Still reeling.
Still reeling. MICHAEL DOUCETT

Earlier Wednesday the Stranger wrote about the shocked and angry residents of Capitol Hill—or rather, the relatively small number thereof—who gathered outside of bars and restaurants in the Pike/Pine corridor the night Donald Trump became president-elect of the United States.

Some stared into the middle distance with blank faces, some yelled into the night, some shouted in protest, and some did all three while listening to and dancing along with Chaotic Noise Marching Corps, a non-corporate brass street band.

I followed up with Luis Benito, 58, the trumpet player for Chaotic Noise, and he set me straight on what went down that evening.

Benito told me the band was expecting Hillary to win. They were all with her, and they wanted to celebrate the first woman in the Oval Office and the defeat of Trump. They imagined a huge party in the streets (remember the huge party that bloomed on Pike/Pine when Obama got elected?), and their loud, raucous, ebullient music typically draws crowds of party people who want to stomp around and shout and get their hearts beating mouse-fast.

Obviously that didn't happen.

They started playing around 8:00 p.m. hitting up their regular corners. The one by Rancho Bravo and Odd Fellows. And the other one by the Comet and Neumos.

At this point in the evening the results were just coming in, so no one was partying yet. The band decided to hit up Pramila Jayapal's election night party over at Optimism Brewing and found a welcome and "festive" atmosphere.

As they spilled back onto the streets they could hear cheers coming from the bars and assumed Clinton was picking up steam and would beat Trump, so they kept on playing.

Around 9:00 p.m., Benito says, the band took a break. That's when they heard the race wasn't going well for Clinton. A little later they heard she was going to lose.

The band huddled up and talked about whether they should continue playing their music; colorful, punk marching material that plays well at street parties but maybe not so well at sudden funerals for democracy.

The thought that was going through all of their heads, according to Benito: "Wow, this is fucked up, what do we do? We’re not just going to give up. We need to do something about this."

They decided the show should go on.

"We started playing all of our really angry songs," Benito says. They played "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys. "Know Your Enemy," by Rage Against the Machine. "Head Like a Hole," by Nine Inch Nails. "21st Century Schizoid Man," by King Crimson. "Mars, Bringer of War," by Gustav Holst. "Cemetery Girls," by Schoolyard Heroes.

When they questioned whether they should stop playing, surrounding audience members would encourage them to continue on.

"Be with us," Benito heard.

"People were rocking out to the songs— especially during the drum breakdowns. There was head-banging, screaming, and people getting up close into us. It was pretty powerful. But weird. Weird because we all had so much emotion about it," Benito says.

Around 10:00 p.m., as Clinton's firewall was all but extinguished, Chaotic Noise was playing for around 50-75 people on the corner of 10th and Pike. The band would pause to lead or join a “Fuck Trump” chant. A guy with a Trump mask set it on fire.

There was a moment around 11:00 p.m. where they thought they should quit again, but again people told them to play on.

For the band, creating a cathartic experience on the street during one of our republic's dimmer hours was a meaningful thing to do.

"The energy we got from the crowd and the energy we gave to the crowd was soothing, but it also allowed us to rage. And we needed that," he said.

At the peak of the evening's emotions (in that corner of the city, at least), people were spilling out into the street and blocking traffic, but Benito says he was surprised to see how restrained the cops were.

"They did their jobs without being assholes," he said. "I think back and wonder if that would have been the case a couple years ago."

I think forward and hope that it will be.