Berkeley Springs is a concentrate of America. Its residents rush to the bakery in the early morning, smile at each other, but now avoid pronouncing a name that causes tension: Donald Trump.
The Trump whirlwind divides the 850 inhabitants of this village in West Virginia, in the eastern United States, more than ever into two worlds: the conservatives, anchored in the region for generations, and the progressives, coming from the big cities to settle in the hollow of the Appalachians, green mountains with gentle slopes.
Cohabitation, calm for decades, is becoming tense.
“Those who have remained silent until now are raising their voices to defend their rights, which annoys others who are raising their voices in turn. So today, everyone is raising their voices, and it’s getting worse… until it implodes,” says Kate Colby, 44, owner of a small gift shop, with a bitter laugh.
A large flag in LGBT+ colors hangs on one of the walls. Residents, anchored to the right of the political spectrum, want her to remove it.
A dispute that reflects the image of the country: progressives feel the president’s diatribes against minorities as attacks, while the Republican’s supporters feel legitimized by his speech.
Polarization is growing
This polarization is growing in the United States, with a president who no longer pretends to attack, for his second term, the balance of power and his political adversaries.
Donald Trump “is doing a damn good job of polarizing everything. With him, it’s you’re on my side, or get out», Regrets Nicole Harris, 47 years old.
She moved from her native Oregon to open bed and breakfasts in the hills of Berkeley Springs in the northern part of the state. In this rural and industrial region, nearly 90% of voters chose Donald Trump in the last presidential election.
So to avoid sparks, keep your mouth shut. No political discussion with her neighbors, whom she describes as “very traditional”, nor with its customers, “so as not to harm business”.
Further down the valley, Beth Curtin works in one of the beautiful brick houses in the town center, dotted with art shops, cafes and restaurants. Her whole life resides there, in this jumble of carefully sorted antiques, which she has managed for 36 years. Many of her friends are conservative, devoted to Trump. Not her.
“We meet each other all the time”
“It’s a small village, we meet each other all the time. It’s not like in big cities where you can only hang out with people with the same opinions. Here, we go to the same restaurants, the same supermarkets… But as it’s important to get along with everyone, I try to hold my tongue,” sighs the grandmother in a calm voice.
Just a stone’s throw away, God, family, individual freedom, Scott Wetzel’s America. The 62-year-old man, with a lean body and lively eyes, recounts in an air-conditioned café his childhood on the farm and a life of work in landscaping and then construction. For him, Democrats are “communists” who threaten his way of thinking.
“When I talk to them about freedom, their idea is to tell me how to live. That’s not freedom. They don’t understand, but there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s anchored in their minds,” says the retiree, standing behind the counter.
“If they want to spout their bullshit, let them do it. But I won’t listen to them,” continues Scott Wetzel.
Parade against MAGA caps
At the beginning of July, residents demonstrated in the streets of Berkeley Springs against Donald Trump’s “big and beautiful law”, when, just a stone’s throw away, a truck was selling caps bearing his image.
Many people boycott businesses whose owners have opposing views, like Beth, the antique store manager, who doesn’t want to give her money “to people who have these ultraconservative ideas.”
“This has to change, we can’t continue like this. We need to return to a world in which people live peacefully side by side, like before Trump,” dreams Kate Colby in her gift store.
“Find an in-between”
On the balcony of his elegant house, the mayor, Greg Schene, calms the spirits. Berkeley Springs, “it’s a real melting pot,” admits the Baltimore native. But “I think we must always try to find an in-between”, asserts, conciliatory and smiling, the elected official who greets passers-by.
