Inauguration Day - The View From The Back

Whew! As promised, here are my thoughts on Inauguration Day 2009, the inauguration of Barak Obama, which I attended in Washington DC. I had no idea I had so much to say. Unfortunately, when I got my pictures back, I discovered I had a defective shutter, so some of them didn't come out. Grrrr. But I will do the best I can.


My trip began at 6 o'clock Monday morning, January 19. My flight left at 8, and I was anticipating a long wait, so I made sure to get there early. Things couldn't have been smoother. I got to the airport, checked in, paid the fee for my bag (yuck) and made my way to the gate. I flew through security with no problems. Wow, I thought, this is easy. I had a two-hour layover in Las Vegas. I amused myself with the slot machines (down $10 already), and then went to the gate to wait. This is when things started getting strange. I was bonding with my iPod, listening to Johnny Cash, when I began to notice a lot of people hanging around the gate - people with badges and patches that said "TSA" on their clothes. Then, an announcement over the PA: "Ladies and gentlemen, for your safety, this flight will be subject to extra security." Oh, my.

It seemed that because this flight was bound for DC, some of us were going to have our papers checked and be searched before they’d let us get on the plane. Naturally, this made the boarding process take longer, so they started it earlier. To the airline’s credit, the whole process went very well and we all got onboard without incident. (At least, that we were aware of.)

Finally, about four hours later, I landed in DC. I was greeted by my Aunt Kathy, Uncle Bill and cousin Amy. My other cousin, Maggie, was at home and I would see her later. After I opened my bag, I discovered it had been searched. They even left a nice note. How sweet.

It was coooold. The temperature on Inauguration Day was 20 degrees. The wind chill brought it down to 9. I nearly took a header on a patch of ice in the parking lot. I flew across the country safely only to die on the sidewalk fifteen minutes after my arrival.




Once at home, we talked strategy: my uncle laid out a map of the Metro system with all the routes marked in red. We put stars next to the stations that would be closed, circled the ones that would get me to the best places in the Mall. My plan was to get as close the Capitol steps as possible, since this is where the swearing-in would take place, and then fight my way across the Mall during the two-hour break (During which Obama would say goodbye to Bush, out of the public eye, I noticed.) and take a position along the parade route. Easy, right?

Wrong. What is it they say about the best-laid plans? I got to the Metro station at 6:15. The parking lot still had spaces in it, and there weren’t a lot of people outside, which was not what I expected. The news the night before had been screaming that the Metro was going to be impossible. Bridges were being closed in Virginia, meaning people would have to walk. Roads were shut down, there would be patrol boats on the Potomac. I sat next to a lady on the plane who said they would shut down access to the Mall once capacity reached 300,000. People had started streaming into the city at 4 a.m. But still the station seemed deserted. Granted, it was the end of the line, but…where was everybody? I thought as I walked down the icy steps.

Oh. My. God.





Chaos. Everyone packed together, trying to cram three at once through the fare gates, which could only take one at a time. Metro employees in bright orange vests directing the herd and hawking day passes outside the gates. They did a good job keeping us moving and heading in the right direction. The Washington Metro system is very efficient. I got to my transfer station in no time, and actually had a seat on the train!

So far, so good. Everything is going according to plan - maybe. Here I encountered my first glitch. This was the Metro Center station, a busy hub in downtown DC. Almost every train on every line comes through here. I stood on the platform and waited. I was struck by how calm everyone was. People were so friendly, asking each other where they were from. I flew all the way across the country to stand next to a guy from Berkeley. When one man found out I was from California, he said, “Is anyone home in California? Because everyone I’ve met today is from California.” You don’t see this on Muni.

The trains came in and the trains pulled out. They were so full that they didn’t stop, or if they did, you couldn’t get on. After being frustrated for about 20 minutes or so (The clock was ticking! I didn’t want to be shut out!) , a small group of us decided to walk. It was only a mile.

Armed with my city map and my lunchbag, I climbed up the stairs onto the street. I had no idea where I was going, so I just followed the crowd in front of me. They had shut down the downtown streets to accommodate all the pedestrians. There were frozen volunteers in red knit hats answering questions and showing us the way. Those red hats stood out like the Star of Bethlehem against the dark sea of people.

It turned out that my plan of seeing both the swearing-in and the parade was not going to work. If you had a ticket for the parade, you were directed to specific, color-coded security checkpoints. If you did not have a ticket, you were directed to different security checkpoints. Once you got into your area, you were penned up inside a fence and could not move about. How these people got to the bathrooms, I don’t know. After figuring out that I had to make a choice, I opted for the Mall. There I could at least watch the ceremony and the speech on the Jumbotrons. Strange that no one on the outside had heard of these Jumbotrons. Were they a myth?

If you had a ticket for a specific seating area on the Mall, you were directed to yet another security checkpoint. A word about security: it was tight. I saw officers from every law enforcement agency in the DC area and beyond. I have never seen so many cops in one place, ever. There were Metro Police, District Police, FBI, U.S. Army, Secret Service Police (I don’t know how they’re different from the regular Secret Service, if they are.), the Border Patrol and guys in generic black flak suits. Maybe these were ninjas. It wouldn’t have surprised me. There were helicopters overhead. Some were news choppers, some were not. Before leaving California, I had read and downloaded the list of restricted items from the Secret Service website: no coolers, no glass bottles, no umbrellas, no sticks, no poles, no large bags, no backpacks. I had crammed everything I needed into a very small lunchbag and the pockets of my cargo pants. I also had two cameras.

Imagine my surprise then, when I finally reached the Mall and was allowed to simply WALK ONTO THE PREMISES without being searched. (???) I walked further and saw people with not only coolers and backpacks, but picnic blankets and lawn chairs. Lawn chairs?? When I got out onto the grass, I saw where I was: at the foot of the Washington Monument, outside the secure area. Way outside. To get an idea of how far away from the action I was, here’s a picture of the Mall I took last year. I was standing on the Capitol steps looking towards the Monument. (Locals refer to the Washington Monument as the Monument. The others are called by name, Lincoln and Jefferson.) The arrow points to my approximate location.




I staked out a patch of grass and settled down. It was about 9:30 a.m. I had reached my goal. To my left was the White House, where moving vans came and went during the day, emptying out the Bushs’ stuff and bringing in the Obamas’. To my right, was the Monument. There was also the largest bank of porta-potties I have ever seen, supplied by Don’s Johns and Bobby’s Potties. True. Both Don and Bobby probably made out like pirates. If anyone else needed a porta-potty that day, they were just SOL.

Now came the hard part. Waiting. I did manage to use one of Don’s Johns before it got too messy. I wandered back to the street and bought some buttons and a t-shirt from a guy there. (More on the swag later.) The rest of the time, I sat and ate some of the contents of my lunchbag. Walking all over downtown DC had made me hungry, but I had to be careful. It had to last me all day. The Jumbotron was showing the concert that had played on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial the Sunday before. Bono was jumping around singing about freedom or some such. I have never been a huge U2 fan. Samuel L. Jackson introduced some of the acts. Now, he was cool.

The crowd wasn’t too bad yet, but that all changed when the clock struck 11. Or maybe it was 10:30. Time had little meaning there on the Mall. Bono went away and was replaced by images of all the famous folk who had come from far away to sit in the good seats and watch the swearing-in. People started drifting in and packing together, because it looked like something would actually happen soon.

It was interesting to see who the crowd loved. Steven Spielberg and Robert DeNiro were there. They got moderate applause. Not much response for Oprah. She’d been in DC for days and people there were getting sick of her and her shameless sucking up to Michelle Obama. The first real ovation came for Teddy Kennedy. He’s been fighting cancer as you know, and had said that he really wanted to be there. He looked great, considering. (I saw the ambulance that took him away later, but I didn’t know who was in it until I got home that night.) Other audience favorites were the Clintons, Al and Tipper Gore, Colin Powell and Jimmy Carter, who looked really good. The elder Bush got some applause, although he seemed to be walking with difficulty. I found out later he’d hurt his hip earlier in the week. Our new Senator from Illinois, Roland Burris, was there, basking in his victory. Laura Bush escorted Michelle Obama, and the crowd was kind to her. Not so for George Bush. I am not a Bush fan by any means, but I thought actually booing him showed a want of class. Like we learned when we were kids: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” He’s leaving, we can afford to be generous.

Joe Biden came into view and people were yelling, “It’s Joe! It’s Joe!” Is he their neighbor? Since when can you call the Vice President by his first name without even meeting him? Must be that great American Casualness we are known for. And then, the Man Himself. Barak Obama came down the stairs and everyone lost their minds, waving flags and screaming “O-BA-MA!” This, by the way, is how you say his name. It’s not just “Obama” or even “Mr. Obama”, you must scream it: “O-BA-MA!” If you have a flag to wave, even better. He was so cool, just coming down the stairs like he was already President and all of this was just a formality.

This was when I got the sense of history. Here I was, standing at the foot of the monument dedicated to our first President, watching our next President being sworn in. It began to overwhelm me, and when Justice Roberts said, “Congratulations, Mr. President” I was just as caught up as everyone else. There were so many flags waving, you couldn’t see the sky. I will never be a part of anything like that again.




There had been problems with the audio all morning, but it miraculously cleared up just before Obama started speaking. This was good, otherwise there would have been 1.9 million people rushing the stage to hear what he had to say and that could have been ugly.

After the speech and during the poem, I decided to leave. Actually, what happened was the 1.9 million people standing behind me decided to leave. When 1.9 million people start pushing you, you move. We got caught in a bottleneck at the back of the Mall. Things started to get a little hairy here. We were cold, we were hungry, we were tired. People started getting unruly. Some started skipping across the porta-potties. I’m not sure where they were going, but they thought they were going somewhere. Remember all those law enforcement officers? They started to drift our way. I remember the fence suddenly falling over. At first, people didn’t move, but then they surged. When 1.9 million people start pushing you against a fence, you go over the fence. We came up against another fence. If you look carefully at this picture, you can see the officers lining up on the other side. There was a cement barrier in front of me, a K-rail. I paused, not sure what to do, but those 1.9 million kept on pushing, so over I went.

Finally, I found myself on the road to home. I flowed along as part of the crowd for about three more hours until I found a Metro station. I got on a train, a direct one this time, and finally arrived at my aunt and uncle’s house. I did get to see the parade on TV.

Three days later, after much sightseeing (another story for another time) and another nice note from the TSA, I came home, to my home. Oh, the swag? Here’s some of it: there’s the t-shirt, the flag I bought from some guy on the street (got to have the flag) and the buttons.







Here’s a Metro pass, a sticker I got from another guy on the street, a postcard and some breath mints. Slap Obama’s face on it – instant souvenir. My little pieces of history, and if he turns out to be a bad President, then it’s all going up on EBay.