I felt better by last night and had a fun evening with Joe, Molly and Emily, who came over for dinner and were going to play games, but we were all too stuffed to move after eating, so just sat around chatting.
Fortunately, my cold had gone by this morning and today rivaled only my wedding as the greatest day of my life. I still can't get my head around what I witnessed, the importance of it, and how weirdly mellow and easy my day was, despite sharing a very small slice of the city with 1.8 million people.
We convened with Megan, Jonathan, Kerry Dan, Angular Dan and Angular Dan's sister and her boyfriend on our landing at 7.30am this morning. The musical interludes were due to start at 10.30am and the ceremony at 11.30am, so we figured three hours should be plenty of time to get through security etc and stake our spot. Whoops. Max came with us, but I had to say goodbye to him as he was going to the office to spend the day inside, fielding submissions from his correspondents out in the field. I was really sad to miss sharing with him yet another big part of the exciting election we came here to experience. There was already a spattering of people on the streets at 7.30am, but that spattering turned into a massive crush of crowds when we got down into Dupont Circle metro station and every train that arrived was rammed with people, so - being a group of about 9 - we had to let several trains pass without getting on them, before we just squished onto one, giving up any complexes we had about personal space. Kerry Dan finally got us onto a train by saying, "make room - it's a special day"!
At this point I should explain that I was wearing nearly every piece of clothing that I own. I had tights and thick socks on, jeans underneath my furry tracksuit bottoms, a vest, two long-sleeved t-shirts, a cashmere polo neck, a fleece on top of that, my jacket made from a duvet and then my cagoul on top of that (there was a 50% chance of snow). Oh, and little sachets of hot rocks in my trainers, a scarf, gloves and a hat (with spare gloves and hat in my pocket, just in case). So you can imagine how uncomfortable it was to not only be forcibly inserted into someone's armpit, but experience my body temperature reaching dangerously high levels. And on top of all this, ever since getting stuck underground on the New York subway for two hours in a big blackout back in '03, I have a deep-seated fear of the underground and crowds and getting stuck.
This pedigree of panic didn't stand me in great stead when, having said goodbye to our friends with fancier tickets than us who had to go to different gates, my Inauguration posse (Dan, Dan and Dan's sister Becca and her boyfriend Joey who'd come down from Boston) and I disembarked at L'Enfant Plaza metro station, only to find out that about 1.7million of the 1.8million people in DC had had the same idea and we were in a solid crush of people all trying to get out of the station. It was obvious things weren't going anywhere, so we headed down to a different platform to get a train along to the next stop, only to discover that the trains weren't letting people off - they weren't opening their doors - because L'Enfant Plaza was just jammed with people. All the escalators were solid with static crowds and no-one was going anywhere. Things got really hairy when we heard someone upstairs say over a loudhailer, 'close the gates' and the crowd up there erupted, prompting loud hailer person to say, 'stop pushing and shoving'.
Although we were downstairs, where there was quite a bit of space, to not be able to leave - either from the exit or on a train - very quickly became utterly terrifying to me, especially as Angular Dan started speculating about just how many people there must be outside the station for the people inside not to be able to get out. What I needed was for someone to calmly explain it was all going to be ok and we just had to sit it out and eventually the crowds would dissipate, but instead I was stuck with the most pessimistic people ever who put the fear of God into me about what may be happening. So, shedding several layers, I called Max for a calm voice, only to discover that things were so bad above ground that Matt Lauer had missed the beginning of the Today programme, because he couldn't get into position on the Mall in time and loads of the BBC correspondents were having a nightmare getting to where they needed to be.
It was a blessing in disguise that I was with people I'd only just met, because I think if I'd known them better, I would've felt comfortable just completely losing the plot, but I had to keep it together and eventually people on the escalators started moving and trains finally started opening their doors and we were on our way. Although the platform we emerged onto was rammed with people when we arrived at our destination, the crowd was moving pretty steadily and security people were keeping things going. Chants of 'Obama, Obama' broke out as we slowly made our way up the rammed escalator and never have I been so happy to breathe air as when we finally got outside. Woo!
The streets were obviously teeming with people, but not in a big surging crowd, just lots of people dashing about everywhere and we were soon directed to the queue for silver ticketholders and started trying to find the back of it. The gates had only just opened, so the queue wasn't moving and we walked and walked and walked and walked - probably for about a mile, certainly all the way back to L'Enfant Plaza (aka Metro Station of Doom) - along the neverending line. Pessimistic Dan (who I actually have to re-name Cap'n Dan, because he led us around very effectively) was freaking out that we were going to miss the ceremony, but it says a lot about where Obama and history come in relation to breathing fresh air and getting to live on my list of priorities, as I didn't much care what we missed, just so long as we weren't trapped underground anymore.
So we were walking and walking, periodically checking that the people in the line were silver ticketholders, until we rounded a corner and I spotted four people in old-school naval uniforms that I swear I'd seen in line about 10 mins earlier. It rapidly transpired that it was a CIRCULAR LINE!! A line with literally no end! An existential vision of hellish futility. Cap'n Dan sought help from one of the many volunteers and we were soon on our way to the actual silver ticketholders' line and I only hope that Dan made it clear to the volunteers that they had to go and rescue those poor queuers who were destined for disappointment if they didn't break out of the ninth literal circle of hell.
Once on the correct path, we got to the security line no problem and didn't even have to queue. Soon we were inside the silver area, which was a standing area behind the reflecting pool in front of the Capitol. So all the seats were between the Capitol and the pool and we were standing behind and the Mall was stretching back behind us to the Washington Monument. We were towards the back of the area, but had a great view of the Capitol and a jumbo screen and I felt a guilty thrill when I looked at how jampacked the Mall was behind us, wondering how early the people right at the front of the hoi-paloi section must've got there and how squished in they were, compared to us, who could roam around and see lots and nip to one of the many loos if we wanted to, under the watchful eye of many snipers on the rooftops around us.
life in the silver ticketholders' area - lots of space...
...all under the watchful eye of these guys
the gang! Becca, Joey, me, Dan & Cap'n Dan
There was a big camera scaffold directly in front of the podium, so no-one could see the stage where Obama and Biden were going to get sworn in, but the screen came in handy for that and it was fun to have Dan and Dan identify the politicians for me, as they came out onto the stage. I kind of lost track of time all day long, but I think we got to our positions at about 9.45/10am. At one point, Joey and Cap'n Dan lent me their knees to give me a boost up and see the mass of people behind us, stretching all the way down the Mall. It was extraordinary.
I've never been to anything historic before - I was in Jersey for Princess Di's funeral, I watched Millenium Eve from the crags above Edinburgh and I can't think of anything like that that's happened that I'd actually like to've been at. So it was amazing to be part of this and the atmosphere in the crowd was just one of great excitement and happiness and cooperation - people talking to strangers and no Glastonbury-esque aggro of people jostling for position.
Occasionally chants of 'Obama' or 'Yes We Can' would come from all the way down the Mall behind us, reaching us a bit like a wave gathering strength, and it was fun to spot celebrities picked up on the big screen. Queen Oprah was there, of course, as was Jay-Z wearing an absurdly enormous fur hat, P Diddy and beautiful Beyonce (it was really funny to hear Cap'n Dan, who'd spent all morning in intense political discussion with Kerry Dan, spot Beyonce and say, "her hair is so lovely"!) and - inexplicably - John Cusack. Which kind of annoyed me. Just because you're an actor, you get to sit up on the stage for a front-row seat to this amazing event? Pah.
Once the politicians started emerging to take their seats, it was interesting to see who got cheered when they appeared on the screens (Kerry, Gore, Barney Frank, Colin Powell) and was quite funny when McCain came and went on screen without much event, but when Lieberman appeared, he got a deafening boo from nearly 2 million people! Cheney looked extremely sinister, in his wheelchair - a terrifying combination of Mr Potter from 'It's A Wonderful Life', Blowfeld and Dr Strangelove - and much discussion was had in our group as to whether to boo Bush, but we pretty soon resolved not to (though I was tempted to start a slow clap...). In fact, when he first appeared on screen, he was walking down a corridor within the Capitol with Obama, which was a very clever move. And when he came out onto the stage, there were some boos, but so many people around us clapped, saying he's their President and you have to have respect for that.
I was amazed to see how doddery Bush Sr (or '41' as he's known in the West Wing, to distinguish from '43' - George W. Bush - which is easier and a bit more respectful than 'jr' and 'sr') was on his cane (apparently he's just had hip surgery) and interested to see that Hillary came out as Bill's wife, rather than with the new cabinet. Sasha and Malia looked unfeasibly pretty and calm, bringing the first of many tears to my eyes. And obviously the place erupted when Obama finally appeared. It was really happening!
We had really bad sound issues throughout the ceremony - sometimes the speakers feeding our part of the crowd just didn't work, and other times we were getting sound from three different sets of speakers with three different time delays, giving an eery sci-fi feel to what was being said. I was interested that Rick Warren got no boos, despite being staunchly pro-Prop 8 and a controversial choice for the invocation, but the Dans were thrilled when he included the 'non-believers' in the religious groups to be blessed by God. It was awesome to hear Aretha Franklin sing (albeit the British national anthem with different words) in her amazing hat, then Biden was sworn in to great cheers, Yo-Yo Ma and pals did a John Williams-composed musical interlude (I could see them quite well through my binoculars, as they were above the podium obscured by the big scaffold) - that Itzhak Perlman plays a mean violin (and Kerry Dan used to play in a band with his son, who apparently is a 'dirty' drummer and very good singer!) and then it was time for the Big Event.
Everyone around us was very quiet, trying to hear Obama getting sworn in, but the sound was really bad. Apparently there were quite a few fluffs in the saying of the oath, but we didn't catch them. Nevertheless, I was just weeping and weeping at the significance of the occasion, not only in the context of his being the first African American to become President in a pretty racist country, but at what this represents for America and the world going into the future. I've always said that Obama's going to far transcend however long his time in office as President is - he's going to be one of the key historical figures of our generation - but just as his term will be bigger than the Presidency, I think his Presidency is going to be bigger than America. This is a great, great thing for the world and we're all going to feel the effects of someone with such intelligence, integrity, vision and heart being the leader of the free world.
There was much hugging and cheering and chanting of 'yes we can' as Obama took to the podium to deliver his speech and I was amazed by how bold his speech was. He was standing in front of Bush and Clinton, but effectively saying, 'play time is over, now let's get down to serious business'. It was amazingly brave for him to just be like, 'right, I'm in charge now and we're actually going to get something done', the implication being that the people behind him had messed it up for some time. I loved his defiance to the rest of the world, that America is no longer to be messed with, and the line, "we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist".
the President of the United States speaks
I recorded the whole thing on my camcorder, but from time to time had to remind myself that I was actually watching Obama, that I was present at this extraordinary event while it was happening and that I should really savour that, rather than just desperately trying to record it for posterity (along with thousands of other people with little glowing screens of cameras held aloft above the be-hatted crowd).
The speech was really well received and everyone cheered at the right points. The sound of applause was really funny, because most of the millions were wearing gloves, so it was this weird muted sound. But the cheers made up the volume where the hands fell short. I will be interested to see whether there was an "ask not what your country can do for you..." line that defines the speech, as I couldn't really detect one, but I just liked his confidence and sense of purpose and certainly Kerry Dan was really impressed afterwards, and he knows a thing or two about speeches.
Much weeping, hugging and looks of, 'it's actually happened!' followed and then we all started leaving the Mall as the poet lady did her thing, mainly because the speakers had given up the ghost by then. The silver section was only exitable from one side of the Mall, so all the crowds which had arrived in stages were now pouring into a tiny street all at the same time. But it was incredibly calm and friendly and although we were moving at a slower-than-snail's pace, the atmosphere was one of great happiness and shared experience. I felt sorry for the children we saw in the crowd, as they were totally enclosed by thighs and probably thought they'd never see
the sky again. We made friends with a couple from Kentucky - Saniqa and Keith - because I took a photo of Saniqa's hat and we got chatting. They were keen to stick to us, as they didn't know the city, so we tried to all stick together, but it proved a bit difficult. At one point, George W. Bush flew overhead in a helicopter and we all wished him an empassioned farewell. Apparently when Reagan made the same journey over the crowds on the Mall in 1989, it was the first time his assistant saw him cry. Though I should imagine W just thought we were all cheering because we like him so much.
There was a very tame attempt at rebellion, when some of the crowd pulled down fences around the museum we were filing past, but they were turned back and sheepishly had to re-join the masses. Before too long, we were able to walk a bit more freely and headed for the 3rd St tunnel, to get back under the Mall to the north side of Pennsylvania Ave. It was really moving to see how diverse the crowd was, in terms of age, ethnicity and even mobility - I saw an old overweight African American couple struggling along the street, for whom all this walking must've been really difficult, but they did it anyway to be part of history. As we were walking along, under the guidance of Cap'n Dan, I passed a man talking on his mobile, saying he'd got stuck at L'Enfant Plaza for 2 hours that morning, which made me feel better about our by comparison mini-ordeal.
As I say, despite the streets teeming with crowds, everything felt very calm. There wasn't much
of an obvious police or military presence, and people were just pootling along, taking as long as it took. We headed down to the tunnel and it was amazing to see the 3-lane freeway full of people, with pedestrians walking underneath those gigantic motorway signs above the road. It was really fun to walk through the tunnel - I like walking where usually only cars go - and I'm pleased that at that stage I knew nothing of the Purple Tunnel of Doom (thousands of purple ticket holders were stuck in the 3rd St tunnel for two hours and missed the ceremony, because the tunnel was blocked off by security for no apparent reason - it's a massive scandal now and makes my blood run cold).
While walking through the tunnel, my mobile beeped with all the messages that hadn't been able to get through while the entire city was texting earlier, and I had a quick chat with Maxy, who was up to his eyes in incoming dispatches at the Bureau, but apparently cried as he was watching the ceremony.
After the tunnel, I parted ways with my gang (left) to whom I was very attached and with whom
I'd had such a lovely time - I felt really looked after and the Dans were terrific company - because I had been invited to a reception in an office overlooking the parade route. I was sorely tempted just to stick with my new friends, as they were going to a house party for the afternoon, but figured I should at least try to get to the privileged vantage point I'd been offered. After a brief bit of separation anxiety, I actually quite enjoyed wandering along the now far less busy streets by myself, soaking in the atmosphere of the streets of Chinatown lined with stands and stalls selling everything with Obama's face on it - from badges, posters, beanie hats and t-shirts to air fresheners, weird certificates, plaques and goodness knows what else. It was funny to hear one vendor say everything was half price, as if now the Inauguration had happened, the stuff was somehow out of date.
um, I ain't no historian, but...
by far my favourite t-shirt of the day
I was allowed a guest at the reception, so had invited Alison, to cheer her up after her breakup with Brewster. I gave her name for the secret service check a few weeks ago, but she had got to Chinatown much earlier and discovered the security checkpoint you had to go through to get onto Pennsylvania Ave was closed, so she was holed up in a bar with Emily. I was a bit relieved and planned to head to the house party, but figured I should at least check out how long the lines were to get onto the parade route, despite a policeman confirming what Alison had told me, that an hour earlier, the checkpoints were closed because the parade route was full. When I got to the checkpoint, it seemed to be open and the crowd was really small, so with something of a heavy heart (I wasn't too fussed about the parade), I thought I might as well join the queue for a little while and bail when it got too boring.
I quickly made friends with the people around me. There were two families who didn't know each other, but when they discovered each other was from Brooklyn, became firm friends. And I chatted with an Indian lady who'd been volunteering earlier that day, despite not being an American citizen - she was just so excited to be there and wanted to support Obama. One of the Brooklyn ladies told me a story which I wonder now might be apocryphal. Her cousin was dying of cancer in a hospice during the election and was unable to get to the polling station, but was determined not to be fobbed off with a postal vote, so insisted that a voting machine be brought to her room, then got all the other people in the hospice who wanted to vote to come to her room, which became a makeshift polling station. I hope it is true. Everyone around us was comparing how far they'd travelled to come to the ceremony and they'd come from all over the States, so I timed my run just right and popped in, 'England?' at just the right time to attract the maximum 'oohs' and 'aahs', only to reveal it was something of a cheat, as I live here.
The security line was moving super-slow and they were only letting three people through to the
metal detector area at a time. I got the most crushed I'd gotten all day, but actually by then it was really nice, because it kind of let me lean on the person squished up behind me and give my back a break. The nice thing was I hadn't been cold all day! I was toasty warm, despite it being crazy-cold, so looking like the Michelin man was a small price to pay for an unusually comfortable time outside in the freeze. And I managed to not need the loo at all either, which was another small but significant victory.
It got to the point that, although I was tantalisingly close to the front of the queue, I wasn't sure
if I'd actually get in and we heard a cheer from the parade route at one point that made me think that we'd missed the Obamas, because it was about 2pm and I think that's when the parade was due to start. However, I finally got through security and it was so weird - the security tables were strewn with oranges and apples and loads of fruit. No knives or guns or bottles of water or whatever - just fruit! Turns out they were confiscating any throwable food. But a lady behind me got in with her bottle of Jim Beam in tact!
It was amazing, considering the horror stories I'd heard before going through security - there was hardly anyone on the parade route at all. Bleachers were half empty and lines of people were a maximum of three people deep. It was really easy to move around, so I made it to the office building with no problem and got upstairs in plenty of time for the parade to begin (I have no idea what the cheers had been for), only to discover that the parade had been delayed because Teddy Kennedy had gone into seizures during the post-inauguration lunch and Robert Byrd (the oldest senator, I think) collapsed.
Neighbour Dan's office is up on the 7th floor and there were only about 4 people in each office which had gigantic windows looking all the way down to the Capitol. It's right between the FBI and a plaza where lots of people were. And crucially, it was warm and there were chairs and loads of food and loos. yeay!
Dan told me terrible stories about people who'd been queuing to get onto the parade route since 4-5am, but either couldn't get on at all (his boyfriend Giles had to turn back and go home to watch the whole thing on TV) or only just managed to get in at about 1pm. Apparently the generator for the metal detectors went down, so they were patting people down by hand and it just took forever. I can't believe how lucky I was! The whole day (but for L'Enfant Plaza-gate) was so mellow for me and nothing ever felt like an effort or a chore - I think the longest I had to wait was the 45 or so mins to get onto Pennsylvania Ave.
As the parade began, Dan grabbed me and whisked me into a little office just the two of us and I
had a whole window to myself to watch the parade from! And it turned out to be George Allen's office! So very random. There was a stuffed duck on the wall. It wasn't long before the extraordinary phalanx of outriders on motorcycles (with sidecars!) and black vans and cars started slowly creeping towards us down Pennsylvania Ave, with the Obama's ensconced in 'the beast' as the secret service calls the new Presidential car - it's basically a tank on wheels, so heavy is its security. It was all very exciting, and only got more exciting when the car stopped and Barack and Michelle got out right beneath us!!!
Dan said it was because the plaza next to us is where most people are, so they got out and wandered along and for about 5-10 minutes, I could see them really clearly with my own eyes! As could the many snipers lining the roofs above the parade route... It was so, so exciting and thrilling. I saw Obama! What was even cooler is that they didn't get out of the car again until they reached the White House!
Then Biden came along with Jill and his family (including dreamy Beau, his amazing son) and
did the same thing - got out and waved at us all. I found myself tearing up a bit, thinking about his dead wife and daughter and am so happy for him and for us that he's VP - I really think he's great.
I thought I'd leave after Obama and Biden had gone past, but was feeling so elated, I just stuck around and watched most of the rest of the parade in a room with more people. Me and a really cute little 7-year old girl from Atlanta called Destyni [sic] sat with our noses up against the window, watching the twirling batons, the plodding horses and the regimented marching bands walk past. It was sad though, because the audience areas on the parade route basically emptied as soon as Biden had passed, so all these people who'd been waiting in the cold so long were performing to almost no-one (until they reached the White House). One little band dude had to be extracted, because he was shaking so much and had to be carried away, poor chap.


Eventually, I got a bit bored of the parade so, scoffing as much food as I could, using the bathroom as many times as I could, I headed back onto the street and wandered home, having
no sense of time and not really being bothered that I was at 7th and D and needed to get back to 19th and U. I plugged my iPod in and really enjoyed being by myself, soaking up the atmosphere of people wandering around the streets, vendors selling the last of their wares and the ground being spattered with ephemera from the day's events. It was amazing to see how they'd blocked off lots of the streets - by parking two buses right across the opening to the streets - and to see how rammed the queues to get down into the metro still were.
a makeshift store
...but even proper shops are 'in the tank' for Obama...
I can't believe that I still wasn't cold (thanks, Neighbour Dan), exhausted or stressed out and was really pleased that I was in a city I know really well, as it made it really nice to just calmly make my way home. Our street was all blocked off because one of the big balls was happening at the Hilton across the road, and it was fun to hear the helicopters fly overhead just as Obama arrived at the ball and we watched on MTV. Maxy was out on U St, manfully trawling the bars for a 'colour piece' for the website (here) - it's a tough job! But eventually we were reunited and got to reflect on what we'd seen that day and the fact that... Obama is President!! Amazing.
I had planned to hit the streets and celebrate all night long, but the exhaustion of the day hit me as I shed my many layers and hit the sofa, so we stayed in (with Alison and Emily) and watched the balls on TV. It was so cool, at the ball across the road that was on MTV, cos after Obama made this great speech about the young generation being responsible for having changed the opinions of parents across the country and inspired people older than them with their dedication and service, he said, "hit it, band" as they struck up what must've been the nth rendition of Etta James' 'At Last' that poor Barack and Michelle had heard that night. I also saw footage from the Neighbourhood Ball, of Barack and Michelle boogying down in the crowd while Stevie Wonder played their favourite song. What a cool President. I'm only sad that he doesn't get a lie-in tomorrow - he must be knackered!































