January 20, 2009: Inauguration Experience

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).

Becoming a Delegate

Since Denver, I have had occasional questions about the process by which one becomes a delegate to a national party convention. Obviously the next opportunity won't be here until 2012, but there are things you can do in the meanwhile to put yourself in a good position to be elected. What I mention below applies to Massachusetts; rules may differ in other states.

If you aren't already, register as a Democrat. That's a basic requirement, and the only one, really, to become a national delegate. In Massachusetts, you can change your party affiliation at any time at your town or city clerk's office, or (if you're unenrolled in a party or "independent") after any election -- just ask at the polling place when you go to vote.

Join your city or town's Democratic committee. If you live in Massachusetts you can look up the leadership of your town committee here. Each town committee, by charter, should have several meetings each year -- some meet monthly -- as well as holding other activities that bring Democrats together -- speakers' nights, community events, fund-raisers for local candidates. In Massachusetts, town committee members are actually elected to their posts on the primary election ballot during presidential years (the one just held in September). But in the interim, most towns have an open-door policy and welcome new members at any time. It's usually not competitive for those who want to join -- most committees will welcome you with open arms!

Attend your city or town's February caucus. In Massachusetts in early February each year, town committees hold caucuses to elect delegates to the annual state Democratic convention. Ask the chair of the committee when yours will be held in 2009 -- s/he should know the exact schedule after Jan. 1. You need only to be a registered Democrat (not a member of the town committee) to attend the caucus

At the caucus, run for delegate to the state convention. In most towns, this is a fairly casual event, but unlike other committee meetings there are rules, nominations, and a voting procedure. This is a good "dry run" and a less informal way of learning the convention-nominating process. Again, you need only be a registered Democrat (not a town committee member) to run and be elected a state convention delegate.

Attend the state convention, whether or not you are a delegate. They're usually held on a weekend in late May or early June -- usually it's just a one-day commitment (Saturday), but there are parties and activities to attend on Friday night if you want to make a weekend of it. In odd-numbered years, the agenda is mostly policy issues and party rules, but there will be interesting speakers as well.

In even-numbered (election) years, the state convention ratifies a party platform as well as, importantly, candidates running for statewide office. In addition to filing papers with signatures of registered voters, candidates for positions like US senator or governor must be ratified by vote of at least 15% of the delegates at the state convention in order to be put on the primary-election ballot. In 2010, there'll be a governor's race, and with Gov. Deval Patrick planning to run for re-election, it should very interesting. In hotly contested races, the campaigns for various candidates will try to elect "slates" of delegates committed support their man or woman. I was a Patrick delegate to the 2006 state convention, which was one of the most interesting political experiences of my life. I also got involved in the Patrick campaign (I was town coordinator), and I credit that experience with making me a believer in the democratic (small-d) process and getting me involved in Democratic (capital-D) politics.

If you understand how caucuses in Massachusetts select delegates to the state convention, you've already got a good grounding in how to run for national delegate.

Naturally, the national-delegate election process is more competitive but will be easier if you're on the radar screen of the Democratic organization in your area. Like the state-level process, it takes place at a caucus. The schedule of delegate-selection caucuses is determined by the national party and the state party in consultation with the presidential candidates' campaigns.

This year, I made the decision to run as a national delegate in March. I signed and filed a simple one-page application with the state Democratic committee declaring my intention to run. I have to say that it helped that I was a name familiar in some local Democratic circles. It also gave heft to my candidacy that I had worked on the Obama campaign in my area during the run-up to the Massachusetts primary. (Which see all the good reasons to become involved locally now.)

The caucuses were held in April: the one that elected me also elected a male delegate, Mike Wheeler of Gloucester, both of us pledged to Senator Obama. Caucuses are held in each Congressional District (there are ten in Massachusetts), one for each Presidential candidate who receives a plurality of the vote in the primary (this year, both Clinton and Obama). So, all told, there were twenty caucuses this spring, all taking place in different locations around the state on Saturday, April 5.

All caucuses are held at the same time precisely so that voters attending them must make a choice: in the 6th Congressional District (which is mostly Essex County, our Congressman is John Tierney), the Clinton caucus was held in Saugus on April 5, and the Obama caucus was held in Topsfield at the same time. Only Democrats registered in your Congressional District can attend and vote at the caucuses. As a delegate-candidate, the name of the game is getting as many of them there as you can muster: family, friends, neighbors and relatives all can attend the caucus on your behalf and vote for you. (That's called "getting out the vote," or GOTV. I learned the best techniques to do that by working on the Patrick campaign in 2006. You see the benefits of political involvement early?) GOTV is really a matter of making lots of phone calls. writing notes and sending emails -- using any method you can to ask people to attend the caucus and vote for you. Your town committee can become a nexus of this support. It's good to ask for help from others who are running as delegates too. This process is actually a lot of fun (in my view, anyway).

Once you've declared to run, you'd be surprised how willing other Democrats will be to help you get elected. Put me in that boat: going to Denver was such a fantastic experience that I've made a commitment to help other first-timers go to the next DNC, in 2012. The state party is a resource, too: they post useful information on their web site, including forms and deadlines. The state party also held a training meeting in March for people intending to run for delegate. It was a good way to get basic questions answered and meet other serious contenders for delegate seats.

Denouement: Friday, August 29

I owe you one more "official" post, about the amazing events of yesterday evening.

Delegates were transported to Invesco Field by bus and brought to a special entrance for access to the ground floor of the field. If you were looking at the stage on TV, the delegations were arranged in something of a "T" on the field, the stage set up being at its crossbar, on the 50-yard line. (Mile-High Stadium is, of course, a football field first and foremost, home to the Denver Broncos. A large sculpture of a rearing horse crowns the stadium rooftop right above the scoreboard.) Massachusetts was to the leftmost end of the T's crossbar. This meant that much of our seating was obstructed by camera towers and lights -- we could see the right side of the stage set-up pretty well -- but thanks to the several large screens, no one missed a trick. In fact, the use of high-tech stage and sound sets made the whole atmosphere very 21st- century.

Besides, the air in the field was electric with excitement. A hot, humid afternoon turned beautifully clear and cooler, once the sun dipped behind the stadium walls. Seats in all four upper decks were chock-full by 5:15, nearly three hours before Sen. Obama was to speak.

On the scene:

* Gov. Michael Dukakis brought his entire family -- wife Kitty, two daughters and a son-in-law, and one lively grandson -- to the event. They were seated immediately in front of me. Except for their political celebrity (and preferential seating!), they were not unlike many other families one could glimpse in the stands -- entire families, babies, youngsters, oldsters.

* Senator Kerry worked the crowd, and acceded to the request of a group of veterans to pose for some pix information with an honor guard.

* Patrick Kennedy also worked the crowd and sat nearby for a while.

* Congressman Ed Markey, sponsor of Thursday morning's Mass. delegation breakfast, was in the crowd, as was Congresswoman Nikki Tsongas.

Lots of press roamed our seating area, the easiest to access from the outside gate, for background photo shots and crowd scenes. Joe Scarborough (MSNBC's "Morning Joe") and his crew stopped by the Mass. delegation to meet and greet.

Speakers and music were interspersed throughout the day, not unlike the convention program in the Pepsi Center on the previous three days. Early in the evening, Cheryl Crowe 's medley of songs was wonderful and popular with the crowd. But it took Stevie Wonder to really get us going. Groups of delegates were dancing in the aisles and the atmosphere was festive, not unlike a rock concert. Among the many who addressed the crowd Al Gore was a popular choice to speak on this last night, along with (conversely) the panel of voters from all over America who told why they were supporting Barack Obama for president. Best line, from an Indianan named Barney Smith, who had suffered economic hardship in the past eight years: "It's time for our government to think first of helping Barney Smith, not helping Smith Barney."

When the video of Barack Obama's life story aired, it calmed the festivities to a more serious mood appropriate for the speech to come. As the video ended, Senator Obama bounded onto the stage, and a roar of welcome and applause erupted that lasted for several minutes.

The speech itself was, of course, marvelous: specific, high-minded, purposeful and clear. The pundits have already pored over it at length, so I will just add my own sentiments here: I had the sense that I was witnessing greatness, that this was a moment against which time (political and otherwise) might be measured in future. And I was right: the next day, in a crowded Denver airport, we who were lucky enough to have heard Obama's speech live spotted one another sporting Obama t-shirts and buttons and asked one another, "Were you there last night?"

The Mass. delegation partied until the wee hours (so I'm told) at a skybox at Coors Field, the baseball park that's home to the Colorado Rockies. We had a full view of the resplendent field under the lights, wonderful food and drink, and the last of each other's company as a delegation.

Day 4: Thursday, August 28

10:45 am Attended the last Massachusetts delegation breakfast this morning, sponsored by Cong. Ed Markey. Again, a roster of terrific speakers: John Podesta (pres./CEO of American Progress), Lt.-Gov. Tim Murray, Sec. of State Bill Galvin, State Rep. Diane Wilkerson, and -- the coup de grace -- Sen. George McGovern, who's just as salty and spry as ever in his mid-80s. It was a thrill to shake the hand of the man who was the candidate for President in the first election in which I could vote (he got mine, too).

Channel 7 thrust a camera and mic in front of me and asked questions about my reactions to last night's speeches. So as not to let a local news broadcast "scoop" my own blog, I'll give you those impressions below.

A word about logistics. Our hotel, the Renaissance, is situated in Stapleton, some 20 minutes' drive from downtown Denver. This means that, once you head downtown, you're there for the duration. The Pepsi Center, where all of the convention's formal business was conducted, is actually not very large -- smaller than our own Fleet Center -- and (thanks to exremely tight security all around its perimeter) kind of isolated on its own "campus." Buses take delegates everywhere we need to go (the delegate's credential is like a ticket to heaven around here), but guests, press and other folks here in Denver just to be a part of it all are at considerably greater difficulty to get in to things and get around. Many of the "unofficial" meetings and caucuses have been held at the Colorado Convention Center, another large venue downtown. The various parties and social events, from luncheons to teas, cocktail parties and late-night bashes put on by each of the state delegations, are held downtown in various large restaurants and clubs that line 16th Street, the owntown dpedestrian zone. Now, having been here a few days, I have a general sense of how best to navigate the city. But I'm leaving tomorrow!

Commentary on last night:
The roll call
I arrived at the Pepsi Center, as on other days, for the 4 o'clock gavel-down -- but yesterday, the proceedings had already begun. From the delegates' perspective, and because most of us had availed ourselves of the early-voting option in the morning, the rollcall of states' votes was very much an afterthought. And that's how the campaign wanted it. Every delegate got to vote -- we all got literally to sign our names and place our x'es on the ballot next to our candidate. We all felt heard. The culmination of the rollcall on the convention floor last night, then, could become the focus of some real drama -- and the convention's best opportunity to unite us all.

It worked. And it was the highest point of the convention for me so far.

When Illinois ceded to New York and Hillary Clinton made the announcement to suspend the roll call's rules and nominate Barack Obama by acclamation, the loudest shouts of the week echoed through the hall. It was extremely moving for supporters of both camps, who felt this was the best possible result and a stroke of theatric genius toward party unity. For my part, I thought Senator Clinton was a really classy act.

Miscellanea:
I was thrilled that all 30 of New Hampshire's votes went to Barack Obama! I heard this news on one of the arena's TV monitors in the outer hallway as I was making my way to my seat. It vindicated slogging around in February slush. (Note: for the record, the Massachusetts roll call ended up as: 65 for Obama, 52 for Clinton.)

The speeches: Miscellaneous observations
* Seeing all the women of Congress on stage with Nancy Pelosi was just terrific.
* The remarks of Tammy Duckworth -- the Iraq war veteran from an Illinois military family and a likely appointee to complete Senator Obama's Senatorial term if he is elected President -- were especially incisive.
* One of the other minor speakers who made an impression was a retired Army general from New Hampshire (that part of his introduction caught my attention), who recently dropped his life-long registration in the Republican party to become a Democrat. Before we even knew why he had been chosen to speak, I turned to my seatmate, Worcester City Council Chair Rick Rushton, and said, "That guy's a Republican."
* Many of us wished that Senator John Kerry had spoken so forcefully as he did last night, during his own campaign for president four years ago.
* Bill Clinton, of course, did what he set out to do: the torch has officially been passed from the wildly popular (with the delegate crowd) former president to Barack Obama. He put Obama into an important historical context that blessed him with the mantle of success in the presidential role Obama hopes to earn on Nov. 4. Clinton was magisterial: his command of facts, his intellectual wattage and the extremely personal way he delivers his message wowed us all.
* In my book, the real star of the evening, even more than VP nominee Joe Biden himself, was Delaware Attorney General Beau Biden, in his moving and heartfelt introduction of his father. Through his words we all came to see Senator Biden in a new light -- and there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
* And how about Joe Biden's mother, and Barack Obama's uncle? The playing of Sister Sledge's popular tune "We Are Family" at the end of the evening was a suitable sentimental choice. The evening was one big group hug.

A funny moments of the evening --

Boston Mayor Tom Menino was sitting in front of me last night, patiently suffering being poked by the kid next to him with the American flags we all were waving, and braving an occasional blow from me, too, with the myriad of placards that we were given to wave. When Bill Clinton generously praised Barack Obama's VP choice of Joe Biden by saying, simply, that he "knocked one out of the park," Hizzoner turned with a look of surprise and said loudly to anyone who would listen, "He stole my line!"

Day 3: August 27, 2008

2:15 pm A few words on the scene in the convention hall, and the press.

The Mass. delegation's seating area is behind New York and below Arizona, both pretty spirited delegations in their own right. When you're looking at the speaker on the stage, we are to the left (speaker's right) and up in the "bowl" (i.e., not on the ground floor). These are really pretty good seats and capable of seeing everything very well, even if we're not as close to the on-stage action as some delegations -- Illinois and Delaware, for example -- being Obama's and Biden's home states respective, they get the plum spots. Our state sign (vertical lettered posts visible when cameras pan the delegations) is not always visible because it's tucked alongside a pretty tall wall.

The campaign hands out demonstration signs of all sorts at regular intervals. Last night we had five or six different signs passed out within the space of a few hours.

The VIP boxes in which Senator Biden and his family were seated for the past two nights are immediately behind us (behind Arizona's last rows) -- so our entire sector of the convention floor is getting lots of attention from the press. One CNN cameraman parked himself semi-permanently just two rows in front of me on the first night (he's probably the culprit for my 15 seconds of fame), to the great chagrin of the delegates in the row in front of me -- their view was blocked in several directions every time Mr. Camera decided to shoot B roll.

Right on the convention floor, the major US media outlets have small bullpen-like affairs built head-and-shoulders above the delegate seating. It is from one these makeshift perches that, for instance, David Gregory interviewed Gov. Bill Richardson last night before (during? after?) Hillary Clinton's speech. Wolf Blitzer and CNN have a similar set-up, as do CBS and ABC. Andrea Mitchell is a "roving reporter" -- I came face to face with her the first night as she was picking her way down to the main floor. (Yes, she is as petite and intense as she often comes across on TV, and let me just say makeup does wonders for aging skin.) Sam Donaldson nearly fell out of the balcony, calling some urgent matter to her attention.

All around the top ring of the convention center are press boxes and suites, prominently advertising their brand on large lightboards turned toward the convention hall: the BBC and Al-Jazeera are among the foreign press present.

When you sport a delegate's creds, it seems that you have to do very little to have a camera thrust in your face or to be asked a question by a (mostly very young) press person with a spiral notebook in hand.

11 am: At this morning's delegate breakfast, early-voting procedures for the delegate balloting were announced, which would help to move along the proceedings for this afternoon's all-important convention business.

Here I cast my vote for Barack Obama, and Mike Wheeler of Gloucester follows suit. We were in heady company: Governor Deval Patrick did the same, and thenkindly paused for a quick "photo op."






























Speakers at this morning's delegate breakfast included, among others, the ever-popular, ever-garrulous Cong. Barney Frank, Boston Mayor Tom Menino, and Maryland Governor Martin O'Malley.

Day 2, continued -- Tuesday, August 26

1:30 am. This evening's proceedings honestly left me deflated.

There was a long procession of governors who spoke, punctuated by the keynote speech by Gov. Mark Warner of Virginia. His speech was, I thought, underwhelming -- heartfelt, interesting, but not very original and just a tad too long.

Our own Deval Patrick's was the best of the lot (as usual), but even he seemed a bit off the mark tonight. His themes weren't new (to me), although admittedly they may have been to most. He didn't seem to pause for applause lines long enough to relish the many good moments. But it still made the Massachusetts delegation go a little nuts when he was introduced and when he was finished. He is incredibly popular with the entire delegation.

Gov. Schweitzer of Montana just seemed goofy to me, although most of my fellow delegates disagreed -- he seemed to serve the role of frothing people up just before Hillary's video was played (prelude to Chelsea Clinton's introduction of her mother).

When Hillary's video was played, the convention erupted around me -- but I was not a part of it. I was on the outside, looking in.

When Hillary began recounting her campaign's war stories, I was at first angered, thinking this shouldn't be about history, it should be about the future. But she hit her strongest points when she turned these stories into reasons to support Barack Obama -- her "Were you in this campaign just for me?" series of questions became vindications of how close the two candidates really are on the issues, and should have robbed her supporters of any lingering reason to withdraw or not support Obama. Her best line in my book was, "No way, no how, no McCain."

Still I have this lingering disbelief. And I am nervous about the denouement.

The after-hours party was actually the highlight for me, when Deval Patrick turned up at the restaurant and I had a chance to greet him and congratulate him on his speech.

Worrisome report: a fellow (Obama supporter) delegate from the Mass. delegation was stopped on her way into the convention hall and asked to sign a pledge to insist on a roll-call vote for Hillary Clinton. She refused.

Day 2: Tuesday, August 26

3:40 pm

Another breakfast roster of stellar speakers started the day for the Massachusetts delegation:

Al Franken, candidate for US Senate from Minnesota, was hilarious, incisive -- and sensible. Hope he wins.

Robert Kennedy, Jr., opined about the energy crisis with a good deal of passion and vintage Kennedy style. His two sons, both 20-somethings, accompanied him -- both are involved politically in state or national campaigns.

Gov. Michael Dukakis remarked with characteristic humor and liberal umbrage on subjects as varied as our crumbling transportation infrastructure, to John McCain's mean streak, to why we should all volunteer in grassroots capacities during the fall campaign.

Rumors:

* Gov. Deval Patrick's speech has moved to a prime time spot.

* Some Clinton delegates still want to cast their votes, and will probably have a symbolic opportunity to do so.

* Boston may have its own brand-new liberal talk radio in a few months' time. Boston comedy favorites like Jimmy Tingle will be tapped to offer his talent on air.