Alayna Shulman, Redding Record Searchlight

Last June, thousands waited on the blistering tarmac to welcome Donald Trump to a campaign rally in Redding, the biggest California city north of Sacramento. From the passionate support in the crowd, it could have been a scene out of West Virginia or rural Texas.

This isn’t the California that shows up blue on CNN graphics – it is, as the area’s assemblyman, Brian Dahle, declared to the crowd that day, “Trump country.”

Stretching through far Northern California to the border of Oregon, it’s also the as-yet mythical State of Jefferson, which some residents frustrated by big-city politicians hope to will into reality. Trump’s election brought elation here, boosting the spirits of rural conservatives who’ve been willing to go to any length to carve out an identity within blue California.

Jefferson’s proponents lay claim to a legitimate movement that will eventually succeed in forming a new state for neglected rural residents. Skeptics just see a libertarian pipe dream — a cultural identity given false political relevance by the outrage of its supporters.

“If we want to do something to change the dynamic in our lives and in our communities and stop our children from leaving … what we need to do is expand representation so that everybody has some," said Siskiyou County pilot Mark Baird, a leading spokesman for the movement.

The Jefferson dream has been around for a lot longer than its progressive counterpoint, the “Calexit” effort led by progressives who don’t see themselves represented in Donald Trump’s America.

But Calexit fits the state’s stereotype and reflects its political majority. For non-Californians who see the nation’s most populous state as the land of palm trees and Democrats, the idea of a largely Trump-supporting segment of California with its own movement for independence may be baffling.

Jefferson supporters revel in the contrast. They even have a mantra for it: “We want to add a star to the flag, not take one away.”

But some see the broader similarities between the groups, despite their ideological clashes.

“I think (Jefferson and Calexit are) spurred by similar emotions: feeling like there’s policy that’s being imposed on you from a distant government that is controlled by a governing coalition that you’re not a part of,” said Eric McGhee, a research fellow for the Public Policy Institute of California.

And the president of Yes California — Calexit's formal name — is one of them.

"We want to take Jefferson with us," Louis Marinelli said. "We want to get Sacramento out of the business of micromanaging California. We don't like the job that many of them are doing, either."

‘Trump country’?

In some ways, Jefferson is a miniature United States.

In Glenn and Colusa counties, farmland and a slow pace of life are much like what you'd find in the Midwest. Rural and ultra-conservative Lassen and Modoc counties reflect values found in the nation's South. The Sierra Nevada counties make up the area's historical region, much like the mid-Atlantic, but is full of Gold Rush towns with converted saloons rather than Colonial landmarks.

But politically, it’s more homogeneous.

While Jefferson is technically a nonpartisan movement, Trump won in 18 of the 21 California counties on its ever-evolving map — the current edition made up of the counties with residents who have filed declarations with the state to let them separate. Trump lost in the relatively bohemian counties of Lake, Nevada and Mendocino, but some Jefferson counties supported him in landslides. Modoc and Lassen had the highest Trump support in the state — more than 70 percent each.

To experts, it’s no surprise that stereotypically liberal California would have a conservative or libertarian faction. That's because most outsiders who picture a deep-blue California are thinking of its coastal, populated cities.

“It makes sense that there is a State of Jefferson movement, because that community is different from the major population centers, but different also from other sort of Republican and conservative areas of the state,” McGhee said. “You get up further north and into the interior, you see more of a kind of conservatism that’s a little bit more sort of libertarian-tinged, a little bit more, ‘Just keep the government away from me entirely.’”

While the results of the 2016 presidential election highlighted the political divide in the state, McGhee said it’s been around for decades.

Indeed, the idea of Jefferson came out of southern Oregon in the 1940s. Conceived on the eve of Pearl Harbor, its separatist message was drowned in the unity of World War II — but not forgotten.

Over the years, the movement turned from an effort to actually separate to a symbolic display of solidarity with others from the lesser-known parts of both states — more Rorschach test than litmus test.

“It was sort of this mythical, ideal place. … It was whatever people wanted to impress upon it,” said Kevin Hendrick, board chair for the Keep It California Political Action Committee, an organization dedicated to quashing the Jefferson movement. “It was sort of a way to feel part of a larger region where you have a commonality with others.”

But it gained clout from a faction of largely conservative residents again around the 2010s, re-emerging as a frequent topic of conversation at Tea Party meetings. The flag with two overlapping X shapes resurrected the founding idea that the region had been double-crossed by faraway politicians.

“Somewhere around then ... a different kind of people, more conservative and representing that side of the spectrum, embraced it as a possibility of a real thing,” said Hendrick, of coastal Del Norte County, where a ballot initiative to pursue Jefferson statehood failed.

Most Jeffersonians may be conservative, but they don’t like being confused with the GOP.

“The Republican Party hates us as much as the Democrats do,” Baird said.

People 'willing to try something different'

To Jefferson supporters, Calexit is backward. They see California — not the United States — as the problem.

“We love America, and that’s why we want to form a new state that follows the Constitution that California has been reluctant to,” Redding resident Sally Rapoza said.

The movement also is inherently different from Calexit because it's about boosting rural representation, Baird points out. Most of the land in the would-be state is represented in Congress by one man, Doug LaMalfa, while in the Los Angeles area alone, there are 20 or so Congressional representatives.

“We have so many agencies and fees that are not justified in our area, and probably some of the things we need, they don't need at all,” said welder Montie Carter, chairman of the Glenn County Jefferson Committee. “There’s no animosity — we just would like to be better represented.”

In their way, supporters of Calexit feel the same.

"Our goals are similar; we are coming at it from a left-wing perspective, they're coming at it from a right-wing perspective," said Marinelli of Yes California. "We see that as an opportunity to make a deal and do something for once instead of gridlock."

Marinelli acknowledged the challenge of trying to merge left-wing and right-wing movements into a common cause, but that's exactly why he wants to start with a "clean slate."

"The country is so broken and divided that people on both sides of the political spectrum can't come together," he said.

Hendrick believes both movements are a waste of time, and Jefferson specifically is better off as a cultural identity than a real state. The region’s high rate of poverty and low rate of college degrees would make it a social wasteland without California’s help, he and others argue.

Baird counters that Jefferson's economic indicators are only dismal because California has too many business and environmental regulations. The new state wouldn't, he said.

And while he rejects Calexit’s ideas, the progressive movement could actually help Jefferson, Baird said.

“I hope they try it, because if they do, we’ll get our state out of it,” Baird said. “All I can say is, if Calexit gains any legitimacy whatsoever from any official part of the California government, we know what to do.”

'Rural California is part of California'

At a meeting with Senate President Pro Tempore Kevin De Leon, Hendrick had a few words for the Los Angeles Democrat. And they easily could have come from Baird, Carter or Rapoza.

“Rural people are bearing the brunt of being set aside so we can keep the redwoods standing so San Francisco people can visit,” Hendrick paraphrased his comments.

“We have all the places you like to visit in the summer and we have the water, so we need to be part of California and you need to be a part of us, too.”

Hendrick sees that kind of advocacy for rural Northern California — respectful but assertive — as the path forward for all Californians, whatever frustrations may have them vying for either of the dueling independence movements in the state.

“Rural California is part of California,” he said.

And, like Marinelli, Hendrick believes the first step toward that is abandoning an "us-versus-them" mentality, whether the "them" is Republicans, Democrats, Jefferson or Calexit supporters.

“There was a time four or five years ago when Republicans and Democrats talked. We had the election, and then the election would be over, and we’d talk to each other. And we’ve sort of left that,” he said. “These are my neighbors, these people that think it’s a good idea, and I understand why they think it’s a good idea, because they’re desperate for something better."

Sierra County Supervisor Paul Roen also sees the good in working with what the area has. While he supports the idea of Jefferson culturally and hypothetically, he voted against pursuing independent statehood for his county.

“There’s a lot of support we need from the state. Why have a fight we can’t win?” Roen said. “It’s my job today to represent the people of Sierra County the best way I can, and that’s with working with what we have to work with today.”

But Jefferson supporters feel they’ve been betrayed one too many times by big-city politicians who neglect the area. As one example, Baird brings up the “fire fee” — proposed for rural homeowners by a Los Angeles politician — and a casino another politician from Southern California supported for Siskiyou County.

“Is it not your right as a person, as a human being, to be left alone by government at some point? I mean, when do you have the right to be left alone?” he said. “Here in California, never.”