"Witness" to Obama's Inauguration

“WITNESS” TO OBAMA’S INAUGURATION
By Larry Delano Coleman, Esq.
Sunday, May 31, 2009

My wife and I drove from Kansas City, Missouri, to Washington, D.C. to
partake in the epochal inauguration of Illinois Senator, Barack Hussein
Obama, as the first black President of the United States in January 2009.

We spent the first night in St. Louis with childhood friends. Departing early
the next morning, I glanced at, and was recognized by, my third grade “girl
friend,” Gail, now, herself, a school teacher, in a QT convenience store/gas
station coffee aisle. I had not seen her, easily, since the 1960s. My joyous
reunion with Gail and her adult daughter was compounded by my discovery
that, they, too, were meeting family members to drive to D.C. for the historic
inaugural. We were both amazed and reassured by this double coincidence.

The drive was uneventful, even restful--as my wife, Lyla, did most of the
driving--until nightfall found us on Highway 70 near its conjunction with
Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia, where it began to snow and sleet and
rain, so heavily, the lane dividers disappeared and visibility, too. We had a
choice to make: take the Pennsylvania Turnpike with its narrow lanes and
steep ascents and descents through the Allegheny Mountains; or drop down
into West Virginia and take our chances with that flatter, southern route
through the same mountains. We took the southern route, and spent the night
in southern Pennsylvania, 20 miles from West Virginia in a warm motel.

The next morning we arrived in the District of Columbia, via Silver Spring,
Maryland, on Sunday, January 19. Driving down “sweet” Georgia Avenue,
toward northwest Washington, nostalgia overwhelmed me; I was being
mysteriously summoned to “The Yard,” my alma mater, Howard University,
“The Capstone of Negro Education.” Relenting to the spirit, I rolled onto
main campus, past the security guard station, which kindly waved me in,
after looking at the mud on my car, my Missouri tags, and that “don’t you
know me” look in my confident eyes. Cars, as usual, were parked
everywhere. But as fate, and the good Lord, would have it, we found the
perfect spot.

We then headed for Cramton Auditorium to see what was up.
Unbeknown to us, the Right Reverend Jeremiah Wright, former pastor of
Chicago’s Trinity United Church of Christ, and confidante of Barack
Obama, was just about to preach, when we entered the overflowing
vestibule. This was too wonderful to imagine. Others, we later learned, had
been redirected to three different overflow facilities, so massive were the
earlier crowds. But, our timing was exquisite. We walked right in. We were
blessed as Rev. Wright, also a Howard alumnus, preached “till my dungeon
shook, and my chains fell off”.

Leaving Howard, we retrieved “Silver” Inauguration tickets, and logistical
information, from the Capitol Hill office of our Congressman, the Honorable
Emmanuel Cleaver II, Democrat from Kansas City, Missouri, who had
kindly befriended us.

Thereafter, we drove to 13th and “U” Street, N. W. , to
Ben’s Chili Bowl, in a vain attempt to procure a legendary half-smoke,
newly popularized--indeed sanctified--by an unannounced, but televised,
visit of President-Elect Barack Obama during the previous week. The line
was too long to get in, so we shopped among the outdoor vendors at a
nearby Ethiopian flea-market, where all things Obama were on sale. After
purchasing a few items, we headed to Northeast Washington to the residence
of my late mother’s first cousin, Edward Merriweather, our obliging host.

Edward and his wife, Clementine, both retired school teachers, are natives of
Canton, Mississippi, also my birth place. Their sense of family and
hospitality are overwhelming. They spoiled us. We certainly did not lack
for anything. Providentially, we resided only three blocks from the D.C.
Armory subway station, our means of transportation to and from the
inauguration at the Capitol.

The morning before the inauguration, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday,
I attended a Howard University Law School Alumni Association luncheon,
at Marriott Hotel, 14th and Pennsylvania, N.W., where I delivered the
invocation, which was keynoted by Congressman Gregory Meek of New
York, who was a year behind me at law school. The empty seat on the dais
next to me was to have been occupied by Illinois Senator Roland Burris,
another Howard Law alumnus, but he did not appear. At the luncheon, I was
pleased to see my good friends, and Howard Law graduates Kamau King,
Kwame Osei Reed, Donald Thigpen, and Robert Bell, all National Bar Association stalwarts,among others.

That evening we finally got our half-smokes from Ben’s! Once again, we battled the long lines, but there was an irrestible and lively esprit d'corps, among the prospective consumers, which mitigated the cold and the length of the wait.

Finally, the day of reckoning arrived. We had been warned to arrive early
due to record crowds. We heeded that advise, but it did not matter. The
crowd was prehensile, contiguous, viscous, alive. Getting to one’s
designated area was an act of grace, subject to fluid dynamics. The logistics
were designed to effectuate the very diverse crowd’s control, not to expedite
movement, nor to differentiate among ticket holders. No official knew
anything about anything, except “keep moving.” After hopelessly battling
the Mall crowd for 4 hours, and finally being blocked by a phalanx of
mounted police, I had a choice to make: stand where I was and see and hear
nothing Presidential , in the cold; or catch the subway back to my cousin’s
house, where food, beverages, warmth, a television and a front-row seat
awaited me. Hello, Brother Obama! And good-bye, brother! I booked.

Headed back to the subway station, I encountered my lovely wife, standing
in yet, another long serpentine queue, of course. Serendipitously, I had
somehow passed her in route to the National Mall, even though she had
caught the train, before me. When I told her I was headed back to Edward’s
home, owing to the lack of accessibility for “silver” ticket holders, she
declined my invitation to return, and ignored my admonition about lack of
access, and stuck it out. She claims that she ended up hearing, but not seeing
anything, being blocked by a tree near the wading pool. As for me, I saw
and heard; ate and drank; was warm and well-seated, enjoying instant replay.
God bless America, and to each his own!

Below are links to some photos of our beautiful First Family:
http://news.aol.com/main/politics/article/obamas-in-new-yorkcity/
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