I'd been quite anxious myself. I was pumped up to be in Washington, D.C. and ready to gather up as much news as I could. I just wanted to say I'd been there. More than that really ... it's my urge to always be in the middle of the big story. And how much bigger could the inauguration of the country's first black president be?
As a native Detroiter, I knew what this moment would mean. I knew what it would mean to my high school English teacher. What it would mean to my mentor sitting at home in Louisville watching with a glass of Jack to toast with. What it would mean to all the mixed-race children in my family and community to see this man as a role model.
Still, there was a moment at 6 a.m. as I saw the news reports of hundreds already flocking the mall and windchills reaching only 9 degrees, when I paused and thought seriously that I'd lost my mind to plunge into this.
But it was a fleeting thought. I donned the seven layers I'd carefully laid out the night before. Wrapped two scarves around my neck and face. Put on the coziest hat I could find. Laced up my hiking shoes covering two pairs of socks and headed out for the mall.
Luckily, I was staying with a conveniently situated friend who lives just past Union Station. I thought this will be no problem. Then I hit the crowds. Oh my God were there crowds. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I think I have a better understanding of how salmon feel now.
People pressed together and just shuffled along as they tried to reach a spot where they could grab a glimpse of a giant screen. It was slow going. But we all made it somewhere eventually.
After a failed, and probably ill-advised, attempt to meet up with some fellow Louisvillians, I realized the futility of my effort. I won't describe the number of people that I was pushed or jostled by but let's say I don't need anyone to touch me for quite some time.
I decided to settle in or I would be left with no view and likely a harder journey back. I staked out a place just south of the Washington Monument. A jumbotron in front of me, though slightly angled. Here is where height works in your favor.
Still, some folks don't understand that when you've staked out a place, that is not an invitation for them to come stand in it. There was quite a bit of jockeying for position that went on in that last hour. And I became entrenche
d in very tight quarters with a bunch of people I didn't know.In a truly Jessie moment, I happened to stand next to a man from Kenya, Alex. He now lives in Baltimore. In my grandmother's tradition, I talk to people I don't know. With a few simple questions, I came to learn that Alex moved to the U.S. to attend college at .... wait for it ... the University of Kentucky. I KNOW RIGHT!!! 2 million people and I stand next to a guy who went to UK. Needless to say I whipped out the notebook feeling a wave of relief that I had at least one quote to work with.
We all stood watching the ceremony intently. It isn't nice to boo so I didn't even though the rest of the crowd let out a raucus boo for our previous president.
But it was the joy and the tears and the smiles and the cheers that erupted during pretty much every move Obama made that will stay with me forever. There was a lot of hope in that crowd. A lot of dreams realized in that crowd. There was interest in the process. And a joy for the moment.
Near me stood a man from Africa making his life here now. A black couple from D.C. filled with the energy and poinancy of the moment. There was a young Indian woman fervently clapping. A group of Latinos was joking in back of me. A white couple from Leesburg, Va. stood attentively watching.
It's the moment I've been waiting my whole life for.
It's the first moment I remember in a public setting where race didn't seem to hinder anyone. No one seemed to notice it much. If you were a jerk pushing people, someone always called you out on it, no matter who you were. A white woman wrapped in an American flag stood guard over two older black women who were trying to keep their portable seats from being trampled. Children sat on parents shoulders to catch a
glimpse.It was an amazing day. I'm not thinking about the two hours it took me to walk the two miles back to the apartment. I'm not thinking about the cold and the amount of time it took my face to thaw out.
It was just cool to be there to witness history in the making. It was cool to be a reporter documenting the moment.
It was just cool.
So glad you were able to be there in person. Where's the pictures of you in THE DRESS?
ReplyDeleteI found your blog through doing a search on "Bluegrass Ball" which my wife and I attended. We live in CT but she's originally from Louisville.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, we also have an Inaugural Kentucky story to share. We also were standing near the Washington Monument (between it and the White House, opposite the Ellipse) and somehow struck up a friendly conversation with the family standing next to us. When George H.W. Bush came out we all remarked how he did not look well at all, and I mentioned that we had seen Muhammad Ali the night before and he didn't look well at all. So the gentleman responded that he had gone to school with Muhammad Ali, my wife said "you are from Louisville too!" and one thing led to another. So it seems everyone is connected to everyone else if you look hard enough.