Staff Writer Pam Marino contributed to this report.
Tensions ran high even before an April 3 event hosted by the Association of Monterey Bay Conservatives began at 6pm on Thursday. The lineup promised (and ultimately delivered) remarks from six men who had been at the United States Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021 and all of who were federally charged—then either convicted or entered a guilty plea—for crimes connected to the insurrection that day. All were sentenced to time in prison. And all were pardoned by President Donald Trump.
As venue hosts faced public pressure, three different venues canceled. (First was Seaside’s Bayonet and Black Horse, followed by the U.S. Army’s General Stilwell Community Center in Seaside, followed by the Santa Lucia Parlor of the Native Sons of the Golden West in Salinas—leadership there only learned a rogue member had booked the event from reading about it on Monterey County Now on April 2, then canceled the event.)
That left organizers asking paid attendees, "for confidential purposes,” to meet in a parking lot in South Salinas to get the location a half-hour before the event start time on April 3. About 30 people did so, and showed up at the Portuguese Hall in East Salinas.
A small but vocal group of protesters, about 20-25 people, gathered outside the venue. As attendees arrived—and then again as they left at 8:30pm, and intermittently in between—the two worlds clashed. Protesters shouted, “Racists are not welcome here!” and gave attendees the middle finger. As eventgoers left the venue, some heckled the protesters outside; one woman repeatedly made the sign of the cross while smirking at the people outside the fence. One woman set up a speaker to blast “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood, then danced with a man to the tune; they waved at the protesters.
One small group of protesters waved a Mexican flag and a UFW flag and occasionally turned up a recording of a beat with a rap with the words: “Yeah yeah, fuck Donald Trump.”
One protester, Charles Clarke of Prunedale, is an Army veteran who served in Kuwait. “I literally wasted years of my life protecting this country only to have shit like this happen,” he says.
One protest organizer, Chris Barrera (the president of the local chapter of LULAC, the League of United Latin American Citizens and a former candidate for Salinas mayor) says the message he hoped to give was: “We don’t want hate groups in our city.”
One protester, Maria-Elena Cordero of Salinas, was less interested in delivering a message of protest than bridging the gap. “I was hoping to have a conversation with one of them,” she said. “I would like to engage in civil discourse and ask serious questions. I don’t want to interrupt or swear at them, I want to talk, so I can understand what moved them to do what they did.
“My real goal is civil discourse. If we don’t have that, we are never going to get anywhere.”
Cordero approached one of the three private security guards onsite and requested such a conversation; one of the speakers, Jorge Riley, wearing a custom vest that reads “Pardoned Insurrectionist” came outside and the two spoke. Cordero described their conversation as cordial, if incomplete. “I asked him if he thought he’d broken the law, and he said no. I asked why [he entered the Capitol] and he said the police invited him in.”
After that, she says, he clammed up and returned to the venue—“but at least I got to talk to one of them.”
Two Weekly staffers attempted to enter the event, after inquiring repeatedly about media access and receiving no response. (In a previous statement, organizer Karen Reissman wrote: “It is our hope to share their stories and experience with the community.”) Upon entering the Portuguese Hall, a person at check-in asked private security to remove the reporters and yelled, “They are invading a private function.”
Instead, we waited outside for the duration of the event and then viewed a video of the presentations afterward.
The first speaker was Daniel Goodwyn, who was sentenced to 60 days in prison after pleading guilty to one count of entering or remaining in a restricted building. “Jan. 6 was the most patriotic day of my life,” he said. “We went there as patriots to stand up for election integrity and support the president who told us to be there.”
(He also told the audience he objects to the DOJ’s characterization of him as a Proud Boy, but added: “There’s nothing wrong with Proud Boys.”)
He estimated there are about 100 insurrectionists in California and said he hopes they all connect to each other. Besides each individual’s story—in which they each shared a personal account in which they claimed they were innocent and were denied due process—they shared a broader vision for how pardoned Jan. 6 rioters are fashioning themselves post-pardon.
Edward Badalian said he cannot now get a normal job, so he is leaning on speaking events like the one in Salinas, writing a book called Rise of a Nation and continuing a podcast he started while he was in jail.
The group is raising money but Goodwyn noted they’ve been kicked off of mainstream platforms like GoFundMe, so instead are relying on GiveSendGo for donations.
“We’re not going to just forget about J6 and move on,” Badalian said. “I’m really glad to see that you guys are out here getting involved in grassroots politics. These kind of meetings, this is how we take back California.”
In a statement on April 4, the day after the event, Reissman writes, “Despite facing opposition and attempts to cancel our event, we are proud to announce that we prevailed against misinformation. A few establishments unfortunately yielded to external pressure, but we remained resolute in our mission. Ultimately, our determination allowed us to proceed with the event as planned, and it was a tremendous success. We are elated by the outcome and appreciate the support we received from those who stood with us.”