| Eric Lach, who was one of very few journalists admitted into the courtroom yesterday for Donald Trump’s arraignment, shares a behind-the-scenes report about how he got inside. Early on Tuesday morning, I was one of maybe two hundred members of the press and public who were led into the Wilkie D. Ferguson, Jr., federal courthouse, in Miami. The courthouse is a shiny blue glass building downtown—it could play itself in a “Miami Vice” movie. The deal was, we’d spend the morning waiting in the jury assembly room, on the fifth floor. Everyone was asked for a business card, or a piece of paper with their name on it. Before the hearing was to begin, we were promised, the clerk of the court would draw names out of a hat or some such, and tell us who’d been chosen to go into the actual courtroom, on the thirteenth floor. Those unlucky unchosen would be able to watch the proceedings from the jury assembly room, via closed-circuit TV. As they did in Manhattan, where Trump was arraigned on local charges in April, many members of the press camped out overnight in anticipation of the arraignment, and some outlets even hired line sitters. But the process for getting into the courtroom in Miami, and the whole vibe in terms of security and procedure, was much more coherent and relaxed than it had been in New York. We were led into the jury assembly room around 8:30 A.M., and then sat around, whiling away the hours. From the assembly room’s windows, we could peer through the blinds and see the crowd of Trump supporters in red who had gathered outside in the sun. We’d agreed not to bring electronic devices into the courthouse, and some of the reporters tried valiantly to contact their editors via a bank of still-operational pay phones by the bathrooms. We were allowed up to the seventh floor, where the cafeteria was open. They made a decent breakfast burrito. The operator of the café had flyers available next to the register, offering his services as a real-estate agent. Around 2 P.M., activity outside the courthouse indicated that Trump’s motorcade had arrived. The name-drawing began, and the chosen few, which turned out to be about forty-five people, were escorted by U.S. marshals up to the thirteenth floor. I was one of the final few journalists allowed up. As I entered the hushed courtroom, the judge was already speaking. Trump was seated between his lawyers. The two benches behind him were packed with Secret Service agents. I sat down and got my notebook out of my backpack as quietly as I could. To my surprise, Trump was nearly as quiet as those of us seated in the gallery, saying nothing out loud during the entire arraignment, beyond whispering occasionally to his attorney. | 
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