At the Inauguration - Day One

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Left Philly at 8:30 am

A speedy 2 ½ hour ride from Philly to D.C. No traffic, no delays. WOW. All sorts of warnings were posted though for those driving down on the next two days.

Now on to the Opening Ceremony at Lincoln Memorial. This would be my first encounter with the crowds – a rehearsal for Tuesday. Not bad. The metro ran every three to four minutes and the crowds moved out steadily. Most everyone was patient and orderly. We reached the public entrances to the Lincoln Memorial by walking several block down 17^th Street. As we were about to cross Pennsylvania Ave. (which was closed), we saw the national guard, who were stationed every few yards, starting to shout at people to get out of the street and to stay on the sidewalks. I first thought that they just wanted everyone out of the street for safety. But there was no traffic! Then the crowds stopped advancing. Everyone and everything stood still. A few police on motorcycles sped by. The people closest to the curb side of the sidewalk started raising their cameras. Then I realized something was. And as quickly as that thought occurred to me the long black presidential limo raced by toward the Memorial. We all threw our cameras into the air, hoping to get a fleeting picture of the man who would be our next president.

A few seconds of awe & silence were immediately followed by everyone spilling into the streets in pursuit of a place to watch the ceremony on a jumbotron; for surely the people who were there when the doors opened at 8 am had already filled up the front areas around the pond in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

All along the way, there were local people hawking just about every kind of “Obama” memorabilia you could imagine: Obama magnets, t-shirts, caps, hats, posters, plaques, oil, binoculars,earrings, buttons, bookmarks, perfume....

Expectedly, we found a line to the 17^th st. & Constitution entrance and volunteers telling us that there were so many people, they weren’t letting anyone else into the Lincoln area. We simply crossed the street to the Washington Monument portion of the mall and stationed ourselves in front of a jumbo tron and watched with the tens of thousands of people that were rapidly joining us to fill this mall back to the capitol.

In events like this, perfect strangers become quick to talk and relate how and why they are here: we were all sharing a common hope for our country that began nearly two years ago when Barack announced his candidacy.

We cheered and yelled for each singer and speaker; we rocked, clapped and sang along with all the familiar verses of the many inclusive music genres and styles that represented an inclusive image of America: folk, country, rhythm and blues, rock, gospel, patriotic, classical.

As we were filing out into 17^th Street, a news reporter from Italy introduced himself and asked if he could interview me. He had spied my Obama pin on my hat and asked me what this meant to me? Did I campaign for him? Will I be disappointed with his Presidency? “No. He is only one man. It is up to all of us to change our country and the world. His presidency is a symbol of the progress America has made - a symbol of hope shared by most of the world. We can only be disappointed in ourselves.”

To see more pictures from the inauguration, click on the slideshow below. Also, view next blog postings.

At The Inauguration - Day Three

Inauguration Day: January 20th, 2009

Both the ordeal and the joy of Tuesday had been exhausting. I had set out at 7:30 am, navigated the Metro downtown to my appointed stop and walked with anticipation toward the Purple Gate. I expected to have to get into line, but was startled at the realization slowly dawning on me as I walked back and forth trying to make meaning and sense of all the people. The line for those “holding purple tickets” travelled several blocks back from the Gate, and then moved into the Third Street Tunnel. With growing fear and incredulity about what this meant, I entered the tunnel searching for the end of the line. The thought gripped me - “I’ll never get in. I have a ticket, but I’ll never make it in”. I walked a mile before stepping into place at the end of the line – almost out the other end of the tunnel . Even though the line should start moving in 30 minutes, and even though we had 2 ½ hours to make it in before they shut the gate, there were tens of thousands of people who had to go through the security check points just inside the gate. Almost 100,000 people agonized for two hours in the Third Street Tunnel. We would find out later that the Purple Gate never opened! At 11:20, ten minutes before the gates were to close, suddenly the line was moving very fast. The line broke down; people from the back were rushing forward. The mob now filled the entire width of the tunnel, inching forward together. I could now easily see how someone could be trampled to death in such a crowd. But on this day, though we all wanted to get in, there was no panic.

We could see the light, signaling our emergency from the tunnel. Once out on the street, people were dispersing everywhere at the news that the Gate was closed and no one would be let in. Wails of dismay and disappointment were everywhere in this thick crowd that now had nowhere to go. Thousands pressed around the gate, starting a chant imploring the guards to let them in. I could hear the introductions being made of the Vice President-elect. The ceremony was beginning and I was still on the outside! Had I come this far only to miss everything? I heard a young woman standing atop a stone pillar reference the Yellow gate. In a flash, I knew what to do. I implored Susan and Alan, the two people that befriended me in the tunnel, to run with me to the Yellow Gate. I knew it wasn’t far – just up the hill and around the bend – I’d scouted it too on Monday – it was the gate for those privileged to have tickets closer up to the podium. We climbed the hill and ran through the empty gate - no lines, holding our tickets high so as not to be deterred. We were waved through, threw open our bags and emptied our pockets at the secrutiy checkpoint, flew back down the inside hill at the direction of the guards and into the Purple Ticket Standing area…”and now the President of the United States."

We were in, and immediately wrapped in the now cheering wildly, then listening with the millions in hushed silence to every word.

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At the Inauguration - The Day After

Wednesday Morning- The Day after the Inauguration

All packed and ready to walk out the door.

Emotions unfamiliar. A sadness. I wanted to cry.

I didn’t want to go.

I wasn’t ready to leave.

I wanted to stay connected. To what?

The joy and euphoria of the hope that has been held out to all of us? To the world?

So, how do we come back to what is; doing the same old stuff at our jobs when the President has laid before us a challenge to help him change the world? Should I stay here in Washington and help? How do I help from home doing what I do? There is a tone of reverence from the people for the President and for this ritual. There is a force that resides within him that at every turn seems to communicate confidence in our ability to thrive and to re-make – yes, transform, America.

The inclusiveness of every aspect of the weekend was lived out with great integrity and veracity from Rick Warren to the Gay marching band in the parade, to Rev. Watkins (the first woman to deliver the message at the post-inaugural Prayer Service); from the President reaching out to the Muslim world in his speech to prayers from representatives of every faith and ethnicity at the National Prayer Service.

The inaugural experience was very much like Palm Sunday, Jesus riding into town on/in the Beast. Throngs waving palm branches and proclaiming him. Is Barack Obama not one for such a time as this? Is he not God’s hand.

What is President Obama calling us to that God also calls us to? What stood out most is a value for inclusion - amidst protests of having "this one or that one". How can you have inclusion if you don’t have the person that doesn’t think like me or you.? Most salient after inclusion was the President calling us meaningful and constant participation. God does both of these. Participation by serving others, in being responsible and accountable for change and peace; or hearing all voices. The new White House website is a new day of access, participation and “voicing”.

What is this calling us to do better on Eastern’s campus – the inclusion is not there; the courage to embrace others out of mission and kindness, trusting in faith that there will be a way, is not there.

Susan said that her 8-month volunteering-for-Obama experience changed her. She said she never knew how bigoted some of her hometown neighbors were until she heard them saying “I could never vote for anyone who’s middle name was Hussein.” It blew her mind that people would feel such things that were unfounded.

I carry the baggage of the 60’s civil rights generation – I was one of those who thought, "Whites will never vote for a black man to be president." My perspective, too, has changed.

My faith in humanity, to rise above race in matters of world survival is restored. Is his leadership not God's hand? Has not God sent him for such a time as this?

Change truly has come to America.

At the Inauguration - Day Two

Monday, January 19, 2008

The morning is cold, but with joyous bits of sun. Spent most of the day visiting the Capital, the Mall, the Smithsonian museums, and scouting out the route to the Purple Gate through which I would enter the inaugural ceremony tomorrow morning. Thousands of people from everywhere were doing the same thing. It was a festive atmosphere and not too many lines. Tomorrow would surely be different.

Monday Night. The Metro Center underground station.

Washington, D. C.

Perhaps the unlikeliest place for a rally. Not. The energy was everywhere, always. It was almost midnight on Inauguration Eve. All of the pre-inaugural balls were letting out, crowding the subway platforms with formal-clad patrons mingled with citizens coming from ordinary places. (We were on our way back to Chevy Chase from the Delaware State Society Ball.) On the skybridge above the tracks came the instructions from four enthusiastic young people to everyone on the train platforms above and below:

Young Leaders: When I say Barack, you say Obama!

Barack

Crowd: Obama

Leaders: Melia

Crowd: Obama

Leader: Sasha

Crowd: Obama

Leader: Michelle

Crowd: Obama

Leader: Fired Up

Crowd: And ready to go

Leader: Fired Up

Crowd: And ready to go

Leader: Fired Up

Crowd: And ready to go

Spontaneous rhythmic clapping energized the cadence and echoed throughout the resonant subway station.

Everyone is fired up and ready to go. The anticipation of tomorrow is feverish. The hope of a nation is sounded in the call and response chant invoking the name of Obama. This must be what the crowd was like as Jesus rode into Jerusalem, crowds pushing and shoving to catch a glimpse, waving palms, shouting Hosannas.

Obama is not a saviour; not a great black hope. We must be careful to preserve his humanity, not to set him and us up for disappointment. But for the moment, hero he is. Humans are fickle. As fast as they raise someone up on their shoulders, so will they drop him when their interests and needs are not fed.

Let us raise him up with prayers and our support and our hard work; being responsible and accountable for our part. Let us be fired up and ready to go.