The Tunnel of Doom on 3rd Street

As the reality of the Inauguration has finally set in, I look back on Tuesday's events with sadness, disappointment, grief and frustration. You might be thinking, "Was I watching the same Presidential Inauguration as you?" Well not exactly, but I tried with every fiber in my being to make it happen. I have never traveled so far to achieve so little and felt so ignored, invisible and forgotten in my entire life, and yet the only solace I feel is the bonding I have had with hundreds of others that I met in DC that fateful day, in the cold and early morning of January 20th, 2009.

Yes, I was one of the thousands of purple ticket holders who survived, "The Tunnel of Doom on 3rd Street," as it would become known to those of us who suffered through the most disappointing day of our lives. It wasn't just that my mother, Kimberly Field, a life-long Democrat and political activist, was 60, and was finally going to be attending her first Presidential Inauguration of her life, even though she has worked on very Democratic Presidential Campaign since Bobby Kennedy. And it wasn't just the fact that we had scrimped and saved and paid over $1,500 in airline tickets and made arrangements with friends in the Baltimore area for lodging, and planned detailed travel and transportation arrangements months in advance. And it wasn't just the fact that I had registered hundreds of voters in the Van Nuys, CA area and been a political activist my entire life and waiting to finally have a leader and president that I could actually look up to and inspire me, and was looking forward to this Inauguration as the most important of my lifetime. Let me tell you, it was all these reasons and much, more more.

You must understand, my mother and I had planned since the day after the election in November that we must be part of history, must be part of this amazing day even though we didn't have actual Inauguration tickets. We booked our flights right away and decided we would just go to DC to be part of the masses and experience the most historic Inauguration of our lifetime, and being there in person was all that mattered. I was overjoyed when I found out six days before we left for DC that I was going to receive two purple tickets from a friend who had worked on Obama's campaign for the last year. I will never forget calling my mom and giving her the great news and telling her how close we were going to be (right behind the media and seated yellow section) and that we would actually be able to see Obama from our purple section. She was at work when I called her, yet tears filled her voice and she was speechless.

The night before the Inauguration my mother and I stayed up all night with my friend (who had also traveled from LA to be with us for the big day) and we thought we had pre-planned every step of the day. We had planned metro routes, streets closures, driving times, layers of clothes and a timeline for the day's events. Little did we know how that timeline would actually turn out to be.

I kept notes of the days events and here is the breakdown of events that we lived through that famous Inauguration day in freezing DC weather:

4AM-Leave Baltimore for DC by car (with three friends in tow, including my mother) We all had two layers of clothing on and purple tickets in hand and were full of excitement. We had maps, tickets, packed food and water, as we had heard we would be in line until 9am, when they were going to be opening the gates.

5AM-We enter the Metro Link from downtown DC to Judiciary Square (which was the actual train stop we were instructed to get off at, since we had Purple Tickets). Hundreds of people had already swarmed the metro stations, but we had planned ahead and bought metro tickets the night before. The energy was magnetic as everyone spoke of happiness and hope and amazement as they were about to witness one of the most important day of their lives.

5:30AM-We depart Metro Link train and walk half three blocks to the nearest crowd of Inaugural Volunteers who instructed us to go to the 3rd street, since we were Purple Ticket Holders. I noticed right away the lack of police, guards and volunteers, and there were thousands of people already lining up the streets, parking lots and surrounding areas, some with tickets and some without.

5:45AM-There were no signs, flags or directions posted anywhere in sight, and everyone was in disarray. After being instructed by an officer to go around the barricade and walk two streets up and come around the block again, we were told to get our purple tickets out, and there appeared a man dressed in dark and wearing a bright orange vest, (who we assumed was a volunteer), who asked to see our tickets. Once it was clear that we all had purple tickets, we were instructed to go into a tunnel straight ahead on 3rd street. There was a police barricade set-up in front of one of the tunnels, and they were instructing everyone to cross the street, single file.

6AM-Two more friends join us in line (from LA) who had also spent thousands of dollars to be there and had purple tickets. I make friends with a nice man, also in line, from New Jersey, named Andre.

7AM-The line we were in started from 1st street (just a block from the Capitol Building) and stretched for over a mile, filling up the entire 3rd street tunnel; there were an estimated 4,000 people behind us in this dark, cold tunnel. There were no outdoor restrooms, no food vendors, no beverage carts, or anything for miles and there were no Inaugural volunteers, police or guards still in sight. Although everyone in line was still peaceful at this point, people were growing tired, hungry and confused and wanted some direction.

8:30AM-Our line is growing defensive, and protective and we notice hundreds of people entering the tunnel who did not have tickets, but were streaming by in groups, and they were constantly trying to cut in front of us in our line. Anger started growing as we had to constantly kick people out of our line. When we asked them why they were in the tunnel, they said they had been instructed there.

9AM-Andre and I decide we are going to the front of the line to see if the gates were open and if they were letting anyone inside yet. We all knew the ceremony was starting promptly at 9AM and we were still stuck in a dark and cold tunnel with thousands of people, growing restless and worried that something was really, really wrong.

9:30AM-What I witnessed at the front of the purple ticket line, I will never forget as long as I live. There was a mob of what appeared to be over 1,000 people storming the barricade at the front of the purple gate. There were children, elderly and even several disabled people in wheelchairs being pushed, crushed and shoved around, and the organized line of actual purple ticket holders started yelling at the mob, saying things like, "We have been here since 4am," and "What are you doing, you don't even have tickets," and "Where are the police?" All this mob of pushing people would say is, "No Line, No Line!" I quickly noticed that this was only the barricade in front of us, not even the actual purple gate for entry. I pushed my way through the mob to climb up on a brick wall that faced 1st street and was so confused by what I saw. To my disbelief, I realized that the purple gate was actually a block up ahead on 1st street and was locked and there were no police, guards or volunteers in sight. I started asking random people around me what was going on, and they said that "the purple section was already full inside and that none of us were getting in."

Well, this couldn't be possible, I thought to myself. This must be a mistake! Andre and I got separated in the crowd, by a young man who had pulled my jacket off, trying to get ahead of me on the brick wall and was yelling at me to get out of his way and that he "didn't have a purple ticket but had scoped out the area the night before, and knew that he could get through another gate without a ticket, since he heard that security wasn't even checking anyone at the nearby silver gate (near the mall). In disbelief, the next thing I heard was a police car with his siren, pulling up behind me. Amazingly, the Reverend Jesse Jackson appeared in the back seat of the police car and people started mobbing the car, and all I could hear was that he had come down to check on the purple ticket holders and said "The Inaugural Ceremony must not continue until all ticket holders were inside." The police officers in the car assured him all ticket holders would get inside and they drove off through the 3rd street tunnel and took him back to the Inauguration ceremony.

10AM-Word is spreading around the line that we are probably not getting in and dozens of people start crying everywhere, some even walk out of the line to try and see where they could climb to, so they could at least hear the rest of the ceremony. We were all in disbelief together. There were ticket holders from the front of the line making their rounds through each section of the line telling us, "you may not get in people, the ceremony is half done at this point, our purple gate is still locked," and "we have no one up there to help us." At this point there were stories coming to the front of the line of people urinating on the walls, due to the lack of no restrooms anywhere and being trapped in this tunnel for hours.

11AM-As we had now been trapped waiting patiently for over six hours, and with the Inauguration almost completely over, we had lost any faith in our purple ticket meaning anything at this point. As I looked at my diabetic 60-year old mother who could barely stand anymore, I told her and my friend that we had to brave the cold and climb one of the fences to escape to at least a viewing area where we could try and find a nearby speaker or jumbotron TV to watch the rest of the ceremony. After climbing a chain link fence and asking two strangers to help lift my mother over the five foot fence, we made it to another fence surrounded by military police, where we were frisked twice by two male officers and told that we could go on to the sidewalk ahead. We quickly realized we were now half a mile away from the Capitol Building and could not even see it from this barricaded sidewalk. We ended up walking another two blocks to the Canadian Embassy on Pennsylvania Avenue and joined mobs and hundreds of people trying to get a glance, if even for a second, of the Inauguration ceremony on the outdoor, ten foot tall TV screen they had hanging on an outside fence. There were two sets of ten foot tall chain link fences between us and the atv, and a concrete wall blocking our view. This only added to our frustration after standing for six straight hours in a dark tunnel, and we all began to cry. If it wasn't for the outside speakers set up in front of the Canadian Embassy, we wouldn't have even heard the swearing-in of President Obama. So after six hours, freezing temperatures, climbing fences, no bathrooms and no food in sight, we ended up being able to hear the swearing-in part of the ceremony, but not actually see anything with our own eyes, except the mobs of people around us.

The worst part of my story is that with no direction, no police, no Inauguration volunteers, and no help in sight, we were all left in the dark tunnel on 3rd street with thousands of people who were trapped like animals behind a concrete barricade and locked fences over eight feet tall. I can't imagine treating an animal this way, let alone people. And for anyone who I meet that says, "Well honestly dear, you should just feel lucky you were there," this is my response to that. If you had waited your whole life for this moment and put endless dollars and volunteering hours into your efforts, only to find out that you would be directed and then trapped in a dark and cold tunnel while the rest of the world watches the Inauguration live on television, or millions who got to witness it in person, and this was going on two blocks away from you, well believe me, you would be upset too!

My goal is not to seek revenge. I just want answers. I want to know why Diane Feinstein, as the chair of the Inauguration, wasn't more prepared for this. I wan't to know why the purple gate was the only gate out of all of them that had zero police, guards, or volunteers. I want to know why the policeman in that car lied to Jesse Jackson. I want to know why the spokesperson for the US Capitol Police, Sgt. Kimberly Schneider, said in an email to the press that "certain ticket holders who hadn't been screened for the swearing-in ceremony, were rerouted to prevent crowd overflow that could pose a danger to public safety." Nothing could be farther from the truth. How do you explain over 240,000 tickets were issued by the Inaugural Committee for this event, and that the committee then gave the false impression that everyone got in, not just to Jesse Jackson, but to the media and the entire world watching?

I want to know why even when tears were streaming down my face, every Inaugural volunteer I found -- when we finally made it on foot to Pennsylvania Avenue -- didn't have any idea what happened. In fact all they would say is, "We just don't know what happened to the volunteers for the purple gate, we lost them, we just don't know what happened."

I want to know what happened, and over 4,000 people in that dark tunnel on that freezing cold DC morning -- who were trapped, then denied entry -- deserve to know what happened too. I don't care if it takes weeks, months, or years, the purple ticket holders will keep speaking up and demanding our voices be heard, until the truth finally comes out and we can avoid this nightmare from happening at any future Inaugurations.

It's as if the 3rd street tunnel didn't exist and we were one problem they could hide in a dark, cold place with no escape. Well we have escaped and our voices are being heard now, from the Washington Post to the Los Angeles Times, thousands of our voices are being released into the mainstream media and public.

I'm sure Obama would agree that this situation was very preventable, and I wonder if he knows just how bad it really was. With the recent investigation into this ticket matter, started by Diane Feinstein, I hope some resolution comes out of all this. I don't want Inauguration commemorative gear. I think a ticket to the 2012 Inauguration when Obama is re-elected, would be a nice start for the thousands of purple ticket holders, who's tickets meant absolutely nothing. Thank you Arianna for letting our voices be heard!

Comments

[cocopuff127]

Part 5-At that moment amidst all the unified voices, I knew my journey was complete, we had reached the promised land

By the time we got to the gate we were informed this entrance to the Mall is closed.. The crowd peacefully dispersed. As I picked up my feet to walk, they felt like bricks of cement. But I had to press forward. A sea of humanity flowed up and down the streets surrounding the national mall still cheering “Fired Up! Ready to go!” Flags waved back and forth, crowds cheered “Yes We Can” and Americans gleamed with pride because we knew we were witnessing the Uniting of America.

Upon arriving to our room, I took my shoes off my tired feet and propped them up on pillows in the bed. My mind began to wander and think about the feet of the hundreds of people who formed the Montgomery bus boycott who walked for miles so that what I just witnessed could happen. I thought about the March on Washington where MLK Jr. spoke the prophetic words of what I just experienced standing under the 3rd street tunnel with my fellow American citizens. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. We turned on CNN and began to watch the first African American to be sworn in as president of the United States of America. That day I know I witnessed history..

[cocopuff127]

4- Someone in the crowd pulls out an IPod with speakers and we hear “Michael Jackson’s “The Way You Make Me Feel.” Strangers began dancing with each other and singing in unison. I began to think about the story my father told be about serving in the military in the deep south. On the weekend, he tried to enter a dance club. Because of his race he was unable to enter to enjoy the music and dance with his fellow American citizens. Ironically, he and many others risked their lives in the Vietnam War to protect the same people that segregated them and made them feel, as Martin Luther King Jr. would say, like an “exile to their own land.”. In amazement I looked around at the crowd and I saw a true melting pot. Melting Pot, a term many used to be very offended by because of the obvious societal separations and segregation of differences that prohibited coalescence. But today the sweet aroma of the melting pot was manifested. It manifested in the raspy voice of a young woman in the crowd who began to sing “God Bless America, land that I love!” Every voice around me peacefully joined in this lovely chorus of proud American Voices.. "Stand beside her and guide her….” . Followed by My Country Tis of Thee sweet land of liberty of thee I sing, then finally The Star Spangled Banner!

[cocopuff127]

Part 3-
Like a utopia, this crowd of people obviously different in ethnicity, age, class, gender, religion, and partisanship stood together in unity, solidarity, peacefully and for one purpose. In amazement I stood watching Muslim people talking to Jewish and Christian people. Generations of bickering, prejudice, and war had deepened the chasm between these groups, but today they stood in solidarity. Blacks, Latinos, Asians, Indians, Native Americans, and Whites all stood together offering warmth and neighborly dialogue. Republicans talked to democrats and independents about their personal inspiration to be a part of this monumental occasion. My mind couldn’t help but wander to a time when Blacks standing in the same spot I was in, were sold as property. Not even thought of as human. Property that would be used to build the very house that President Obama and his beautiful family would be living. If only the slaves knew that this day would come, they would have been filled with pride and hopeful about the future.

[cocopuff127]

Part 2-
The voyage to the National Mall represented a gathering of giants who in solidarity cry out for people living in poverty, mourn for the martyrs who gave their life for freedom, yearn for global peace yet respect the service men who fight for our safety, people who are willing to do all they can to make America live up to its promise in our declaration of independence that “All men are created equal and that they are endowed by their creator to certain unalienable rights, that among these life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Our presence alone represented the breaking down of barriers so that history will never repeat itself and our children and grandchildren will inherit a unified nation where justice, peace, prosperity, and tranquility avail.
As I walked down the street I saw military hummers and camouflaged uniformed officers dutifully guarding the streets of invigorated American citizens with one purpose and one focus chanting in unison, “Yes We Can!” Ignoring the frigidity of the January air and breeze felt from the Potomac River, we chanted “Fired up! Ready to go!” as we continued our journey. At 4:15a.m., we entered our destination. Two parallel crowds separated only by a road, patiently waited under a concrete tunnel to enter and be a part of the inauguration. We joined the line behind at least a thousand people.

[cocopuff127]

My interpretation was much different. Read about mine......
“Fired up!” I exclaimed after hearing the hotel wake up call at 2:30 am.
“Ready to go!” my brother answered as he jumped out of bed and readied himself for the day. After quickly layering up with long johns, double socks, double scarves, and finishing off with our Obama pin on the lapel of our coats, we were out of the revolving doors of the Washington Hilton in no time. Twenty-degree air whisked at our faces as we entered the corner of 19th and Connecticut Avenue headed directly to the National Mall. At 3:00 am the streets looked like 3:00pm with numerous pedestrians, limos, cars, and lights. United streams of people, all decked out in Obama hats, scarves, pins, and even Obama pants, headed in the direction of change. Analogous to the Hajj…voyage to Mecca, people from across the country and the world journeyed to the National Mall as a once in a lifetime representation to the solidarity of American people. This journey represented so much more than going to a place where a ceremony would take place. As an African American female, it was the place where excuses stop, the place where the bigotry and hatred ended, the place where differences didn’t matter, and the place where the impossible was possible. Our leader Barack Obama was the catalyst for this moment, but he ignited and awoke sleeping giants.

[mstoddard]

Thank you for your well written post. I was a purple ticket holder who traveled from Tacoma, WA to attend the swearing in. I stood in the Third Street tunnel for over four hours, then walked to the gate. Thank God we all escaped unscathed.

[IllinoisTexan43]

There was a huge dearth of volunteers/guides for a crowd that size. It seemed as if no one was in charge. Whenever we asked the few volunteers where to go or what to do, no one ever had an answer. We finally made it out on the mall next to a jumbotron. Not the best experience, but well worth it.

[lpaigeg]

Keely,
My heart goes out to you, and you are right, you should get front row seats to the 2012 Inauguration. I may have been one of the non-ticket holders who pushed my way through, I'm not sure, I don't really know what route we took. But I do remember passing several very, very, long lines, and thinking, "I'm glad I'm not a ticket holder." I made it to the Mall at 8:30am somewhere between 9th and 12th Street, with my 67 yr old friend. But not having slept all night, and not seeing any port-o-potties nearby, we decided to go back to the train station. That was around 10:00am. About 2 minutes after leaving I started feeling sooooooo aweful. To come all this way! (I'm from CT). To be there and not be able to stay! I felt pretty dissappointed all the way up until the next day, when I realized, "Hey, at least I was there." That's not in any way to minimize your experience, which was horrendous. I hope you get justice.

[DCdarling]

Imagine being a DC resident and putting up with the preparations for weeks ahead of time - trial runs of metro delays, etc... It was rough, but we all put up with it and understood that it was the price we pay for living in DC. That's the reality of a popular President and being in the midst of all the excitement - things can go wrong.

I (sort of) feel bad for those unable to get in, but didn't everyone sort of expect that things could maybe go wrong? Were there not reports on CNN every hour on the crowds descending upon DC? Didn't all newspapers have projections of cell phones not working/crowded streets/long lines? If you wanted a 100% sure-fire viewing, you should have stayed in your home and watched it on tv.

[seatea1967]

It doesn't make it right, nor help you erase the memory of your ordeal, however this is all very understandable. Nothing of this scale had ever been done in Washington. The amount of people was far beyond what they had ever managed successfully.

We all heard the horror stories in the weeks leading up to the inauguration. There would be record crowds, huge delays, no porta-potties, giant lines for security, etc. You gambled, you went anyway. Unfortunately there is no dress-rehearsal for such things and some giant tragic errors were made. You were on the receiving end of one some of that, and it doesn't make your ordeal any less horrible.

However, it was nearly inevitable that such a thing was going to happen. We were told for weeks it would be a nightmare. The fact that nobody died or was crushed, the fact that no bombs went off and nobody was shot by a sniper, etc. says to me that under the circumstances things went relatively well.

It's probably futile to argue that one needs to keep your experience in perspective given the frankly unmanageable task of managing such an event... but the fact remains that such perspective must be considered if you truly want to know "WHY?".

[keelygirl]

Sorry, I meant the underground tunnel train. I thought it was called the metro train. but forgive me, as we have no transportation system in LA, so I am not used to ever being on one til DC.

[caphillprof]

DC has no Metro Link

[Jim Fairbrother]

This is all George Bush's fault.

And anything else goes wrong from now to 2020 will also be his fault,
but, if anything goes right, which I doubt, it's the sole doing of the Messiah.

[MikeLicht]

The Nation's Capital will celebrate the effective, efficient security measures of the recent Inauguration festivities at the National Bollard Festival.

See http://notionscapital.wordpress.com/2009/01/25/celebrate-inaugural-security/

[FearlessFreep]

While you're at it, ask why the committee chose not to air Bishop Robinson' pre-concert prayer.

[badmama3]

Wow, I never knew the Rev. Jesse Jackson came to check on the purple ticket holders. So that is some evidence that at least someone was aware of the problem, at a time when it would still have been possible to rectify the situation. I, too, had purple tickets. I agree that the scene was utter chaos, and I just can't adequately express my disappointment. Like you, and many others, I spent a small fortune to be in D.C. for the inauguration, stayed up late the night before laying out clothes and planning routes, and somehow managed to miss the entire thing. I had to go home to the hotel that night to find out what President Obama had said. I what I had anticipated to be one of the most amazing days of my life, turned out to be one of the worst.