January 25–February 1, 2001

cover story

Inaugural Bawl

Laughing boy: Elizabeth Croydon impersonates the new President at the Justice Action Movement’s counter-inauguration.

The theme for President Bush’s inaugural weekend was "Celebrating America’s Spirit Together." Easier said than done.

by Gwen Shaffer

photographs by Lexie Giarraputo

part 1 | part 2

While the Saturday morning sky is still dark and shrouded in fog, seven buses roll into Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station. They are headed for Washington, D.C.

Dozens of kids, most of them white, already dot the sidewalk just outside the station’s automatic glass doors. They wear nose rings and dreadlocks, partially hidden by knit caps. Other young people pace alongside the buses in baggy Army-issue pants, sucking on cigarettes. A splattering of gray-haired protesters shield their signs, hoping the steady drizzle won’t ruin them.

Less than an hour earlier, at 6 a.m., the pretty weather girl on television recited an equally gloomy weather forecast for Washington. Occasional rain mixed with snow and sleet during the afternoon, she informed viewers, pointing to computer-generated clouds. As the day progressed, the weather would turn even nippier and fog would cause visibility to decrease, she warned.

How right she was.

These demonstrators are waiting to travel to Bush’s inauguration.

The carefully chosen theme for the new president’s first official event is "Celebrating America’s Spirit Together." The sentiment is unintentionally ironic, given that nearly half — 42 percent — of all Americans reportedly disagree with the Supreme Court ruling that handed U.S. reign over to Bush, according to a CNN/USA Today /Gallup poll.

An estimated 100,000 people are expected to brave the elements and witness Bush’s swearing in, as well as to line the route along the historic inaugural parade. While many will rejoice in honor of the nation’s new Republican boy-king, others will be there to mourn a potentially royal disaster.

The buses organized by the Philadelphia office of the International Action Center (IAC) are scheduled to hit the road at 7 a.m. sharp, but their actual departure is closer to 8. Everyone is still groggy; no one on board stands up during the two-hour journey to make political speeches or rouse the troops for battle.

One guy, however, does announce that the IAC will have security and legal observers scattered throughout downtown Washington. He reads a phone number to call, should help be needed.

Earlier in the week, the IAC circulated an e-mail with additional advice.

The memo urges demonstrators to bring rain ponchos, "not just for rain or snow, but in the event the police use pepper spray or tear gas." The plastic will keep the "nasty stuff from soaking into your clothes."

Organizers also stress the importance of toting plenty of water. "When you can see your breath, what you’re really seeing is moisture leaving your body: It’s easier than you might think to get seriously dehydrated in cold weather."

But there is an additional reason they warn activists to carry "at least one liter of water" with them — for "rinsing eyes in the unlikely event of pepper-spraying."

The memo also suggests that people bring caffeine pills, such as No Doz, to "any protest where there’s a risk of arrest."

"It’s grim enough to wake up in jail. Who wants to go through caffeine withdrawal, as well?" organizers ask. And in the same vein, they urge demonstrators to bring a photocopy of their prescriptions or carry their meds in "original prescription bottles."

	Upstairs downstairs: Secret Service snipers look out for trouble while protesters gather below at the U.S. Treasury.

Toward the back of the bus, a middle-aged guy hawks copies of Revolutionary Worker, a paper published by the Revolutionary Communist Party. His sales technique consists of handing out unsolicited copies of the rag. And then — only after recipients stick it in backpacks and under seats — does he explain that copies cost $1. Too embarrassed to retrieve the now-crumpled papers, people cough up the cash.

Most folks on the bus say they are motivated to demonstrate at the presidential inaugural not so much because of George W. Bush’s policies, but because of how the election was decided.

"What the Supreme Court did was political," says David Dagney, 50. "There was no precedent in the law for it. Justices even wrote into their ruling that it applied only to the Bush-Gore election and not to any future elections."

Dagney, who also participated in protests during the Republican National Convention, is particularly concerned that Bush will move to privatize social security and chip away at Medicare benefits.

LeeAnn Ledebur is curled up in a seat about 10 rows behind Dagney. Her short hair is pushed off her face and held back with a red bandana. This 22-year-old says she, too, is unhappy with the outcome of the election. "I accept it, but I know I have to do more to prevent harmful legislation from being passed."

Talking with two friends in the back of the bus, Simone Allender says that while she finds Bush’s political agenda "abhorrent," that isn’t why she is demonstrating at his inauguration.

When Allender heard news reports about the ironclad security measures planned for the day, she felt compelled to come.

"Clearly, there is a growing fascism in the country," Allender, 34, asserts. "Through this past election, we can see what’s wrong with our system. The inauguration is a forum [to condemn] how we elect the president."

Allender’s friend, a 21-year-old named Adam, chimes in.

"The Electoral College has to go," he says. "The election was fixed by the Bush family and friends."

 

As the bus makes its way down I-95, thousands of Bush supporters are assembling on the National Mall for the swearing in of their new president. Some spectators dished out hundreds of dollars to sit in bleachers affording prime views.

The United States Marine Band serenades the nation’s new commander in chief. Kentucky Sen. Mitch McConnell, playing the role of master of ceremonies, welcomes the crowd.

McConnell is among the politicians who voted to impeach Clinton and fought to keep Hillary Rodham Clinton out of the Senate.

Now, despite his efforts, Sen. Clinton takes her place on the podium. A stoic Al Gore, Bush’s defeated political rival, performs his final ceremonial duty as outgoing vice president. Gore looks as though he can’t bolt town soon enough.

Tickets for seats in the section directly across from the stage went for $300 to $500.

Susan Agnolutto is chaperoning 10 Girl Scouts from Calvert County, MD. The troop volunteered to work as parade hosts, and the girls are working in the "expensive seats," Agnolutto says. The occupants of this section are given the title of "underwriters" for the inaugural weekend activities.

"We figure the section is three-quarters full," Agnolutto says, noting that rain probably convinced some ticket holders to stay in, sip champagne and watch the pomp on television.

After Bush places his hand on the Bible and takes the oath of office, he launches into his inaugural address. This is no time to risk creating more "Bush-isms" — the new president reads from a TelePrompTer, but also holds a paper copy of his prepared speech.

Circling helicopters, the whine of police sirens and the far-off clamor of protesters exiled to Pennsylvania Avenue serve as an eerie backdrop to Bush’s address.

In step with the "unity" theme of the weekend and other traditional inaugural addresses, Bush stresses that, in America, "everyone belongs."

"We are bound by ideals that move us beyond our backgrounds, lift us above our interests and teach us what it means to be citizens," he tells the world.

Following the current trend in politics, Bush invokes religion.

"…compassion is the work of a nation, not just a government. And some needs and hurts are so deep they will only respond to a mentor’s touch or a pastor’s prayer," he says.

Before Bush wraps up, he can’t resist taking a swing at the Clinton administration. Certainly, none of Bush’s supporters would forgive him if he failed to allude to the past eight years. After all, Gennifer Flowers, Whitewater, Paula Jones, Tibetan monks in saffron robes, Monica Lewinsky and grand jury investigations fueled their loathing of Clinton.

"America, at its best, is a place where personal responsibility is valued and expected," Bush says. "Encouraging responsibility is not a search for scapegoats, it is a call to conscience. And though it requires sacrifice, it brings a deeper fulfillment."

This is the message that resonates (or, as Bush himself prefers to say, "resignates") with this audience of Clinton-haters.

Afterwards, Bill Hayes, a personal injury lawyer from South Jersey, says he is thrilled to see government return to "Reaganesque values" and the idea of personal responsibility.

"Integrity — the ‘I’ word — is key," he says.

A few seconds later, Hayes wonders, "Did I mention that I have a personal injury law firm?" But his thoughts quickly return to Bush’s inauguration. The greatest moment of the day was watching Bill Clinton’s chopper take off, Hayes laughs.

"I took a picture of that…When Reagan left 12 years ago, his helicopter made two victory laps around the Capitol," he recalls. "Clinton’s departure gave new meaning to the phrase ‘Gone in 60 seconds.’ It was like a jet taking off!"

In reality, the Clintons took a motorcade to Andrews Air Force Base — a chopper ride was cancelled due to the rain. But that scenario wouldn’t give Hayes the finality he desires.

part 1 | part 2