocide."

Part 3: Rally and Returning to My Car

When we finished the loop, there was a rally by the local Democrat running for office. I stood to show off the Palestinian flag (as much as the heat sucks, Palestinians have it worse) and called on my current Republican House representative to protect Medicare and Medicaid, following the rally's instructions before leaving. Someone from Food Not Bombs approached me during the rally to fix my flag so it wasn’t in my hat. I assured them that I was experimenting with different placements and that they could use their discretion; that’s why the flag was like a cape. I made sure the Palestinian flag was in the shot of any camera I saw.

Luckily, I saw that awesome lady one last time, and she confirmed she was alright. I told her I was worried about her since I heard there was a medical emergency.

The heat really started to get to me, and I forgot where I parked my car (it’s like trying to find where you parked at Walmart but you’re more exhausted). I rested for a minute before placing my sign next to a chain-link fence next to the highway and returned to my car.