Friday, January 23, 2009
Live from the Inauguration
Union Station is back to business.
It wasn't too long ago when the handsome young President and his stunning wife danced here, gliding across a makeshift stage, in a huge magical place that sparkled in white lights against blue curtains. Today, the cavernous room has morphed back into a train station, the loud music replaced by track announcements, the champagne replaced by Starbucks and I am on my way back home, tired but energized after witnessing the last leg of the extraordinary journey of this audacious young man with the funny name and the jumbled background who has made it from Kenya to Kansas to the White House.
What a weekend!
Everything is in motion! When our train slows down in Philadelphia, word spreads that we are right behind the President-elect’s whistle stop tour. The excitement is palpable as suddenly we find ourselves on track with history. By the time we pull into Baltimore’s Penn station, there, one track over, someone spots what we quickly dub the Obama Unlimited, a sleek Acela decorated in red white and blue bunting. The president- elect has gotten off to speak to supporters blocks away at a downtown rally but you wouldn’t know it by our reaction. We all burst into thunderous cheers and applause, snapping photos, calling friends and chanting “O-ba-ma!” We are eager to claim any inch of this man’s amazing journey.
By the time we arrive at Union Station, Washington DC is already one big festival of history and hope. Everybody has come here to celebrate. There are corporate parties and house parties. Carol Fulp, Vice President of Community Relations at Hancock Financial Services hosts an elegant reception at the historic Willard Hotel where Abraham Lincoln and his family stayed before his inauguration and Martin Luther King put the final touches on his “I have a dream” speech. The Reverends Ray Hammond and Gloria White-Hammond bring the invocation with a rock star flair. Boston's Richard Taylor, Dorothy Terrell and Al Brown, Claudette and Henry Crouse and Ron and Cheryl Homer are in the crowd. Late at night, there is a chili and champagne bash at the home of Hospitality icon, Bud Ward, the first African American senior vice president of Marriott Hotels. His son Chip Ward along with his wife Karen Holmes Ward welcome guests from all over the country including Boston's Duane and Debby Jackson, Carol Kelley and Atlanta's B Maynard Scarborough. Churches hold special Inaugural services. Spelman's Chaplain Lisa Rhodes and Morehouse's President Robert Franklin worship at Howard University's Cranston Hall where Reverend Jeremiah Wright encourages an overflow crowd to follow Barack in letting Jesus step into our stories. Denzel Washington, Tom Hanks, Beyonce and scores of other celebrities are sited among the crowds. The famous and the unknown brush shoulders in a city bursting at the seams, all thrilled to say “I was there” ! Next door to my hotel on New Hampshire Avenue, Delta Sigma Theta, one of the nation’s oldest black sororities, hosts an open house at its national headquarters, where hundreds of women, young and old patiently stand in line to celebrate their sisterhood and take pictures with a life-sized cardboard cutout of Barack. (I keep thinking “if only I brought my cardboard cutout I could make some money!!!!!)
The music is blaring on U Street where standing-room only crowds jam the night clubs and beautiful young couples line up out front of Ben’s Chili Bowl. This is the street where Duke Ellington grew up and Ella Fitzgerald, Pearl Bailey and Cab Calloway once performed. Drive-by entrepreneurs guard their opened car trunks displaying t-shirts, caps, posters, everything bearing the nation’s hottest selling brand name. “Obama -nation!” “Obama Mama!” “Obama the Bomba”! Before he is even sworn in, this daring Illinois politician single handedly generates a booming “street” economy!
There are a few cherished Obama sightings on Washington streets when, with sirens blaring, the stunning motorcade flies by, complete with hovering helicopters and motorcycles and big black suvs flanking a brand new armour plated stretch cadillac as the world’s most powerful man crisscrosses the district, dining with the elite, serving the poor and assuring all of us that he is indeed up to the task. And so are we.
While the scenes are amazing, it is the action of the weekend that is the heart of this new Obama “movement”. New acquaintances and conversations are as available as Obama buttons! While waiting for a train on the Dupont Circle Metro platform, I meet an 80 year old African American woman who, despite bad knees and heart, has taken a 14 hour bus ride into Washington from Nashville, Tennessee. “I’ve prayed for that boy and his family very morning from the moment I first saw him speak on TV. That’s been my job and I had to be here to see him take his new job.”
The weather this weekend is frigid. The nation’s capital is not used to this kind of artic chill; temperatures in the teens, winds whipping across the national mall. Yet, everywhere, the city is warm and flush with hospitality. This swearing in represents a turning point in history and millions from around the world have braved bad weather, circuitous routes, and uncertain times to be here for this spectacular kiaros moment.
Kairos is that point when God takes the lid off of possibilities and anything can happen!
There are free concerts, neighborhood parties and a day of service in which everyone is welcome to participate in anyway they choose. I join a group, led by Boston’s first lady Angela Menino, that helps serve food to more than 50 people at a soup kitchen in the Church of the Epiphany on G Street. For some, this is the first opportunity to spend Martin Luther King Day volunteering in a community. We work with a group from the energetic Youth Services Opportunities Project. All across DC, people are giving time and energy to all kinds of people and programs.
There are probably more volunteers than people being served! How many problems could we solve if there were this many people willing to give of themselves in this way everyday! Once again new connections are made and we all enthusiastically respond to the idea that “everybody can be great because everybody can serve.”
Tuesday morning brings bright sunshine and bone-chilling winds. Two million of us don long johns, ski masks and squeeze hand warmers as we make our way to the capital, each claiming a few inches of soil in the mile long space between the Lincoln Memorial and the Capital steps. Carol Fulp and I get to the Capital by 7:30 confident that we are early enough to find a good position in the coveted seated section closest to the swearing in ceremonies only to discover that thousands of others have been in line for the same section since 4:30 this morning. We run into Bennie Wiley and her beautiful daughter B.J. and the four of us chatter as the long line slowly snakes it way to the security checkpoint. It takes more than two hours to reach our seats. There are no complaints! 2 million people are standing behind us!
.
Our view of the proceedings enhanced by one of scores of giant television monitors, we chant, cheer, and cry as the Swearing In Ceremony gets underway. The booming voice of an announcer explains each step and participant in the proceedings, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the joint chiefs of staff...” “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Congress of the United States...” As each group steps out into the West Front of the Capital, it becomes clearer to me just how momentous this transfer of power really is. Democracy, from this "upclose, in living color" perspective is breathtaking!
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the President-elect of the United States” As Barack Obama confidently makes his way into the magnificence of the scene. I am struck by his youth and vulnerability. Many of us have made him into Jesus, but he is only a man. What could be going through his mind as he takes in this sea of humanity stretching out in all directions before him? My tears flow. I am overcome by the sheer weight of the world on this young man’s shoulders.
“Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.”
In the days and weeks ahead, there will be much commentary and critique of Barack Obama’s inaugural address. His every word and movement will be analyzed and dissected, perhaps more than any other president in the history of this amazing country. He will make mistakes. There will be questionable decisions. And right or wrong, he will always be second-guessed. But on this day everything is perfect. The message is clear. Barack Obama is the message.
Before this day, I have never paid attention to a presidential swearing in. It never seemed to have anything to do with me. It was somebody else’s moment. It belonged to some other America. This morning I watch closely. I hungrily absorb the atmosphere and drink in its beauty. I am holding the bible for this bold young hero. I am delivering the oath (without mistake of course). I am a part of this. I helped make it possible.
This is Barack’s moment. It is America’s moment. It is mine.
It wasn't too long ago when the handsome young President and his stunning wife danced here, gliding across a makeshift stage, in a huge magical place that sparkled in white lights against blue curtains. Today, the cavernous room has morphed back into a train station, the loud music replaced by track announcements, the champagne replaced by Starbucks and I am on my way back home, tired but energized after witnessing the last leg of the extraordinary journey of this audacious young man with the funny name and the jumbled background who has made it from Kenya to Kansas to the White House.
What a weekend!
Everything is in motion! When our train slows down in Philadelphia, word spreads that we are right behind the President-elect’s whistle stop tour. The excitement is palpable as suddenly we find ourselves on track with history. By the time we pull into Baltimore’s Penn station, there, one track over, someone spots what we quickly dub the Obama Unlimited, a sleek Acela decorated in red white and blue bunting. The president- elect has gotten off to speak to supporters blocks away at a downtown rally but you wouldn’t know it by our reaction. We all burst into thunderous cheers and applause, snapping photos, calling friends and chanting “O-ba-ma!” We are eager to claim any inch of this man’s amazing journey.
By the time we arrive at Union Station, Washington DC is already one big festival of history and hope. Everybody has come here to celebrate. There are corporate parties and house parties. Carol Fulp, Vice President of Community Relations at Hancock Financial Services hosts an elegant reception at the historic Willard Hotel where Abraham Lincoln and his family stayed before his inauguration and Martin Luther King put the final touches on his “I have a dream” speech. The Reverends Ray Hammond and Gloria White-Hammond bring the invocation with a rock star flair. Boston's Richard Taylor, Dorothy Terrell and Al Brown, Claudette and Henry Crouse and Ron and Cheryl Homer are in the crowd. Late at night, there is a chili and champagne bash at the home of Hospitality icon, Bud Ward, the first African American senior vice president of Marriott Hotels. His son Chip Ward along with his wife Karen Holmes Ward welcome guests from all over the country including Boston's Duane and Debby Jackson, Carol Kelley and Atlanta's B Maynard Scarborough. Churches hold special Inaugural services. Spelman's Chaplain Lisa Rhodes and Morehouse's President Robert Franklin worship at Howard University's Cranston Hall where Reverend Jeremiah Wright encourages an overflow crowd to follow Barack in letting Jesus step into our stories. Denzel Washington, Tom Hanks, Beyonce and scores of other celebrities are sited among the crowds. The famous and the unknown brush shoulders in a city bursting at the seams, all thrilled to say “I was there” ! Next door to my hotel on New Hampshire Avenue, Delta Sigma Theta, one of the nation’s oldest black sororities, hosts an open house at its national headquarters, where hundreds of women, young and old patiently stand in line to celebrate their sisterhood and take pictures with a life-sized cardboard cutout of Barack. (I keep thinking “if only I brought my cardboard cutout I could make some money!!!!!)
The music is blaring on U Street where standing-room only crowds jam the night clubs and beautiful young couples line up out front of Ben’s Chili Bowl. This is the street where Duke Ellington grew up and Ella Fitzgerald, Pearl Bailey and Cab Calloway once performed. Drive-by entrepreneurs guard their opened car trunks displaying t-shirts, caps, posters, everything bearing the nation’s hottest selling brand name. “Obama -nation!” “Obama Mama!” “Obama the Bomba”! Before he is even sworn in, this daring Illinois politician single handedly generates a booming “street” economy!
There are a few cherished Obama sightings on Washington streets when, with sirens blaring, the stunning motorcade flies by, complete with hovering helicopters and motorcycles and big black suvs flanking a brand new armour plated stretch cadillac as the world’s most powerful man crisscrosses the district, dining with the elite, serving the poor and assuring all of us that he is indeed up to the task. And so are we.
While the scenes are amazing, it is the action of the weekend that is the heart of this new Obama “movement”. New acquaintances and conversations are as available as Obama buttons! While waiting for a train on the Dupont Circle Metro platform, I meet an 80 year old African American woman who, despite bad knees and heart, has taken a 14 hour bus ride into Washington from Nashville, Tennessee. “I’ve prayed for that boy and his family very morning from the moment I first saw him speak on TV. That’s been my job and I had to be here to see him take his new job.”
The weather this weekend is frigid. The nation’s capital is not used to this kind of artic chill; temperatures in the teens, winds whipping across the national mall. Yet, everywhere, the city is warm and flush with hospitality. This swearing in represents a turning point in history and millions from around the world have braved bad weather, circuitous routes, and uncertain times to be here for this spectacular kiaros moment.
Kairos is that point when God takes the lid off of possibilities and anything can happen!
There are free concerts, neighborhood parties and a day of service in which everyone is welcome to participate in anyway they choose. I join a group, led by Boston’s first lady Angela Menino, that helps serve food to more than 50 people at a soup kitchen in the Church of the Epiphany on G Street. For some, this is the first opportunity to spend Martin Luther King Day volunteering in a community. We work with a group from the energetic Youth Services Opportunities Project. All across DC, people are giving time and energy to all kinds of people and programs.
There are probably more volunteers than people being served! How many problems could we solve if there were this many people willing to give of themselves in this way everyday! Once again new connections are made and we all enthusiastically respond to the idea that “everybody can be great because everybody can serve.”
Tuesday morning brings bright sunshine and bone-chilling winds. Two million of us don long johns, ski masks and squeeze hand warmers as we make our way to the capital, each claiming a few inches of soil in the mile long space between the Lincoln Memorial and the Capital steps. Carol Fulp and I get to the Capital by 7:30 confident that we are early enough to find a good position in the coveted seated section closest to the swearing in ceremonies only to discover that thousands of others have been in line for the same section since 4:30 this morning. We run into Bennie Wiley and her beautiful daughter B.J. and the four of us chatter as the long line slowly snakes it way to the security checkpoint. It takes more than two hours to reach our seats. There are no complaints! 2 million people are standing behind us!
.
Our view of the proceedings enhanced by one of scores of giant television monitors, we chant, cheer, and cry as the Swearing In Ceremony gets underway. The booming voice of an announcer explains each step and participant in the proceedings, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the joint chiefs of staff...” “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Congress of the United States...” As each group steps out into the West Front of the Capital, it becomes clearer to me just how momentous this transfer of power really is. Democracy, from this "upclose, in living color" perspective is breathtaking!
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the President-elect of the United States” As Barack Obama confidently makes his way into the magnificence of the scene. I am struck by his youth and vulnerability. Many of us have made him into Jesus, but he is only a man. What could be going through his mind as he takes in this sea of humanity stretching out in all directions before him? My tears flow. I am overcome by the sheer weight of the world on this young man’s shoulders.
“Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.”
In the days and weeks ahead, there will be much commentary and critique of Barack Obama’s inaugural address. His every word and movement will be analyzed and dissected, perhaps more than any other president in the history of this amazing country. He will make mistakes. There will be questionable decisions. And right or wrong, he will always be second-guessed. But on this day everything is perfect. The message is clear. Barack Obama is the message.
Before this day, I have never paid attention to a presidential swearing in. It never seemed to have anything to do with me. It was somebody else’s moment. It belonged to some other America. This morning I watch closely. I hungrily absorb the atmosphere and drink in its beauty. I am holding the bible for this bold young hero. I am delivering the oath (without mistake of course). I am a part of this. I helped make it possible.
This is Barack’s moment. It is America’s moment. It is mine.
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