Going Hungry in Trump’s Economy

D riving through Arizona on a Saturday morning, I saw a line of cars nearly a mile long stopped along a high-desert highway.

I slowed, thinking there had been an accident.

Then I realized that all of those people were waiting in line for food.

Weeks later, I went back to the area and met Kandy Soto.

The retired administrative aide and courtroom clerk had once been a regular donor to her local food bank.

But when I met her last month, she was a recipient of other people’s generosity, preparing to fill a bag with groceries that her family could no longer afford.

Soto told me that the cost of canned vegetables seemed to creep up nearly every time she went to the store.

After checking prices against her budget, she might buy some cheap fish fillets or canned meats, but beef or poultry were out of the question.

Sometimes she left empty-handed.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

When she voted for Donald Trump two years ago, Soto counted on him to fulfill his promise to “make America affordable again” following painful spikes in inflation under Joe Biden.

She wonders what kind of life Trump and his family are living, because she sees no signs of the roaring economy he talks about.

Her own family has had a run of bad luck: Her husband had to stop working after injuring his neck and requiring surgery.

Then they learned that their modest retirement income made them ineligible for public assistance.