At Mar-a-Lago as the red wave died out

It was a dark and stormy election night at Mar-a-Lago, former president Donald Trump’s Florida home and private club, which is the marquee residence of our island resort community of Palm Beach. In the world outside American politics, Tropical Storm Nicole was gathering strength and bearing down on us. Earlier in the day, the Island (always with a capital “I,” unless you’re not really a resident and don’t know any better) was placed under a hurricane warning. About an hour before the party started, the town issued a mandatory evacuation order to take effect at 7 a.m. the following morning.

All this was forgotten as euphoric Republicans gathered inside the gates, snugly out of the gusts and downpour. Over sumptuous dinners (escargots and New York strip washed down with a florid Sangiovese for me), members and guests buoyantly speculated about how well the Republicans would do in the predicted “red wave.” A heavy Secret Service presence and the requisite metal detectors signaled that Trump would be the most important person in attendance, even though he was at least not officially a candidate for any office. His son Eric and daughter-in-law Lara nonchalantly took a table in the splendorous dining room — exquisitely well preserved over Trump’s decades of ownership — just like any other well-heeled couple. Pretty girls fluttered around successful men of a certain age. Some of the glamor lovelies offered sharp insights into the latest polling data, leadership gossip and media chicanery. Others seemed less interested in politics than in other things. Mar-a-Lago’s initiation fee, after all, is now reportedly $1 million.

The real party was in Mar-a-Lago’s luxurious ballroom, a gilded marble addition Trump built on the property in the early 2000s. Sprawling over 20,000 square feet, it evokes what Louis XIV might have done if he’d had the money. Under glittering chandeliers, a buffet supper extended almost the full length of the room as jolly members, besotted supporters, third-tier media personalities, and stiff operatives poured in from upstairs. No candidates were present. They had their own gatherings in state and district capitals across America for what they hoped would be victory parties. At the front of the room stood a dais festooned with American flags flanking a podium marked “Save America” with directions to text “Trump” to a certain number. The opposite side hosted a bank of reporters and cameramen, mostly gloomy mainstream media types who seemed peeved to have to cover Trump in his palace. Giant screens broadcasting the results were tuned to Fox News, Newsmax, One America and even CNN.

The news trickled in slowly. Almost no race of consequence was decided during the event — and several decisive races remain unresolved now. Nor could anyone say with certainty that either house of Congress had flipped. Even when the rare bit of momentous news was announced, Mar-a-Lago types were not given to fan-style hooting. The town of Palm Beach’s noise ordinance, in fact, includes “hooting” in a long list of activities that are prohibited at certain hours. The only sustained applause was reserved for Trump himself, who arrived at around 10 p.m., flanked by a coterie of new and unfamiliar advisers and eagle-eyed Secret Service agents. Perhaps by design, he missed Florida governor Ron DeSantis’s riveting victory speech, celebrating his crushing defeat of challenger Charlie Crist.

As Trump moved toward the dais, the crowd gave him the standing ovation he customarily receives when entering one of his properties’ dining rooms. He gave a short speech predicting wins and losses, and admonished the “fake news media” to view what good and successful people Mar-a-Lago members are, before wishing all a fine evening. He then worked the crowd for a bit, exchanging words with friends and acquaintances, shaking hands and posing for the occasional selfie. As he reached his table, set off with the usual velvet rope but only about ten feet from the next one (my own), the Secret Service warned off onlookers so he could review and discuss the results with some privacy. Food and beverage staff obligingly delivered trays of Diet Coke and piles of cocktail franks.

All in all, Trump cut a good form. He stayed until midnight, scouring race after race, watching both Fox and CNN at the same time. He seemed pleased when J.D. Vance, whom he endorsed, was declared the victor in Ohio’s Senate race. The reelection of Georgia’s governor Brian Kemp, who flustered him in the 2020 presidential election, gave him a long face. He threw out questions and comments to his tablemates, who looked nervous as the “red wave” proved underwhelming. He seemed less than pleased, but far from the anger and screaming other reports have suggested.

Only a few dozen people stayed until midnight, when Trump retired for the evening after another round of greetings and handshakes. The last person he shook hands with thanked him for the party and said, “Courage. Courage.” He nodded with a look of determination and walked off.