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Jan 29, 2009 The Day History Was Made: Personal Accounts of the 2009 Presidential Inauguration

Introduction by Alessandra Harris

As a people accustomed to disappointment, racism, brutality and separation, the Inauguration of President Barack Hussein Obama was a victory for the African American community. It was a victory of hope over despair, love over hate, and certainty over doubt.

In April 2008, I wrote the article, “2008 Democratic Primary: Something to Talk About,” which discussed the Bay Area community’s response to Barack Obama’s running for Democratic Nominee. The article featured Robert Baker and Maria Fuentes, who are known for their activism.

The pair were given two tickets to the Inauguration—an event they were eager to document for CityFlight.com.  However, like 4,000 other ticket holders, they were not admitted into the ceremony.

We also have a touching account from a San Jose resident Anthony Hayter, who attended the ceremony on the National Mall.

Together these stories are a metaphor of the four years to come, which may be imperfect and trying at times, but with persistence and with individuals coming together to form community, they can be as great as we imagine.

Personal Account of Maria Fuentes and Robert Baker

Our road to the White House was an unexpected one. As ardent Obama supporters from the beginning, we had organized fundraisers, thrown parties and walked the precincts. We were content that our hard work was not in vain when Obama was elected to the Presidency.

The added bonus came when our request for Inauguration Tickets was met, and Zoe Lofgren gave us two tickets in an assigned area 150 yards from the President.

We awoke at 4:30 a.m. and boarded The Mark Train where we were staying in Baltimore an hour later. Eager and excited to witness history in the making, we arrived in the nation’s Capitol at 8 a.m., and joined the sea of patient purple ticket holders that filled the street around us. Though we barely moved for four hours, we never expected to be locked out of the inauguration ceremony.

Minutes before noon, we had progressed one block to reach the 12-foot fence that separated us from the ceremony. The inevitable loss was facing us. Then we heard cheers on the other side.

We suddenly heard gunshots, the traditional 21-gun salute, and our crowd of unredeemed ticket holders cheered in unison…. It’s official, the historic journey was fulfilled!

People near by began gathering around hand-held devices, listening to the barely audible whispers of Barack’s powerful inauguration speech through web-streamed audio. With tears in our eyes, we listened to the President.

Though disappointed on one hand, we felt united as he spoke to the world, laying out our collective future, making hope real.

And as we left Washington, our hearts were filled with excitement.

Our story is our grain in the sand of the communal world experience when Barack said those words, “I will faithfully execute the office of the President of the United States.”

Personal Account of Anthony Hayter

It is almost 12:00 noon, and as President Elect Barack Obama stands to prepare to take the oath of office, I stand on the lawn of the National Mall with the other 1.8 million Americans who have braved the cold to see this historic day. Not unlike Obama’s journey to become the President Elect, my journey to get [to D.C.] was filled with struggles.

It started at 4:15 a.m., the time I left to go to the Metro, D.C.’s train system.  Once on the train, the excitement was palpable on the faces of the supporters adorned with scattered OBAMA buttons and hats.

Bundled in at least three layers of clothing, I mentally prepare myself for the wait ahead,  but know that I will be waiting for a long time out there in the cold.

Once the train trip ends, I find myself near the National Mall joining the throng of people walking in the dark. I see the Washington Monument on my right, but don’t know my bearings until I check my map and my GPS on my phone.

People stop at various streets, as they are lost or just following the person in front of them, and I press on, with my desire to finally see the grassy knoll that tells me I’m there.  My determination finally pays off as I reach the edge of the field around 12th Street after walking 3 or 4 blocks.

My excitement increases as I walk and see distant steps of the Capitol Building.  I weave through people as some stop to make this there final destination. I finally stop just before 4th Street, the closest you can come to without having a ticket to this historic event.

As I press through the crowd to get to the middle, I am met with resistance. I decide to go back out and come back in at another angle. I am successful and finally arrive at a site where the Capitol steps are in front of me and a JumboTron is above to my left in perfect view. I am now finally able to relax and turn my focus on the bitter cold that has now sunk in.

But the elements are no match for the immense flow of goodwill that abounds. I meet the people around me. College friends around my age have come together for this event. A cold West Indian gets assistance from a German mother and daughter that share their blanket and body heat with him.

It is now close to 7:00 a.m., and the sun is finally cresting over the horizon. It has warmed up to around 30 degrees, but is far from the 75 degrees that I left in the Bay [Area].

As I try various techniques of staying warm, I continue to chat with the people around me. We joke and enjoy reflecting on the singular thread that brought us all here: President-elect Barack Obama.

Around 9:00 a.m., our JumboTron lights up and shows the “We are One” concert that was held on Sunday at the Lincoln Memorial, just on the opposite end of the mall.

By 10:30, the screen shifts to an orchestra that is playing at the Capitol steps commencing the program, which is met with a huge cheer.  Slowly each major attendee arrives and enters down the Capitol steps.

First the members of Congress, then the past Presidents and Vice Presidents.  Finally Barack and his family arrive. Each time Barack’s face is seen on the screen a thunderous roar comes over the crowd.

Occasionally, President Bush’s face appears on the screen and the crowd is mostly silent, with a few boos coming from the crowd.

As Senator Biden becomes Vice President Biden, the crowd cheers. And now, as President Elect Barack Obama completes the oath of office, the crowd erupts in the loudest celebration that I’ve ever been a part of.

My eyes begin to tear as I am swept up in the moment of cheers and jubilation that for the first time, an African American is our President. No, not an actor on TV or in a movie, but in reality, the leader of the free world is an African American just like me.  The cheering lasts for at least a minute, but feels like an eternity, with high fives and hugs being shared.

Senator Diane Feinstein, as Mistress of Ceremonies, announces President Barack Obama, as he takes the podium to give his inaugural address and is met with again a thunderous ovation and chants of O-BAM-A.

During the President’s address, I am filled with pride knowing the trials and set backs he endured to get to this day. He finishes to another round of applause. Then the crowd starts to think out as the benediction is being delivered.

Out of respect, my adopted crew and me stand and listen, and then are treated to the whimsical rhythm and rhyme that the pastor delivers at the end of his prayer, with one of my friends telling me that somewhere, Reverend Wright is just kicking himself in the butt knowing that it could have been him delivering that prayer.

I now begin to make my way out as I say goodbye, take a few pictures with my new crew, and exchange info with them to stay in touch.

It takes me another 5 hours before I ever make it out of the mall, a major breakdown in planning that shut off access to five out of the six Metro stops available. But during that time I was able to seek shelter in the Smithsonian Museums scattered around the mall area.

I was able to warm up and even take a nap in the African Art Museum and then got caught up on my Black History with an exhibit of pictures from the Civil Right’s Struggle in the 60s.

As I reflect, I was extremely happy to have been there to witness this historic occasion, so proud of just about every Black person’s role model, President Barack Obama, and also so proud to be an American.

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