That was part of the appeal of Donald Trump. He’d grown up watching his father, a bigwig, shake hands with men in hard hats on construction sites. He knew the power of handshakes like that. Trump didn’t talk like a college boy. He cursed. He bragged. He threatened. He mispronounced words. He told tall tales that no one believed. He ate hamburgers, not sushi and salad. And he fought every slight. The college educated didn’t know what to make of him. But factory workers recognized him right away: Trump was a hillbilly in a suit.
