Inauguration Day - January 20, 2009

Change has finally come to America.

As I tossed and turned last night trying to get a little sleep in the midst of my excitement and anticipation, thoughts kept racing through my head - What would the day would be like? Would my alarm go off in time? Would I be able to squeeze onto a train? Would I be able to see from my spot? At the same time, I was also contemplating the change that was about to happen to our country, and wondering what it must be like to be Barack and Michelle at this very moment in time.

I got up around 5:15 a.m. after my cell phone alarm chimed with my appropriate ring of Obama's voice from his 2004 speech at the Democratic Convention - "There is not a liberal America, and a conservative America, there is the UNITED STATES of America." Since I don't hop right out of bed, he continued on, "There is not a black America, or a white America, there is the United States of America." Perfect thoughts for the start of this incredible day, right from the man himself who has injected all this change, unity, patriotism and the making of history into our hearts.

I had also signed up for the text message METRO updates, crafted in the same fashion as much of the Obama campaign - informative updates right when you need them, delivered personally to my cell phone. At 5:30 a.m. it sent me a text message that several METRO station parking areas were already full, and added a reminder to please stay clear of the doors when boarding the train. Yikes! I stepped up the mostly unnecessary primping for the day and was out the door around 6. I arrived at the train station at 6:15, dismayed that the Washington Post newspaper vending machines were already empty. You're kidding me... just a foreshadowing of things to come.

However, I got right through the turnstyle since all the METRO newbies were over at the machines trying to figure out how to get a ticket out of it. I was loaded onto an almost completely full train - standing room only. (Over 1 million people rode the METRO today) But hey, there's always room for one more, right? So there I stood, on my way to one the most historical and open inauguration in history.

We stopped at random places on the tracks every so often because of the amount of trains already full and running. After I got my bearings, figured out I needed to exit at the stop after the Smithsonian to be near the silver entrance gate, the train announcer came on and told us that stop had been closed due to overcrowding. Ok, so I'll get off at the stop before that and walk a bit. Again, the announcer came on - they had closed that stop too. I was forced to exit at the Federal Triangle stop, which was completely opposite of where I needed to be on the National Mall. I needed to be on the east side, this was far west. After exiting and finally reaching fresh air right before 8 a.m., I got pointed in my direction and took off. I found a spot to cross over the mall and took in the HUGE crowds already claiming their patch of grass with their blankets and enjoying the rerun of the Lincoln Memorial Concert playing on all the jumbo-trons. When I finally did reach Independence Avenue, I was met with Police and a big, silver fence. You're kidding me. They informed me I had to continue 2 blocks south to get around the fence, then make my way back up Independence Avenue (at least 8 blocks or more from there) to enter the security line. You're kidding me (again). Time was ticking.

I actually took a moment, hit a fresh port-a-pottie, (the only one I would use all day) buttoned up and took off. After I turned the block and was back heading in the correct direction, I came to the realization that every charter bus that was in Washington DC at this moment was parked up and down Independence Avenue, and had just unloaded. None of them had an official ticket, so they were all being directed to where I had just come from. You're kidding me.

As I looked down the street, I saw the most massive crowd I've ever seen in my life, headed right towards me. Police were lined up and down the streets, making a small pathway for emergency vehicles in between, which buzzed in and out occasionally. After saying "excuse me... two way traffic" about a million times, I finally stepped into the culvert between the curb and the buses, and a zillion people on the sidewalk. I gave the buses I passed a good polishing with my coat along the way and finally found an opening to escape out to. After nearly running at full pace for the next 6 blocks, dodging bus loads of boy scouts and other traffic coming at me on foot, I could finally see the silver gate entrance. I was sweating by then in my 3 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of pants, 4 shirts and scarves, along with my imaginary partridge in a pear tree guiding my way.

I packed immediately into this ridiculous line, unaware that it would be my prison for the next nearly 3 hours. All I could see was a sea of people ahead of me. Apparently somewhere, about a football field ahead of us was the daunting secret service security check. We squeezed in, pushed, nudged, and at several moments I could not raise my hands up above my waist because we were packed in so tight. I really had to get a drink of water, reached down and felt out my water bottle when the guy ahead of me jumped. Oops. We were very cozy to say the least. The mood was still cheery among the crowd, but not at much as most of the regular mall-goers. I was with the group who somehow received a ticket from their senators or congressmen, stood in line for it yesterday, and held it in our hand, which made us feel somewhat elite and special. But guess what, we were not treated elitely in any way - there was no drop off or pick up, not to mention a chair waiting at the end of the yellow brick road. (Hence the minor crabbiness errupting from some adorning mink coats and large diamonds.)

I also was lamenting my shortness, when a tall guy behind me said, "Geez, it stinks to be so tall. I'm catching all the wind up here and it's really freezing." Ok, well, there's always a silver lining. I was once again thankful to be short and shielded from the bone-chilling winds and pressed on. I studied every brick on the outside of the Indian American Museum for a while, as we crawled past it over the next eternal hours. This was not an experience for the faint of heart. Many people gave it all up right there, pushing their way back through the crowd, hoping to find a spot to see without having to endure all this (like the spot awaiting back in their hotel room). We tried cheering some of them on, "you've come all this way, stood in line for your ticket, gotten this far..." but still they left in droves. Several elderly black women with walkers or wheelchairs also had to be led out because they could not endure the crowd. One African-American man put it so well (in my best Eddie Murphy tone of voice), "There is just some places momma DON'T get to go, and this is one of them. You don't bring momma out here. You tell her to sit her black ___ on the couch and watch it on TV." I love it. He cracked us all up for a while and raised our spirits. But I can certainly understand why momma WANTED to be here. Momma never thought she would live to see this day. I was very sad each time MOMMA had to leave.

The crowd started to become unruley when the Marine Band began to play and we still weren't moving much. We inched through some more, some more people left, and we pressed on some more. Finally, around 11:15 when we were all fearful we weren't even going to get in, the gates opened and we all went running. I don't know if the first 10,000 people in our section had been searched really well and they all of a sudden decided the rest of us were ok, but we were lightly frisked, another peek into the bag and in we went, right on time at 11:30. I was fairly far back on the grass by now, disappointed that Barack had forgotten to set out my folding chair. I had this elite silver ticket, after all. I settled in just behind the reflecting pool (because that is as far as I could get) and unfortunately right in front of the first aid tent entrance. However, I could see the jumbo-tron and a far-off glimpse of the capitol, and hear well. The silver section was a cruel joke - people that thought they were getting an elite seat, but really just got a pre-reserved spot on the mall lawn a little closer than everyone else. I could have done that a lot farther back and enjoyed the concert again in the process.

Once we all got smushed into our plot of grass, we settled on the screen shots above. The crowd was excited and let out huge cheers as the motorcade coming down Pennsylvania Avenue appeared on the jumbo-tron. O-Bam-A and Yes We Can chants broke out often. All the dignitaries, senators and congressmen were shown and announced as they came in. Joe Lieberman received an outpouring of "booos" that were unsettling when he appeared on the screen. Colin Powell got hearty rounds of cheers and chants. They still love Bill, and Hillary, as flags waved and cheers poured out when they entered. John McCain got chuckles. Dick Chaney obtained loud and abnoxious booos, and Laura Bush took in some light applause. However, President Bush was booed very loudly several times by most of the crowd. Though I am not a fan, and was as excited to see him leave as anyone else, he was still our President for 8 years, gave his service, and deserved the respect of an outgoing President, if only for a few more minutes.

Michelle and the girls of course received loud cheers and outpourings of support. As Obama was shown on the screen coming into the capitol, he looked stoic and reflective, completely serious and I'm sure humbled by what awaited him. Rev. Rick Warren was introduced for the invocation, which was moving, touching and very real. At the end of the invocation, he began the Lord's Prayer. This was a powerful moment as black, white, hispanic, American, Irish, Jewish, Muslim and people from all religions and walks of life hushed the National Mall and stood together and prayed to God and for our new President. Joe Biden was sworn in, to loud cheers. Then Aretha Franklin came out and sang as everyone in the crowd sang along and waved flags. Chief Justice was invited forward and Obama was ready to be sworn in. Apparently the Chief didn't feel the need for notes, and stumbled his lines, which Obama was supposed to repeat. (Right wing conspiracy to make the whole thing null and void???). Obama hestitated, catching the error and waited for the correction as Michelle held the small, red Bible where Barack's hand was placed, and which Abraham Lincoln was also sworn in with. Cheers and chants errupted, people cried, hugged, smiled, and looked on in awe, unable to believe they were all here, standing together and witnessing this historical moment.

This is a day I will never forget. I was there to witness not only an elegant, graceful and seriously grand transition of power from one administration to the next, for the highest office in the land and argueably the most powerful leader in the world, but a mending of wrongs that have gone on for generations - - - all of a sudden healed by the embracing of Barack Obama by millions of Americans right here, right now. Our first African American President, our new symbol of hope and change. He has a lot of expectations to live up to, and I think he is up to the challenge.

I believe people are so enamoured by him because he embodies us all in some way. He was a kid from the block. An African American who had to try a little harder to succeed than many of the rest of us. Someone who has worked with the poor and helped people on the streets. Lived a real life full of pain and challenges. Met his wife, fell in love, and had a beautiful family, which he treasures with all his heart. Raised by a single parent. Had a father who left him. Rose above it all, never made it about race, but succeeded on who he is, what he believes in and what he hopes and dreams for his children and for all of America. He makes people want to be smarter, to be more involved. To be more accountable and responsible for their actions. People who never cared about politics stood together on the lawn today, where there hadn't been a crowd like this in DC since Martin Luther King's address. I hope he and Michelle continue to inspire and involve Americans and the world throughout the next four years. Together we can.

After the ceremony people were jubilant. Celebrating, singing, dancing, cheering, crying, hugging.
From his speech...
"...with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations." Congratulations Dr. King. I'm sure you are smiling today along with the rest of us. The dream lives and has been realized.