Song for the day—“We Are the Ones” by Sweet Honey in the Rock
On the way to the 20th-Traffic warnings on Route 66, headed towards the city- “DC Event, Expect Delays”. Because the event only affected the DC area. Of course it would have been hard to put- “Worldwide Party, Expect Joy”.
Helping my friend O set up her party downtown, we left Chinatown near midnight on Sunday. Traffic was as tight as I have ever seen it during rush hour, but the horns were honking in celebration. Despite wind and freezing temperatures people had their windows down and were calling out to one another. The line outside Ben’s Chili Bowl went halfway down the block, as people added a stop to their tour.
Monday we spent the day near the Convention Center. We visited the spy museum, learned a bit, and spent a bunch of money in the gift shop. Lunch was in a small restaurant a few blocks away from the crowd, and I found myself feeling bad for anyone who had an actual job to do that day. Federal holidays usually mean a deserted downtown, but the city was jumping! By the time we left the Balls had started, and the streets were filled with couples in formal dress. We passed through the security fence and hopped on the Metro, also filled with beautiful people. Dupont Circle made us laugh as a young man leaned out of the window his friend’s car and called out “If you voted for McCain, it will be ok, we love you anyway!”
The excitement had built and we could barely make it through dinner. We picked a restaurant near O’s apartment. The waitress told us that the kitchen was closing in a few minutes, but soon after we sat down a group of 10 young men came in and begged for service. How could she refuse? O and I stumbled home and made ourselves go to bed around 3am.
Tuesday began with O rushing out the door, trying to get to her office before the security lines became too long. She was hosting a party and had to be there before any guests arrived. Her office is on the 12th floor, overlooking the parade route. The security fences began at her building, and in the end it took her three hours to get the last half block to her door. We would be stuck in that line later, but not until we had done a bit of walking.
My first instinct had been to leave at dawn, trying to beat the crowds and to get into the center of the Mall. When O told me that the Metro had recorded over 300,000 people by 6am, my plans changed. I realized that there was no way to get from the Mall in time for the party unless we were all the way in the back, so we spent a few extra minutes in the warmth of the apartment.
We parked at the Tenlytown Metro station and ran into Whole Foods for food to get us through the morning. Our cashier was a lovely woman who was smitten with Wendall, and asked to take a photo with him. He was happy to oblige, and then we were on our way.
The Metro was packed with happy people. Every seat was filled, and passengers swapped advice and showed off souvenirs. There were police officers and soldiers on every platform, making sure that all went smoothly. People who had never been in DC were helped through the turnstiles, and no one minded the still riders on the left hand side of the escalators.
Metro Center was still open, so we hopped off and began to walk. I discovered later that the distance from Metro Center to the entrance of the Mall was 1.7 miles. The boy did his best, but I ended up carrying him a large part of the time. We made it to the Mall with a few minutes to spare, and had a few moments to find a good spot.
After Obama took the Oath, we walked around for a bit, just enjoying all of the happy people. The moment we saw that people were leaving we turned and left, trying to be at the head of this particular group. There were people singing and laughing as we helped each other over the concrete barriers and around the parked metro busses. As we walked we discovered that vendors had either halved their prices or doubled their prices, depending on what they sold. One man was selling Metro fare cards. A woman near me said to her companion “Why would I buy a tee shirt now? It’s over.” Her friend corrected her “It has just begun!”
Back on the Metro we chatted with a man who had been at work all morning and was on his way home to host a party. The car was filled with people, smiling and happy to be in one another’s company.
The security line was much longer now; as people realized that it was their last chance to get into the parade route. We spent an hour moving less than five feet, and then I called O. I asked her to step onto her balcony and Wendall and I waved and waved as I told her that there was no way we would make it past security before security sealed the building. She had a quick word with the armed men in her lobby and was allowed to bring me in through the only door outside the security line. It was only to be used for people who had a key to the building, so I did my best to look very important as we walked through the lobby.
The party was small, giving us all a view through the windows. The buildings near us were filled with people, and I can only imagine that the floors below us were also in use. People lined the balconies and jostled for space as we ate delicious food and stayed warm. Finally CNN announced that the President’s car was just a block away and we all ran for the windows. When it took him longer to arrive than we expected an adult wondered aloud what the hold-up might be. My dear child piped up with “Maybe he is stuck in traffic!”, and then wondered why we were all laughing so hard.
Finally we saw the vehicle, and the cameras buzzed. They stepped out of the car just a few too many feet to the right, and the trees obscured our view, but we passed around a se of binoculars and danced with joy anyway, because we had seen the yellow dress. We turned to the TV to show us what we could not see, and I rushed back to the window as they announced that he Bidens had stepped out of their car. Sure enough a red dress was just visible, and my smile somehow became even wider.
Much, much later, as the last of the party guests left, we went downstairs hoping that the roads were opened again. Some of them were, but we were sent straight into an unhappy traffic jam as the busses and police cruisers were slowly cleared away. All of the parking garages had been on lockdown for 24 hours, and everyone was trying to drive home at the same time.
Unfortunately the Metro was also filled to capacity, for we had a passenger who needed to catch her 8pm train at Union Station. Traffic would move a few feet and then a squad car would push its way through and everything would stop. Just as we were telling our friend that there was no way she would make her train a Pedi cab operator passed by, going the wrong way. O rolled down her window and called out for him to stop. He promised to pedal as fast as he could, and we pressed money into his hands as our friend jumped onto the seat. She called us 30 minutes later to tell us that the train doors had shut as she entered, and that she had the very last seat on the train. We had managed to move a few blocks, and high-fived each other for seeing the solution.
All in all, as I drove home, my sleeping child in the back seat, I am so happy we spent those few days in DC. I have never seen the city so energized, or so filled with people who just wanted to be together. What a wonderful thing to have witnessed, what a wonderful thing to share with my son.
My favorite speech during the ceremony was Rev. Lowery’s benediction. I think he managed to pull the past 40 years straight into the day, and I laughed out loud as I heard words from my youth used to introduce our future.
“Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around ... when yellow will be mellow ... when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right. That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen.” –From the benediction by Rev. Joseph Lowery during President Barack Obama's inauguration.
