The Inauguration of President Barack H. Obama
44th President of the United States of America
M. Scott Reeves
My journey to the Inauguration of President Barack Obama actually started the year preceding the presidential election, while like most Americans I became enthralled in the intoxicating excitement of the Democratic primaries. My wife, Valarie, and I became “CNN junkies” as we watched nonstop the returns from one of the longest primary battles in history, and became almost intimately acquainted with the eclectic and sometimes embattled mix of political analysts we invited nightly into our home. With as much fervor as any major sporting event, we watched the photo finish that saw Illinois Senator Barack Obama narrowly defeat the Senator and former First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton to become the first African-American nominee from a major party in our country’s history. Had Senator Clinton won, it too would have been historic, as no woman has garnered a major party nomination either.
After watching his acceptance address at the Democratic National Convention in Denver, my wife and I decided at that point that if Obama were to be elected President, we would do all that we could to witness the Inauguration in person. It is a rare occasion in one’s life to have the opportunity to witness something truly historic, and we were not about to miss this chance. Valarie has a cousin, Susan (herein after referred to as just “cousin” – as I happen to like this particular cousin of hers), whose family lives in the Maryland city of Bowie in the Washington, D.C. area. Therefore, travel and accommodations would not be an issue for us.
We watched together as Senators McCain and Obama challenged each other in a series of spirited and occasionally heated debates. The crowds at the McCain rallies seemed to become increasingly aggressive, venomous, and almost desperate as Election Day drew closer. Followers of Obama became fearful as November drew nearer because each passing day saw McCain pull closer to Obama in the polls. Doubt creped in the minds of Obama supporters with increasing talk of the “Bradley Effect,” which is the effect of White Americans proclaiming to pollsters that they would indeed vote for the Black candidate, but not actually doing it when the moment of truth came in the voting booth. The polls were close enough where that phenomenon could potentially cost Barack Obama the election.
After the emotional November election results were announced, we resolved to solidify our plans to attend the Inauguration. Initially we had no expectation of obtaining the rare and coveted tickets; we simply wanted to be a part of history. In fact, we were not even sure how to obtain tickets to the event and didn’t care. We just wanted to go. One evening either in late November or early December, CNN ran a story about solicitors who were selling Inauguration tickets for thousands of dollars on eBay, resulting in a U.S. Representative attempting to rush through legislation to make it illegal to sell complimentary Inauguration tickets. CNN also shared that legitimate tickets could only be obtained from one’s U.S. Representative or U.S. Senator. With nothing to lose, the next day I emailed the United States Congressman of my residential area, Representative Pat Tiberi, to request tickets to the Inauguration. With him being a Republican and myself being a registered Democrat, I did not imagine that obtaining tickets from him was a realistic possibility, especially given the feverishly high interest in this event and the vast number of requests he was sure to get. I never gave it another thought until Representative Tiberi called me a few days prior to my school’s Winter Break in December to inform me that he had granted me two tickets to the Inauguration. I discovered in our conversation that Representative Tiberi played basketball at Northland High School in Columbus in the early 1980’s, which was where I got my first head varsity basketball coaching position replacing his former coach, the classy Art Signore. I didn’t know what surprised me most – that he actually knew who I was or that I was getting Inauguration tickets. Either way, we talked basketball for several minutes and afterwards I excitedly called Valarie to tell her the good news.
A week prior to the Inauguration, it was bitterly cold in Columbus with subzero temperatures shutting down several schools and businesses. Keeping a close eye on the extended Washington forecast, which was thankfully more moderate, Valarie and I took no chances and headed to Dick’s Sporting Goods for “long-john’s” and other cold weather clothing accessories. We departed for the nation’s capital early Sunday morning, January 18, awaking to another blast of bitter cold and a few more inches of ice and snow. We left early enough to reach her cousin’s home in time to catch most of the NFL championship games. Needless to say, driving was slow and stressful due to the inclement winter weather.
Taking it slow and deliberate, we stopped roughly halfway through the trip in Morgantown, WV, to have lunch on the campus of West Virginia University. Neither of us had ever been on the WVU campus before and marveled at their seemingly efficient monorail system that weaved through the hilly campus. We parked on their Ohio State equivalent to “High Street,” which I believe is actually called High Street, and asked for a restaurant recommendation from an elderly couple walking by. Without hesitation, they directed us to the Boston Beanery. I didn’t understand why people were staring at me when I entered, until I realized after we sat down that I was strutting through the eatery dressed in full Ohio State regalia. Lunch was as good as advertised.
Navigating through the Appalachian Mountains was treacherous. As we ascended higher into the range, the weather became like the grand finale of a midsummer fire works show. Like raging Zeus atop Mount Olympus, Mother Nature violently emptied her arsenal of gale force winds and blinding snow that she couldn’t carry over the mountains. The stretch between Morgantown and Cumberland, MD was hazardous with near blizzard-like conditions bringing traffic to a crawl. After passing Cumberland and the Eastern Continental Divide, the weather cleared as suddenly as if we had escaped across the border from the clutches of the oppressive Snow Miser to the moderate and welcoming arms of the Heat Miser. Like stepping from the drab gray Kansan house into the colorful world of Munchkin Land, there was not a cloud in the air or flake of snow on the ground and the surroundings were sunny and green. As we headed closer to Washington, thankfully the temperature slowly began to rise.
Several weeks prior, I was instructed by telephone from Representative Tiberi’s helpful assistant, Allie, to pick up our tickets the day before the Tuesday Inauguration from Tiberi’s office in the Cannon House office building next to the Capitol. Valarie and I thought that day would also be a great opportunity to do a dry run of the D.C. Metro system and plot out our itinerary for the big day. On Monday afternoon, we hopped on the Orange Line train at the Landover station in Maryland and started our “scrimmage” (hey, we’re sports people). Just at the moment the Orange Line transforms from an elevated train to descend underground to become a subway, there is a spectacular view of the U.S. Capitol rising behind RFK Stadium.
We exited the train at the Capitol South station and surfaced to see hoards of people excitedly milling around at every turn. The streets of Washington had not yet closed to traffic for the upcoming event, but the giant metal interlocking security gates were stacked ominously along every street like faithful sentry’s waiting patiently to completely encase the National Mall and the Pennsylvania Avenue parade route. An army of blue Port-a-Potty’s stood in impressive rows by the thousands along the length of the Mall. With our faithful tourist’s map in-hand, we quickly located the Cannon House, which was less than a block from the Capitol South subway tunnel, and searched for an appropriate entrance to the building. We initially walked to the entrance, but quickly noticed that there was a long line to enter the building. As we searched for the elusive end of the line, it kept going and going snaking down the block and around the corner. At every entrance, the line out of the doorway wrapped easily around two corners often forming a double line on the sidewalk with a line from another entrance. By the time we reached the end of our line, we realized that the wait for The Beast rollercoaster at Kings Island amusement park would be quicker than it would be to enter the Cannon House. We worried that we might not make it into the building before the offices closed.
Needless to say, the environment was festive and everyone around exhibited a spirit of kinship and brotherhood. Those in line took the opportunity to greet the people around them and discovered that people were from places as far as Florida and California. No one seemed to mind the wait as we inched slowly forward, yet were thankful as a well-dressed lady with an elegantly draped full length fur, traveled the sidewalk shouting for those in line to call the office of their Congressman to have their tickets brought outside and delivered. As luck would have it, I had Tiberi’s office number in my pocket and within minutes, Allie greeted us outside the office with our Inauguration package. She remarked in amazement that in the few Inaugurations she has worked, none rivaled the interest as this.
I’m not sure what I expected, probably just a pair of tickets akin to those of a sporting event, but what Allie gave me was a large stuffed manila envelop with my name typed on a label in the upper left corner. Like one of the star-bellied sneeches or Charlie when he discovered the golden ticket in his Wonka Bar, the envelope instantly transferred a feeling of excitement and distinction. Looking around, there were but a few similar envelopes in the hands of supporters sprinkled around the Capitol. Valarie and I found the nearest bench to explore the contents of our prize.
Carefully pealing away the gold House Seal not to tear it, we pulled a golden file folder with a blue Congressional Seal emblazoned on the front. Inside we found our tickets and a myriad of information about Inauguration Day. Seeing that our area was the “South Standing –Blue” area, we put off reading the rest of the information until we had a more appropriate (and warmer) location, and set off to find the Blue Gate. The area our ticket permitted us to enter was the southwest Capitol lawn. After milling around the area and taking a few snapshots of the stage and the adorned Capitol, we decided to catch our breath and do a little sightseeing.
We set off down Pennsylvania Avenue toward the White House, which when built in the late 18th Century was the largest residence in the United States, watching the final preparations being made for the upcoming parade. As a former history teacher, the sense of history and who may have seen the very sights I saw or may have stood in the very place I have, always struck a deep chord within me. My wife, on the other hand, has no great love for history, and I can’t imagine those thoughts coming anywhere near her consciousness. Bleachers were assembled down the stretch of road leading to the White House, as well as hundreds of venders setting up to sell their merchandise.
Heading around the White House to the Washington Monument, the Ellipse was filled with soaring kites flying in the air, vendors selling buttons and t-shirts, thousands of camera’s snapping memories of D.C. from every possible angle, and those advocating for D.C. statehood and the prosecution of outgoing President George W. Bush. Seeing the many photographs depicting the alignment of the Capitol, Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial, they appear deceptively close in photos but are actually far apart, as evidenced by our increasingly weary legs. Scanning the scenery around the monument, it is clear that it is the epicenter of Washington. Lining the National Mall from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial were gigantic jumbo-trons spaced 50 to 100 yards apart. If only I could get one of those in my basement to watch the game!
By this time, we were chilly, aching for a cup of coffee and ready to head back to her cousin’s home to relax. Locating a nearby Starbucks, we sat down, sipped a little Joe, and reviewed our ticket package. Inside the golden folder was a ton of informational material. There was information about prohibited items, the Metro system and even a promotional guide to the Smithsonian Museums. There was an ecru colored heavy-stock envelope that contained our official invitation. It read:
The honor of your presence
Is requested at the ceremonies attending the
Inauguration of the President and Vice President
of the United States
January twentieth
Two thousand and nine
The Capitol of the United States of America
City of Washington
By the
Joint Congressional
Committee of Inaugural Ceremonies
Dianne Feinstein, Chairman
Harry Reid, Robert F. Bennett,
Nancy Pelosi, Steny H. Hoyer
John A Boehner
It contained photographs of Obama and Biden, color-coded maps of the Capitol showing ticketed areas, and the Inauguration Ceremonies Program. Within the elegant program bordered by a gold braided tassel, contained the events of the ceremony, a brief bio of President Abraham Lincoln commemorating his 200th birthday, and a brief history of the Inauguration Ceremony itself. It was all very elegant.
Ready to relax for the evening, we initially headed for the subway station, but detoured back to the nearby Cannon House to thank Representative Tiberi personally for giving us the tickets. Ironically, by this time there was no line and we were able to walk right up to the security gate. Much like in an airport terminal, we had to strip layers of winter clothing to prove we meant our Congressman no harm. Walking the corridors of the Cannon House to his office, everything was large and impressive. Every Congressman’s office had multiple entries with huge heavy adorned doors and entryways that hung the Representative’s state flag. Spotting the familiar pennant shaped flag of the State of Ohio, we entered Tiberi’s office. He wasn’t in, however Allie, who we seem to have gotten to know quite well, allowed us into his private office and even took a couple of pictures of Valarie and I behind his desk. Again, his office was the picture of opulence. Deeply polished wood paneled walls and shelves containing gifts he had received and many items from Ohio State, including photos of him marching in the Ohio State Marching Band, framed his imposing desk. After thanking Allie repeatedly, we hopped on the Orange Line ending our scrimmage for the day and prepared for the next day’s events.
On Tuesday, January 20, we rose at 5 AM and made it to the Landover station by 6AM, which anyone who knows Valarie and I know it’s a minor miracle for us to be anywhere on time. CNN had been reporting that by that time, hundreds of thousands of people had already descended on the Mall. The Landover station is the second stop on the Orange Line, so despite many people being on the train, there were still a few seats available. Pulling up to the RFK stadium stop, there were acres of tour buses that jammed the lot as far as the eye could see with throngs of people from those buses lined up to further stuff the trains. Due to the ocean of people spilling out of the trains into the stations, several stops of the Metro were shutting down near the Capitol.
Even on the train, there was an atmosphere of electric anticipation. Everyone was joyous. Getting off at Capitol South as we had practiced the day earlier, the volume of people in the station was beyond what I could imagine. Heading up the escalator to the surface, you could see from the deep lavender hue of the sky at the top of the stairs that the sun had not quite risen. The spattering of thousands camera flashes like a swarm fireflies lit up the station and tunnel to the surface as if it were midday. As the crowds ascended to the surface they began to shout in unison Obama’s slogan, “Yes We Can!”
Finally getting to the street level, the volume of people was simply astonishing. Our tickets were “Blue” so we needed to make our way to Washington Avenue where the Blue Gate security checkpoint was located. Arriving in the massive line at 7AM (gates opened at 8AM) we were already several thousandths place in line with people quickly packing in behind us. Being just after sun up, it was extremely cold but the cheerful crowd and our multiple layers of clothing provided much appreciated warmth. Some time around 8 AM, the security gates opened and very slowly, we began to creep forward. By then the line, which was easily the width of the street, stretched behind us for blocks. By 9:30AM we cleared the security gate and bomb sniffing dogs and reached our standing area on the Capitol lawn to scout a place where we had a clear view of the podium through the trees. The space filled in quickly while cameras again were flashing wildly as we pivoted from looking at the jumbo-tron next to the Capitol to peaking around the 6’4” fellow with the high reddish afro about five feet in front of us to view the podium. Everyone in our area gasped each time the jumbo-tron showed shots of all of the people assembling in the Mall. We could not see the Mall from our vantage point, but the number of flag waving people displayed on the screen seemed immeasurable.
After about an hour of gradually being enclosed by more and more revelers, we found ourselves standing at nearly the exact spot we had scouted out the day before. Talk about a good game plan! Right on cue, dignitaries began the procession of entering the Capitol Stage. There were television cameras inside the corridors of the Capitol, so we were able to see on the jumbo-tron all of the VIPs approaching through the building before they actually came out on the stage. The momentum and electricity were definitely building to a crescendo. Around 11AM, screens captured Obama’s motorcade traveling slowly up Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Capitol. As the crowds roared in jubilation you could hear to the side the actual shrill of the motorcade’s sirens inching closer.
The loudest cheers for dignitaries came when former President Bill Clinton and ailing Senator Ted Kennedy entered into the Capitol and onto the stage. A chorus of boo’s rained down heavily when President George W. Bush appeared on the stage. Throughout the ceremony the outgoing President had a definite look of relief to be leaving this “snake pit” of Democrats.
When President-Elect Obama entered the Capitol and appeared on the stage, an estimated 1.8 million people went into a complete frenzy. I cannot begin to imagine what it must feel like for any person about to be inaugurated to behold that sight. After all the preliminaries, songs and tributes, it was finally time for Obama to step to the podium and take the oath of office as President. From our vantage point, we could see the podium and could make out images of people moving enough to tell who was who, but could not make out the details of anyone. When the oath was being administered, I looked mainly at the podium and not the jumbo-tron screen because I wanted to see Obama become President as best I could with my own two eyes. When President Obama finished swearing in, there was an indescribable roar of excitement, relief, and accomplishment. Tears ran down the cheeks of so many, especially elderly citizens who never thought they would live to see the day when an African-American became the President of the United States. With every word of his Inaugural Address transmitting down the Mall, you could hear a pin drop in between the moments of wild cheers for a popular word or phrase. As the ceremony ended, you could hear in the distance cannons being fired with their booming tribute echoing majestically off of the buildings.
Following a poem, benediction and the recession of the new President from the stage, we contemplated hanging around for a while or making our way to the train station. Chilled toes and hands were growing colder, we were hungry and exhausted, and given our relatively close proximity to the subway station, we thought it best to go there right away before a million people beat us to it. Valarie had not eaten or drank anything to that point because she did not want to have to use a Port-a-Potty. I did, and she was probably right. Despite our nearness to the station, the line to go down the subway tunnel stretched for an entire city block in two directions. By the time we reached the tunnel, it stretched for three. The mood was still festive and exhibited a spirit of bonding that is too rarely seen or felt in our country. It was said that on Inauguration Day, not a single crime was reported in Washington D.C. We finally made it back to Valarie’s cousin’s home to eat, nap, and watch the parade knowing that we just witnessed one of the most significant events in our country’s history. We were very proud.
