Radio Free Newport

All the people gather
Fly to carry each his burden
We are young despite the years
We are concern
We are hope despite the times
All of the sudden, these days
Happy throngs, take this joy wherever, wherever you go.
- REM, “These Days”

(Flickr slideshow here. Make sure you turn on “show info” for Amy’s descriptions. Also, here is Amy’s more detailed take on the day.)

It took six hours of travel, multiple layers of clothes (five layers on my torso, three on my legs), and a few lucky breaks. Amy and I, along with our good friends Doug & Kevin, were fortunate to be next to the Washington Monument when Barack Hussein Obama was sworn in as our country’s 44th President.

The trip began back in November, when Amy and Kevin won a charity auction for tickets to a luxury suite at any Philadelphia Sixers game. What originally seemed like a fun weekend trip became something more when we realized that the Sixers-Mavs game on MLK Day was…the day before the inauguration. Kevin snapped up a hotel in downtown Philly before everything sold out and the trip was on.

Despite all of our planning and research, we never knew if we would make it to the mall. We planned to drive from Philly to one of the outermost DC Metro stops and take a train into the city. But with predictions ranging from 1.5 to 3 million people, we had no idea what to expect. Would the highways be jammed? Would we be able to get a train? (Amtrak sold out immediately.) How cold was too cold? I remarked the night before we left that I could not remember a situation that entailed so much uncertainty — we honestly had no idea what to expect.

We left our hotel at 4:30am, with Kevin expertly piloting our rental car through charter buses and sleepy drivers, and this is where the emotional roller-coaster began. I received a text from DC Metro at 5:30am stating that three parking lots were already full; unfortunately, one of them was our first choice. This was bad news given that we were still an hour from the Metro stops. But Doug & Kevin were well-planned, and we rerouted to the College Park, Maryland stop…and got in, the first victory of the morning! Even there, at a generic four-story parking lot, the buzz was palpable.

Worry quickly set in again as people spilled outside of the Metro stop on to the front steps. The lines for fare tickets were 50-60 people deep and we had no idea how long it would take to get fare, let alone get on a train. Just then, a Metro worker announced that they were opening the gates and everyone could ride for free. Fifteen minutes later, we were on a train. This pattern of emotional ups and downs, of fits and starts, would continue throughout the day. 

The train conductor announced that our intended destination was closed for the moment — there were simply too many people jammed into the station to let another train’s worth of people out. We got off at another stop and wandered around for an hour without finding a way to cross over Pennsylvania Ave — which was shut down for the parade route — to the mall. It was around 9:00am at this point, and our hope for getting to the mall once again dimmed.

Doug & Kevin suggested reboarding the train. Other stops would put us farther away, but give us a better shot at the mall. With the help of an older man who knew DC well, we took a different stop and starting hoofing it to the mall. The massive crowds jammed up several times — inducing several more moments of wondering if would get there in time — but by 10:30am, we were heading across the mall, looking for the best vantage point. I think we all teared up at that point, overwhelmed by the relief of making it but also by the incredible site of millions of people crowding into the mall.

Overwhelming was the word of the day. The size of the crowd, the emotion, the feeling of unbridled joy in the air, the realization that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and the kindness of strangers and of the public service workers, who should be commended for remaining calm and friendly while doing an incredible job. Overwhelming.

Words cannot do justice to the vibe of the day. People everywhere were smiling, singing, clapping, chanting. It was not a party vibe, but rather, as Kevin perfectly described it, a feeling of determined happiness. We were there for a reason, for the purpose of reclaiming our country from the villains and bastards who spent eight years trying to rip apart everything we are supposed to stand for. Happy yes, but determined. We put this man in office and we were going to see it through.

Shortly after we settled in near the Washington Monument — the immediate crowd around us was truly a snapshot of America — the dignitaries began arriving. We cheered Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter, Senator Kennedy, and other prominent Dems, and gleefully booed Bush and Cheney. A group of black teenage boys behind us were my favorites at this point, chanting “Move out the way, Bush gotta go!” and “Who house? Obama house!” An older man next to us, who had traveled down from Brooklyn, declared that it was “moving day in DC!” The silence that fell over the crowd when Obama took the oath of office and gave his speech was remarkable. How could two million people be so quiet? Tears flowed during the speech and the crowd exploded when it ended. It was hard to believe that this man was now our president. Another favorite moment happened during our walk out of the mall, when I realized that the helicopter flying overhead was carrying Bush back to Texas.

Five hours later — including a four-mile walk to a less-jammed Metro stop — we were back in Philly, exhausted, overwhelmed, and giddy. It’s still hard to believe that we were there to witness it.

Amy once remarked on my enduring faith in people despite all evidence to the contrary. (I study race, class, and gender inequality, so the “evidence to the contrary” is bountiful.) If you’ve paid attention to my lyrics or been unfortunately subjected to one of my Guinness-fueled rants, you know this. I have never felt that faith stronger than I did on Inauguration Day. People came from so far, spent their time and money, and endured long waits and claustrophobia-inducing crowds to, as President Obama — how sweet does that sound? — proclaimed, “to gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.” I was most moved by seeing older African-Americans throughout the day, many of whom surely experienced horrors that I have only read about. They endured through our most regretful moments and endured the long, cold day — again, it was truly an ordeal to get there — to witness. If they have faith, how can the rest of us not? I would think that even the most hardened cynic would have to be warmed by what we experienced.

Many conservatives, including some of our friends and family members, have already began to snark away about how “our savior” is going to fix everything. We are silly, little deluded liberals, they say, naively believing that such an inexperienced politician can lead us out of the deep, dark hole we find ourselves in. I would usually fire back, but at this point, I almost feel sorry for them, for they are behind the tide of history. As I tell the students in my classes, the story of our nation is a long march toward progress. It is difficult, painful, and fraught with conflict, but we do move ahead. This march is marked by transformative moments, and we are now in one, a moment that will prove that, as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. proclaimed, “the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

We are bound for justice. Change has come. Let’s do this.

Who house? Obama house!

Flickr slideshow