Politics suck. They do. I have voted for Donald Trump and defended him many times because, for most of my adult life, I admired his ability to take hit after hit and keep moving.

Ronald Reagan once held the title of the teflon president. Trump took the incoming fire to a completely different level.

He has been attacked for everything from his policies to his personality. Half the country sees him as a hero and half sees him as something far darker. Through all that noise I always respected his ability to rise above the chaos and push forward.

But this week, when the world learned that Rob Reiner had been killed, Trump chose cruelty. Not strength. Not leadership. Cruelty. And for the first time as a supporter, I found myself disgusted.

He wasn’t punching up or defending himself. He was taking a cheap shot at a man who was not even alive to answer. A father. A husband. A creative force.

Someone whose story now mirrors my own in ways I never imagined I would understand. I survived the statistically rarest kind of attack a parent can survive. Rob Reiner did not.

So when Trump made his post, it didn’t feel like politics. It felt personal. It hurt, man.

Even Trump’s strongest allies rejected what he said

Literally no one thought Trump’s comments were acceptable. When you lose me ya know it’s bad. Not one prominent supporter stepped up to defend him. Instead, the opposite happened.

Roseanne Barr called Reiner’s death a travesty. James Woods talked about how Reiner saved his career. And Rob Schneider, who has practically built his public identity on being pro Trump, went on Fox News and said clearly that the president was wrong.

Schneider said:

The president must rise above it, and he seems incapable of rising above the situation and being the president of all of us.

He also said Trump should have simply acknowledged Reiner’s talent and humanity and then left it at that.

But here is the truth. When you experience a trauma that cuts as deep as the death of a loved one or the betrayal of a child, the moments that stand out are the ones where humanity should be the easiest.

Compassion should be instinctive. Empathy should be automatic. But Trump chose mockery.

Why this moment hit me in a way politics never could

I relate to Rob Reiner’s story for reasons most people will never understand. The kind of violence that ends a parent’s life is so rare that criminologists do not even have reliable statistics for survival.

And those who do survive are statistical anomalies. I am one of them.

So when I see a man like Trump, a man I have admired, respond to a tragedy like this with a smirk instead of a moment of dignity, it lands differently. It lands in the space where my trauma still lives.

This isn’t about left or right. It isn’t about Biden or Trump. It isn’t about the culture war. It is about humanity.

One of the lessons I have learned through my own nightmare is that compassion is the only thing that heals anything.

Even when you disagree with someone. Even when you have opposite politics. Even when you have said terrible things about each other online.

Rob Reiner and I definitely disagreed vehemently about politics, but l bet we would agree on comedy.

We could still agree on the humanity of the man.

That is the America most of us want to live in. I still believe people can surprise us. Hopefully.

Trump has been the most resilient politician of my lifetime. He has survived scandals, lawsuits, impeachments, investigations, and two presidential cycles. But resilience without compassion is just noise.

Power without empathy becomes destructive. And leadership without humanity collapses into cruelty.

When a man loses his life in such a tragic way, the only correct response is dignity. Respect. Silence if you have nothing kind to say.

I am disappointed. Truly. Because this could have been a moment to show growth.

A moment to remind the world that even the most polarizing figures can step outside the circus for a breath of decency.

Instead, the loudest headline became Trump chooses mockery where compassion was needed. Although, I have experienced this as well from former colleagues in broadcasting. I guess another parallel between Donnie and I.

Where I land today

I will always be honest about who I am. I am someone who has been misunderstood, attacked, and judged in ways that would break most people.

I have been dragged in courts. I have been publicly distorted. I have had my most important person in my life turn against me under a false narrative.

I have survived something that almost no parent survives. So I understand pain. I understand trauma. I understand what matters and what does not.

Trump’s comments about Rob Reiner did not anger me because of politics. They angered me because they violated something deeper. They violated the idea that even in our most divided moments, we do not lose our humanity.

Rob Reiner deserved better. His family deserved better. And the country deserved better.

Maybe this is one of those moments where we all pause and ask ourselves what kind of country we want to live in.

One where we score points off tragedy. Or one where we reach for something better.

For me, the answer is clear.