Inauguration Day: Part VIII (Endings & Goodbyes)

And so our adventure ended as our Metro train sped us away from Washington, DC, after the inauguration and back to Fairfax, Virginia, and our waiting cabin, hot tub, and pug. The five of us had a wonderful time relaxing by the wood fire, drinking celebratory champagne, and talking over the events we had been so fortunate to have witnessed in that unprecedented crowd of nearly 2 million spectators; by all accounts, the single largest event ever to be held on the Washington Mall. Still, there was a sense that things were winding down, and the only big task ahead of us was saying goodbye and traveling back to our normal lives.

Even now, over a month after the inauguration has ended, thinking back and looking at the photos, videos, and souvenirs illicit a powerful set of emotions in me. Although I can’t speak for anyone other than myself and Lil, I feel that this is the same for all of us who made the trip to the capital and took part in an event that one day, I feel, will be judged by historians as one of the greatest watershed moments in American politics and society. The man we were here today to see sworn in as our 44th President said it so succinctly and elegantly in his November 2008 acceptance speech in Grant Park:

“If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.”

The bitter cold; the long, long wait in the pre-dawn darkness; the challenges of getting out of there after it ended – none of that mattered, and I’d do it all over again. All two million of us would, I suspect. Millions and millions of our fellow citizens and many millions more watched this moment on television sets and listened on radios on every continent and in every nation, and perhaps those of us who were physically present were acting as their counterparts, or perhaps segregates is a better word. The entire time I was there, I felt a palpable sense of history that helped to color every moment, every syllable of every speech, and each note of music played by the exceptional United States Marine Corps band that sat in their beautiful uniforms and provided a big part of the pomp to this circumstance.

Wednesday morning, our departure day, was as sunny and beautiful as you could hope for, and was spent talking, laughing, drinking coffee, and packing. It didn’t take much time to get our belongings secured in the car, and then, with a last bittersweet glance back at our wonderful cabin, we nosed our Saab for home. An hour after leaving Hot Tub Heaven, we parked at the Fairfax Station and said our final goodbyes to Cesia, who was going to spend a few more days in DC on the business part of her trip. Davenport, excited to be out on the road again for new adventures, was having a wonderful time exploring the parking lot and sidewalks in front of the Metro station. Hugs were exchanged, last photos were taken, and with a last wave, Trevor's sister Cesia disappeared down the tunnel leading to the trains.

It took about 9 hours to make the trip back to Greenfield. We got a bit lost around the outskirts of Wilmington, Delaware, which was noteworthy for passing a barbeque joint that had a hand lettered sign proclaiming “Muskrat - N - Coons” near Minquadale, Delaware. In spite of my best efforts, stopping here was vetoed by my traveling companions. Unlike our trip going to Virginia, there was no snow, and no snowstorm, and so we were able to see the outskirts of Baltimore, Maryland, and the usual highway sights. We saw a Carvel truck (no doubt full of Fudgy the Whale cakes), a very peculiar-looking defense contractor's corporate headquarters that looked like a US Navy warship, and I wrote the odd phrase "Hell Maggot" on a scrap of paper, although I have no idea what this means now. Trevor nicely drove the entire trip home, which I appreciated greatly. Probably the single negative happening was when a ghastly cold sore struck with a vengeance on Lil’s lower lip, already tender from exposure to the Washington cold. Happily, as prepared as a Boy Scout, Lil had the proper medication on hand, and it was kept in check as a nuisance instead of precipitating a trip to the ER.

At the risk of making this late entry into our blog sound like an Oscar acceptance speech, I want to thank first of all Cesia and Trevor for being part of it with us, fighting off the bitter cold, and making even the most challenging situations fun and exciting. Robin, Trevor’s wife, needs to be thanked for so graciously watching their young son back in Greenfield and lending us her husband in the first place. My boss John also deserves a standing ovation for helping to schedule the resources and personnel that allowed me to miss three days of work despite a heavy client list. Steve, a fellow English professor, covered Lil's intersession public speaking class while she was gone, and Jan, another colleague, lent us her camera to supplement our own. Finally, Lil was the catalyst that made all this possible, from taking a leap of faith in the middle of the primary race that Barack Obama would become our next president, to finding Hot Tub Heaven, securing tickets to the Illinois State Ball and the inauguration, and so much more. Without her, none of it would have been possible.

Of course, our deepest thanks goes to Davenport T. Pug for, as always, being the fantastic little traveling companion that she is.

Dane