CLEVELAND – John Greytok, from Austin, Texas, said he didn’t know what to expect this week.

Sitting in a charter bus going to the Quicken Loans arena on the first day of the Republican National Convention, Greytok and others in the Texas delegation passed a couple hundred anti-Donald Trump protesters who were chanting.

But that’s not what had Greytok’s attention.

He pointed to the rooftop of a building overlooking the protest – and the silhouettes of men carrying high-powered weapons.

Greytok said he had both a sense of comfort that law enforcement was present, and concern that they had to be positioned that way in case of God-knows-what.

The GOP convention opened generally peacefully. As of Monday afternoon, there were no serious clashes involving protesters and thankfully no new tragedies to add to what has seemed to be near-daily strife around the country.

Some of the day’s most tense moments occurred on the arena floor, where chanting broke out amid a failed challenge of the GOP rules by anti-Trump delegates.

However, on the streets, police officers walking in groups portended the potential for trouble in a city where thousands of people had gathered, bringing with them strong and conflicting opinions.

As the Texas delegates boarded their bus to the arena, a woman with a bull-horn taunted them, combining a profanity and “Trump.”

“Go back to Texas,” she yelled, mostly without response from the delegates.

“We’re good at ignoring hate,” said Drinda Randall, from Plano, Texas.

Greytok said he was surprised to see the protesters there.

“I didn’t realize they were going to be across the street from our hotel,” he said during an uneventful ride that was less than a mile long.

Cleveland police reported no major incidents. Other delegations, including those from Kentucky and Georgia, reported no problems.

Aboard the bus, the Texans were accompanied by a Cleveland police officer wearing a vest that said “Gang Unit.”

He stood at the front of the bus, just in case.

More protesters were massed outside of the Quicken Loans arena. After a challenge by the ACLU, the city had allowed them closer to the site of the convention.

Even if there was little violence in the city throughout the day, protesters clashed verbally.

Late in the afternoon, at the Soldiers and Sailors Monument plaza a few blocks form the convention center, Cleveland police and troopers from California, Ohio, Indiana and Georgia rushed to the officially sanctioned place for political speakers to make their presence known.

Anti-abortion speakers had begun arguing with others.

Anti-Trump protesters and Trump’s supporters seemed to stay out of each other’s way.

At a small plaza across the street from the downtown Marriott hotel where the Texans are staying, about 200 protesters denounced the litany of polarizing remarks made by Trump about deporting immigrants who are living in the United States illegally and barring Muslims from entering the United States.

“The Muslims are under attack. What do we do? Fight back,” the mostly-white crowd chanted.

“I’m here against the increasingly fascist element on the rise,” said Josh Stacher, one of the protesters.

Stacher was confident enough that authorities would keep the peace, he brought his 12-year old daughter, Kim, who held a sign that read, “Stop Trump.”

About a mile away, at Settlers Landing, a sloped grassy park along the Cuyahoga River, about 200 protesters roared when Laura Wilkerson called for closing the border with Mexico and making immigrants “come in the right way.”

Wilkerson’s son, Joshua, was killed in 2010 by an immigrant here illegally, to whom he was giving a ride.

Among those cheering was Tyson Gross, who wore a “Hillary Clinton for Prison” T-shirt and wore a 19 mm Glock on his hip.

Pete Bryan, of Akron, in a “Bikers for Trump” shirt, said he and others were there to protect Trump supporters from Trump protesters

Shaking his head in regret, he said, “I think something is going to happen. I don’t know what. But something.”

Describing the political emotions of the city, as much as the sun battering Cleveland throughout the day, Bryan said, “It’s hot.”

Kery Murakami is the Washington, D.C. reporter for CNHI’s newspapers and websites. Reach him at kmurakami@cnhi.com

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