On Sunday night, I walked two of my oldest friends from Buffalo onto the South Lawn of the White House for UFC Freedom 250. What they experienced there explains better than any poll why you better not count Donald Trump’s base out of this year’s midterms.
My ninth grade best friend, Carl Salemi, introduced me to Chuck Sonntag, who remains one of my closest friends. When Carl tragically died in a construction accident shortly after I joined the Army in the early 1980s, I stayed close with his younger brother Mike. Across decades, Mike, Chuck, and I still ran with the Big Tree Boys—a late-1970s crew of cigarette-smoking teenage ruffians from the hardscrabble neighborhood around the Buffalo Bills stadium.
Since birth, Chuck has lived with polyostotic fibrous dysplasia, a childhood chronic disease that destroys bones. It has literally cost him an arm and a leg, and much more, and he has used a wheelchair most of his life. That never slows him down.
Chuck’s most recent amputation happened just before the 2014 battle to stop Jon Bon Jovi from buying the Buffalo Bills and moving them to Toronto. That’s when he and Mike volunteered to help New York developer Donald Trump try to buy the team and keep them in Buffalo. They were key players in what became known as Bills Fan Thunder—the grassroots group Trump inspired us to create.
Twelve years later, under the leadership of founder and Trump backer Charles Pellien, that same nonprofit group has brought over 600 children and parents from disadvantaged and military families to Buffalo Bills home games.
They weren’t big shots—just local guys who always show up and work. But 12 years later, the president still remembered them.
Two months ago, when it became clear a UFC event was certain to take place at the White House, Mike called me asking if I could help get tickets for him and Chuck. I submitted their names, reminding the White House team of their history with the president. I warned the boys not to get their hopes up. These were the most sought-after White House tickets in generations. We expected nothing and pretty much wrote it off.
Then last Wednesday, the White House called. The president had personally selected Chuck and Mike as guests, and I was to attend along with them. Mike nearly dropped the phone when I told him. Chuck was literally shaking with emotion.
The realization that after 12 years, Donald Trump—now president twice—still remembered the regular Buffalo guys who had helped him when he tried to buy the Bills, hit them hard.
Sunday night on the South Lawn was unlike any event I’ve seen in 40 years of putting on major productions. The UFC and White House teams combined to create something flawless. The patriotism was profound, the respect for the troops was felt in every detail, and the Blue Angels flyover—indeed, every moment of the night—gave everyone chills.
Early in the evening, our friend David Bellavia, a Medal of Honor recipient from Buffalo, came walking by with his fellow heroes. He knows Chuck and gave him a big hug and, with an impish grin, Bell said, “Oh, you’re gonna get a lot of thank-yous tonight.” We soon found out what he meant.
All night long, active-duty soldiers, sailors, Marines, and airmen kept approaching Chuck, shaking his hand and thanking him for his service. Chuck, who has never worn the uniform, would politely tell them about his bone disease. At one point, he looked at me, half laughing and half panicked, and whispered, “What do I do? This keeps happening.”
“Maybe just roll with it,” Mike said. The Big Tree Boys had made up a lot of wheelchair jokes for Chuck over six decades.
Our seats were in a VIP section because of wheelchair access. We were surrounded by sports icons, media stars, cabinet secretaries, Trump White House leaders, and other high-profile guests. At one point I stepped away, and when I returned, Zac Brown—the man who had just sung the national anthem—was sitting in my seat. He was deep in conversation with Chuck and Mike.
Two regular guys who have spent their lives running kitchens and parking lots and selling merch at Bills games and concerts were having a heartfelt talk with the national anthem singer at the White House. Even more surprising: Zac promised to look Chucky up when he’s in Buffalo for his November 5 show.
Mike, the ultimate UFC fan, was in heaven. The fighters stopped on their way down the path to the octagon to bump knuckles. He was a total fanboy, chasing selfies with every celebrity who walked past. What amazed me was that nobody turned him down—they didn’t turn anybody down. The entire event had an old-school atmosphere of genuine warmth, mutual respect, and kindness.
Somehow, we got lined up by the White House entrance as the president returned to his residence long after midnight. Chuck was wide-eyed; Mike was chatty.
“Mr. President, thank you,” Mike said at high volume. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”
President Trump turned to him. “You know what, we’ll never see anything like that, ever again,” he said. There was a smile on his face and a touch of regret in his voice.
As we walked back to our hotel, the magnitude of the night really hit us. We talked about our families, about our old neighborhood, and their trials and tribulations. Mike was so floored he stayed up until 4 a.m. talking and praying in the hotel lobby with a visiting police chaplain from Chicagoland, who was also the president’s guest at the UFC event. Chuck and I were exhausted, but we couldn’t stop talking.
This wasn’t just a fight night. This was Donald Trump speaking directly to the once-forgotten Americans—the working-class people who were invisible for decades. He didn’t just invite them; he honored them. And alongside real military heroes he remembered regular guys, like these men from Buffalo who stood with him long before the golden escalator, before the presidency, before any of this.
The usual critics on the left and among the Never Trump Republicans sneered at the event as low-class and beneath the dignity of the White House. They view “those people”, the ones who loved the event, in the same way.
Real America took note. The self-appointed elite may only have succeeded in guaranteeing that more of the disengaged Chucks and Mikes of the country maintain their connection with Trump and turn out one more time for him in the midterm elections. Now it’s up to the GOP to amplify those snobs in ads featuring the highlights—both inside and outside the cage—from UFC Freedom 250.
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President Trump understands his voters in a way few politicians ever have. He knows respect and recognition often matter more than any policy paper. By bringing regular working folk—Battle Buddies, builders, bricklayers, bartenders, and Big Tree Boys—into the heart of the White House for an event they actually love, he reminded them that they matter to him.
Real America sees that; they get it. President Trump gets it, too: when people know they matter, they show up.
So don’t bet against Trump’s base on November 3. And me? I bet Zac Brown and Chucky will hang out in Buffalo two days later to talk about a midterm victory.
