A Day in the Life

The election of Barack Obama for me has been forever linked to working for Kindermusik International. Last November, Election night was the day before our International Convention where hundreds of Kindermusik Educators would be joining from around the world. Working for the corporate side of Kindermusik required travel on Election Day, which meant voting by absentee ballot. Election Day had an air of excitement as we waited to see who America would pick as the 44th President. I flew from NYC to Raleigh for our event, stopped at the airport Starbucks for my free cup of coffee - which had been criticized as a promotion because of the illegality of rewarding voters - and headed to the City Center Marriott.

Once we got to the Marriott, I descended into a frenzy of activity. Not only would this be the home of our Convention, but it was also, for the next 24 hours, the home of the North Carolina Democratic Party. The day was full of presentations to our International Partners, followed by a nice dinner and a show by “Rain” - a Beatles tribute band. During the day, we were reminded by Sarah visiting from Beijing of the implications of the day’s vote. We were the absolute focus of International attention and our friends were incredibly excited to be able to personally witness the day’s events.

Walking back into the Marriott after the show was like entering a massive party. Bars were set up in every available nook. Every ballroom was packed to capacity. Hallways were full of open doors to the many parties. My friend Lisa and I decided that we’d try to get to a ballroom, so that we could get to view a large screen and await the results. Almost as soon as we shimmied into the masses where we found Scott, the announcement of California’s results came on the screen, which led to the announcement that Obama had won. The ballroom let out a unanimous cheer. I thought I would never experience something like that again... little did I know that I’d be a witness to Inauguration a few months later.

I decided I would try to go to Inauguration, but securing a ticket seemed impossible. I emailed Senators and Representatives of New York, who had instituted lottery systems to distribute tickets. After being notified that I wasn’t selected, I had resolved to experiencing the day through CNN coverage. I hadn’t even considered just going to the Mall to be with the thousands - millions - of people. 

One week before Inauguration, our CEO Michael sent an email saying that Kindermusik had been given two tickets by NC Congressman, Howard Coble. Kindermusik and Coble had met on numerous occasions as we sought an advocate for employee-ownership. Kindermusik decided to have a drawing for the tickets - Terry and I won! Terry and I started as teammates at Kindermusik five years ago, so we are both aware of how passionate each other is. Sharing this moment together would be perfect.

My family is from Washington (both parents were born in the District), so Maryland, DC, and NoVa feel like a second home to me. I have memories of running across the Lawn in front of the Washington Monument with my cousin Ross around the age of four, going to Redskins games with my Dad, walking the Mall during the display of the AIDS quilt with my friend Marti, sitting in the ZOO letters with my family: Nick, Carly, Brian, and Amanda - we couldn’t have looked more like perfect children from the 80’s. I’ve joined thousands for 4th of July celebration during college with friends, eaten freeze-dried ice cream while visiting the Air and Space museum with Tiffany, Christy, and my fifth grade class, and spent weeks there while Tony works at the Improv. Despite all of these memories, I had no idea that this would feel so profoundly different.

I received the ticket via FedEx on Friday, enjoyed a nice snowy weekend in New York, and headed to Maryland on Monday. My mom’s sister and husband live between Baltimore and Annapolis and I thought I had a perfect plan. Because their home is north of DC, I would be able to get to their home with ease, I could then get up extra early and drive to the Metro in Prince George County - the furthest on the line - and park. Driving down 95 from NYC to the DC area, I’m always reminded of the history of the United States. There is water everywhere and I always think of the historical significance of each of these bodies of water as I drive over the massive bridges. On Monday night, as I was getting close to my Aunt’s I drove over the Francis Scott Key Bridge and once again thought about growing up in Maryland -knowing that the “Star Spangled Banner” was written in my hometown of Baltimore has always filled me with pride.

My plan seemed to be working. I got to my Aunt and Uncle’s with no problems. Despite driving through snow on the majority of the drive, I only experienced fifteen minutes of traffic on the drive out of NYC, which is basically unheard of. I had a lovely dinner with my family, confirmed plans with Terry on the phone to meet the next day at 6am at the checkpoint, and headed to bed. I think I may have been anticipating the madness of the next day because despite going to bed at 10pm, I woke up at 1:30am and couldn’t go back to sleep. When I opened my eyes, I literally was seeing swirls of colors like those in Shepard Fairey’s poster of Obama. Being married to a comic, I knww that Tony would still be up, so I called him, trying to pass the time. At 3:30, I decided to go ahead and get started with the day. I left the house just after 4 and had a half hour drive to the Metro station. The drive was clear. I was thinking that my plan couldn’t have been more perfect.... until I got to the exit ramp of the Metro. Gridlock. Exit 7B on 495. I sat under the sign for over two hours.

I have Sirius Radio, so I spent my time flipping between CNN and the traffic channel. CNN was interviewing folks who were already on the Mall, talking to those that had been there since 2am and even some who hadn’t even gone to bed. While I was sitting on the exit ramp, Terry called at 6:30. She had arrived at our meeting place. I told her to enjoy the day - I knew at this point that experiencing this together wouldn’t happen. The Traffic channel was giving the play by play of the Metro garage capacities - and it wasn’t looking good for me. On NPR I heard the amazing store of Brandy and her Foster Mom who gave Brandy the gift of coming to Inauguration from California. On CNN I heard the story of a Canadian who wanted to come to the US to experience the moment in history that he hoped his country would one day have. Listening to the stories of those that have worked so hard to travel to DC, the gravity of the day started settling in. Between the pieces on the radio, I was trying to strategize what my plan would be if I could park the car. Many around me abandoned their cars and started walking to the Metro. I heard on the radio that all the bridges from Virginia were closed and that many were being encouraged to walk miles. As I inched along - perhaps a foot every fifteen minutes, I finally got to the garage and lots, which were indeed full and blocked off by cops. I pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street and parked illegally in an office lot. I thought surely these folks aren’t expected to work with traffic like this. I parked the car just as the sun was rising. A lady beside me said, “I am not feeling a tow today. I am not feeling a tow.” Her confidence helped me relax.

I thought that parking the car would be the most difficult part of the day - and I guess it was because I didn’t really have a solid Plan B. But I had no idea of the magnitudes that would be at the subway station. Thousands of people were at the New Carrollton subway and this was the first time that I felt the energy. We were all quite aware of the lines and yet no one seemed to be upset. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt that. At concerts or sporting events, there is always a sense of “COME ON - MOVE IT”. And on this day, in 21 degree weather, no one seemed to have that emotion (other than the one lady who asked me not to touch her coat...I had the feeling that the day would be extra long for her if she was bothered by my proximity at that early hour). Young and old, the crowd was full of families. Despite being told not to bring children by the officials because of the weather, kids were there. Everyone was happy - folks happy to buy the trinkets and newspapers from the vendors lining the paths - cops happy to give directions, it was pretty amazing.

In line, I met a soldier whose flight abroad was scheduled out of DC at 5pm (she was joking that she might be marked AWOL), a man from Detroit who marched in the Million Man March, and a woman who told me to stick with her “because we’re family now”. After hours in lines that zigged, zagged, and then broke down to one mass, we finally made it into the turnstiles. A mass of people headed to the ticket machines and while in the back of the line, two hippie looking kids approached me and said they had an extra Metro ticket, wanting to know if I wanted to buy it. I did - headed to get a train and didn’t get through. It was a (well-made) xeroxed ticket. So I rushed back and started yelling (because they were getting ready to sell more tickets to a family who I know didn’t plan to lose $40). I think calling them out in public forced them to give me back my money - and the ticket sellers quickly disappeared.

Once on a train, I really began to relax. I was sitting next to a man who had come in from Houston and took the entire week to soak in Inauguration. In front of me was a mom and her 8 year old daughter from Seattle. The daughter was inquisitive and asking the sweetest questions. We finally made it to L’Enfant Plaza at 11:20am. 11:20am!!! Cell phone service was unavailable so I wasn’t able to call Terry or to let anyone know that I’d made it.

I was like a fish swimming upstream trying to make it to the ticket checkpoint. Thousands of people were walking West toward the end of the Mall and I was trying to head East toward the Capitol to get to the Silver Ticket Checkpoint. The first place I tried to enter, which was marked on my ticket, had been blocked off by Secret Service. So I kept walking toward the Capitol and finally found another checkpoint. People were very flustered waiving their tickets trying to get in. It was getting to the point of desperation. I know so many of these people had worked so much harder to get to DC than I had and to get so close and think you might not make it was a bit overwhelming.

When i got onto the lawn, I walked up to the first Jumbotron that I saw, but the crowds had formed a tight arc, so I wasn’t able to see. After seeing this, I just decided to walk toward the Capitol. After talking with Terry a day later, I realize that she was sitting in front of this Jumbotron - so we were probably within 10-20 yards of each other. I was able to get relatively close to the Capitol Reflecting Pool. I couldn’t see a Jumbotron, but the area had great speakers set up. I felt that it was the way Inaugurations are supposed to be experienced by listening to the orators, soaking in the words. The surreal moments standing there were hearing the crowds chant “O-Bam-A”, watching a professional photographer with super zoom lense standing on the shoulders of a stranger to capture the moment, hearing a little girl say “Mom! Take a picture! We need to show Grandma!”, listening to the crowd roar as “Barack H. Obama” was introduced, hearing Aretha Franklin sing, hearing the flub of the oath given by John Roberts - thinking “is that right?!?”, the last and final roar as Obama was inaugurated followed immediately by his first Hail to the Chief march, and being reminded of just how important this moment was during the benediction given by Rev. Lowery.

The crowd immediately started thinning after the service and being unable to get my phone to work in one last effort to reach Terry, I decided to head home. I walked to a cop and asked for directions and he advised me not to use a Metro nearby. He said that there were thousands of people trying to get into Federal Center and Capitol South. So he told me to walk to Navy Yard - a mile and a half away. It was a nice walk - a nice time to reflect on the magnitude of the day. After speaking with Terry, I’m glad I walked, she waited 3-4 hours to enter the Metro station near the Capitol.

The trains were full but relaxed heading out of the city. I sat next to a man from Georgia. He must have been at least 70 and his hands were real working man hands. Whether he was a farmer or a mechanic, I know that he has put in a good 50 years of back-breaking work. I thought it’s amazing that he came up - alone like me - but it must have meant the world for him to be here. He spoke to me in the way that only old men do, “Excuse me sweetheart, this is where I’ll be getting off.”

It was at that moment that I went from being a part of something big - joining so many to become one - to going to my little Saturn with 250,000 miles and starting the solitary trip back to NYC. Four hours later I was on my sofa watching Barack and Michelle dance their first dance, just like millions of Americans did. I was exhausted, but so very happy to have experienced the day.

I took both of these shots one night this week en route to and from dinner with friends. The first is blurry through a Subway window and more artistically captured here. But it was the largest rainbow I'd ever seen and it was pointed out by a very kind announcer on the train who said she's never seen anything like it. The second picture is the Empire State Building which is reflecting flag colors during the Olympics. These colors were representing Tibet.

I am not what one would call artistic. I always felt it was not right that you had to profess your undying support of extracurricular activities at the young age of twelve. I chose band (and later theater). I was always amazed to see the beautiful work of those who were involved with art - like my brother.