But Saturday was a family day. I was with my son, my daughter-in-law, and two little boys under five years old. We did not want my grandchildren anywhere near fascists. The Portland police bureau had published a map promising that OMSI, across the river from the planned site of the rally, would be safe. Alas, as police defused the main rally, some of the fascists found their way across the river and marched past the museum.

While the kids played in the beautiful Science Playground, the public-address system announced that the museum was in “lockup”; no one could enter or leave until further notice. We could not see the street; none of the staff knew what was going on; no one could tell us how long the lockup would last; no one knew whether the marchers might assemble in front of the museum, making escape impossible.

In any event, the group of marchers near the museum was apparently relatively small; within a few minutes, the lockup was lifted. But the walk back to the light-rail system through a stark industrial area was, for me at least, heart-in-mouth. We had no place to hide on the street if something went wrong. When we made it back to our hotel, I felt relief, unreality, and fury.

Garrett Epps: The stuff of dystopian nightmare

Citywide, the rally was largely anticlimactic; Portland police kept marchers and counterprotesters separate. Only after the main event ended did sporadic violence occur. Willamette Week described the aftermath as

a game of cat-and-mouse that felt more like a Tom and Jerry cartoon—and kept the two groups more than a mile apart at all times, even as some said they wanted a confrontation. Police made 13 arrests, and the few moments of violence arrived mainly as the right-wing groups attempted to leave downtown in two small buses. Antifascists were seen on videos shattering the bus windows, and a right-wing protester appeared to attack the leftists from inside the bus with a hammer.

I am glad the violence was not worse. But I’m sure I will never forget that moment in the museum. It was the second time in one week that my family’s vacation was disrupted by groups simulating a war zone on Oregon streets. The previous Saturday, we had planned to show my grandchildren the sheer magic of Eugene’s Saturday Market, where artisans sell their own creations, local bands perform, and farmers offer fresh produce from all over the lush Willamette Valley. But then a shadowy group calling itself “God, Guns, and Trump” (later changed to “God, Guns, and Liberty”) announced a pro-gun rally across the street from the market. The group’s Facebook post proclaimed that only “bold conservatives” should attend; those who had no firearms, it suggested, should buy them for the occasion. The group told those who wanted to march with Confederate or Nazi flags to stay away.