While some other well-connected Arcadians like former and future Mayor Gary Kovacic’s family had planned and made reservations and coordinated VIP tickets to attend Tuesday’s inauguration (Jan. 20, 2009) as soon as the election was over, nothing like that occurred to me until a few days before the inauguration.
by Scott Hettrick
Sitting at my computer and thinking how much I would love to be a part of what was sure to be a historic moment in our nation’s history to see the first Black American, Barack Obama, take the oath of office, I knew there would be a couple million people filling every last hotel room and no reserved seats left at the ceremony. Then it hit me: why would I have to spend the night? Coast-to-coast flights are only 5 hours or six hours, right? And who needs a VIP ticket; I just wanted to be a part of the experience so I’d be happy just getting anywhere on the national mall. Transportation? D.C. has good public transit, right?
I checked online flight reservations and found that United Airlines had a flight leaving LAX about 10:30 p.m. Monday night to get in about 6:30 a.m. Tuesday morning (with the three-hour time difference). Virgin America had the only remaining seat back on any airline for a flight leaving about 4:30 p.m. that same day. The two flights combined would only cost me less than $300. So, after having dinner and watching TV with my wife Betty, she went to bed and I got in my car and drove to LAX Monday night — no luggage and nothing but the clothes and jacket I was wearing. Not even a plan of what to do when I got there. How hard can it be to figure out buses and subways? (Story continues following short video highlights of my experience at inauguration of President Obama…) YouTube:
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Get the Flash Player to see this content. I only got a few minutes of sleep on the plane but adrenaline would keep me alert all day. It was quickly and easily apparent upon arrival where to board a free shuttle bus across the river to the connecting subway station. By the time I got to the station the enormity of this day and the logistical issues quickly became apparent. Throngs of people were making their way downstairs to the machines issuing subway tickets (commemorative, which was a nice keepsake offered by the transit people). But there were multiple lines of thousands of people and it wasn’t immediately clear which lines to stand in.
Something else became immediately apparent — there would be little or no stress about anything on this day because it was clear that everyone had a big smile on their face and were thrilled to be here and more than happy to offer helpful tips and even physical assistance to anyone who needed it. It was a giant gabfest with everyone sharing stories with the stranger next to them about their trip here from Tennessee or Oregon or wherever. Young and middle-aged people of every size and culture with toddlers and elderly grandparents in tow, the latter filled with emotion and marvel about this time in history that they never thought they would see in their lifetime, let alone experience firsthand. Everyone wanted to share in this moment. Everyone was there for the exact same reason and could not have been more joyful about that feeling of hope and renewed patriotism and pride in their country.
Literally swept off her feet After a couple hours of waiting in various lines, I shuffled onto the subway, so tight that at one point the woman in front of me started laughing. When several of us asked what was funny, she said, “My feet are not even touching the floor!” Our bodies were so tightly packed that we were all holding her up. My friend Rick Rhoades would later suggest that moment was a metaphor and he’s right in several respects: we were all swept off our feet and we were all holding up each other’s spirits. But, really, we were simply packed like sardines and that lady got sandwiched!
The subway would only inch along for the next hour or so, with the conductor giving periodic updates about the massive crowds at each station preventing the train from moving forward and possibly being unable to make any of the several stops around the mall due to safety concerns. The conductor’s voice was light, calm and sympathetic, as he noted, “Just remember, we are all One today.” We all smiled in willing agreement, even though concern was starting to creep in that we might not be able to get out or get near the National Mall before the inauguration ceremony began in about an hour.
We got lucky and were let off at a station not too far from the mall. I ran up the stairs and suddenly saw a crowd five times bigger than the 400,000 I was part of at Woodstock 1999 and the Indianapolis 500 in 2001. There appeared to be 400,000 porta-potties amidst this crowd of about two million. I also noticed that it was plenty chilly, not unusual for D.C. in January. But the brisk air actually felt good; it was just as invigorating as everything else about this day.
Finding an ideal vantage point With little time to spare, I walked quickly for many blocks in hopes of getting near the VIP seats at the Capitol where I knew Gary Kovacic and his daughter would be positioned (Gary’s wife Barb, I learned later, opted to sit in Congressman David Dreier’s nearby office and watch the whole thing on TV where it was warm and not crowded). But a decent viewing spot anywhere near the reserved seats was out of the question, and it appeared by the blocks-long lines that even ticket-holders may not get into their reserved seats in time for the start of the ceremony that was just minutes away now. (One woman on the plane ride back with me later would say that she had a VIP reserved ticket but could not make it in, and, in fact, couldn’t even get to a position where she could see any of the ceremony, but it did not seem to dampen her enthusiasm one bit; she just wanted to be amongst the people and be a part of the experience.)
Looking up from my position to view the inauguration. I texted this photo to my daughter Brittany to show her class of 5th grade kids while they watched the inauguration on TV.
So, I walked even more quickly back many blocks to the rise in the green lawn at the Washington monument and found a perfect viewing spot just beneath the circle of flags. To my rear I could see hundreds of thousands of people on the mall between the monument and the Lincoln Memorial. In front of me were more than a million others between me and the Capitol. Everyone was chanting “O-Ba-Ma,” O-Ba-Ma.”
Absorbing, sharing the moment As the ceremony started I took a picture of the Monument next to me looking up through an American flag, which I then texted to my daughter Brittany, a fifth grade school teacher in Missouri who was watching the inauguration with her students. She was thrilled and proud to be able to show her students that her father was among the crowds they were watching on TV, with which they were sharing in the experience halfway across the country.
Barack Obama took the oath; President Obama delivered his speech. The only sound other than his voice was the flags flapping in the wind. That is, until his speech was over, and then hundreds of thousands of tearful Americans were literally dancing and waving flags and banners.
Now, to get back home… With my return flight due to leave in a couple hours, I did not have time to stay for the parade and knew I could not waste any time finding my way back to the subway station. I visualized a route away from the Monument but soon learned that I would not be determining my route for quite awhile. When 2 million people decide to leave a place at the same time, you pretty much have to literally go with the flow; there would be no cutting across the grain. We made our way across the grass and onto a street a few blocks from where I thought I needed to go but kept in step with everyone right down the city streets en masse.
Through all of this, it was remarkable to learn later that in this city that has a history of violence and crime, there would not be a single arrest on inauguration day despite two million people blanketing the National Mall. In fact, I never felt a moment of uneasiness or concern.
People were hanging out balcony windows cheering as we walked (shuffled). The chants of O-Ba-Ma! arose once again. The crowds finally thinned enough that I could make my way back to the correct street and I had no problem finding and boarding my subway or the connecting shuttle bus back to the airport with a half-hour to spare before they began boarding my flight back to LAX about ten hours after I had arrived. I watched the parade live on the back of the seat in front of me on the flight back home while chatting with the passenger nearby about her experience that afternoon from which she was glowing.
By 8 p.m. I was back at home eating dinner with Betty and watching “American Idol.” She had gone to bed when I left the night before and had only been home from work about three hours before I came home. But we decided to spend more time talking about my day than hers over dinner that night.
— By Scott Hettrick