Where Do I Begin?

Seriously – I’m still having trouble deciding where to start in representing the experience we just had.  You may have to endure a bit of rambling on my part; I apologize in advance, but I’ve not yet been able to compose a cohesive essay about this in my head.

Let me start by admitting that I’m a little sparkle-eyed.  I’m not an Obamaholic – I don’t think that the man is our savior – but the enormity of what my family and I experienced this past weekend is enough to make me a little more hopeful about the future than I was just a few days before.  Let me see if I can explain why.

Let’s start with the fact that there were an estimated two million people in attendance on Tuesday.  TWO MILLION.  I keep replaying a scene from the Last Samurai in my head – the one where Nathan Algren is talking to Katusmoto as they prepare to do battle with the Emperor’s army.  “There was once a battle at a place called Thermopylae, where three hundred brave Greeks held off a Persian army of a million men… a million, you understand this number?“

I’m sorry – I don’t understand this number.  I knew that there would be more people in one place than I have ever experienced – or will likely ever experience again – but I still can’t wrap my brain around the reality of being in the same place with that many of my countrymen.  We were literally body to body in the trains, the subway stations, the streets, and the mall.  One could not reach out one’s hand without touching someone.  It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I’ve been in plenty of crowds before.

What I’m telling you all of this for, though, is to make the point that there were approximately two million people in DC, and not a SINGLE arrest.

Think about that for a second.

With the exception of a couple of prima donnas who got on our subway car on the way in – I don’t think they liked being so close to strangers – we didn’t encounter a SINGLE unpleasant person.  Everyone was smiling.  Everyone was making room for everyone else.   No one shoved.  No one raised a voice – or a hand – to another.  Everyone was helpful and considerate and kind – to complete strangers.

Case in point; we had neglected – despite O’Mama’s exhortations – to purchase chemical hand and toe warmers.  Beanie’s little feet were starting to hurt because they were so cold (keep in mind that we’d arrived at our section FOUR HOURS ahead of the start time for the festivities, with nothing to do but stand around in about 20 degrees).  I sent Mr. Chili off to see if he could find a vendor to purchase some of the little heat packs, but while he was gone, the man in front of us overheard me talking to Bean about how to keep her toes moving.  He reached into his pocket and gave us two packages of the warmers – one for Bean and one for Punkin’ Pie.  He said they were “extras,” but I’m not sure I believe him.  THAT’S the kind of thing I’m talking about.

You want another story?  Okay – I’ve got ‘em.  Reverend Lowrey had just finished his benediction, all through which the group we were in was “yes”-ing and “amen”-ing.  When it was all over, after a long and loud cheer, everyone in our immediate area started spontaneously hugging one another.  My children were scooped into the arms of smiling black grandmothers and excited Asian students and whooping white business people.  I’d been holding back tears for the whole morning, but when a black woman turned and drew me in to her – and held me a little longer because she could feel me trying not to sob – I was done for.  She squeezed me a little tighter, then said, so only I could hear, “It’s all right, Baby Girl; this is for ALL of us.”

Yes.  It is for ALL of us.