Wow wow where do start “I was there man, I was there!” I was on the Mall in Washington DC on Jan 20, 2009. I was on the Mall in Washington DC for the inauguration of America’s 44th president, Barack Hussein Obama. I was on the Mall with my dear friend Leigh Angel and 2 million others, who as my friend Brian said, were “beaming with joy.” The sun was shining and the air was cold. I wore Obama gloves, a fur hat from Russian, ski pants over my jeans and the only reason my feet didn’t freeze was because I purchased toe warmers from a guy on the Metro on the way there. My red long sleeve t-shirt had pictures of Martin Luther King Jr. and Obama and said “ The Dream is Real.” Leigh not a big fan of the “matching clothes thing” was wearing the identical shirt that I picked up for $2.99 at a discount store in NYC. My sister and brother-in-law asked me why I was bothering to go down, like, couldn’t I just watch it on TV? As Tom Shroder wrote in the inaugural edition of the Washington Post Magazine, “The inauguration of Barack Obama as our 44th president is no small slice of history. It’s a whole pie’s worth.” You don’t get the whole pie watching it on TV. I was getting my whole pie á la mode! I was on the Mall on Washington DC on Jan 20, 2009 when the first black president of these United State was sworn into office after winning an election in which he was judged by the content of his character and not the color of his skin. Martin Luther King Jr’s dream is real. I was there. I was actually present where and when history was being made.
I remember when I was working for the Obama campaign in Macungie PA, doing whatever needed to be done in those last days leading up to Election Day. I was holding ONLY the vision of Obama winning. I KNEW he would win, many fellow volunteers expressed being nervous. I was not nervous. With every “Vote Today” door hanger I hung and every Obama/Biden lawn sign I placed, I knew. And at that time I thought to myself, “I really should book a bed at the Hostel in DC for inauguration day.” I didn’t. Needless to say when I did finally get around to calling – well yeah, guess what, sold out. Then I thought about the Hostel in Baltimore and when I mentioned that to Leigh, my partner in “democracy and activism” crime, she said she had a dear friend who lived there. So the inauguration plans were set in motion and somehow being in Baltimore, having to negotiate buses, trains, taxis, and the metro and Kathryn’s generous chauffeuring made the experience THAT much more of an adventure.
January 20, 2009
My cell phone alarm went off at 5:15 AM. Kathryn and her daughter Annika were driving us to Baltimore’s Camden Station where Leigh and I were catching a 6:20 AM MARC train to Washington’s Union Station. Leigh and Kathryn worked their magic on Craigs List and Ebay a week before to finally procure two round-trip tickets on the MARC, which is normally a commuter train but on inauguration day was “reserved tickets” only. It was unclear if our tickets were for the 6:20 AM or 7:40 AM and I was a little concerned that the tickets wouldn’t work at all (being that we got them from some guy on Craigs List). We get lost on our way to Camden Station, taking wrong turns and GPS re-calculating, we probably should have left earlier. We arrive at the station and the 6:20 train has departed, we are screwed. Neither Leigh or I panic, we get on line for the 6:40 and decide to plead ignorance like we are “supposed” to be on the 6:40 and “these tickets are so confusing”. We get to the head of the line where our tickets are checked (and believe you me these tickets while very fancy souvenir inauguration tickets are NOT clear, they do not have times, just train numbers, C-1, C-2, C-3 etcetera) and we are informed that these tickets for the 7:40 AM train – the C-6. This is great news as it confirms that our return tickets are also valid. I can’t even tell you how relieved I am. Relieved? No overjoyed. O-BAMA O-BAMA O-BAMA here we come! WOO HOO! It turns out that while Kathryn dropped us off, she wasn’t about to leave until she heard we were on the train. We pass a bit of time in the warmth of her car, chat up a local police officer so we can stay in a “no standing” zone just a hair longer. It’s about 7 AM and we take the blankets and the travel coffee mugs Kathryn has lent us and we get on the line for the train. It was dark when we got there but now the sun is slowly rising. It’s cold but with all the energy in the atmosphere, I don’t feel it. The MARC staff is amazingly efficient, creating new lines for the different trains. We are in line for the C-6 and directing people to the C-5 line ahead of us the C-7 line behind us. Everyone is SO happy. Intermittently I shout out O-BAMA and flash this FABULOUS sign I scored in Macungie that unrolls and rolls up like a scroll. I had it with me on Election Day at Rockefeller Center. It makes for a nice photo op and several times I was asked to hold it up for a photo. Leigh and I were happy to oblige. This was fun. This whole journey, talking with people on the line, on the train, everywhere we went, there was a true feeling of excitement in the air. Even two days before when Leigh and I ventured into DC via public transportation to catch the tail end of that concert at the Lincoln Memorial, you could feel the joy, the hope, the pride. Making our way through BWI Airport with Loretta and Quintence to catch the bus to the metro, waiting in line for 20 minutes to get a metro ticket, talking to people from Alaska, North Carolina, New York and New Jersey, and giving dispatches about the concert that I was getting via cell phone from Jon (who was watching on HBO) to random people on the metro. Belting out “this land is your land, this land is my land” with Pete Seeger and the Boss on the Jumbo-Tron. Watching people watch Andrew Purchin paint. Andrew came from Santa Cruz and wanted to “capture the feel of the American people at his time in History.” Boy-o-boy, this was FUN!
The fun was being apart of humanity, history, America, in our Nation’s Capital.
And it was the same on the MARC train to DC on Inauguration day. That day we followed essentially the same route to attend President Barack Obama’s inauguration that Abraham Lincoln took in 1861 on the B&O line to Washington, DC.
I thought I would catch a few zzz’s on the train but I was too excited to sleep O-BAMA O-BAMA!
I convince Leigh that we should move up to the first car, that way we will be that much closer to the station exit. A conductor informs us that when we arrive in Union Station we may have to stay on the train until other passengers clear the track. He is very nice, everyone is nice, jubilant.
Union Station - we make it! It’s packed packed packed. We get food and fill up our mugs with hot beverages at Au Bon Pain and we hit the metro clutching our blankets. We have a plan. We had consulted the “Plan for the Inauguration” in the Washington Post Magazine and decided our best bet was the L’Enfant Plaza metro station on the north side of the Mall east of 7th Street.
The metro station is PACKED, streams of people pour off the cars when the train stops in the station. So many people are coming up the stairs we can’t even get down to the platform. And like the great fortune that started in the morning with having the MARC train tickets that worked, our great fortune continues with finding an elevator that got us down to the platform. We were packed in the elevator like sardines, but no one complained, au contraire we were all just happy to be there. We need to change at Metro Center for the yellow or green line to L’Enfant Plaza. A local couple in their 50’s with a decidedly liberal Jewish feel, confirm that L’Enfant Plaza is the way to go. The first yellow line train comes in, it’s no good, running express to the Pentagon, next yellow line train, same thing. Here comes a green line, the local couple, our good luck charms; two guys from Jersey and Leigh and I are optimistic. Bingo, this train is going to L’Enfant Plaza. And as people are de-training I manage to snag toe warmers for a buck each off of this kid with a box of them. We get out at the L’Enfant Plaza Station, oh my god the energy in the air, the anticipatory, celebratory, carnival feel is palpable. Okay now we gotta get to the Mall. I am glad to be outside because with all these layers I was roasting on the Metro. I am checking out all the vendors to see if I can get a round “I was there” button (saw a rectangular one on Sunday but have my heart set on a round one). Who knew the button search would turn into a day-long obsession. We make our way to the mall heading West towards 9th Street where we understand there is an entrance to the mall. On the way I notice a little pedestrian traffic flow between the Hirshhorn Museum and the Arts and Industries Building, I’m pretty sure it’s a dead end but I convince Leigh it couldn’t hurt to check it out and besides there’s a nice sculpture garden. At the end of the garden a handful of people are flowing in and out of a breech in the fence. Leigh and I squeeze in help each other off this stone wall and VIOLA, we are in! We are on the Mall, no long line, no security check, no drama. Lady Luck continues to smile upon Leigh and I! We find a spot with a little sunshine and a Jumbo-Tron view, plop our blankets down at our feet and soak it all in. Every few seconds I am getting excited about some image of what could be a motorcade, and shout “Is that him? Is that him?” Leigh politely reminds me that the inauguration won’t be starting for another hour. We dig into our croissants, Leigh is heartily disappointed that the one vegetarian option that we did end up finding at au bon pain; the spinach croissant, turns out to be ham and cheese after all. I’m too excited to eat but I manage to take some bites. I call Matt. Matt was a volunteer firefighter from Long Island who volunteered with me in Macungie. On Election Day, working like Bonnie and Clyde, hopping in and out of his pick-up truck, we plastered the town with Obama/Biden lawn signs. I never would have been able to work as deftly as we did if he hadn’t lent me his belt. The belt was perfect and I offered to pay him for it before we both headed back to New York. Being the stand-up guy that he was, he ended up giving it to me. I thought for sure, he’d be somewhere on the Mall as well. “I’m here on the Mall, I am wearing your belt! Where are you?” Alas, he had to work, he was not there, but he was so excited for me.
Since I don’t want to miss anything when the inauguration starts I decide to go to the bathroom now. I make my way out of the Mall Pack to the sidelines where people are moving freely. I go past the concessions, take a glance at the souvenir stand (no, no button) and get on a fairly short line for the port-o-potties. This row of port-o-potties is about 15 but across the mall you can see what looks like 50 or more, it’s a veritable front line of port-o-potties. There is a guy with a spray bottle and paper towels offering to clean the pottie for a dollar, it doesn’t get more American than that. There is a short line at the Carousel. The attendant is decided nonplussed, like inauguration day is no different from any other work day. Doesn’t he feel the vibration all around him? A couple waiting on line, share with me that the two of them have a mutual promise that every time they see a carousel, they have to ride it. I find that so beautiful and romantic and vow to share the same promise with my beloved. On the way back to Leigh I grab some gravel from the mall, my sisters collects sand, gravel and dirt from all over the world, I thought this would be a good souvenir. I grab some for me too. Olive’s doggie bags come in handy.
I get back to Leigh and suggest we move to another spot where there is some sun and a little decongestion. The festivities are about to begin. There is a group of about five black girls who admire my Obama sign (that fabulous scroll thing) and ask to take a picture of me with it. Then I give the sign to them and take their picture, they are pleased. Dawn, a woman behind us with her family asks Leigh and I if we will send her our pictures as the battery on her camera went dead. We oblige saying that even though the pictures won’t be hers she can say “I was standing right behind these two”.
And then it starts WOO HOO! All the people filing in, Jimmy Carter, President Clinton, Hillary, Al Gore, Dan Quayle, all those boring people we don’t so much care about, Cheney is his wheelchair, the senior Bushes. Booing George and Laura. The crowd singing "Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey GOOD BYE." These are my peeps! The daughters - how cute, Biden, the wives and finally the moment all two million of us have been keeping ourselves warm for, O-BAMA! With a look I had never before seen captured on his face; pride, dignity, solemnity, he makes his entrance. I LOVE THIS MAN! Even now just thinking about that moment, I am moved.
THE INAUGURATION;
The prayers, the music, Itzhack??, Yo-Yo, Aretha with her big hat.
The collective laughter from the throngs standing on the Mall, when the announcer says “Ladies and gentleman, please be seated.” Every time there was a long shot of the Mall on the Jumbo-Tron, I would shout out “that’s us” and everyone around me laughed – every time. “To all the other peoples and governments who are watching today,” Obama said, “from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born, know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity and we are ready to lead once more.” I felt proud. This was my president. More prayer from that funny preacher and by the time the poem rolled around the crowd began to disperse. The main attraction was finished. He had solemnly sweared.
I hugged Leigh, I was so happy I was crying.
And that was it.
Leigh and I decided to mosey down the Mall, and feel the afterglow. Since we did not see the Capital Building during the show, we took the obligatory shots with the Capital in the background.
“Leigh, we gotta go ride on the Carousel,” I said and so we did. I picked out my favorite horse, the aqua dragon horse, and being that we were first in line I was sure to get it. It’s important to pick out a pretty horse and to be on the outside. It was the perfect Carousel just the right speed (not too fast, not too slow) and just the right length.
Leigh and I held the Obama sign up for MSNBC cameras getting crowd shots and waved our newly acquired American flags. The helicopter taking the Bushes back to Texas flew overhead and the crowd erupted in another round of "Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey GOOD BYE."
We eventually get off the Mall and start heading towards the Capital, we figure with the Parade yet to come it might take us a while to get back to Union Station. I’m still looking for the “I was there” button. After several back and forth voicemail messages, I finally connect with my buddy Brian. He’s Canadian but with SUCH enthusiasm for democracy and Obama you’d swear he liked baseball better than hockey. Brian makes his way from the General Grant statue to Leigh and I, who are on the other side of the reflecting pool. He greets me with an “off the ground” hug, I love this Canuck! Brian tells us that he’s just come from hanging out by the podium and we follow him back to just get close to where Obama was standing less than an hour before. Wow, we are right there, it’s amazing, total VIP section. Okay, of course the whole hoopla is over – it’s just empty chairs and all, but the Capital looks beautiful, like a wedding cake on the Fourth of July. There are about thirty or so people milling about, taking pictures, engaged in conversations, taking it in, like us. I find a golden delicious apple on the grass underneath a plastic chair and I bite into it. Crunchy and sweet, it hits the spot. In that moment I am SO HAPPY! Brian and I are sitting on this stone wall, Brian says, “you are going to come back to this wall in years to come and remember this day.” It’s a wonderful heart-warming thought. All I need now is an “I was there” button. Brian chimes in with “that shouldn’t be hard.” Yeah that’s what I thought too.
It looks like the parade is starting and Brian disappears to see if he can get a closer look. Leigh and I use the port-o-potties on the Capital grounds – no line there and start heading to Union Station. We have to wait for the tail end of the parade to finish before we can cross the street. It’s at this point I realize that if we had been at this exact spot 20 minutes earlier we would have seen the Obamas up close, oh well. The last of the very frigid looking military folk pass, the barriers are open and we head towards Union Station. We pick up snacks at this funky bodega, chips and Dr. Pepper. We find a bunch of vendors up by the station and I am feeling optimistic about that button. We haven’t really eaten all day so when we see the stand selling organic tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, Leigh and I are down for that. Oh my god, I thought the apple was good, but this was like the best soup and grilled cheese sandwich I ever had. I enjoyed every last bite sitting on Kathryn’s blankets on the curb. Okay now all I need was that “I was there” button. Obama bags, Obama bling (gold and silver), key chains, magnets, pens, souvenir programs, t-shirts, calendar and buttons, lots of buttons, just not an “I was there” button. I would take a rectangular one at this point. But no, no button. We pass “Washington DC’s only peace tree” the vendor exclaims, I forget where the young guy is from but he is selling these beautiful signs, black on white, a peace sign with an image of Obama in it.
In order to show off his wares, he’s placed several in the tree next to him. Ten bucks with or without wooden handle (for easier display among large crowds). I take one, sans handle and think this is way better than a lousy “I was there” button anyway. Though it doesn’t stop me from glancing at the last bunch of vendors just steps away from Union Station. Like the morning, the station is packed packed packed. “Amtrak to the right.” “MARC trains to the left.” Lots of people but the lines are moving, we are moving and people are still happy. My peace Obama sign is getting lots of compliments and it’s a great way for Leigh to find me in the crowd. We get on the train and enjoy our chips and sodas. What a great day! What a great day! But it’s not over yet. Remember the good luck we started with in the AM, well the day ends with another stroke of great fortune. When we arrive in Baltimore, the ever fabulous Kathryn is there with Annika to take us to the bus depot. The train arrived at 6:30 PM and the game plan was to get on the 8 PM bus to New York. The stroke of luck? We managed to get on the 7 PM bus, SWEET!
I put my peace Obama sign in the overhead compartment and settle in to my seat to rest my weary body. It really was a great day, long, but great.
And I WAS THERE, I was there!
I don’t need no stinkin’ button.
