Bryant Burton was snuggled up with his one-year-old Staffordshire terrier, Baby, watching the US presidential debate on Tuesday, when Donald Trump uttered the words that thrust his hometown of Springfield, Ohio, into the centre of America’s election maw — and may have forever besmirched its reputation.
“In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs — the people that came in — they’re eating the cats. They’re eating the pets of the people that live there,” Trump said, repeating a widely debunked internet rumour about the town’s Haitian immigrants.
Trump’s running mate, Ohio senator JD Vance, had aired similar claims on social media a day earlier. “Reports now show that people have had their pets abducted and eaten by people who shouldn’t be in this country. Where is our border tsar?” he posted on X.
“I was appalled. How dare they disparage this community,” Burton said, as Baby lolled at his feet. “They’re trying to scare people. It’s just thuggish, red-neck tactics.”
Perhaps. But they have been effective. Despite efforts by the mayor and police to quash the pet-eating rumour, Springfield is sliding into hysteria.
Aurora Lemkhul, 68, said she had taken to counting ducks around town because she fears that the Haitians, who began arriving in large numbers four years ago as the turmoil in their homeland escalated, are either eating them or perhaps using them for ritualistic purposes.
“No, I haven’t seen anybody eat anything,” she conceded. “Are they disappearing? Yes. And it’s gotten progressively worse.”
Tiffany, a 33-year-old Springfield woman, who declined to provide her surname, is convinced that Haitians nabbed her Yorkie, Desia, who disappeared about a year ago. “In my heart, I believe they took her,” she said, dismissing the possibility of a fox.
The sleepy Midwestern town has been beset by white nationalists, their faces concealed by masks, parading through its downtown, urging followers to “reclaim America”. On Thursday, the City Hall was evacuated due to a bomb threat.
Meanwhile, at the Rose Goute creole restaurant, Romane Pierre, the Haitian manager, has been besieged by prank calls from people asking if he serves dogs and cats. A recent Google review, since deleted, praised its barbecue cat.
“It’s really a shock for me,” said Pierre, 41, of the rumours. “Some of the Haitians don’t want to stay in Springfield any more because they’re scared.”
Springfield rises from the cornfields between Columbus and Dayton. It is, as one resident called it, “the micro of the macro” — a place that is so middle-American that fast-food chains tend to test new menu items here before rolling them out nationally.
Springfield once rivalled Chicago for industrial output but is now a classic rust-belt town. Its population has shrunk from 80,000 in the 1960s to just under 60,000 today, as manufacturing declined.
The town elders have strived to attract new employers, sprucing up the downtown and touting the low cost of living. They may have succeeded too well. New factories have arrived, including one set up by Topre, a Japanese auto parts manufacturer, and another by Dole, the food company. Amazon is planning a new warehouse.
But many of the low-wage jobs have served as a magnet for Haitians fleeing violence at home. An estimated 15,000 to 20,000 have arrived in Springfield in the past four years. They enjoy Temporary Protected Status, which allows them to work legally.
“A lot of Haitians came since 2022 because in Springfield you can find a job and it’s affordable,” said Pierre, who made his way from Florida in 2020 after abandoning the violence of Port-au-Prince.
The brisk foot traffic at Rose Goute, which opened a year ago, is a testament to the Haitian presence. On a recent afternoon the customers were predominantly young men, many wearing flip-flops. They all ordered takeaway food that Pierre bundled into plastic bags, leaving a sea of empty tables.
“They don’t have time,” he explained, “because they’re always working or sleeping”.
Many Springfield residents express sympathy for the Haitians’ plight and their willingness to do gruelling jobs that others would not. Instead, they fault the government for failing to anticipate the strain that such a large and sudden influx of immigrants would have on a small Midwestern town — be it overcrowded classrooms or hospitals.
“Our city government and our infrastructure wasn’t ready for them,” said Burton, whose father was mayor in the 1970s.
Housing, which was in short supply before the Haitians arrived, has become a particularly sore spot. Some people believe that landlords are evicting long-time residents so that they can raise the rent for groups of Haitian workers who will crowd into a single dwelling. Claims that the Haitians are poor drivers are widespread.
The anger came to a head a little more than a year ago when a Haitian man veered across the road, smashing his minivan into a school bus on the first day of classes. An 11-year-old boy, Aiden Clark, was killed.
His father, Nathan, has taken umbrage at Trump and Vance and other politicians and says they have used his son’s death for political gain. “My son was not murdered. He was accidentally killed by an immigrant from Haiti,” he declared at a council meeting on the day of the presidential debate.
Earlier that day, Mike DeWine, Ohio’s Republican governor, came to Springfield to soothe the community. He promised additional resources.
Then Trump spoke that evening. “It was shocking to me. I was wondering what happened to his brain that he would repeat that,” said Viles Dorsainvil, who works at a Haitian Community Help & Support Center. The low-slung building that doubles as a church was set up just six months ago and offers English classes and other services to try to bridge the cultural gap.
“It has escalated recently,” he said of the tensions in Springfield. “It’s very ugly.”
Bonnie Johnson, 57, a retiree who occasionally works a DoorDash shift, agreed, saying the town was on the verge of a civil war. “The people who are angry are angry that our own citizens aren’t being taken care of,” she said.
Much of the anger flares on social media, where rumours of pet eating have been bubbling for months.
“It’s split down the middle: One side will swear it’s true because they’re angry,” Johnson explained. “The other side could see it with their own eyes and still say it’s not true.” As for her own opinion, she remained quiet.
Outsiders are descending on Springfield to see for themselves and adding to the febrile atmosphere. Anthony Skinner, a self-described “guy that does all kinds of shit” — barbecue pitmaster, musician, podcaster — drove 45 minutes from Columbus to investigate. He has little faith in the mainstream media or social media.
By Thursday afternoon Skinner had spoken to several locals and was surveying the idyllic Snyder Park, where many ducks are said to have gone missing.
“I’ve been up and down this damn park. There are ducks doing just fine,” he reported. “An abundance of them.”
His conclusion? “We’re being fed a bunch of bullshit.”