A wonderful time at the inauguration

From Shirleyann Costigan:

Yes, my friends,
I was there. Have you seen the newspaper shots of the massive crowds at the Inauguration? Look again. Focus on the area between the Washington Monument and the WWII Memorial. If you look really, really, REALLY closely, you still can't see me. Nor can you see my dear friend and hostess Jackie M. looking like a hip Eskimo in the shades and fur hood, nor the darling pixie with pink hair and her green-haired mom, nor the kind woman who gave me two hand-warmers to stuff in my shoes so my frozen toes wouldn't break off, nor the sleeping toddler in his daddy's arms, nor the protesters disclaiming Obama for Jesus Christ, nor the lady blocking my view of the Jumbotron.

You can't see any of it, but I was really there, got the T-shirt and a head cold, and had a most wonderful time - even though I didn't see very much either. But I'm sure if I had, Obama would have sent you all his very best - but now he's too busy.

A message from the inauguration

From Dylan Svihus, 17, Carmel High School:

January 21, 2009

Our departure time was an hour later than normal, which was nice considering how I hadn’t really gotten used to the East Coast Time zone. Most nights I was lucky if I fell asleep by eleven. On our way to DC we got caught in rush hour traffic for the first time on our trip. We were going to visit the Lincoln Memorial, go the Newseum, and depart from Dulles Airport.

The Lincoln memorial was crowded, however, this only added to the epic scope of the memorial. The oversized Lincoln gazed intently across the mall at the Washington Memorial in the nation’s longest running staring match. At the front of the memorial, hoards of people were taking the pictures of the national mall. That’s really original; you definitely couldn’t find a postcard with that view. I had to resist the urge to exploit the phallic nature of the Washington Monument in a sexually explicit picture that would offend most patriots, and have revolutionary war veterans rolling in their graves.

It was at this point that we said goodbye to our tour guide. Her oratory skills were on par with George Bush, and like Bush, her departure was much more celebrated than her arrival.

Our next stop was at the youngest museum in DC: The Newseum. Unfortunately we only had two hours to see the six story tribute to the media. Highlights included a section about the FBI and the press, which had exhibits about Patty Hearst, The Unabomber with his actual cabin in the exhibit, and the DC Sniper. The drawbacks included expensive food, and a 4D movie that burned over twenty minutes of our precious time. There was so much information; I could have easily spent an entire day viewing the compelling exhibits. It was by far the best museum we visited on the trip.

After our painfully short stint in the Newseum, We went back on the bus to head to Dulles airport. Unfortunately I still had not bought the Obama paraphernalia that I had promised my family. I looked in every gift shop in the museums and monuments, but I was too cheap to buy a T-shirt for thirty bucks that was only five on inauguration day. Fortunately, our driver, Bob, allowed us to stop at a group of street vendors to buy some decently priced merch. I bought three Obama T-shirts, one Obama poster, two Obama pins, and one McCain pin that was 75% off—just for giggles; the grand total was thirty five dollars.

Our flight took us from Dulles to Midway airport in Chicago where we had a two hour layover. The next leg took us to Las Vegas, and then we proceeded to San Jose airport. In retrospect, seeing the inauguration was a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness history in the making, but I would have liked to see more of DC: the Smithsonian museums, the Library of Congress, and the Supreme Court were all places that we did not get to visit. I will definitely make it a personal goal as a citizen of the United States to revisit DC for a longer period of time.

From the onset of this trip, I was a little skeptical about the execution of Obama’s skillfully worded master plan, but now I feel that if nothing else, he has inspired a new generation of future politicians who will strive to carry on his message. Many believe that Obama’s message is about hope, but beneath the overtly spoken words that have echoed throughout America for months now, there is a much more applicable message: that of a subjective reality. On July 27, 2004 Obama gave a speech where he demanded that we replace the politics of cynicism with the politics of hope. Despite the fact that it is easy to be cynical, Obama demanded that we reject the reality of cynicism and apathy and replace it with a reality of hope and empathy. Obama’s election has proved that if enough people can join arms, they can change what is real in Washington DC, in America, and in the world. Obviously, there will still be fights in the subways, and reality can spoil just as quickly as it has flowered, but if we maintain the confidence that reality can be changed, then nothing will stop us.

Witnessing the inauguration on a 'glorified television'

From Dylan Svihus, 17, Carmel High School:

January 20, 2009

We set our alarms for four am in order to catch our bus at five. The alarm rang at four, and I rolled over to wake up my bunk mate, Jake. I shook him a few times, and I assumed he was awake, then I went back to sleep. Our teacher knocked on the door ten minutes before five, and we scrambled to get our clothes together. We walked to the elevator, and being the observant type, I realized that I was not wearing any shoes. I threw my clothes on the floor of the elevator, and dashed back into the room. I got my shoes on and crammed into the elevator. It was only after we drove out of Gaithersburg that I realized I forgot my scarf and gloves. I slept for most of the bus ride to D.C.

The bus parked at the lot in front of the Nationals’ stadium. We walked about two miles to the silver ticket gate. We stayed in line at the gate for about five hours pushing and shoving our way to the ticketed area. There was a complete lack of communication between the policemen and the attendees. Throughout the wait, cheers of “What’s going on?” and “Let us in” reverberated throughout the line, but I had a feeling that some of the policemen knew about as much information as we did.

We mostly entertained ourselves, but at the end of the wait things seemed bleak. The wind really began to rip through the crowd, and I thought that we would never be able to make it into the ticketed area. Barack Obama’s dream was dying in the salty streets of the national mall. There was a very disillusioned vibe throughout the crowd, but in this darkest hour change was made. The barricades were forced open, and we rushed forward into the ticketing area. Unfortunately, our original group of fourteen was separated into three subgroups; I was with my bunkmate and lifelong friend: Jake Odello; as well as Vanessa Chapman and Kelly Starnes. We went through a surprisingly brief security checkpoint which consisted of a ten second frisk.

As soon as we got into the viewing area we positioned ourselves as close as possible to the Jumbo-Tron. We traveled thousands of miles to view the inauguration through a glorified television. Every time there was a shot of George Bush or anybody associated with his administration, the crowd erupted with booing and hissing. Just as we arrived at our spot in the ticket area, Joe Biden took his oath of office. His voice reverberated throughout the mall, so you actually heard the oath about five times. After that, we heard a Yo-Yo Ma composition, which was less than satisfactory; the tone of the piece was on a completely different planet than the rest of the attendees.

Finally, the moment we had all waited for: Obama. The crowd started to chant “Obama, Obama, Obama.” He took his oath and the crowd chanted, “Yes we can, Yes we can.” Obama proceeded to deliver his inaugural address in front of four million people. After eight years of bumbling George Bush, it was so refreshing to be able to use the words president and eloquence in the same sentence. The words of wisdom cascaded down the sniper lined canyon of US history, engulfing all of us in his mesmerizing Methodist meter of hope and change. For about thirty seconds after the address, all four million of us were riding this crest of hope, but the wave crashed and the sirens began to wail.

We began to exit the ticketed inauguration area, and we walked out to Jefferson Avenue. During the inaugural address our friends from the secret service re-barricaded the road, so nobody could get out. Tensions flared and the once altruistic, hopeful, law abiding citizens were transformed into masters of mayhem. They tore down the temporary chain link fence surrounding the Native American History Museum. People soon began pouring into the courtyard in front of the Native American History Museum. We followed, using the path of least resistance that eventually led us to another chain link fence in front of the parade route. People began to climb the fence, and were immediately swarmed by Special Forces Agents.

One guy almost made it over the fence, but then he got tackled by Special Forces. The agent did not stop there, however; he took out his night stick, and what was once an ardent Obama supporter became an unconscious object lying in its own blood. After seeing that raw display of power, our group got the hell out of there. We eventually made our way to the public health center, and met up with the rest of our group.

As we left DC the lines around the Metro station wrapped around the block, it was clear that some people might not be able to go home that night. The trash of millions of people clogged the streets: newspapers, plastic bags, and the typical city sludge coagulated together in urban tumbleweeds of human waste.

Snipers and snow

From Dylan Svihus, 17, Carmel High School:

January 19, 2009

We ate the same breakfast as yesterday. We got on our bus at seven thirty. Our agenda for the day: Whitehouse, War Memorials, and tickets. As we stepped off the bus, it began to snow, just like the balding weatherman had promised us last night. As we walked to the Whitehouse, the snowflakes slowly congregated on our shoulders like dandruff. We got as close to the Whitehouse as possible, all the while trying to ignore the infantile fun facts being forced upon us by our wonderful tour guide. The coolest thing about the Whitehouse was seeing the sniper at the top of the building watching our every move.

We got back on the coach, and headed towards the various memorials around the mall. Unfortunately, we could not go inside the Lincoln memorial, because the set from yesterday’s concert was being torn down. Next we went to the Vietnam War memorial. The memorial looked like a scar, a painful reminder of the mistake we made. It seemed inhuman to condense the lives of the thousands of people into an impersonal name. People walk by the names, but each one has a story. We continued to the Korean War memorial and the WWII memorial.

Two people from our group went to Sam Farr’s office to pick up the tickets to the inauguration. The rest of us went to Union Station to get lunch. Not surprisingly, Union Station was packed. We wandered through the congested food court for two hours, and after two hours of wandering all I had to show for it was a doughnut the size of my head. We met the Sam Farr contingency at the back of the capitol building. Thanks to Sam Farr, we got silver passes at the very end of the ticketed area.

When we got back to Gaithersburg there was about an inch of snow on the ground. We immediately bought some sleds at Target, and started to slide down the little hills. About a half an hour into our session, a Gaithersburg police officer told us that we had violated the Gaithersburg curfew laws. It was eight o’clock. Even in Carmel, where ice cream was only recently legalized, the curfew is ten o’clock.

In Washington D.C.: A day of challenges and joy

The Herald's Julia Reynolds at the inauguration
Editor's note — Cell phone reception in Washington D.C. has been spotty all day. Text messages from Reynolds capturing the buzz of the day were lost somewhere in the ozone. This is from a phone conversation Reynolds and I had after she had successfully escaped the Capitol.
Reynolds: The day started at 5:30 a.m., I was on the train by 6:30 a.m., at our gate by 7:30 a.m. But then everything ground to a half and I almost didn't get in. Only reason we seemed to get in was because people ahead of us in line gave up in disgust. By 11 a.m. the crowd trampled over the fences and we got in. Everyone sort of ran in to the ticketed area. I got to hear Aretha which was my big thing. We couldn't follow the Obama speech because the sound seemed to cut in and out. It is just real nice to sit down, here at 3 p.m.
The crowd was packed together like sardines, but everyone seemed polite. You were smushed in with a big crowd , but it was a nice crowd to be with. I felt the cold in my fingers and feet.
Unfortunately, the physical things to deal with were distracting. In between it all was for a feeling of elation and that seemed to carry everyone through peacefully.
I've never seen anything like this before. Next time I'll watch it at home with my feet up. But this time I couldn't miss it, it was history. I've never seen so many people so excited about the same thing at one time. These were happy people.