Monthly Archives: January 2009

On Wednesday, January 21, our new President’s first day in office, an Open House was held at the White House. I had been volunteering at the Presidential Inaugural Committee in the days leading up to the swearing-in, and I received a phone call from one of the PIC staffers inviting me to the Open House. They took all of my information including name, date of birth, social security number etc. for myself and my guest, who was my eldest daughter. We were both disappointed at not having been able to get tickets for any of the inaugural events, and this seemed to be a good substitute.

The Open House was to be held at 2pm, so we showed up at the gate to find already assembled an orderly line of about 60-80 people. I spoke to the women at the front of the line who told me that they had been there since 10am. It was about 28 degrees outside, and I felt sorry for them because they were clearly cold and exhausted. There were reporters and news cameras all around as well as some tourists who would approach us and ask what was going on. We took our place in line and one of the reporters came over and started asking me some questions quite tentatively at first. As I answered her questions she paused and said, “No one else in this line would answer any of my questions.” I thought that was strange also. She took a few notes and her photographer took a bunch of pictures of us. Then a Secret Service agent came out and told us that we would be going inside soon and that we were free to take still photos, but if we were caught videotaping we would be escorted from the building. I called my father and said, “Daddy, ask me where I am right now? He said, “At the airport waiting for me to pick you up? I said, “No, silly, I am standing in the security line waiting to get into the White House! He was thrilled for us and said to be sure to send him some pictures.”

We went through security just like in any other federal building in town, and then we simply walked into the White House. I stopped in the front reception area and snapped this picture that was just put up that morning:

We were given a lovely tour and everyone was very nice. The whole group of us took pictures, and we were all excited with the anticipation that maybe the First Lady would come down and greet us. Towards the end of the tour wee all tried to linger in the foyer, hoping to catch a glimpse of the President or the First Lady and the girls, but the agents moved us along. We could see that there was another group coming in behind us. We were given special cookies shaped like the White House and took pictures with the chefs and then we departed from the front door.

Brianna and I took pictures on the grand driveway, but it was windy and bitter cold, so we didn’t linger there long. The New York Post photographer took some shots of us as we were leaving and the people around us were looking at us and asking each other who we were. There was a bit of meager sun shining, but the sky was gray and the frigid air made us scurry along to find a coffee shop where we relived our small adventure over a cup of cocoa with whipped cream.

Later that evening on the news we saw that President Obama did come out of his office and greet the visitors in the group that came in behind us. I got an email from our New York Post reporter saying that she didn’t end up using our quotes and pictures because Obama came down just a few moments after we left, and the story ended up being about that. We were a bit bummed, but still thrilled that we were given the opportunity to visit the White House on the first day of this new Presidency. I’m certain that I’ll meet my new Washington, D.C. neighbors another time.

I am proud to say that I braved the cold with about a million and a half of my fellow Americans and witnessed the peaceful transition of power in the United Stated as Barack Obama was inaugurated as our 44th president.

I have been out in the cold since 5:45 am, and my fingers are slightly frostbitten making it a bit painful to type these words. I am thoroughly exhausted, and despite the fact that I have been indoors since about 4:30 this afternoon, I can’t seem to get warm. To top it off, when I got back to my car this evening, I found a flat in the right, rear tire. Joy.

I will post my account of my day tomorrow. Until then, I am happy and proud to fall asleep under the watch of the first African American president in history. God is good.

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I wrote this post last night after having stumbled into the house exhausted and with a bit of frostbite on my fingers and toes. I was then too sleepy to post it on my blog, so I crawled into my bed piled on the blankets and drifted off to sleep while watching coverage of the inaugural balls on TV while one of my little ones rubbed my feet. I ended up falling asleep before I could post it, so here it is.

I awakened this morning finally having shaken that freezing cold to the core feeling, but my body still does not feel quite right. My fingers still feel tingly and numb at the same time making it quite challenging to type accurately. I also feel a residual aching in my bones that I am sure will subside eventually.

But most of all, I awakened this morning feeling fantastic about our brand new president. I awakened filled with a realistic hope in his energy and ideas and refreshing brand of leadership. I also awakened with pride–a pride in my country that our new president helped to engender within me. I know that he can’t fix our broken economy on his own nor do I expect him to do so. But I trust that having Barack Obama at the helm will help us to navigate these treacherous waters and come out the other side better people than when we began.

The following is my first-person account of my day as one of the huddled masses on the National Mall watching the 2009 inauguration of Brarck H. Obama as he was sworn in as the 44th president of the United States.

Leaving Home Pre-Dawn
I left the house at 5:30 in the morning on inauguration day filled with excitement for what the day would hold. I dressed warmly in three layers of clothing, two pairs of socks and insulated leather gloves with thick woolen mittens over top of those. I affixed my Obama button to my wool cap and set out on my way wearing my insulated snow boots to keep my feet warm.

The air was cold so I moved quickly to meet my friend Claire at McPherson Square. As I was leaving, she called me to let me know that she had made it on to one of the Metro trains and that she would meet me at the station soon.

I made it to McPherson Square Metro station quickly, but I did not see her. The station was heated, so I hung around inside waiting to see her appear in the throngs of people coming up out of the subway that morning. I sent a message to twitter filled with my excitement and enthusiasm, and then I sent a text to my daughter to find out where she planned to go to watch. I impatiently paced around eager to get going, but Claire was terribly late. Just as I began debating whether I should press on ahead without her or not, she appeared. She was blushingly apologetic about having been late and making me wait, but the train that she had gotten on initially broke down at the second stop, so all of the passengers on that jam-packed train had to be off-loaded on to the station platform. She then had to try to squeeze on to the next train that arrived.

We walked at a brisk pace down I street to 19th and turned on to Constitution where we got on the mall. It was still pre-dawn and the people we saw ahead appeared as shadowy figures moving around in the dark. It was cold but there was a palpable sense of electrical excitement in the air. Everyone was feeling festive while we all had a common goal–to find the best spot possible to view history in the making.

Finding a Place to Stand

The first jumbo-tron that we saw was north of the monument, and silly me, I suggested that we keep going and see if we couldn’t find a spot at a jumbo-tron within view of the Capitol. I would come to regret this hair-brained idea later. We kept on walking and finally found a spot near the fourth jumbo-tron from the Capitol–which is about at the halfway point on the mall across from the Smithsonian Castle.

We settled in and then Claire made the mistake of telling me that it was 7:15am. Of course that meant that we’d be standing in that spot for the next three hours waiting for things to get started. Slowly, the sun came up and shone quite brightly for awhile, and I had hopes that the temperature would rise above 32 degrees. We chatted up our neighbors a bit and found that the people in front of us who had blankets spread out and had staked out quite a spot were from Illinois. There were people behind us from London, and others from other places in the U.S. all just thrilled to be here in Washington D.C. on such a momentous day. Claire and I chatted and tried to keep moving to keep warm and to relieve the fatigue I was beginning to feel in my feet from standing so long. Then they started to run the ‘We Are One’ concert that was held at the Lincoln Memorial on Sunday on the jumbo-tron. We all sang and danced along with the performers on screen. Just as the concert was wrapping up, the live feed from the Capitol began.

Our Witness to History
We all watched and cheered as the procession of dignitaries began and we saw assembled there on the Capitol the entire United States Government in one place, along with celebrities and othe famous folks. We commented on all of the living former presidents as they and their spouses were introduced. Because we were watching the live feed with no media commentary, we were all guessing who some of the people were whose entrance was not being announced by the Seargent At Arms. But when the One–President-elect Barack H. Obama appeared, there began the famous chant from the campaign rallies: “Obama, Obama, Obama!” The crowd chanted his name and you could feel the sweel of pride among us as we saw our hero taking his place on the world stage. The feeling that each and every one of us had helped to put him there made it that much more special.

We watched the inaugural ceremony and cheered as he made his speech. The crowd erupted with cheers when he took his oath of office, and then I felt that it had all been worth it–to get out of my warm bed and stand here in this cold to witness this important moment in person rather than on TV.

Now when the video of this inaugural is played throughout my lifetime I can tell my children and my grandchildren that I was there. I stood there and held space for my grandparents and all of my ancestors who worked, fought, struggled and died so that I could experience this moment. I held the space for my three daughters who are going on before me to carve out lives of their own with there feet on my shoulders and the shoulders of our forebears. But I also stood there for me because Obama’s rise proves that the promise of the American dream is real. This man who was raised by a single mother, had an absent father and none of the priviledges of wealth could rise by sheer hard work, determination and strength of character to the highest office in the land. This to me is an inspiraiton and give me new hope and a re-newed sense of purpose in my life.

Making our Way Back Home
As Elizabeth Alexander, the inaugural poet began to read her poem, Claire and I decided to sneak out whilst the crowd was still watching the jumbo-trons with rapt attention. Unfortunately, we were not the only ones with this idea, and as we tried to squeeze our way through the tightly packed sea of humanity others followed suit. Soon the whol crowd turned from having been standing still in orderly fashion, to a teeming flood of people urgent to get out that area that we suddenly found ourselves boxed into. This tide of human beings flowed down towards 12th Street, but that exit was blocked. We then streamed towards 14th Street and also found that blocked off. We ended up standing there for over 30 minutes until the police finally released the barricades and let us go. We later found out that they were concerned that we would try to go to the parade route, but most folks were trying to get to their buses or to the Metro Stations. While we stood there waiting, we saw several people being treated for hypothermia. By that time we had been out in the sub-freezing temperatures for seven hours. I had not been drinking anything because I did not want to have to use one of the thousands of port-a-potties lined up along the mall. I was hungry and tired and by then both my feet and hands were numb. I just wanted to find someplace warm to sit down and rest my feet and warm my hands.

Claire and I stopped at the International Food Court in the financial district. Our first objective was to use the bathroom, but we had to stand in line for about 15 minutes in order to do so. Then we were somehow able to snag a table in that crowded food court where hundreds of people had descended to get warm, find some food to eat and rest from the morning’s activities. That excited buzz among us was now tempered with sheer exhaustion. I saw some people had put their bags on the table and rested their head on their bags and were fast asleep. We ate our food and then we parted ways. Claire went off to the Metro station and I headed home. As I emerged from the warmth of the food court back out into the cold and wind, I knew that I suffered from exposure because I could feel that the cold had settled into my bones. My fingers and feet were throbbing in pain and my head felt a bit light. despite it all I was thrilled to have been there, and I would do it all over again.

OK, I understand that talking about the weather is mundane, but OMG it’s been so freaking cold here lately that I barely want to get out of bed let alone leave the house! The entire eastern seaboard and parts of the mid-west have been under the influence of an Alberta Clipper, which has brought frigid temperatures to us, and oddly enough it was warmer in Anchorage Alaska yesterday than it was here in Washington, D.C. I’ve got nothing against Alberta, but pleeease keep your cold weather to yourself!

Now with just four days to go ’til the inaugural, D.C. residents are bracing themselves for the onslaught of visitors to our city. We’re used to the summer tourist crowds at the monuments, but there are forecast to be will be more people attending this inaugural than any other one in history. I do not like crowds because I get a bit claustrophobic. Just being on a crowded Metro train at rush hour sends my blood pressure soaring and an increasing sense of panic begins to build inside of me. So, my first instinct is to stay at home where it’s warm and safe and watch from the comfort of my couch. However, because this is such an historic moment, and because for goodness sakes it’s going on a few blocks from here, I’m going to get up off of my rusty-dusty and head down to the mall and wade into the crowd and witness history in person. Pray for me, ya’ll because I really don’t want to get down there and get stuck in a mob of people and have an anxiety attack. I’m visualizing an uneventful experience when all goes well and I don’t freeze my hind parts off or get mixed up in a crazed mob.

I am sending my girls to stay with their father because good heavens it will be difficult enough to keep track of myself let alone keep up with two curious children with bottomless pits for stomach and bladders the size of ping-pong balls. I will carry small snacks in my pockets and I hope to be able to find some hand and foot warmers this weekend to put into my mittens and my boots. I will dress in layers as the forecast is for the low 30’s. I think it will be lots of fun and although I don’t have a ticket to the swearing-in–or any other event for that matter, I am going to join that crowd of my fellow Americans on the National Mall and celebrate the peaceful transfer of power of the highest office in our country, and the historic moment of inaugurating the first Black president in the history of the United States.

If I can get close enough to anything to take pictures, I will do so and post them here. I told my dad that I’d send him a video clip live from the mall. I will post that here as well. So, for those of you who are also attending I’ll see you there. Please save me a spot near one of those jumbo-trons so that I’ll be able to see Mr. Obama make history.

I had signed up weeks ago as a volunteer for the Presidential Inaugural events, and I finally got a call last week scheduling me to start this week. Both yesterday and today I showed up at the PIC and worked a few hours in the call center. It was really lots of fun because the people who work and volunteer there are very cool. It’s a bit of a chaotic environment, but full of really good, vibrant energy that comes from people working together towards a common goal. It reminded me of working on the campaign. Anyway, They are doing a great job or organizing the thousands of volunteers that will be needed to pull off the most-attended inaugural in history.

So, for the most up-dated information about the inaugural balls and festivities in D.C. take a look at: www.pic2009.org

It also felt good to get out of the house and to break up my regular routine a bit. It felt like I was becoming a bit of a reclusive hermit because I have been spending most of my days at home alone in front of the computer. As much as I have enjoyed the flexibility of working from home, I have not enjoyed the isolation. When the weather was warmer, I used to take my laptop to the cafe and sit out and work in the sun. Now that winter is here, I’ve just not been leaving the house much. So, I intend to change that in the weeks ahead. I will get out and take my laptop to the library because I can get free wi-fi.

The excitement about the upcoming inaugural festivities is really growing in town. I’m looking forward to being able to witness history, but not looking forward to the crazy crowds and all of the other disruptions that will happen during those few days. It will be an adventure, and I’ll share it with you as we go.

It’s the second day of the new year and here I am again reflecting on the past. Today’s musing is courtesy of having been found on Facebook by an old pen pal. We met online in a pen-pal forum in 2002, and we started exchanging long, chatty letters about our lives. In those days I was newly married, expecting my third baby girl and trying my hand at being a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom). When baby girl was about nine month old, and I had become I was crazed with boredom from staying home, I started working again. I no longer had as much leisure time, so my letters became fewer and farther between until I just could not find a quiet moment to sit and write any more and Liz and I lost touch. Years passed and my life was being completely transformed. But when I look back on those days and all of the time that I invested in learning how to be a good wife, when I had been a single mom for the previous twelve years I have to laugh to keep from crying. I invested so much energy and devotion in being a ‘good wife.’ I had to learn the hard way how devastating it is to discover that you have been leaning your ladder against the wrong wall.

Getting out of that marriage and resurrecting my life has been a huge accomplishment for me. Forgiving myself for having married the wrong person and for having wasted so much of myself on someone who did not deserve me will take some time. But God is good and His mercy endures forever. There is always grace, and the lessons learned were hard won and they continue to inform my life as I move forward.

So, on the last day of the year as I was tying up the loose ends I sat down and penned a letter to my old pen pal. I felt as though I was writing with the shadow of my old self peering over my shoulder. That young woman was amazed at how much I would experience and grow from in the following six years. I sensed as she read what I was writing that she was proud of me for having gotten out of a bad marriage, for taking care of myself and my girls, and for being brave enough to find love again. As the year wound down I wrote about the things in my life that had changed and about all that I was looking forward to in the new year. I look forward to reading Liz’s reply and hearing about what she’s been up to since we lost touch with each other.