Jen and I woke up very early on Inauguration day, Tuesday January 20, 2009. We were physically exhausted after being in the cold and coming home so late the night before, but it didn’t matter – we were excited. This was the much anticipated 01-20-09 – the last day of George W. Bush’s presidency. People had been selling various items with that date on them since at least 2005 when I first saw them. As the day went on, I kept looking at my watch, counting the hours remaining of our national nightmare. Of course, the end of the W presidency was only an item of secondary contemplation. We were excited that the presidency of Barack Obama would be beginning. We arrived at the metro station just before 6 am and the trains were crowded to a point I’ve never seen in America. We finally arrived at the stop to which we had been directed and exited the crowded station. Immediately, we saw that there were people everywhere, traveling in various directions. A carnival atmosphere prevailed. Many people were selling souvenirs, some were performing music and all around were the smiles of happy people waiting to witness history.
I had been given the opportunity to receive tickets for the inauguration from the campaign. I received two “Purple Section” standing tickets, along with directions and advice.
The doors were supposed to open at 8 or 9 depending on which was read – the email or the ticket itself. The program was to begin at 10:30 and we were told not to arrive any later than 9:30. We arrived in the vicinity of the purple gate just after 6:30am. Lines of people snaked in different directions. No one seemed to know where people were supposed to be going. Jen and took a bit of a short cut – rallying on my knowledge of the local map and we arrived near the gate. For a few minutes we thought we were in line. There were no signs, volunteers or police along the jammed street. We were just in back of dozens of others who were also standing in line, many with purple tickets in hand. Soon we heard second and third hand information that we were not in fact in the official purple line. We moved down half a block and finally saw two police officers. They kept repeating “Purple tickets – line up in the tunnel.” I asked again to verify that this was the case. “Anyone with purple tickets, go ahead,” we were told by the officers as they indicated for us to pass behind a barrier they were guarding. Jen and I proceeded into the tunnel, confident that we found the place where we were supposed to be waiting. At first the line in the tunnel seemed to be long, perhaps a hundred to two hundred people. But as we continued to walk past a bend in the tunnel, we realized that line stretched further than we could see. We walked and walked, seeing thousands of people waiting in line. We kept walking and actually arrived at the end of the line, which extended about 50 feet from the end of the other side of the tunnel. We could see people on the street level above us waiting in line as well. Some called down asking what line we were in. They were looking for the end of the blue section line. The weather was bitterly cold, about 18 degrees Fahrenheit. After an hour, the line had barely moved but it had lengthened, with thousands more people getting in line behind us. When we did get into the tunnel, the air circulation system kept a constant wind blowing, making it painfully cold. Many of the people in line had (like me) worked for the Obama campaign in some capacity. Others had made special trips to get remaining tickets from their members of congress. As we slowing inched forward in the tunnel, we saw no one of authority. There were no signs, volunteers or law enforcement officials at all.
(This is a picture by Jacquelyn Martin / Associated Press from the L.A. Times)
Occasionally, a police car, or some other emergency vehicle would come rushing though the tunnel sirens on. Hours passed and we kept very slowly creeping forward. Eventually we heard rumors that the purple gate was closed, but these were third and fourth-hand accounts and we dismissed them, figuring they were opening the gate for small numbers of people and then shutting it, admitting only a certain number at a time. The rumors continued to circulate. As we got close to the end of the tunnel, many people were trying to cut in line and they were booed at by hundreds. Most changed their minds and retreated to the end of the line. We made it out of the tunnel eventually, after 10:00am. People in the buildings above the street waved to us and displayed American flags and Obama rally signs. Many began to chant “Yes we can!”. People were happy to be out of the tunnel and moving forward. The group kept moving forward and then hit another line of people who were headed to the same gate from a perpendicular angle as we reached an intersection just in front of the gate. People were coming back from the gate and the whole intersection was a chaotic mess, with people moving in every direction. The people returning from the gate said that they had been told it was closed and that the section was full. We continued on, despite the news until we made it to the gate. There was only one lone police officer on the other side of the gate. We were going to inquire about what was going on, but he was already talking to several other people. We asked them what he has said. They told us that the gate was in fact closed but we could wait and if there were any openings, a few more people might get in. Many people, (including an older African-American man) were crying. People there were in great despair. From that location, the Capitol was visible, about 200 feet away, but from that angle, no one would be able to see any of the ceremony. There were no monitors or speakers in the area. We also knew that it would be impossible now to make it down to the National Mall to see the swearing-in ceremony. I was very upset and we started heading straight to Union Station, were we could get back on the metro and return to Tim’s house before the 2 million people-plus crowd began to disperse. Many vendors were talking as I and others retuning from the purple gate passed them. “Lots of upset people here. Don’t know why – it’s a happy day,” I heard one of them say to another vendor. This incident quickly became known as the “Purple Tunnel of Doom.” Just before we headed down to the metro station, Jen insisted that we go into the station itself. I really didn’t want to – but I am glad she insisted. Inside were two tiny TVs with barley any audio. A small crowd had gathered in front of them. We could barely see the screen, but there we were able to see Joe Biden and Barack Obama take their oaths of office. It was almost as good as seeing it in person. The excitement and happiness of the crowd was moving. “Been a long time comin’” said an African-American woman, as Obama took his oath. “Thank God” said a white man, “we have a new President.” With that shared moment in Union station, I felt much better. What really mattered was that Barack Obama was now our President and that the Bush era was over. I was happy . Besides, I thought, we can’t really be too upset, we were going to be attending an Inaugural Ball later that evening and we would see the new President then. Jen and I went down and took the Metro back. A few minutes later, we were back at Tim’s and we could hear the Inaugural address. Weary, Jen and laid down a took a nap before heading back to D.C. for the ball.
Read more about the Purple Tunnel of Doom at the L.A. Times, Politico, Huffingon Post and MSNBC.
I have joined the Facebook group "Survivors of the Purple Tunnel of Doom."
An investigation has been launched into this fiasco and Senate Sergeant-at-Arms Terry Gainer has been holding on-line discussions via the Facebook group and I have to say they have been very sympathetic and and trying to work out some sort of compensation - an event with President Obama etc. I have been very impressed with their attention and concern.
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