JANET ELFANT

Before I was a mother, I travelled light. For twenty some years, I have packed for every conceivable emergency especially since my daughter, Hannah, had just recovered from two bouts of the most virulent long lasting stomach virus that I have ever witnessed. My husband, John, called me at work on Monday night to tell me that Hannah was again having some stomach trouble. I stopped at CVS on the way home and bought every conceivable medication for every conceivable stomach ailment and placed them with all the first aid supplies on the already filled dining room table.

Exhausted, I set the alarm for 3:15a.m. and went to bed. Armed with a cup of strong coffee, I then, in the middle of the night, began stuffing supplies into my backpack, deciding which few essentials would go into the waist-pack sized to meet the requirements through security and into the mall.

As I ran out to the car at 10 minutes to five and realized that I would have to scrape the ice off the windshield to drive to pick up Sophia, Hannah's friend (both fourteen-years-olds which is not the optimal age to take your mother seriously), I again wondered about the wisdom of being the sole adult responsible for these two. I have not been to Washington, D.C. since I was a child, I have no sense of direction and am incredibly bad at reading even the simplest of maps. I WILL NOT ALLLOW OURSELVES TO GET SEPARATED FROM OUR GROUP.

We picked up Sophia, the tension and worry being completely broken by seeing Sophia come out with a pink striped bag from Victoria Secrets which was the only thing she had that fit the required dimensions. I laughed about that bag on and off all day. The High Point Cafe was bursting with wonderful smells of coffee and pastry and people arriving with their essentials. Dylan coming down the street with two bed pillows and a bed quilt. Everything fell into place as Meg's care took over. We boarded a very comfy bus and most of us went back to sleep. To all of our amazement there were no traffic delays. At about 6:30a.m. we were greeted with one of the most beautiful sun rises that I have ever seen. It's a new day. I took several pictures and then gave the C.D. of songs dedicated to Obama's election to the bus driver which he played as people woke-up and we completed the drive into the city.

I forced Hannah and Sophia to use the bus's bathroom. They rolled their eyes at each other as they made their way down the aisle.

Meg handed out flags which ended up saving us at several crunch areas, maps, cell phone numbers,and then opened the luggage container of the bus to cases of water and a wonderful array of healthy snack foods which we loaded into our allowed containers. Off we went.

I don't know about anyone else, but I did not feel the bitter cold. Here we were...for the first time celebrating the inauguration of a president with integrity...wherever we ended up...no matter how close or how far from the mall...we were in the city, we were on the same ground where Barrack Obama, the first multi-racial president, would take his oath of office...for the first time, for many of us, we could feel proud to be an American. And we knew the whole world was celebrating with us. It was a new day.

We quickly scanned the possible access areas to the mall, circling back and forth while waving our flags to keep together. Hannah announced that she had to use the bathroom. My irritation quickly gave way to concern as with every pause in our groups' movement I ran into buildings, restaurants (all with signs advertising the fact that their bathrooms were "out of order") and buses, requesting the use of the bathroom. At one point, I entered a silver laid out formal tea and explained the situation. I was told there were no bathrooms. My frustration got the best of me and I told the woman that Obama would not approve. Through one crunch of humanity, my shoe lace came untied. With one hand on Hannah and one on Sophia, I asked Dylan, who was waving the flag while perched on a window grate to please tie my lace. I knew that in that kind of crowd one wrong step could bring a person down.

So while looking for a bathroom, Sophia, Hannah, and I finally got separated from our group. We tried one last crunch scene to enter the mall but by then it was 11:20a.m. and some people were getting aggressive about getting through the gates. I would not let go on my hold of both girls. The three of us agreed to go back to the gates next to the Canadian Embassy where at least we could hear over the monitors and not be squashed. There we heard our new president deliver his address to the American people.

There are no words and every word to describe that half hour.

By then we were frozen and decided to head back to the bus. Directions from people on the street made it sound easy, about fourteen blocks in one straight line. Four ambulances passed and a number of official cars. I worried about what had happened. We did not find out for several hours about Ted Kennedy.

Outside a warm deli, we met up with some bus mates. That was reassuring as they confirmed our directions so the girls and I went inside for hot chocolate and coffee. (Still no bathroom)

Out on the street again the wind picked up and we had our first of several bouts of hysterical laughter when I mistook an indoor planter inside a glass building for an outdoor trash can which we were in need of having accumulated cups and snack trash that we were tired of carrying. It was well over an hour's walk to the bus with Sophia as our navigator. The temperature had dropped, the wind had picked up and we were having trouble talking because our checks had swollen with the cold. But we reached the bus, which was overheated, we all used the bathroom, we ate our sandwiches, and we began to take in the reality of the day.

The sunset was brilliant. Again I took a picture. I passed around a small tape recorder and asked whoever felt up to it to tell their stories of the day. Many of us fell asleep. Some of us talked quietly. Some of us called family and friends. We were a witness to a moment in history, never to be repeated. The impact is still floating around in my consciousness.

We ended the day with a wonderful dinner together and a leave taking that felt as if we were forever bound. So the tape. The first fifteen minutes of the tape is filled with hysterical laughter about the giant spiders waiting for us in Washington along with a playing with the speed button so that one minute the girls sound like the three chipmunks and the next minute like theeeeyyyy arrrrreeee aaattt ttthhhhee boooottttooommm oooffff thhhhheee sseeeeeaaaa. But we do have a few stories from a couple who ended up at a gay sports bar and Bill and his sons who meandered their way into a senators' building and watched the inauguration in warmth and comfort on a big screen T.V.

This is my story of THE DAY.