A historic occasion is sure to attract onlookers, but the word "crowd" does not begin to describe the masses that gathered at the National Mall on Tuesday to witness Barack Obama's inauguration.
Walking through the area, I saw no shortage of joyful tears, a penetrating sense of camaraderie and an utter lack of the usual anger that would accompany an event with bewildering, ever-changing security restrictions.
In fact, for those fortunate enough to have tickets, traversing the gates to the front proved close to impossible. Though the gates opened at 8 a.m., when I showed up at 9 they were already blocking the most obvious routes. I was told to double back, making several concentric circles that eventually stretched from Fourth Street to 17th Street and all the way through the Third Street Tunnel.
At one point, I was penned in by secret service agents who, for reasons unknown, let me go forward into an area that was completely cordoned off. However, they would not allow me to turn around and go back the way I came.
Yet, despite the stress of navigating the labyrinth of barricades, the men, women and children - compacted together and cooled by the frigid January air - were nearly ebullient in their friendliness. An older black man traveled through the crowd, shaking hands with strangers.
When he got to me, he declared, "We did it."
I could feel the electricity of an enraptured crowd as the anticipation built, and when Obama finally appeared the masses roared in excitement of hope, change and pride in their country.
