So many have asked me, “How was it?” that I thought I would write down some of my impressions of being present in Washington, DC, on January 20, 2009, at the inauguration of Barack Obama as our 44th President. Although the experience was not what I had imagined or hoped for, it was spectacular and heart-rending in ways that I had not imagined nor dreamed of.Long and short: my friend Jayne and I were among the tens of thousands of purple-, silver- and blue-ticket holders who never got onto the Capitol Mall -- an experience which has prompted an official inquiry by Sen. Dianne Feinstein, who chaired the inaugural committee. Crowd control was abysmal to non-existent, the security gates were woefully ill-equipped to deal with the numbers of people, and the entire process quickly turned into a fiasco. We waited for three hours in a massive crowd that made virtually no forward movement, only grown larger even after the gates were to have opened as the clock ticked toward noon. Many people, we learned later, ended up stuck in the maelstrom for hours longer, unable to move fast enough (or at all) in the dense mob to escape to where they might at least hear the words of the oath broadcast on radio or TV.
Fortunately, we had a Plan B. I had received an email from my senators, Kennedy and Kerry, inviting constituents without tickets or other plans to view the proceedings from a couple of Senate committee-hearing rooms they’d reserved for that purpose. We hightailed it several blocks to the massive Dirksen Senate Office Building, cleared security (!) and climbed the stairs. Armed with a welcome cup of hot coffee, we settled into two of the last few remaining seats in one of the hearing rooms, joining a joyous crowd of Massachusetts supporters to watch the celebrations on a large-screen TV.
And it was absolutely wonderful.
The mood of the place -- indeed, of all Washington -- was not unlike the intimate familiarity that complete strangers have in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. We
all cheered, clapped and cried together. We became fast friends. We posed for each others’ pictures and swapped email addresses. Sitting next to me, an elegantly dressed 70-something supporter in a luxurious fur coat had every last detail on Michele Obama’s inaugural couture (“My brother designs clothing,” she confided). We nodded across the crowded room to two women we recognized from our plane flight the day before. When the television cameras focused on the stream of Senators and Congressmen filing onto the Capital dais, applause erupted for familiar legislators from Massachusetts – cheers went up for Congressmen Barney Frank and Ed Markey, Senators Kerry and Kennedy. (Later, boos and hisses would echo around the room as the camera caught former Vice-President Dick Cheney in his wheelchair, and as the Bushes departed.)The room went silent as the ceremonies got under way in earnest, and we all watched, rapt, as power was transferred with dignity and grace to Barack Hussein Obama, 44th President.
We oohed and ah'ed over Aretha's fabulous hat. "Doesn't she look fabulous?" "What a voice!" "Aretha, honey, you still got it!"
We hung onto every word of the oath of office -- even the stumbles.
We felt healed by beautiful music, and hopeful once again by masterful words.
We said "Amen!" as one at the end of the closing benediction, and "Good riddance!" as the Bushes' helicopter sped away overhead.
After the televised coverage of the swearing-in ceremony had concluded, an aide announced into a mic that Senator Kennedy invited constituents to visit his office. We had time to kill before our train back to Baltimore, so on we went. Walking the eerily quiet halls of those monumental government buildings is experience enough to impress. Kennedy’s office is chock-a-block full of pictures, plaques and memorabilia befitting the Lion of the Senate and patriarch of the Kennedy dynasty. We met one of the Senator’s aides. We spied a Kennedy great-nephew giving a tour to a clutch of people. We chatted with a couple from Ireland who’d come to Washington just then to participate and witness. We took a few pictures and signed the guestbook. What an unexpected treat this invitation had been! Then we turned to head back and face the crowds and another 2 ½-hour wait for a train to Baltimore.
Too bad, you’re probably saying; you went all that way for nothing. But I don't feel regretful in the least. I would do it all over again, in pretty much the same way, given another chance, if I knew I would come away feeling as content and whole as I now feel. I was there. I was a part of the swelling crowd. I cried alongside complete strangers. I walked the streets of Washington the same day that Barack Obama did, finally, as our new President.
Here's a wonderful montage of newspaper front pages from around the world, on January 20, 2009 (thanks to Joel Hariton for forwarding the link).
