ERIE, Pa. — I gleefully placed a checkmark next to my bucket list entry which reads “Attend Trump Rally” while still feeling the love emanating throughout the Erie Insurance Arena for our 45th president, Donald J. Trump.

As usual, the most difficult part of any Trump rally is getting there and getting in. So when I first heard three days prior to the event that President Trump was coming to Erie on Oct. 10, I dashed to my computer and printed off two tickets. I needn’t have bothered. Strange as it may seem, no one at the arena asked to see a ticket.

The morning of the rally, a huge curve was thrown into my game plan. Erie news flashes predicted a parking problem of colossal proportions with nearby parking garages closed to the public for security reasons. It was suggested to either use Uber or to self-feed parking meters through a cell phone app. Neither of these options is practical for seniors without smartphones.

In a bit of a panic, I decided I would park at the Millcreek Mall and take a taxi to the arena, which was nearly seven miles away. I called the Erie cab company from home for some info, and in a random act of kindness, the dispatcher offered me a spot free of charge in the cab company’s parking lot, a mere 12 blocks from the arena.

Bullet dodged!

The next hurdle to overcome was what to wear since I had no Trump paraphernalia. After three wardrobe changes, I settled on one of my favorites: a Mayberry t-shirt sporting Barney Fife’s face along with his oft-spoken advice to Sheriff Andy Taylor: Nip it in the bud!!

Accompanied by a dear friend and fellow Trumper brave enough to drive through whatever awaited us, we set off for Erie at 2:45 p.m. To our surprise, we not only encountered zero traffic jams en route, but also waited just two minutes for a cab which dropped us off one block from the arena.

Doors opened at 4 p.m. We joined the ever-snaking line about 4:20 for the 7 o’clock rally. After 40 minutes or so, it was time to enter the arena for the security check. I was a little unnerved to discover that it was not run-of-the-mill security officers screening the thousands of people streaming in, but rather bona fide Secret Service agents. What happened next caught me pleasantly off guard.

As I handed an agent my purse, he broke into a grin and exclaimed, “Barney’s THE MAN!” I responded with, “Funniest guy ever!” which was answered with a big thumbs-up. Having a Secret Service agent validate my t-shirt — priceless!

Although the arena was only about half full at the time, seat-saving was taken to a new level here which required us to roam around a good 20 minutes before we finally landed. It was frustrating, but I received a few more compliments on my t-shirt in the process. Mayberry rules!

I couldn’t help but smile when the lyrics of “Rocket Man” permeated the arena, but it wasn’t long before hunger pangs took over. Finding myself 20 minutes in at the slowest concession line in PA, I resolved to ride it out. While inching along at glacier speed, I overheard that the arena was filled to capacity and its doors locked at exactly 5:48 p.m.

After almost an hour in line, my request for two hot dogs was met with “We’re out of hot dog rolls.” As I stared blankly at the cashier, she quickly added, “So we’re offering a side of fries instead.” Having already noted that the ketchup dispenser was empty, I shrugged in surrender and hoofed it backed to my seat toting my bunless hot dogs and plain fries. The couple seated in front of us greeted me with, “We thought you went home.”

My hunger appeased, I readied myself for my first glimpse of The Donald in the flesh. Without question, I have found President Trump to be the most entertaining chief executive in my lifetime. And he didn’t disappoint. For one hour and six minutes he was electric, holding the audience in the palm of his hand, with everyone standing until other speakers took the podium. And unlike other cities, not a single protester was ejected from the arena.

Several highlights of the Trump speech addressed local issues. In response to the sea of “Trump digs coal” signs, the president explained that “unleashing the power of Pennsylvania shale and clean beautiful Pennsylvania coal is putting our miners and steelworkers back to work. American steel is now one of the hottest industries.”

When President Trump asked Congressman Mike Kelly what are the needs of the city of Erie, he was made aware that Presque Isle currently was a beach with no sand and had been closed all summer. “We’re going to get him the sand, OK?” President Trump told the crowd as the arena rocked with deafening cheers. At that moment, I nicknamed him “Mister Sandman.”

Feeling energized as we left the arena and with hope in our hearts for the future, my friend and I now confronted the practicalities of getting back home. A call to the cab company revealed that with so many roads blocked off, the wait could be an hour or more. Standing on a street corner after dark in a sketchy area of downtown Erie is not for the faint of heart. In true “Buddy, can you spare a dime?” fashion, a homeless man repeatedly tried to hit up my friend for $2 (factor in inflation). After 45 fruitless minutes, a post-rally cleanup worker took pity on us and gave us a ride to my car.

Safe at home, I turned on the 11 o’clock Erie news to relive the moment. I then fell asleep to sweet dreams of “Mister Sandman” making America great again.

To borrow a line from The Four Seasons, “Oh, what a night!”

Mary Ann Herrington is an OBSERVER correspondent. Comments are welcome and may be sent to faramah@roadrunner.com