I was yards from the stage during the attempted Trump assassination — this is what it was like to witness history

BUTLER, Pa. — I crammed myself up onto the stairs leading to the risers for the press just yards from the stage as former President Donald Trump arrived at the Butler Farm Show fairgrounds around 6 p.m. Saturday.

Equipped with only my cell phone as I anticipated Trump’s signature entrance to Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA,” I snapped a selfie with hundreds of rallygoers on the ground behind me.

The photo was meant for posterity, simply documenting my campaign travels.

Little did I know how signifcant the night would be.

Fewer than 30 minutes after taking that photo, I heard three shots ring out somewhere to my left.

We now know shots were fired by 20-year-old Thomas Matthew Crooks of nearby Bethel Park from a rooftop with a clear sight to the stage.

Trump’s right ear was grazed by a bullet, while an attendee in the line of fire was killed.

A sense of dazed chaos is the only way I can describe what followed.

Some rally-goers hugged and wept. Others stood in stunned silence, showing surprisingly little urgency to run for cover.

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A small group of men turned their grief toward reporters on the risers, blaming the media for encouraging rhetoric they believed had caused a would-be assassin to take his shot.

One even grumbled about the start of a “civil war,” as it was still unclear how badly Trump was hurt.

Moments before being shot, Trump said he really did not need to be running for president and that maybe he should retire somewhere with a great view of the ocean.

But here he was, a New York real-estate titan in rural Pennsylvania just two days before the Republican National Convention — an event that will almost certainly nominate him for president a third straight time.

After the shooting, Trump was treated at Butler Memorial Hospital, and I and other reporters descended on the facility before sunset. No one was allowed on hospital grounds, and rooftop snipers kept a watchful eye on all of us in a gravel parking lot across the street.

A lone woman on the sidewalk near the hospital entrance held a distasteful sign reading, “Wishing Trump a long, terrible recovery!”

Positive news would come from Trump’s campaign and the Secret Service, which issued respective statements saying he was “fine” and “safe.”

Around 9 p.m., I recorded a large helicopter leaving the hospital. Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro would later confirm that Trump was gone from the area.

The next day, on Sunday morning, the scene inside Butler Farm Show fairgrounds was unexpectedly relaxed.

Just before 8 a.m., a Pennsylvania State Police trooper blocked the entrance to the fairgrounds, so several reporters gathered along the side of Meridian Road, located directly east of the rally site.

Another entrance to the fairgrounds, to its south from Buttercup Lane, was much less restricted, allowing me to gain entry a short time later.

In the large grassy area used for parking by rally attendees, I saw trash and a handful of cars littering the landscape. Fewer reporters were in this area, though some white utility trucks were seen going in and out of a gated area closer to the rally site.

Looking west from the gates, a makeshift helipad used to evacuate those injured during the shooting was still intact.

Dozens of small airport-hangar-style buildings with rooftops such as the one used by Crooks are present on the site — a fact that has and will likely continue to prompt concerns about the safety of the venue chosen for such an event.

Speaking with a colleague, I talked about how I had just witnessed history.

It was one of those, “Where were you when…” moments — and I happened to be there.