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On Jan. 20, 2009 Washington, D.C. had its most extraordinary day of racial harmony EVER as people tried to get to the Inauguration. It was completely different from the agitated passion of the civil rights and antiwar demonstrations of the 1960s, where our solidarity was revved up and fused by violent opposing forces. This time it was only one mass of freezing but elated people flowing out of the subway stations in one direction: the street behind the Rayburn House Office Building, where we expected to get to the Blue Ticket standing room area in sight of the Capitol. Older people in walkers and wheelchairs, little children completely swaddled in winter wraps, and fancy Texans in his-and-hers Nieman Marcus mink cocoons, jammed into youths in hoodies, blankets and do-rags. The proximity helped to block a little of the freezing wind. People were full of courtesy and happiness, a common sense of relief, pride and expectation. They did not complain, except for a few who gasped "No pushing!" to keep from being pressed to death. Some had traveled all night, and even many days, to get here. Along the way, crammed subway cars passed overcrowded platforms. The crowd stumbled into street folk hawking glittery pins, hats and posters. Directional volunteers were full of joy and advice but disappeared as the flow neared the Rayburn building. Everyone converged into one chaotic wave, crushing against metal barriers, still far short of the security checkpoint. There we stood for two hours, unable to move in any direction. There were no officials or leaders of any kind to sort things out. Those few who finally gave up, even though they had tickets, negotiated some way to go backwards out of the crowd looking for an open subway station to travel anywhere to watch it on TV. Dense clusters of people blocked the stations, trying to leave, where a few straggling police and military officers gave out conflicting information that the station was closed but the one many blocks away might not be. Still people flooded out of the subway stations into the jammed streets. There was nowhere left for them to be. With just 10 minutes to go before the ceremony would begin, the Blue Ticket crowd was still nowhere near Obama or the actual viewing areas on the Mall or even the security checkpoint to get to those already filled places. They had no Jumbotrons or even radios. But they were there together, and they could tell their grandchildren's grandchildren that they were there, and that would be enough.