On Monday, September 8, 2025, the federal courthouse in Fort Pierce, Florida, became the focal point of a trial that has captured national attention: the case of Ryan Wesley Routh, a 59-year-old Hawaii resident accused of attempting to assassinate Donald Trump nearly a year ago. With jury selection underway and a swirl of legal drama, the proceedings have already raised questions about courtroom conduct, judicial impartiality, and the extraordinary circumstances surrounding the case.
According to the Associated Press, Routh stood before a group of potential jurors, dressed in a gray sports coat, red tie, and khaki slacks, and offered an unusual apology: "Sorry for bringing you all in here." Representing himself, Routh has become a central figure in a legal saga as remarkable for its defendant’s tactics as for its high-profile target. U.S. District Judge Aileen Cannon, a Trump appointee who’s drawn scrutiny for her handling of other Trump-related cases, granted Routh’s request to serve as his own lawyer but insisted that court-appointed attorneys remain on standby.
Routh faces a battery of federal charges: attempting to assassinate a major presidential candidate, assaulting a federal officer, and several firearm violations. State charges of terrorism and attempted murder also loom. If convicted, he could spend the rest of his life behind bars. The charges stem from an incident on September 15, 2024, at the Trump International Golf Club in West Palm Beach, Florida. Prosecutors allege that Routh, after weeks of meticulous planning, hid in shrubbery on the golf course, rifle in hand, waiting for Trump. Before Trump came into his sights, a Secret Service agent spotted Routh. As detailed by NBC News, Routh allegedly aimed his rifle at the agent, who fired first. Routh dropped his weapon and fled without firing a shot, only to be apprehended shortly thereafter.
The trial is expected to last up to four weeks, though attorneys believe it might conclude sooner. Jury selection began with 180 potential jurors, whittled down over three days to a panel of 12 jurors and four alternates. Opening statements are scheduled to begin Thursday, September 11, 2025. Judge Cannon has made it clear that Routh will be allowed to question witnesses from a fixed podium but will not have free rein of the courtroom. "If you make any sudden movements, marshals will take decisive and quick action to respond," she warned, as reported by NBC News.
Routh’s approach to his defense has been unconventional, to put it mildly. In addition to attempting to subpoena Trump and requesting a former paramour to testify to his "gentleness" (a request the judge deemed "clearly absurd"), Routh has submitted a variety of motions and statements that veer from the standard legal script. He has disparaged Trump in court filings and on social media, referring to him as a "fragile victim," an "insecure ego idiot-mad fool," and even a "baboon." In one motion, Routh challenged Trump to a golfing duel, writing, "A round of golf with the racist pig, he wins he can execute me, I win I get his job. (sorry hillbilly Vance)," referencing Vice President JD Vance. Judge Cannon has repeatedly warned Routh that further outbursts or inappropriate behavior could result in the reinstatement of his standby counsel.
Courtroom drama aside, the prosecution’s case appears robust. As outlined by Gray DC, evidence expected at trial includes eyewitness testimony from those who allegedly saw Routh fleeing the scene, testimony from individuals who sold him the rifle, and a so-called confession letter. Prosecutors plan to present Routh’s text messages, internet search history, and security footage from the golf club. Notably, they also intend to introduce a portion of Routh’s "Dear World" letter, which reportedly stated, "This was an assassination attempt on Donald Trump but I am so sorry I failed you." Judge Cannon has yet to rule on which parts of this letter will be admissible.
Routh’s background paints a picture of a man accustomed to controversy and legal trouble. The Associated Press reports that, in his native Greensboro, North Carolina, Routh was arrested in 2002 for eluding a traffic stop and barricading himself from officers with a fully automatic machine gun and an explosive device. In 2010, police found more than 100 stolen items in a warehouse he owned. In both cases, he received either probation or a suspended sentence. More recently, Routh fashioned himself as a self-styled mercenary leader, recruiting would-be fighters for conflicts in Ukraine and beyond.
Though Routh once supported Trump, by 2020 he had soured on the former president, writing on social media, "I will be glad when you gone." He has also weighed in on international affairs, at one point requesting that Judge Cannon arrange a "prisoner swap" with Hamas or Iran so he could die "being of some use and save all this court mess." Cannon, for her part, rebuffed the request, stating there would be no talk of prisoner swaps during the trial.
Judge Aileen Cannon’s role in the trial has not gone unnoticed. She previously dismissed a separate criminal case against Trump, citing the alleged improper appointment of the special counsel. Her handling of that case drew national attention and criticism, particularly from those who viewed her as overly favorable to the former president. In the current trial, Cannon has sought to maintain order and impartiality, carefully controlling the scope of witness testimony and the conduct of the self-represented defendant.
Prosecutors, led by Assistant U.S. Attorney John Shipley, have assembled a 46-person potential witness list, including FBI and Secret Service agents. The judge has unsealed a 33-page exhibit list detailing evidence, including photos of Routh holding the same model of semi-automatic rifle found at the golf club. Routh, meanwhile, remains in federal custody without bail, allowed to appear in business attire rather than prison scrubs for the duration of the trial.
The incident at the heart of the trial occurred just nine weeks after Trump survived another assassination attempt while campaigning in Pennsylvania, where a gunman fired eight shots, grazing Trump’s ear before being killed by a Secret Service counter-sniper. The West Palm Beach plot, while ultimately unsuccessful, has added to the climate of political violence and heightened security concerns surrounding major candidates.
As the trial unfolds, the nation will be watching not just for the outcome, but for what it reveals about the state of political discourse, the security of public figures, and the workings of the American justice system under intense public scrutiny. The proceedings promise to be as unpredictable as the man at the center of them.
With jury selection nearly complete and opening arguments on the horizon, the courtroom in Fort Pierce stands as a stage for a case that is as much about the boundaries of law and order as it is about the individuals involved.
