I was there

Dupont Circle, January 19th: A crowd has gathered, and the people are throwing shoes at a large, inflatable George W. Bush. Muntazer al-Zaidi, wherever he is, is vindicated.

Not far from Dupont Circle, January 19th: A Catholic church sports a sign that thanks President Bush for “protecting life,” reminding me of the unfortunate truth that many of my fellow Catholics believe that an embryonic stem cell is a person, but a pregnant Iraqi whose death (along with the death of her unborn child) is caused by Bush’s unnecessary war on the Iraqi people apparently is not. This shallow thinking ignores Pope John Paul II’s March 2003 characterization of the invasion of Iraq as neither morally nor legally justified. Or is it that the Catholics who support Bush and his policies think of themselves as holier than the pope?

Union Jack’s, a pub in Arlington, the evening of January 19th: The crawler across the bottom of the big-screen television tells us that Vice President Cheney will be in a wheelchair the next day at the Inauguration. Most of the customers cheer. Disrespectful? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just that one reaps what one sows.

Inauguration Day: President Bush appears, and there is groaning in the crowd, which eventually turns to scattered boos. Somebody starts singing, “Na-na-na-na; na-na-na-na; hey; hey; good-bye;….” It catches the fancy of many in the crowd. I join in. Again, one reaps what one sows. One cannot treat the Constitution and Laws of the United States with disrespect and expect to be treated with respect by the people.

The swearing-in: Despite Chief Justice Roberts’s botching the oath, Barack Obama is sworn in as our 44th President. The crowd, which has been holding its collective breath (afraid that somehow, somebody or something would prevent this happy moment from taking place) exhales and erupts. Tears are running down cheeks, and people are hugging people whom they do not know, have never seen before and will never see again.

After the ceremonies: As the helicopter with the former first family flies overhead, many people begin to cheer. Two thoughts enter my mind: (1) Gone at last! Gone at last! Thank God Almighty! George W. Bush is gone at last! (2) The Village of Crawford, Texas, is no longer missing its Village Idiot.

Back home in West Virginia, January 22d: I sit down to breakfast at Harding’s, a restaurant just north of Charleston. A man near me says (to nobody in particular), “What’s so special about this Inauguration? It was just another Black man moving into public housing!” I announce that I was at the Inauguration and that it was special to me. Another man asks me whether I heard the “inappropriate” benediction by Rev. Joseph Lowery. I tell him that it was a great prayer, that I heard nothing inappropriate.

I was there. Now I’m back here.