You wake up before your alarm. No sunlight peaks through your window. It's far too early for that. You're confused for just a moment, and then you hear another explosion. It echoes in the night, rattling the walls in the window of your apartment. This is not the first bomb you've heard, and it sounds far enough away that you know the danger isn't a minute. That surprises you a little bit, the fact that you recognized it's not close.
You realize you've now heard enough explosions to have a pretty good ear for them, and when they're close enough to worry about. It's weird how quickly life in a war zone becomes just life. You get up, there's no sense trying to get back to sleep. As you stumble over to the kitchen to grind some coffee, you hear the crack of rifle fire. It's distant, too far enough away that it sounds almost like firecrackers, but you know it's not. You feel the grinder, put on the top
and press down. Nothing happens. You realize, belatedly your sleep fogged brain that the powers out again. You wonder which of the dozen different rebelent insurgents groups in your state might be responsible. You don't even bother to get out your phone and check the news. It doesn't really matter, and you've got shipped to do. It's still dark outside, and since you're already up, you might as well take advantage of the situation and beat the crowd to the
grocery store. As you close and lock your door behind you, you try to ignore the pop and shatter of not so distant gunfire. There are days when you do feel like doing something, maybe even joining your friends, but most days, like today, you've got shipped to do. It's an election year. Every candidate is doing their level best to not call this what it is, a civil war. You heard that phrase out on the street, though, more and more every day. You reach a crosswalk and start to step across on
the left. Your eyes are drawn to the massive bulk of a police bear cat as it trundles across the street parallel to you. A man sits up top in the couple up, his hands on a machine gun that for now has its nose pointed up in the air. He stares at you, and you try not to stare back. As you hurry along to the supermarket, you ask yourself the question you've asked almost every day for the last three years, How did it get this bad? Did that
seem far fetched? You outlandish? If so, let me try to show you why the preceding passage might well be reality for millions of Americans startlingly soon if something isn't done. The Second American Civil War doesn't sound like a crazy, distant possibility to me, and it hasn't for a while. I'm Robert Evans, and it's my job to help you see what I see. Two thousand sixteen was the first year I started seriously considering the possibility of a second
American Civil War. It was the year I reported on the major protests surrounding the most contentious election in modern American history. I was there at the r n C in the d n C, and at both I saw tremendous hatred on display. I also traveled to a Rack in two thousand sixteen to report on the Siege of Mosel. But nothing I saw there, nothing I saw anywhere that year scared me more than watching Alex Jones speak on the first day of the RNC. These are not liberals
welcome to It could happen here. The podcast where every season I take some fantastic, unlikely scenario and explain how it could happen, why it might be closer than you'd think, and how it will look when or if it comes Listen. It's subscribed on the I Heart Radio app, or wherever you get your podcasts