Original Article: http://dartreview.com/archives/2005/01/31/tdr_behind_the_scenes_inauguration.php
Monday, January 31, 2005
Editor's Note: To cover the story behind the inauguration of President George W. Bush's second term, The Dartmouth Review sent intrepid Political Editor Michael J. Ellis to Washington, DC, where he rendezvoused with Editor Emeritus Alston B. Ramsay.
Washington was filled with several distinct types of people on Inauguration Day. The natives, who almost uniformly voted for Kerry, had a certain air of aloofness about them as they tried to ignore what was happening in front of them while simultaneously envisioning Kerry taking the oath of office. The Republicans who had flown into town were naturally a more upbeat crowd, but they seemed vaguely uncomfortable around the natives and stuck to traveling in packs of men in cowboy boots and women in pearls. The protesters, while few in number, seemed angrier than ever. While the usual panoply of anti-fur PETA activists, 'more trees, less Bush' stoners, and 'Free Mumia Abu-Jamal!' freaks were all out in force, 'Not My President' signs seemed to be the day's favorite.
Standing out rather conspicuously in our business suits, Alston and I met amid the sea of stern-looking security officers outside of the Capitol's security perimeter. While standing in line to pass through the security checkpoint, I was handed a pamphlet titled 'What the Hell!' by an amiable old man with Jews for Jesus. According to the pamphlet, not only is Hell made up of ordinary sinners ("that's everyone"), but I seem to be a likely candidate for the place unless I talk to Jesus.
The Swearing-In Ceremony: After passing unscathed through fire, brimstone, and several pat-downs from Secret Service men, we made our way to the Capitol grounds. We found our standing-room spots behind the seats of the Washington elite and settled in for the long wait. As befitting a day of national unity, boos and hissing greeted shots of John Kerry on the Jumbotrons that flanked the grandstand.
After an interminable number of patriotic tunes and introductions from obscure inaugural staffers, the Marine Band struck up "Hail to the Chief" and the President emerged from the Capitol.
Wearing one of his trademark pale blue ties, President Bush took the oath of office from a very frail-looking William Rehnquist and delivered his inaugural address. Referring to the "shipwreck of communism" and America's success in fighting the Cold War, Mr. Bush made it clear that America had entered a new era after September 11th and that the only by pursuing "the great objective of ending tyranny" could we be safe from future acts of terrorism.
Accidental Lunch with John Anderson: By the time the ceremony ended, we headed to Washington's bastion of Republicanism, the Capitol Hill Club, for a bite to eat before the parade. While the Club was rather busy in the inaugural lunch rush, the maître d' was able to seat us provided we shared our table with an elderly gentleman and his grandson. As we approached the table, the gentleman introduced his grandson, perhaps eight years old, as John B. Anderson III, but neglected to mention his own name. After a little prodding, he revealed that not only was he, too, named John Anderson, but he was the same John Anderson who served in Congress from Illinois, ran for President in 1980 as a Liberal Republican, and received almost 6 million votes. Now 81, he currently splits his time between Washington and Florida, where he teaches law at Nova University.
For a man who was a virtual pariah in his own party, he was remarkably cheery about having lunch in the heart of the party establishment. He did confess to us, though that he didn't much care for the President's inaugural address and that frankly, he hadn't voted for him either. Despite his relative obscurity, Anderson was quite optimistic about the prospects of his current pet issue, instant run-off voting. While Mr. Anderson chewed on his Cobb salad and explained to us to merits of a multi-party democracy, his grandson (who made it very clear that he would have rather dined at McDonald's if he had the choice) picked at a turkey sandwich and eventually gave up on the conversation entirely to wander around the restaurant.
Inaugural Parade and Ball: After concluding lunch with the Congressman, Alston and I attempted to run the security gauntlet blocking us from approaching Pennsylvania Avenue. Several detours and one close encounter with a mounted horse brigade later, we made it to our seats in the bleachers along the parade route. Very few protesters dared to show their faces along the way. Just a few cold-looking kids with shabby signs and the same hackneyed 'Bush Lied, People Died!' schlock braved the cold and snow. The President and his motorcade passed by, with enough Secret Service agents to invade a small country hanging off of the side of the car. We stayed around a bit longer to see some of the standard parade fare (men in kilts, high school marching bands, and silly-looking floats) before heading back to prepare for the ball that evening.
That evening, the real celebration began. Clad in a tuxedo and escorted by the daughter of one of the Powerline bloggers (all Dartmouth alumni, from the classes of 1971 and 1973), I made my way to the Washington Convention Center for the evening's festivities. On the way, a small band of PETA protesters informed us that fur was murder, but that didn't seem to deter the ladies wearing fur.
As it turns out, the real reason to go to an inaugural ball is so you can tell everyone that you're going to an inaugural ball and then proceed to boast about how many other party invitations you have to show off your Washington insider status. The inaugural balls themselves are actually rather mediocre. Sure, the President stops by for a few minutes, and that's exciting, but after that you realize that you and 6,000 other people are at a party with bad food, a cash bar, and a bunch of really white folks dancing to music you haven't heard since your Bar Mitzvah.
However, even with the cold weather, over-hyped parties, and overbearing security, there's no better way than the Inaugural to celebrate the accomplishments of the last four years and begin preparing for the next four.