Mark and I went to DC [flying via PHL and driving down uneventfully, other than seeing alot of other joyous people doing likewise] having secured tickets to the ceremony's ticketed area near the Capitol and bought ball tickets. Having stood for BHO in the Iowa Caucuses, then been able to go to Denver and hear his acceptance speech at the Convention, going to the Inauguration seemed the next and right thing to do.
Given the reactions of my husband [who is really not into parties], my sister [who thought I was crazy] and an article in the Washington Post about the nightmare the ball would be, especially because of security, I listed those tickets on eBay. But the next morning, eBay took all Inaugural ticket sales down, even though someone had apparently paid for my ball tickets already. The eBay notice indicated it undid the sale and notified the bidders, but it did not [at least as to the sale]. So I received a PayPal notice of disputed sale and had to deal with that with a prompt refund, on arrival in DC. In the meantime, I had listed the tickets on CraigsList and after many inquiries firmed up the sale and one happy guy got two Midwestern Ball tickets and I got back my investment in the purchase. All well and good.
On Monday, we went in on a dry run to the Hart Building to pick up our tickets from Senator Grassley's office [they had to be picked up by 4:30]. My brother-in-law took us to the farthest out Metro station in Virginia and we bought two Metro daypass tickets [we later bought the commemorative Smartcard] so we could avoid some of the crush on Inauguration day. We went to the Capitol and stood in a long line that snaked around the Hart building. On passing through security [think TSA equivalent, though shoes could sometimes remain on] we went to the Senator's office, signed in and received our packet. So far, so good.
We didn't go down for the big Concert on Sunday, but did watch it on HBO that night [I hope and expect there will be video or audio productions from it on iTunes at some point]. Then, early to bed, early to rise. Up at 4-ish and at the Metro parking lot at 5-ish to find it crowded but not quite full [the Vienna stop has space for over 5,500 cars apparently]. We actually felt lucky: we parked, we were dressed warmly [longjohns and all] and seated on the Metro for the long ride into DC. We arrived at Metro Center and having decided to avoid the problems of trying to transfer, we got off and started hoofing it up the street toward the Purple Ticket Gate [our tickets were for entry at the Purple Ticket entry point, North Standing area]. On arriving at a horde of people at an entrance to an underground tunnel, we showed our tickets to the Police there and were directed to walk to the back of the line.
At this point, the line was about 5-6 people in width in the rows and stretched as far back as could be seen into the tunnel. We walked into the tunnel. . . and walked. . . .and walked . . . and walked and emerged to get in line where Hwy. 395 ran under another freeway and metro line. We then stood and waited. I kept busy taking pictures of the line and people [which are at my Flickr page] and reading text messages [which no longer made it through once we moved into the tunnel. We had arrived at about 8:00 a.m. to get in line and by 11:00 a.m., although the line was moving, we and a long stretch of people after us were still a block from the tunnel’s entrance, not even up to the Purple Gate.
The upshot of all this waiting is that we were part of what has been called The Purple Tunnel of Doom: a group of around 20,000 people [really!] who never made it into the ticketed area [some holders of blue and silver tickets also did not get in]. The whole fiasco is recorded in great detail in comments to a Washington Post story about it as well as in a Facebook group, Survivors of the Purple Tunnel of Doom, and other media articles.
Mark and I, realizing that we would never get into the ticketed area and knowing that the Mall [with its jumbotrons] was effectively closed to us, set out north and east to find a bar with a television. After a few false detours, we found a bar/restaurant [Armands Pizza] which had two TVs and a crowd of people. Bought some beers and watched the whole thing, enjoying lunch at the end. We were fortunate; others were not and are, legitimately, somewhat angry with the JCCIC about it [planning for the event was the responsibility of this Congressional Committee and the Capitol Police and Secret Service].
I’ve written my letter to Senator Grassley [linked on my Serendipity blog page], put the Purple Tunnel pictures on Flickr, and working to get other Inaugural sights up as well [the ambulance taking Teddy Kennedy to the hospital, Jimmy Carter leaving after the luncheon, a young man proposing to his girlfriend on bended knee, and other events, sad and joyous].
Just being there was incredible. When you think about it, over 2 million people were involved in some way and there were no arrests and other than some people needing assistance, no unpleasant events. The whole ‘vibe‘ of the weekend, and particularly that day, was joyful and excited. People were considerate and kind to each other and even those trapped in the Purple Tunnel never took out their sadness and frustrations on others. It’s probably too much to hope the euphoria and positive feelings last, but it’s an auspicious start to this next chapter in our country’s history.
