Sophie Franke lives in Pahrump. I met Sophie a few years ago when we both participated in a demonstration, here in Pahrump, over traffic conditions which had resulted in a number of serious accidents, some fatal. We wanted the government to install traffic signals in an effort to stem the mounting deaths and accidents. Nothing has been done about it as yet. Sophie sent me an article written by David Franke. He writes–very well I might add. He has graciously consented to allow me to post what he wrote about witnessing the historic inauguration. My sincere thanks to David for sharing the experience. Here it is:
My Experiences at the Obama Inauguration
By David Franke
Late in the week before the inauguration, I got a call from my youngest brother Danny. He had requested tickets to the Obama inauguration, and to his own surprise received two from his congressman in West Virginia. His daughter was an enthusiastic Obama fan, but she was having semester final exams that day and college entrance exams later in the week. I gladly took her place.
The irony was that just a half hour before I got Danny’s call, I was talking on the telephone to a friend who knew I had voted for Obama. She asked if I was going to the inauguration, and I replied that I wouldn’t go even if I got a ticket, because of the expected crowd and cold weather. Well, it turned out that was fine to say when I thought I had no chance to get a ticket, but the moment I had a ticket I changed my mind. Also, my brother would be staying at my house and it is rare that we have an opportunity to spend three nights and two days together without family interruptions.
Danny arrived late on Sunday, and the inauguration was on Tuesday. We had to pick up the tickets from his congressman on Monday because none of the congressmen got their allotment of tickets before then.
(A ticket gave you space closer to the steps of the Capitol where the events took place. People without tickets would be packed on the Mall further away, and would have to rely on movie-size screens to show them what was happening way off in the distance.)
Monday: A preview of the crowds to come
Danny and I had breakfast and headed for Washington on the Metro (subway). I live in Manassas, Virginia, but the closest Metro station is in Vienna, Virginia—about 45 minutes from home, and then another 45 minutes to the Capitol Hill station where we would exit in Washington. Traffic was heavy for a holiday (Monday was Martin Luther King’s birthday), but we got seats.
For those 45 minutes, we had a wonderful conversation with an African-American family from Chicago. They were picking up tickets from their Illinois congressman, so we were getting off at the same station. They had a bright and articulate 13-year-old son, and any time any of us adults posed a question about American government and politics, he would good-naturedly jump in to give us the answer. Danny has a 13-year-old son, and the parents were in agreement: Yes, 13-year-olds know everything! (And are not hesitant to let their parents know it!) I remembered in amusement that I had become interested—no, obsessed—with politics at age 13, and was the same way.
Exiting from the Metro train gave us a preview of what we would face for the next two days. You have to take escalators to get to the ground level, and the crowds were so packed that you couldn’t get off the escalator once you got to the top. They had to turn off the escalators, and everyone had to walk up. Nobody wanted to have to jog on a moving escalator while trying to get off. That can be dangerous—and scary.
Thankfully someone on the Metro staff also realized they had a dangerous situation with such crowds, and just opened the toll gates. Nobody had to pay for the Metro ride with their farecard—we just walked through.
Once we got out on the street, we saw the huge crowds and long lines of people waiting to get into the congressional office buildings to get their tickets. I don’t know how many thousands of people got these tickets, but they were in the thousands. Luckily for us, we had just joined the end of the very long line waiting to get into the Rayburn House Office Building when a man—a saint—said to us as he walked by: “You can get in through the staff entrance at the back of the building, and there is no line. They are letting the general public enter there today, and that’s how we just got our tickets.”
We took his advice, and sure enough, he was right. We went right in and got the tickets from Danny’s congressman. The security check at the staff entrance was fast and minimal, unlike the more extensive security check at the main public entrance. When we left the building, we asked people who were about ready to enter: how long had they been waiting in line? Over an hour, they replied. Our anonymous saint had saved us that long wait in the cold.
We walked down Capitol Hill to the Mall, and went through the Botanical Garden and then the Smithsonian Museum of the American Indian. They had several interesting exhibits and a continuous weekend program of popular music concerts—not just Indian music, but all types of folk music of cultures from around the world.
At 3:00 pm we met our niece Gretchen (one of brother Durwood’s daughters) and her husband Chris for lunch at Oyamel Restaurant in the Penn Quarter neighborhood of Washington. They serve excellent Mexican food—real Mexican, not border Mexican or Tex-Mex—and despite the packed crowd inside and outside the restaurant, service was as great as the food. Gretchen and Chris planned to spend Inauguration Day at a friend’s apartment in a building on Pennsylvania Avenue, where they could get glimpses of the inaugural parade from the roof. We had a fun time catching up on news—Gretchen is going through her Foreign Service training, and they will know in February where she will be assigned, and where in the world they will be living for the next two years.
After our meal, Danny and I wandered around the streets close to the Mall, taking in the scene of hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of Obama souvenirs—t-shirts, coffee mugs, postcards, posters, jewelry, everything you could think of. Never before in my life have I seen this many vendors selling such a variety of wares at a political (or musical) event. It was an Obama flea market, and the vendors were as good natured as the crowds. One offered a “free poster,” but just asked for a $10 tip. Another was shouting, about his item, “Only $2, and two for $5.” But their prices were cheap compared to other events, and they would say “Have a great day; God bless you” even if you didn’t buy anything after looking. Almost all of these entrepreneurs were African-Americans, and they were as overjoyed as everyone else over what was happening this week.
We stopped by the MSNBC temporary studio on the Mall—another mob scene. It had picture windows so everyone could see Chris Matthews conducting his “Hardball” show inside. At one point Chris came outside to talk to some of the crowd, and of course he was mobbed. Even conservative Pat Buchanan got cheers from the crowd when he furtively rushed inside to the studio. Danny and I worked our way to the rope separating the crowd from the studio building, and suddenly I found myself across the rope from MSNBC contributing commentator Michelle Bernard, who had previously been head of a conservative women’s group. I have to say, she was even more beautiful in person than she is on TV. And very gracious. It was freezing outside and she was dressed for inside the studio, but she patiently posed for pictures with the young black women who were her fans, and talked to them, never rushing them.
By the time we got home, it had been a long, tiring, but fun day.
Tuesday: This is the big one
Virginia Railway Express (VRE) is a commuter line that starts in Manassas and goes to Washington. They had a special schedule on Inauguration Day. You had to have a reserved seat on a specific train. By the time Danny and I knew we were going to the inauguration, almost all of the seats were sold out and only one train had any seats left. I had to get up at 4:30 am the previous Thursday to drive in heavy traffic to get to their headquarters in Alexandria, Virginia, when they opened at 7:00 am. I got us two of the last roundtrip tickets still available, and got back home to work at 9:00 am.
The effort was worth it, because VRE is an excellent train system and now we had comfortable reserved seats to the inauguration and back in the evening. I knew that the crowds on Inauguration Day would be horrendous on the Metro, and indeed, I read in the Washington Post the next day that by 5:30 am, the line of cars trying to get into the Vienna Metro parking lot (the one we would have had to use if we didn’t have train tickets) was over two miles long.
Our train left Manassas at 5:51 am and arrived at L’Enfant Plaza (in Washington, D.C.) at 6:53 am. Now, normally it takes me 10-12 minutes to walk the seven blocks to Capitol Hill. But today it took us over an hour to push our way through the staggering crowds, and it was 8:00 am before we arrived at our destination on Capitol Hill.
Tickets to the inauguration were color-coded. We had Orange Gate tickets. You had to wait in a line at the gate for your color group, and entrance would begin at 9:00 am. Well, by the time we arrived at the Rayburn House Office Building at 8:00 am, the line for the Orange Gate was over a mile long. We joined the line, and before long there was another mile of people waiting in line behind us.
Again we were lucky, though. Our Orange Gate line was very organized in alternating half circles, two people by two people all the way down the line. That mob scene we had just pushed through? They were the sardines waiting to get in through the Blue Gate and Silver Gate. No organization there.
Everyone had to go through a security check before they could go through the gate. Our security checkpoint was large and had about 12 stations, so we got through it relatively fast. The security check here was thorough, but not unreasonable the way it can be at American airports. We were able to bring in bottled water and sandwiches (no food stations on the Mall), and we didn’t have to take off our shoes!
We got into our Orange Gate standing area by 9:30 am. (Only VIPs and their families get the seated areas.) We had a couple of hours before the inaugural ceremonies would begin, but we talked to each other and talked to the people around us, and the time passed fairly fast. Again we were lucky: We had beautiful weather. Yes, it was cold, but the sky was clear—no rain, no snow, which would have been a real problem since security wouldn’t allow umbrellas in the ticketed areas. And Danny and I had both bought thermal underwear for the occasion. Our thermal underwear, aided by our sweaters, coats, hats, scarfs, and gloves, kept us pretty comfortable.
We were only about 100 yards from where Obama would take the oath of office and give his inaugural address, but the disappointment was that we couldn’t directly see him—bleachers for the VIPs were blocking our view. So we had to rely on the huge screen in front of our area. Actually, the seated people who did have views didn’t see as much as we did, because on the screen we saw all the celebrities arriving and going through the halls of the Capitol Building, with commentary about what was happening.
The crowd was so good-natured and happy, it didn’t even boo when Bush and Cheney were on the screen, and instead there was a slight scattering of polite applause even for them. The only person who got sneers and boos was Senator Lieberman, a Democrat who had supported Obama’s Republican rival, John McCain. Lieberman got a turncoat’s welcome from this Democratic crowd.
The heaviest applause, as expected, came after Obama took the oath of office and now was officially President Obama. His speech got polite but not deafening applause. For one thing, this was not a campaign event but a celebration—the victory had already been won. For another, it was damn cold and everyone had gloves on, so you got a muffled applause.
Also, President Obama had toned down his rhetoric to emphasize the tough times ahead. He knows he won’t be able to meet all the expectations of his most ardent supporters, and has been trying to prepare them for the grim reality after the victory celebrations. Of course, as a liberal Democrat he’s just like the Republicans in expecting the government to “save” us from the problems it has created, and I expected that. But I love the fact we now have a President who can speak coherently, indeed eloquently—I won’t have to be embarrassed for my country every time he opens his mouth, the way it’s been for the past eight years. And there were some pleasant surprises, such as the specific outreach to Muslims, and including “nonbelievers” in his list of religious groupings. I believe he is the first president to do that, and as a practicing agnostic I appreciate that. He really does want to be a uniter.
Happy days are here again—well, at least for a day
I voted for Obama, despite our very different political views, primarily because of the war issue. I am convinced that if McCain had been elected, we would be at war with Iran today or very soon in the future. The War Party would have been given the green light to get us in a catastrophic third war. I am fairly confident that Obama views war as the final option, not the first option.
Concurrently, as you might expect by now, I voted for Obama to kick out the corrupt and incompetent Republicans. Better to get a new class of corrupt and incompetent politicians than to award the old ones. Never vote for the same politician more than once.
Those are the two reasons I voted for Obama, but voting for him has already resulted in additional bonus rewards. I’ve already alluded to his eloquence. Now I won’t have to shut off the TV every time the president is on air, otherwise risking a blood pressure eruption.
An even more important bonus is what his election has done to heal our nation’s racial wounds. It won’t erase them, but it is an immensely important step forward.
I can only attempt to imagine what it must mean to an African-American that, with our legacy of slavery and Jim Crow, one of their own is now in the White House. His eloquence and his beautiful family are icing on the cake. I can only imagine how they feel, but I can see it in their faces.
I have now lived in Washington longer than in my native Texas. Washington was a segregated southern city when I came here as a teenager, my own attitudes largely reflecting the times. The nadir of our race relations was in the aftermath of the Martin Luther King assassination. I took refuge in the Capitol Hill apartment of my future wife, with her brother, and from her window we could see the dome of the Capitol Building outlined by flames and clouds of smoke in the background. Washington was burning. And when we ventured outside, armed police with aggressive dogs were on every street corner.
That was then, this is now, and it’s been a long, hard road in between.
Never before in my life have I experienced what I experienced these past few days. Smiling faces—black and white faces—everywhere you go. The happiest mob scene imaginable. No sullen looks, no racial wariness when you’re surrounded by the Other. People volunteering to help you, regardless of race, if you look confused about where you need to go—and there was a lot of that, with this many vi
sitors in town. Spontaneous greetings and discussions with people you don’t know, and will never see again. And always, the smiles that say the unspoken: Isn’t this a great day! It was enough to make a person giddy.
One message came across loud and clear these past few days—that all along the blacks really have wanted only one thing: to be part of the system, not just victims of the system. We whites don’t deserve to be so lucky—that is a velvet revolution, not a Bolshevik revolution.
I know it’s not realistic to believe it will always be this easy. But it’s wonderful while it lasts. And it behooves each one of us to try and make it last as long as possible.
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From one Texan to another – very interesting account of the day, and very well written, enjoyed it. The clincher is the point you make in the last two paragraphs – which is true of all the other excluded groups we could name. Good job bud.
Thanks for the comment Russ. David Franke’s account was also, to me, very well written.
Best regards