The official estimates on retail revenue during the four-day inauguration weekend aren’t in yet, Chris Knudson, the senior vice president of marketing and communications at the D.C. Chamber of Commerce, said Wednesday. But the Chamber of Commerce expects good news from businesses.
It had originally estimated $700 million to $1 billion worth of business taking place during the inauguration festivities, Knudson said.
“Now,” he said, “we think it’ll exceed that.”
Neal Downing, a real estate appraiser from Largo, Md., capitalized on the amount of visitors attending the outdoor ceremonies.
“I’m selling hand warmers trying to keep America warm,” he said at the U St. Metro Station Monday night as he distributed HotHands hand warmer packets he kept in a plastic bag to a group of four women.
(It turned out that they needed them -- the National Weather Service averaged that the temperature Tuesday was 29 degrees and dropped as low as 16.)
Downing said he had ordered 640 pairs of handwarmers from the HeatMax company to sell during inauguration weekend. He said he sold 500 on Monday for $2 each and planned to get more Tuesday morning from a friend.
Kevin Luong, an assistant manager at CVS on 8th Street, four blocks from the Mall, saw similar sales of hand warmers. He said the store stocks gloves, hats, and hand and toe warmers for the winter.
“We sold out on inauguration day in the afternoon,” he said Wednesday, estimating that his store sold a few hundred hand warmers from Monday evening through Tuesday night. “As for gloves and hats, we had just a few left.”
The store charges 99 cents more for a two-pack of hand warmers than Downing’s price. One toe warmer pack sold for $1.99.
“CVS was crowded like a supermarket yesterday, even in the morning,” he added. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Knudson said retailers across the city experienced heightened business this week.
“Today [the Chamber’s] president [Barbara Land] was at Macy’s at Metro Center, and the store was practically cleaned out from the weekend,” he added.
He said that many visitors to the city had been unprepared for the cold weather, and businesses had sold large amounts of cold-weather gear like hats, gloves and long johns.
“There were two things people were concerned about -- one was snow, which we fortunately didn’t get, and the other thing was the cold,” he said. Businesses “anticipated that it would be cold and people would be outside for long periods of time.”
-- Katelyn Polantz
Showing posts with label Presidential Inauguration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Presidential Inauguration. Show all posts
21.1.09
Assorted Moments from the Inauguration For Your Enjoyment
Below is a story on some of the most interesting folks we met at the inauguration, and Katelyn wrote a rundown of the day's events, but neither tells the whole story. To add to the bunch, here is an assortment of moments that'll stick out in my memory months down the line.
1) Most of the roads in Downtown D.C. were totally closed for the day, blocked off by thousands and thousands of gates, railings and army men. Walking through the streets towards the capitol, with thousands of others rushing by, felt a lot like we were on the set of a movie about the apocalypse (I know, I used that comparison before, but it holds) where people leave their cars and just bolt to safety. I fully expected Will Smith to pop out and yell something like "Get out of the city while you still can!"
2. The consistency of the audience's crowdedness was totally inconsistent. At one point, Heater and I were being pushed through a bottleneck leading into a bigger area by countless impatient people. A tall man stood in the middle of the flow, his arms roped around his two kids, screaming, "There's nowhere else to go! Stop pushing by! Please, God, stop pushing by!" So we promptly pushed by, and not 20 feet later were on the mall with enough room to park a van without bothering anyone.
3. Press passes make for good souvenirs, but, umm, that's about it. While my pass to Sunday's concert got me close enough to smell Bruce Springsteen's manly musk (well, not quite), our passes at the inauguration were about as helpful as we were when people asked us how to get to the (Insert Metro Station name here) Metro Station. We asked volunteers, cops and a beefy army fellow where the press pass granted us access, and the only information we got was "I have no idea" or "There's a press entrance on 12th Street." Now that second one would've been helpful if we'd been less than a mile and a half from 12th Street at the time.
Finally, when we got on the Mall, we asked a young woman working the press pit if we could come in. She looked at our passes and said, "This area is only for standing cameras" (Video cameras on tripods). I asked politely, "So, what exactly does having a press pass mean, then?" To which she said, "Nothing."
4. We situated ourselves close to the makeshift MSNBC soundstage, in which the likes of Chris Matthews, Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow, among others, hosted the Inauguration live on their channel. People went nuts over seeing their favorite pundits, albeit through an elevated glass encasing. Chris Matthews, on the other hand, looked either constipated or just grumpy.
5. If Bush was unaware of the public's dislike of him up to yesterday, he was slapped in the face by it when, upon being introduced at the end of a string of ex-presidents, he was booed. I cannot fathom what it feels like to be booed by two million people. Two million people! I get upset if someone looks at me funny. He must be an incredibly strong, or incredibly (and blissfully) unaware man.
6. When the Inauguration let out and the Mall began to clear, the grass looked like a landfill the day after Fourth of July. Those super-patriotic folk who get upset when someone lets the American flag touch the ground would've had at least three heart attacks at seeing this mess.
7. In the midst of the post-Inauguration madness, we met Pitt News-er and Obama campaign worker Tony Jovenitti. Small world!
8. Along with Tony's friend Jim, the four of us trekked about a mile through the crowded, maddening streets to find some food. Every restaurant within at least 2 miles of the mall was packed. Luckily for us, we found a health food store (imagine a GNC run by hippies) that also sold sandwiches that few other people had discovered. But it also had no place to sit. Sitting on the curb outside, I dropped my last piece of Buffalo Burger on the street and quickly picked it up and ate it gluttonously. Few times in my life have I felt so homeless.
9. Heater and I walked about a mile away from Pennsylvania Ave (where the parade was) before finding a street without a ton of people screaming for cabs. We soon got one, after a delightful walk through some projects, and promptly fell asleep. Luckily, we woke up just before the cab driver would've had to awkwardly tap us at our stop.
10. Having stood in the cold (26 degrees!) from about 6 a.m. until we hopped the cab at 4 p.m., my legs hurt and my lips froze to the point that I'll be on a healthy regiment of Chapstick for the next month. We got home and fell asleep. It was the most rewarding sleep ever.
I'm writing this from my house in Oakland, after sleeping through the entire drive home from DC at 5 a.m. this morning (Sorry Heater and Katelyn). What an amazing, fantastic, words-can't-describe-it experience.
Cheers, and here's to four great years.
- Justin Jacobs
1) Most of the roads in Downtown D.C. were totally closed for the day, blocked off by thousands and thousands of gates, railings and army men. Walking through the streets towards the capitol, with thousands of others rushing by, felt a lot like we were on the set of a movie about the apocalypse (I know, I used that comparison before, but it holds) where people leave their cars and just bolt to safety. I fully expected Will Smith to pop out and yell something like "Get out of the city while you still can!"
2. The consistency of the audience's crowdedness was totally inconsistent. At one point, Heater and I were being pushed through a bottleneck leading into a bigger area by countless impatient people. A tall man stood in the middle of the flow, his arms roped around his two kids, screaming, "There's nowhere else to go! Stop pushing by! Please, God, stop pushing by!" So we promptly pushed by, and not 20 feet later were on the mall with enough room to park a van without bothering anyone.
3. Press passes make for good souvenirs, but, umm, that's about it. While my pass to Sunday's concert got me close enough to smell Bruce Springsteen's manly musk (well, not quite), our passes at the inauguration were about as helpful as we were when people asked us how to get to the (Insert Metro Station name here) Metro Station. We asked volunteers, cops and a beefy army fellow where the press pass granted us access, and the only information we got was "I have no idea" or "There's a press entrance on 12th Street." Now that second one would've been helpful if we'd been less than a mile and a half from 12th Street at the time.
Finally, when we got on the Mall, we asked a young woman working the press pit if we could come in. She looked at our passes and said, "This area is only for standing cameras" (Video cameras on tripods). I asked politely, "So, what exactly does having a press pass mean, then?" To which she said, "Nothing."
4. We situated ourselves close to the makeshift MSNBC soundstage, in which the likes of Chris Matthews, Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow, among others, hosted the Inauguration live on their channel. People went nuts over seeing their favorite pundits, albeit through an elevated glass encasing. Chris Matthews, on the other hand, looked either constipated or just grumpy.
5. If Bush was unaware of the public's dislike of him up to yesterday, he was slapped in the face by it when, upon being introduced at the end of a string of ex-presidents, he was booed. I cannot fathom what it feels like to be booed by two million people. Two million people! I get upset if someone looks at me funny. He must be an incredibly strong, or incredibly (and blissfully) unaware man.
6. When the Inauguration let out and the Mall began to clear, the grass looked like a landfill the day after Fourth of July. Those super-patriotic folk who get upset when someone lets the American flag touch the ground would've had at least three heart attacks at seeing this mess.
7. In the midst of the post-Inauguration madness, we met Pitt News-er and Obama campaign worker Tony Jovenitti. Small world!
8. Along with Tony's friend Jim, the four of us trekked about a mile through the crowded, maddening streets to find some food. Every restaurant within at least 2 miles of the mall was packed. Luckily for us, we found a health food store (imagine a GNC run by hippies) that also sold sandwiches that few other people had discovered. But it also had no place to sit. Sitting on the curb outside, I dropped my last piece of Buffalo Burger on the street and quickly picked it up and ate it gluttonously. Few times in my life have I felt so homeless.
9. Heater and I walked about a mile away from Pennsylvania Ave (where the parade was) before finding a street without a ton of people screaming for cabs. We soon got one, after a delightful walk through some projects, and promptly fell asleep. Luckily, we woke up just before the cab driver would've had to awkwardly tap us at our stop.
10. Having stood in the cold (26 degrees!) from about 6 a.m. until we hopped the cab at 4 p.m., my legs hurt and my lips froze to the point that I'll be on a healthy regiment of Chapstick for the next month. We got home and fell asleep. It was the most rewarding sleep ever.
I'm writing this from my house in Oakland, after sleeping through the entire drive home from DC at 5 a.m. this morning (Sorry Heater and Katelyn). What an amazing, fantastic, words-can't-describe-it experience.
Cheers, and here's to four great years.
- Justin Jacobs
20.1.09
Inauguration Crowd Huge, Varied and Dancing
People gave up a lot to see the inauguration of Barack Obama — from breathing room to hours at work — but few were willing to give up as much as Johnita Cox.
The 67-year-old African American woman from tiny Jackson, Alabama, her accent thick and voice slow, said with a wink, “Even if my feet got frostbitten, I wouldn’t mind it. But I’m already warm because I’m here to see Obama.”
Johnita Cox
Cox swayed and danced to the orchestral music blaring through the speakers set up throughout the Mall to keep warm. While, for many, it was a time for laughter and light-hearted celebration, the gravity of the event pressed hard on Cox’ shoulders.
“I’m gonna write this down so my future grandchildren know that there grandmother was here, in D.C. to see our first black African American president,” she said, her voice cracking as her eyes watered. “I came two weeks early just to be here. I wouldn’t have missed this for nothing.”
Though dancing was a preferred method of warmth for some as enthusiastic as Cox, many opted for layers and layers of blankets. Even for those from the country’s coldest point.
The Hamerly family, who flew down from Alaska, sat on the ground with a thick fleece blanket wrapping them all together in a cocoon of body warmth. Melinda Hamerly, 42, preferred staying close with her daughters Natalie and Stephanie than being crunched in with hundreds of thousands of strangers closer to the front.
The Hamerly Family
“We were right up at the front of this section being pushed up against everybody. I hear people talk about that but I’ve never been in anything like it,” she said. “More than the entire state of Alaska’s going to out here on the mall today.”
In a crowd estimated by The New York Times to have been between 1.8 and 2 million people, the emotions were both high and varied going into Obama’s inauguration.
Some looked grimly back at the past, some were near speechless at the present and all were upbeat and hopeful towards the future.
“He was very articulate,” said Florida teacher Maggie Cavin of Obama’s inaugural address, during which she jumped and shouted. “He talked about dissent. That really touched me because we’ve been told that dissent is unpatriotic for the last eight years. We’ve had a monkey in office who can’t string a sentence together. Now we’ve got someone who’s gifted and articulate, thoughtful and wise.”
She wasn’t alone in her sentiment. When President Bush and Vice President Cheney were introduced along with former presidents Carter, Bush Sr. and Clinton, widespread booing and chants of goodbye songs could be heard throughout the Mall.
But the negativity was short lived — this day was about Barack Obama. And his hopeful future haircut.
New Jersey barber Antoine Brunson shared a laugh with his childhood friends in the center of the Mall, praising themselves for their good spot.
“My tip for getting a good spot would be to start elbowing. Old ladies, grandmas, anyone,” he joked. “But if I could work on Obama, I’d give him a Mohawk — clean him up around the sides. Something just a little different.”
Reflective of the movement that helped put Obama in office, much of the crowd was made of young people.
Georgetown University senior George Chipev and friend Jeremy Long were ready to party. Armed with a bottle of celebratory champagne, they traded swigs while looking back on the day’s events as the crowd of millions dispersed.
“Our campus gym was open today and I was called in to work,” said Chipev. “I said there was no way in hell I’m coming to guard while old republicans use the pool when I could be here.”
Long spoke with the authority of a man on the edge of ‘young voter’ status.
“I was here four years ago for the inauguration and it was completely different. The environment of Barack has created so much buzz. It hasn’t even materialized — it’s just a buzz,” he said.
And it wasn’t just the champagne.
- Justin Jacobs
-Photos by Michael Heater
Recap of the Inauguration Swearing-in ceremony
He stood before a crowd of millions that filled the three-mile stretch of the National Mall from the Capitol building to the Lincoln Memorial.
To accommodate the crowd, Jumbotron screens and massive speakers lining both sides of the Mall played the scene unfolding on the Capitol steps.
Some bystanders, if not shoulder to shoulder straining to see to Jumbotron and to hear the booming echo of the speakers, sat on the ground and covered themselves with blankets to shield themselves from the wind and the cold. The National Weather Service reported that the high yesterday in
The evangelical leader Rick Warren gave the blessing to open the event at 11:30 a.m., then Aretha Franklin sang a soulful rendition of “My Country Tis of Thee.” California Sen. Dianne Feinstein, chairperson of the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies, introduced each motion of the event.
Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens read the oath of office for Vice President Joseph Robert Biden III first just before noon, then U.S. Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. for Obama minutes later.
Between the two leaders’ oaths, a quartet comprised of violin, cello, piano and clarinet played a rendition, arranged by composer John Williams, of the tune “Simple Gifts.”
Obama then placed his hand on the Lincoln Bible, which first lady Michelle Obama held. He recited the oath from Roberts’ cues, some of which jumbled words and required repeating.
To the sound of disjointed cheers and chants from the mass of onlookers, Obama began his inaugural address about 10 minutes after noon.
He thanked now-former President George W. Bush for his service to the country, then called into action the listening Americans. He urged the country to act responsibly and work to overcome the challenges the nation faces.
“Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking
He cited the economic crisis, the war in
“Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real,” he said. “They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this,
Millions of people listened intently to these words, mostly silent during the speech except for a few occasional yells and chants of the new president’s last name. Some said “Amen” to his words, many nodded in approval.
A man tuned an old radio he had into NPR and listened to their commentary in addition to the echoing broadcast from the speakers. Cameras flashed throughout the crowd, and onlookers waved American flags, creating a flickering blanket of red and white over the dark sea of people.
“This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed,” Obama continued. “Why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.”
Obama concluded the speech after about 18 minutes:
“With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come.
“Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations,” he said, finishing the speech.
Elizabeth Alexander, a professor at
As many of the crowd members began to disperse, a process that took hours and closed many Metro stations and clogged roadways during the afternoon, the Rev. Joseph E. Lowery offered a benediction prayer to conclude the ceremony.
Bush and First Lady Laura Bush left the Capitol in a helicopter, and the Obamas and 200 guests left the bitter cold outside to attend the Inaugural luncheon in the Capitol building before the Inaugural parade commenced at 3:30 p.m, escorting the Obamas down
“Lord … we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man, and when white will embrace what is right,” Lowery said, ending the swearing-in ceremony. “That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen.”
-Katelyn Polantz
-Photos by Michael Heater
Backtrack to last night
A snapshot of the scene last night in front of the Capitol (People were already lining up to find their spots for this morning):
Sarah Lloyd, 16-year-old high school junior from
“We’re going to eat Pringles, sleep,” she said on Monday as she sat with a group of students from
Their backup plan, if they could not stay where they were, was to find the closest Jumbotron.
“There’s a chance they’ll let us stand out here,” Sarah said, adding that she had volunteered for the campaign and canvassed in
Local news tackles D.C.
Here's the footage of the KDKA report I was interviewed for, which I metioned in my earlier report.
-Katelyn Polantz
Inauguration Day Photos
I've posted a slideshow of images from Inauguration Day. It's been an incredibly long and rewarding day!
-Vaughn Wallace
-Vaughn Wallace
Waiting in line at the Inauguration
This morning I woke up at 4 a.m. to see the world change. I braved below-freezing temperatures and crowds of millions, and I exercised incredible patience, which has been precious throughout the past week.
I'm traveling on unofficial business with three friends who worked as field organizers on Obama's campaign, including my best friend, Robin, who brought me as her plus-one ticket to the inaugural swearing-in ceremony. I was one of about a quarter million people with tickets. (I know... I owe her, right?)
The metro opened at four this morning, and none of us felt sure about what the crowds would be like. Things seemed relatively normal for Washington -- at first. We left the studio we're sharing north of Dupont Circle and headed toward the metro. People trickled into the station. We slid our farecards through the machines and waited for the train.
Four in the morning, and the first train was completely packed. My group got separated. Robin and I got on the next train. There were no strangers there, we were packed like sardines. Everyone was in good spirits and courteous, asking each other where they were from. Detroit, Atlanta. One middle-aged woman was from Europe.
This is no joke. The European woman asked someone why the train was so crowded. Another passenger informed her that the president was being inaugurated today, and she said, "Oh, the black one?"
At any rate, our group reunited. We got off at the Judiciary Square stop. It was so dark and cold.
There were masses of people, and we were laughing in amazement at how many people got up at least before 4 a.m. to see Barack Obama. People flooded the streets. We found our line for the Purple tickets (the standing section right behind the seated section, on the northwest side of Capitol Hill). The Capitol building was beaming white and beautiful. We chatted with the people around us, who were from Ann Arbor and Las Vegas.
At 5:30 a.m. the Canadians arrived. No, seriously. A group of about 30 people marched from the direction of Union Station metro stop. One guy was carrying a huge Canadian flag. They headed toward the end of the line.
Everything felt surreal, and the cold seeped through all three of my layers as time passed. Most people had a sort of dance that kept them warm. I was marching in place because my toes hurt. A man was doing jumping jacks in line. We later found out his name was Gar (not sure of the spelling), and he would become the hero of the Purple ticket line.
The sun started to rise somewhere around 7 a.m., and everyone started to cheer up. Every so often people would break out in cheers or songs. Eventually there was a tambourine. One man told us that the gates were supposed to open at 7 a.m., but they didn't. There started to be problems because the hordes of people coming in from the metro in waves didn't know where to go, and a mass of people began trying to cut the line. Most of them herded in the middle of the intersection instead of finding the end of the line.
That was where things got interesting for the Purple line. We were standing somewhat near the entrance to the gate, right where the line curved from the Capitol lawn down the street at Constitution and Second. As people started trying to butt in, people on our side of the curve started chanting, "No line cuts!" A group of people left the line to form a human barrier, locking hands to prevent people from butting in line and isolating our section from the crowd of confused people. The chanters switched to "Defense! Defense!" Gar and others started directing people in the opposite direction. Officers with machine guns showed up to help control, but the communication wasn't effective. Finally, a little after 8 a.m., we made our way through the Purple gate. We were lucky. The ticket-holders who weren't in our protected part of the line got caught in the crowd of thousands.
More on my experiences soon -- I'm headed to the Youth Ball.
- Lindsay Carroll
Recounting the Big Day upon returning home
Well, I made it back, after setting out to get to the Capitol building at 6 a.m. I took the bus to 24th St. and Pennsylvania Avenue, then got on the Metro at Foggy Bottom.
At L'enfant Plaza Metro, I got off and stood in a crowd of hundreds that wasn't moving out of the station and that was increaing in size with each passing train. Ah, so this is what they mean by "crush-level" crowds, I thought. I got back on the next train and took it one more stop, to Federal Center, which was a little less crowded because it had just been reopened after earlier closures.
Not so on the street outside the blue gate entrance -- "crush-level" was a mild description. Four blocks worth of people standing in line shoulder to shoulder 20 across were waiting to enter the Blue ticketed area, which I guessed would hold far less. It was 8 a.m., and I began to wonder about safety and the likelihood of me getting through the gate to my ticketed area. A woman in front of me began to panic because of the enclosing crowd.
I was alone, the sole Pitt News editor with a ticket to be up front, and I pushed my way to the outside to get some air. People farther behind me started aggressively pushing, shouting and banging on a slow-moving passing car. That was it, I was done.
I walked back to the Federal Center station to figure out a plan, and when I asked someone for directions, a man named Jerome offered to walk with me. He also had a ticket to stand on the Capitol lawn up close and had decided to forfeit his chances of being close.
We walked about 10 blocks in a crowd that filled the entire street, and pushed our way to the hill of the Washington Monument (along the way, I ran into a cameraman from KDKA-TV with political reporter John Delano, and since I recognized John and said I was from Pittsburgh, he interviewed me. They weren't the only journalists to make appearances -- always within eyesight someone was shooting professional photos or video or holding a boom microphone). We found a prime spot in the middle of the crowd -- I could see the Capitol straight ahead -- far, far away, but it was good enough. Jumbotron screens and massive speakers played the scene unfolding on the Capitol steps.
Two hours left until the ceremony began, and it was cold and windy. Some bystanders, if not shoulder to shoulder, had sat down on the ground. A man next to me tuned an old radio he had into NPR and listened to their commentary. And nearly everyone had a camera or video camera.
At one point, a crew from ABC News pushed through, and reporter I probably should have recognized interviewed a couple from Holland standing next to us.
"I'm proud of the passport I hold," the woman said. "But it is a great day for America."
[I'll tell you more about the ceremony itself later, but right now there's food to eat and CNN to watch and thoughts to regroup.]
After the ceremony, I trekked across seas of people (seriously, it was unbelivable -- every street, every open space, every block was packed shoulder to shoulder with the unendlessly shuffling crowd) to the Lincoln Memorial, then down to the Potomac riverfront and back to Georgetown. On the way, I saw thousands of bikers and walkers, some playing drums and chanting, some talking on cell phones, some selling hadnwarmers or souveniers. But most were quiet, marching away from this massive gathering to disperse back into the real world.
It's hard to put into words what being in a crowd of millions feels like. It's scary, it's hard to tell what's around you, it's intuitive and blind in the way you walk with the flow. It's surreal and incredibly unpleasant at the same time, especially with freezing temperatures.
It's also hard to put into words what it's like to witness history such as this. Even though I watched Obama take the oath of office from more than a mile away, I feel like he had shared his moment intimately with the citizens who chose him as their leader.
The Big Day: Game Time
It's game time. 4:18 AM. Already, excited shouts can be heard outside my window as people make the trek down Massachusetts Avenue. My house is exactly 3.1 miles by foot, and the thermometer says 12 degrees out. Time for a brisk stroll downtown now. Yes, at 4:18AM. Metro service started 18 minutes ago--I'm already late. Will post pictures in a few hours.
-Vaughn Wallace
-Vaughn Wallace
The British are coming! The British are coming!
The streets of Capitol Hill tonight were not unlike a scene in a movie about the apocalypse or some grand scale natural disaster.
Policemen and security guards roamed around, but barely a soul could be found - only cold air and the occasional paper bag floating down the sidewalk in the brisk wind.
But we couldn't have be the only people crazy enough to try and get close to what would be the scene of the action in only a few hours - the capitol. Or so our logic went.
We were right.
We were able to trek up to the back of the gated area lined with seats (where the big wigs will sit tomorrow) and found quite a few signs of bundled up life there.
Among the more interesting folks (that is, having more to say then "It's cold" or "Wow, there are so many chairs!") were a group of British students.
Guy Burkitt and Byron Thomas (names seldom get more British then that), both 21 and students at the University of Bristol, were both elated and disappointed.
Both are part of the University Presidential Inaugeration Conference, a conference of American and international students who all signed up and paid to take part in a few days of heavyweight speakers and seminars, as well as a chance to experience the swearing in ceremony and following parade.
Silly them - they thought that the Conference, which costs almost 3,000 dollars, would provide them tickets to the Inauguration. The website does say, "The Conference is comprised of exclusive and private inaugural events... as well as public ceremonial events, such as the official swearing-in ceremony and the inaugural parade."
Guess they didn't read the fine print - the frustrated students were empty handed for tickets, but still wide eyed just at the notion of being here, a continent away from home, to celebrate in Obama's Inauguration.
And, apparently, so is the whole of England.
"Bush was constantly vilified by the media and satirists in the U.K. – the Bushisms, the dreadful things he’s done, that he can’t speak English properly. Obama comes off as the antithesis of that – a dignified statesman," said Burkitt. "What he does represent is a change in image. Obama gives a sense that he’s more willing to cooperate with people around the rest of the world."
"No one thinks that within a week you’ll be out of Iraq and Guantanamo Bay will be shut down, but it’s a new dignity and a new approach that goes down better with the rest of the world," he continued.
Thomas agreed, but was also in awe at the sheer fact that politics could draw such a crowd.
"This kind of culture doesn’t exist in the U.K. – an excitement towards politics, the spectacle of it. It’s nice to be around people who are excited about the political system, the change that’s happening," he said.
Policemen and security guards roamed around, but barely a soul could be found - only cold air and the occasional paper bag floating down the sidewalk in the brisk wind.
But we couldn't have be the only people crazy enough to try and get close to what would be the scene of the action in only a few hours - the capitol. Or so our logic went.
We were right.
We were able to trek up to the back of the gated area lined with seats (where the big wigs will sit tomorrow) and found quite a few signs of bundled up life there.
Among the more interesting folks (that is, having more to say then "It's cold" or "Wow, there are so many chairs!") were a group of British students.
Guy Burkitt and Byron Thomas (names seldom get more British then that), both 21 and students at the University of Bristol, were both elated and disappointed.
Both are part of the University Presidential Inaugeration Conference, a conference of American and international students who all signed up and paid to take part in a few days of heavyweight speakers and seminars, as well as a chance to experience the swearing in ceremony and following parade.
Silly them - they thought that the Conference, which costs almost 3,000 dollars, would provide them tickets to the Inauguration. The website does say, "The Conference is comprised of exclusive and private inaugural events... as well as public ceremonial events, such as the official swearing-in ceremony and the inaugural parade."
Guess they didn't read the fine print - the frustrated students were empty handed for tickets, but still wide eyed just at the notion of being here, a continent away from home, to celebrate in Obama's Inauguration.
And, apparently, so is the whole of England.
"Bush was constantly vilified by the media and satirists in the U.K. – the Bushisms, the dreadful things he’s done, that he can’t speak English properly. Obama comes off as the antithesis of that – a dignified statesman," said Burkitt. "What he does represent is a change in image. Obama gives a sense that he’s more willing to cooperate with people around the rest of the world."
"No one thinks that within a week you’ll be out of Iraq and Guantanamo Bay will be shut down, but it’s a new dignity and a new approach that goes down better with the rest of the world," he continued.
Thomas agreed, but was also in awe at the sheer fact that politics could draw such a crowd.
"This kind of culture doesn’t exist in the U.K. – an excitement towards politics, the spectacle of it. It’s nice to be around people who are excited about the political system, the change that’s happening," he said.
- Justin Jacobs, blogging from the couch at 3:49 a.m., approx. one hour and 11 minutes before my alarm is set to go off to wake me up for my journey to the Inauguration. I'll sleep when I'm dead.
19.1.09
Rundown of Monday night
The chronicle of Heater, Justin, Victor and I on Inauguration Eve:
-- On U St., we listened to two rappers hold a makeshift concert in the street outside a stand selling all sorts of Obama paraphenalia, T-shirts, flashing buttons of the first family, you name it
-- Got on the Subway at U-Street/African-American Civil War Memorial and took it to Archives/Navy Memorial
-- I, along with a crowd of others preparing for tomorrow, bought handwarmer packs from a guy in the Metro station for $2. He said he had sold 500 packs that day alone.
-- We stopped outside the Newseum to pay homage to the day's newspaper front pages from each of the 50 states displayed outside. The Huffington Post party was hopping inside, and we watched will.i.am sing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Apparently, Arianna Huffington, Tom Hanks and our former colleague Marin were inside at the black tie affair.
-- Walked to the Capitol and spoke to the men setting up the barricades for the parade tomorrow. All streets around the mall were closed, and they had taken down many of the stop lights and loaded them for temporary storage onto trucks. For miles, the streets were lined with crowd barriers.
-- Met a few people staking out their spots for tomorrow: two groups of girls, a 16-year-old and her mother from Chicago and three college students from Virginia, shared Pringles and a blanket. They had been there since 7 p.m. and were hoping their zealous camp-out in the cold would win them a right to sit in the ticketed area. They said they weren't that cold, and that they were having fun making friends. I wonder if they'll be saying the same thing after waiting around for another 8 hours.
-- Talked to the men setting up barricades at the blue gate entrance area (where my ticket will grant me access for tomorrow). They said they weren't cold either, but they were worried about having everything set up by 5 a.m.
-- Grabbed a cab on Independence Avenue to go home. Traffic heading east was at a stand still (it was about 12:30 and the parties/balls were letting out), and a cabbie picked us up going the opposite direction. He took us to the Smithsonian Metro stopped near the Washington Monument, threw his hands up in disgust and advised us to get out and take the subway. The roads throughout the Mall were all closed, and it could have taken us hours to get back into NorthWest D.C.
-- Road the Metro, which was packed with young bums like us as well as middle agers in tuxedos and ball gowns, to Dupont Circle. Along the way we met three gentlemen from Atlanta who had attended the Georgia Ball. One, who had a brother from Pittsburgh, said he wouldn't even attempt to come into D.C. tomorrow, he'd rather watch it on TV. Another, a former TV news anchor at Fox 5, seemed happy to speak to a student journalists and took our picture a few times.
-- Grabbed a cab and made it back to Glover Park. We've readied our clothes (in layers, of course, like multiple pairs of socks and gloves) and will be up again in two hours to trek to the Capitol.
-Katelyn Polantz
Photos by Michael Heater
Wouldn't you rather be farther South?
Harry Dest, his wife Ouida and their 7-year-old daughter Hunter are bracing for the worst this Tuesday. They have three standing-room-only tickets to Barack Obama’s Presidential Inauguration swearing-in ceremony, and it’s going to be cold – a high of 32 degrees, not counting the wind, according to the National Weather Service forecast office.
The Dests are from
“We’re trying to do the best we can by buying as much stuff before we came up here,” Harry said.
The family said they spent $300 on cold-weather gear for the Inauguration.
“It’s a jacket for me, boots for her, scarves, gloves, handwarmers,” Ouida said. “We’re freezing, but it’s a moment we wouldn’t trade for anything.
Harry ran through the family’s checklist for the big day: They’ll be up at 3:30 a.m. to catch the orange or blue line Metro from
That means they’ll be standing on the Capitol Lawn from 5:30 a.m. on, until the ceremony commences at 11:30. Music will begin at 10 a.m. to help pass the time.
Ouida said they’ve been researching how to prepare for Tuesday for weeks. She plans on bringing a sleeping bag for Hunter to use to keep warm.
“Bundle up and dress warmly, make sure you have comfortable foot gear, cover your head and neck,” Harry said. “Even though it’s going to be cold, there’s going to be so much energy here, it won’t matter once the day comes.”
-Katelyn Polantz (who will be following the Dest's recommendation and catching a bus at 5 a.m. tomorrow. Don't worry, Dad, I'll wear lots of layers.)
Bracing for the chill
Yesterday was chilly, as predicted. The weather channel said it was 35 degrees, but there's a wind chill and the sun didn't break through the clouds.
In front of the Capitol building in mid-afternoon yesterday, bundled up visitors milled around taking photos, meeting each other and scoping out the area for the big event Tuesday.
Chris Quigley, who has worked in
She said she expects Inauguration Day to be a bit colder than it was today. The Presidential Inaugural Committee, in literature published last month, advised spectators to prepare for 37 degree weather.
Actually, the National Weather Service says it’s going to be a high of 32 degrees – not counting 10 to 15 mile-per-hour winds. Yikes, that’s cold.
-Katelyn Polantz
Look! Heater's photo (posted below on this blog) made it to the New York Times' Readers' album of the Inauguration!
It's the one updated at 11:50am on Monday (a sunset over the Lincoln Memorial)
DC Steelers Nation Photos
As Katelyn mentioned, we'll have some multimedia from the festivities posted later in the week.
Covering all the events each day is a ton of work. Everyone is on their feet in the freezing weather almost all day getting jostled by the crowds. Free wifi connections are a godsend (Thank you, Cosi!); we've been taking advantage of them to post quick updates throughout the day. Many of us are carrying audio and photo equipment, which makes things exponentially more difficult trying to navigate the crowd-control barricades.
-Vaughn Wallace, staff photographer
We knew we had arrived at a yinzer oasis in the middle of the bureaucratic desert, Capitol Hill!
Several Steelers fans were seen throughout the crowds at the concert. I was surprised to see that most carried Terrible Towels.
18.1.09
Steeler Nation
The Yinzers are taking over the country.
After the concert at the Lincoln Memorial (sorry, Donny Iris didn't play), Vaughn and I happened to follow a guy named Matt, who was wearing a Steelers jersey, straight into the displaced heart of Steelers country in D.C.
The Pour-house, a bar a few blocks east of the Capitol, calls itself the Official D.C. home of D.C. Steeler Nation.
Two hours before game time, it was standing room only. Almost every patron, save a guy wearing an Eagles shirt sitting alone, was dressed in black and gold.
The general manager of the Pourhouse, Andre, said the previous owners had been Pittsburghers, and their tradition of keeping it a Steeleers bar had stuck.
We got a warm reception when we said we were from Pitt -- most of the patrons we spoke to hailed from the South Hills or had Pitt connections as alumni or through family.
Most of them were regulars, too, coming hours before the game to get a seat every week during football season -- one guy who called a couch in a corner of the lower level said he had been going there for games for 10 years.
As weird as it was to stumble into home away from home, it was comforting to find this random pocket of Steelers fans amid the thousands swarming the Capital city.
The lack of Iron City on tap (The bartender said it was too expensive to bring in from Pittsburgh distributors, even though patrons requested it often) reminded us where we were -- in the middle of the other form of psycho fandom: Obamania.
[Check back later this week for a soundslide of the Pourhouse on game day]
-Katelyn Polantz
Opening Ceremonies, or, The Wildest Concert Ever
Photo Credit: Kevin Mazur/HBO
Wading through massive crowds and countless vendors at around noon, I knew I was close.
Sliding through the crowds towards the Lincoln Memorial, suddenly I saw a break in the pack and a welcome sign: "Press Entrance."
I broke from the crowded streets and chatted with a Brazilian radio-journalist operating out of D.C. on the way to the security check, where I embarrassingly continued to forget that I still had things in my pockets. It took about three times the norm to get through metal detectors.
To the side of the Memorial, a triangular spot was gated for press - closer to the stage then I'd ever imagined.
The scene was not unlike the end of "Star Wars" when Luke is given a medal in front of rows and rows of onlookers. Ironically, George Lucas was sitting about 200 feet in front of me. Whoa.
The mass of press folk battled a bit for prime real estate within the area; while my lack of a camera made me unfit for the fight to the front, my short stature made it easy to slip through to a fantastic view.
The mass of press folk battled a bit for prime real estate within the area; while my lack of a camera made me unfit for the fight to the front, my short stature made it easy to slip through to a fantastic view.
The set up was elaborate - a glass cube sat on stage right to house the Obamas, an orchestra pit towards the front, sliding scenery pillars and countless flags, all leading up the Memorial steps.
After an hour and a half waiting (I had it easy. One photographer cried in relief"I've been waiting for six hours!" as the ceremony began), the sliding pillars parted, revealing a regal set of military trumpeters. The orchestra played "Fanfare for the Common Man." This was the real deal.
Over the course of the next two hours, a collection of the best and brightest in Hollywood and Musicland spoke and performed in some brilliant collaborations.
Bruce Springsteen sang "The Rising" with only an acoustic guitar... and an entire chorus behind him.
Mary J. Blige sang a big band "Lean on Me."
James Taylor and John Legend crooned through "Shower the People."
Sheryl Crow and the everpresent will.i.am sang Bob Marley's "One Love."
And, most surprisingly of all, Garth Brooks downright kicked ass on "American Pie," evoking the most enthusiastic crowd reaction of the whole show. Seriously, Garth Brooks. Weird, but almost soothing; the heart of country-loving Middle America still beats loudly. And wears cowboy hats.
The performances were great, sure, but this wasn't about the music. It was about something bigger than that (and that's saying something. Very little is bigger than music), something that was in the air, in the words of each speaker, in the booming "OBAMA" chants of the massive crowd stretching from the Lincoln Memorial straight back to the Washington Monument.
The speakers, including Steve Carell, Tiger Woods, Tom Hanks, Queen Latifah, Jack Black, Samuel L. Jackson and Denzel Washington, often quoted famous Americans (President Lincoln, FDR and JFK showed up most often) in speeches that both added to the unbelievable nature of the event and grounded everyone in the reality of the present.
U2 played last, fittingly; the band, though Irish, has come to represent, for many Americans, the right for good to exist, and overcome evil. The band rocked "Pride (In the Name of Love)" and "City of Blinding Lights" in proper form.
Then it was time for the biggest rock star of all.
Obama spoke passionately, but realistically.
"I won't pretend that meeting any of these challenges will be easy," he said after listing America's ills.
"But what gives me the greatest hope of all...is you. You belive in what this country can be and you want to help us get there...You proved that people who love this country can change it, and there is no obstacle that can stand in the way of millions of voices calling for change."
Well said.
-Justin Jacobs
-Photo by Michael Heater
Quest for the Motorcade 2
Today the Lincoln Memorial played host to a massive public concert. Starting around 2pm, hundreds of thousands flocked down to the Mall and surrounding areas. I played it solo for the first part of the day and took the Metro to Farragut North (about a mile from the action). I came up the escalator from underground and was immediately inundated with vendors selling EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN. I'm sure I could've found Obama branded vegetables if I had looked hard enough.
Anyway, I got super lucky and caught a glimpse of Obama. As I passed the Blair house (where Obama is staying), I noticed that the Secret Service was queuing up and generally looking 'serious'. I pushed to the street and saw three limosines. The middle one contained Barack and Michelle. As I was photographing the motorcade, Barack pressed his face near the window and waved. I've seen Obama in person, but here he was, ten feet away! Right as I was about to take his photo through the glass, he looked in my direction and waved enthusiastically. Stupidly, I waved back instead of taking the picture. Before I recovered from my brush with 'fame', the motorcade had sped up.
Call me stupid, but when the President is really close to you and waves, you're going to wave back!
-Vaughn Wallace, staff photographer
Motorcade sighting #1
I spent most of the day trying to get from the Western side of D.C. to the Eastern side, meaning from Georgetown to the Capitol building. The bus ride took almost an hour.
As I waited to board the bus outside the Four Seasons Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue around 12:30 p.m., a government motorcade went past. (I'd like to think it was the President-elect and family, but who knows). More than 10 police cars, lights flashing and sirens wailing, flanked a few shiny blak SUVs with tinted windows. They raced through the intersection to Pennsylvania Avenue, stopping traffic.
People on the street, most walking toward the Lincoln Memorial where the opening ceremony was to be held later today, stopped to wave.
I fumbled for my camera, but no luck. In 20 seconds, the swarm of government vehicles were gone, rushing onto the events later in the day.
As brief a moment as it was, my close sighting of a VIP felt like an appropriate kick off for the week. The sirens and comotion screamed the announcement of the new president, that something important was to happen here soon.
-Katelyn Polantz
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