The following was sent to me by my father - a friend sent it to him, but it was originally published at Daily Kos: on Oct. 29th. I wish I could write this well.
Inauguration Ball 2009
by Kenyada
Wed Oct 29, 2008 at 02:58:06 PM PST
I don't know, maybe it was one too many re-runs of The Twilight Zone; maybe it was one too many posts at 538. All I know is that one night I found myself in a huge ballroom, somewhere in the middle of Washington, D.C.
Guests began arriving early. There are no place cards and no name tags. Everyone knows everyone else here. Now, there's a grand foursome Malcolm and Betty Shabazz sharing laughs with Martin and Coretta Scott King. Looks like Hosea Williams refused the limo again, keeping it real. And my goodness; is that Rosa Parks out there on the dance floor with A. Phillip Randolph?
Seated at a nearby table, Frederick Douglass has a captive audience in W.E.B. DuBose and Fannie Lou Hamer, and Medgar Evers has just joined them. Marian Anderson was asked to sing tonight, but she only agreed to do it if accompanied by Marvin Gaye, John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix. Look, there's Harriet Tubman. No one knows how she arrived, but there she is. And my guess is that, when the time comes, no one will see her leave. There's Jackie Robinson swiftly making his way through the hall as the crowd parts like the Red Sea to the unmistakable sound of applause. "Run, Jackie, run!" Along the way he is embraced by Jessie Owens. Three beautiful young women arrive with their escorts - Schwerner, Goodman and Chaney. Ms. Viola Liuzzo flew in from Michigan, exclaiming, "I could not miss this."
Richard Pryor promised to be on his best behavior. "But I can't make any guarantees for Redd Foxx and Moms Mabley," he chuckled. Joe Louis just faked a quick jab to the chin of Jack Johnson, who smiled broadly while slipping it. We saw Billy Eckstine and Nat King Cole greet Luther Vandross. James Brown and Josh Gibson stopped at Walter Payton's table to say hello.
I spotted Congressman Adam Clayton Powell of Harlem having a lively political discussion with Eldredge Cleaver. Pearl Harbor WW II hero Dorey Miller shared a few thoughts with Crispus Attucks, a hero of the Revolutionary War. And there is Madam C.J. Walker talking with Marcus Garvey about exporting goods to Africa. General Benjamin O. Davis flew into Washington safely with an escort from the 99th Fighter Squadron - better known as The Tuskegee Airman.
At the table on the left are three formidable women - Shirley Chisholm, Sojourner Truth, and Barbara Jordan - gathered for a little girl-talk... about world politics.
As usual, all the science nerds seem to have gathered off in a corner, talking shop. There's Granville T. Woods and Lewis Latimer needling each other about whose inventions are better. Someone jokingly asked Benjamin Banneker if he had needed directions to Washington. And George Washington Carver was overheard asking, "What, no peanuts?"
Dualing bands? Anytime Duke Ellington and Count Basie get together, you know the place will be jumping. Tonight is special, of course, so we have Miles, Dizzy, and Satchmo sitting in on trumpet, with Coltrane, Cannonball, and Bird on sax. Everyone's attention is directed to the dance floor where Bill "Bojangles" Robinson is tap dancing. Right beside him is Sammy Davis Jr., doing his Bojangles routine. And behind his back, Gregory Hines is imitating them both. Applause and laughter abound!
The Hollywood contingent has just arrived from the Coast. Led by filmmaker Oscar Micheau, Paul Robeson, Canada Lee, and Hattie McDaniel, they find their way to their tables. Dorothy Dandridge, looking exquisite in gold lamé, is seen signaling to her husband, Harold Nicholas, who is standing on the floor with brother Fayard watching Gregory Hines dance. "Hold me back," quips Harold, "before I show that youngster how it's done." Much laughter! Then a sudden hush comes over the room.
The guests of honor have arrived.
The President and Mrs. Obama looked out across the enormous ballroom at all the historic faces. Very many smiles, precious few dry eyes. Someone shouted out, "You did it! You did it!" And Obama replied, "No sir, you did it; you all - each and every one of you - did it. Your guidance and encouragement; your hard work and perseverance..." Obama paused, perhaps holding back a tear.
"I look at your faces - your beautiful faces - and I am reminded that The White House was built by faces that looked just like yours. On October 3, 1792, the cornerstone of the White House was laid, and the foundations and main residence of The White House were built mostly by both enslaved and free African Americans and paid Europeans. In fact, most of the other construction work was performed by immigrants, many of whom had not yet become citizens. Much of the brick and plaster work was performed by Irish and Italian immigrants. The sandstone walls were built by Scottish immigrants. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that The White House is, ultimately, The People's House, with each President serving as its steward.
Since 1792 The People have trimmed its hedges, mowed its lawn, stood guard at the gate, cooked meals in the kitchen, and scrubbed its toilet bowls. But 216 years later, The People are taking it back!
"Today, Michelle and I usher in a new era. But while we and our family look toward the future with so much hope, we know that we must also acknowledge fully this milestone in our journey. We want to thank each and every one of you for all you have done to make this day possible. I stand here before you, humbled and in awe of your accomplishments and sacrifice, and I will dedicate my Presidency, in your honor, to the principles of peace, liberty and freedom.
If it ever appears that I'm forgetting that, I know I can count on you to remind me." Then he pointed to me near the stage... "Kenyada, isn't it time for you to wake up for work? Isn't it time for all of us to wake up and get to work?"
Suddenly I awake and sit up in bed with a knowing smile. My wife stirs and sleepily asks if I'm OK. "I've never been better," I replied, "Never better. It's gonna be a good day."
These are additions from the comment section of Daily Kos- all great in their way.
Alice Walker and Maya Angelou were greeting sisters like Shirley Chisholm and Marian Anderson. "There are so many strong women like you," one of them murmured. "You've kept the light on for so many others."
Ray Charles smiled his million-dollar smile over the keyboard.
I can see them too. White tux, black tux, glittering beaded dresses, rich gold brocade-Jackie Kennedy style. I can also smell rich French perfume mixed with pomade as each of them pass by, finally able to come in through the front door instead of making a quick dash through the kitchen or the back service entrance. Some tip, others stride-all not believing that they are the guests invited to stay and dance instead of the entertainment or a quick photo op.
"We can stay? All night and have dinner and dance? But one look at Obama says it all-they can stay and laugh and drink and talk and feel they belong-truly belong in the crowd.
Some unexpected guests show-Ron Brown, while disappointed its not Hillary, joins the political crowd to have a long chat. He's still gratified that because of his work with Clinton, Obama will have some experienced people to work with in Government. Malcolm X tiptoes in just to get a look at the Lincoln Bedroom and to look over the shoulders of Keith Ellison. He's proud, despite his skepticism, that a fellow convert has made it in Congress. He's also proud that despite all the efforts, Jordan was still crossed in a sense.
Then I too wake up.
Reverend James Cleveland humming to himself.
I don't feel no ways tired
I've come too far from where I started from.
Nobody told me that the road would be easy,
I don't believe He brought me this far to leave me.
Can you hear? Can you hear?
Two voices, not dueling, but joined in harmony. There's Mahalia Jackson and Clara Ward singing.
How I got over,
How I got over, my Lord
And my soul looked back and wondered
How I got over, my Lord
just listen
Don't miss the opportunity to shake hands with Thurgood Marshall - he's over there in the corner, quietly contemplating every move Frederick Douglass makes. ;)
Justice Marshall will be in the book version, along with some other glaring omissions, Admittedly, I wrote this out too quickly on a yellow legal pad (I write faster than I type) The words flooded through the pen to paper damp with tears. I know there are names that belong in this piece, and I hope that those now heavenly bodies will attribute the slight to my head and not my heart. (Kenyada)
A stirring performance from Nina Simone.
Langston and Zora setting pen to paper no doubt.
You missed the two lean, tuxedoed gentlemen who strode in, bathed in the light of hundreds of chandeliers, and more. John and Robert Kennedy made their way through the applauding room to the new President's table, each kissing the back of Michelle's hand, then clasping Barack Obama's hands, and bowing slightly, as the beaming new president humbly returns their gesture.
As the brothers slip off into the celebrating crowd, a tall shadow falls across the head table, and Barack turns to receive the large hand proferred by a man with thinning hair and a deceptively gentle Texas accent. "America has always been a place of new beginnings. Once again, we begin anew with you, Mr. President.", drawls Lyndon Johnson , who then steps aside to introduce a silver haired gentleman. "May I introduce Senator Albert Gore ." who adds "My son speaks highly of you in his prayers. Politics means nothing unless you arrive with your conscience intact."
In one corner, we see a cluster of Black faces, all in neatly presented uniforms - of every historic American epoch. Union Army blues; jaunty Army Air Corpsmen with their caps cocked to one side; a young man still in Viet Nam combat fatigues, wearing a helmet with a can of gun oil secured by a strap, just under the magic markered words "What's Going On?"; young men in desert camo. Ice cubes tinkle in their glasses as cigars are smoked, when they are suddenly stopped in mid-sentence by the approach of the grim black face of a man in ragged knee breeches. One of the group exclaims "Father!" and across the centuries they snap to a salute for the quiet man whose name tag reads Crispus Attucks .
A sweet voice with a ragged edge suddenly belts out. "I know you want to leave me, but I refuse to let you go!" sings Levi Stubbs , as Barack and Michelle walk hand in hand to the dance floor. They pause to shake hands with a natty, bespectacled old gent in a linen suit. "Enjoy your night, son. There's a ton of shit headed your way at a mile a minute!" says Harry S Truman , adding "May I introduce my boss?"
Harry steps aside to reveal an elegant elderly woman directing an antiquated wheelchair. A beaming Franklin D Roosevelt parks his cigarette holder and holds out his hand "Delighted, sir! Absolutely delighted!" Barack excuses himself from Michelle, and dances slowly and gently with Eleanor Roosevelt , and their quiet conversation continues. Meanwhile, a melifluous baritone asks Michelle "Madame, would you do me the honor?", and Michelle glides off to the dance floor with Paul Robeson .
When he wasn't dancing or holding court with women of varying ages, Ben Franklin commented that he had not seen such a diverse crowd "since my funeral, and I am certainly enjoying this occasion much more!" He then fell into conversation with Matthew Henson after paying their respects at President Obama's table.
Meanwhile, Malia and Sasha Obama are in the next room at the children's celebration, laughing and playing with their new friends: three little girls , dressed in their starched Sunday best, just as they were when they went off to Sunday school at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, so many long years ago.
The night glitters on, and for an evening, wounds are healed, tatters are sewn, optimism is unbridled. Like Cinderella eyeing the clock, the revelers know the harsh realities that will still be with us in the morning.
But tonight, our better angels dance.
