By Chase Weldon
CHICAGO — I walked swiftly through the doors of the Reynolds Club. I already knew I was late. As I entered Mandel Hall, a petite lady with blonde hair greeted me with a warm smile.
“You’re just in time. We’re almost at our capacity,” she said. I smiled and looked around the auditorium. Everyone’s attention was focused on the giant screen in the center of the room. Every seat was filled. The audience was silent, but the energy in the room was overwhelming. “You might want to try the balcony,” she said as she pointed upward.
“Thanks,” I said as I walked quickly towards the steps. “Hurry up Chase,” I told myself as I sprinted up the stairs. I looked around and observed that every seat was taken. “Whatever,” I thought. I took off my hat, backpack, and jacket and tossed them on the ground beside me. I walked towards the front of the balcony to stand next to a tall guy with curly brown hair. I took my glasses out of their case and put them on. A crystal clear image of Aretha Franklin dressed in all grey with an audacious star studded bow hat appeared before my eyes. Laughs echoed around the audience but quickly ceased when Aretha began to sing a soulful rendition of “My Country Tis’ of Thee.”
I couldn’t help but to think of my grandmother who had recently passed. She would always insist that “nobody can put the soul in a song like Aretha.” I smiled and realized that, for the first time in my life, I actually felt connected to the President. As I watched the Obamas stand in the crowd, taking in the soulful melodies of Aretha, it was as if I was watching members of my family. This feeling was unexpected, but it was very soothing. I beamed with pride.
The audience cheerfully applauded for Aretha as she left the stage, and Joe Biden began to rise and walk towards the front of the stage. The room fell silent.
“Barack Obama,” the innocent voice of a young child yelled. I couldn’t help but to laugh as many of the attendees seemed to agree that the child was funny. Jill Biden beamed as she watched Joe repeat after Associate Justice John Paul Stevens.
“So help me God,” Biden repeated. The crowd erupted in cheers as Biden began kissing his children on the cheek. After spending all summer mesmerized by the guy people were saying “really” had a shot at becoming the first African American president, the thing only years ago people would have never dreamed of occurring, was finally coming into fruition.
I watched the screen as a group of musicians appeared on the screen. When I heard the name Yo-Yo Ma, my face lit up. I had been a huge fan of his since my senior year of high school, when I turned to classical music to help ease the stress of the college admissions process. He was joined on the stage by Itzhak Perlman on the violin, Gabriela Montero on the piano, and Anthony McGill on the clarinet.
Perlman moved his bow back and forth over his violin to produce a sound that absorbed negative energy and showered you with feelings of hope and positivity. When Yo-Yo Ma joins him in the composition, followed by the beautiful sounds of the clarinet and the piano, it created a mellifluous sound that exuded peace and tranquility.
My mind drifted off to a moment during my freshman year of high school:
“Dad, do you think a black man will ever be president?” I asked my father as he sat reading in the living room.
“That’s a good question, son. You know, Chase, America has come a long way, but honestly, I don’t think America is quite ready for that yet,” he said as he continued reading his book.
“Well, what do you think it would take for a black man to get elected president?” I asked my father.
“Chase, for a black man to get elected president of the United States, he is going to have to walk on water,” my father said as we both began to laugh.
“What do you think it would take for a black man to be elected president?” my father said, directing my question back at me as he customarily did.
“Well, I think the person is going to need to be someone who is of mixed black and white heritage,” I said.
“And why do you say that?” my father asked with an inquisitive look on his face.
“Well, because that way he would be able to connect with both white and black people,” I said.
“You make a good point son. Maybe it will happen in your lifetime,” my father said as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Maybe it will,” I said.
My mind returned to the present. When I think back to the time my dad and I had that conversation, I knew deep down neither one of us really thought that we would see a black man become the president of the United States in our lifetimes. It just didn’t seem possible. And, at that time, I had no idea who Barack Obama even was.
Ring. Ring. “Hello.”
“Hey, Chase, are you watching?” my mom said in a cheerful voice. I could hear my dad yelling Obama in the background.
“Yeah, I’m watching mom,” I said with a smile on my face.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were watching,” she said. “This is so exciting. I feel like I’m watching a family member become the president,” my mom said as I could sense the honesty in her voice.
“Same here, mom,” I said while people began to cheer as the music faded. “It’s about to happen, mom, so I’ll call you after it’s over, OK.”
“OK, Chase, I love you,” my mom said.
“We love you, son,” my dad shouted in the background.
“I love you guys too. I’ll call later.”
“Alright, talk to you later.”
People began to cheer as Obama made his way towards the front of the stage on screen. The time had finally come. History was about to be made. Chief Justice John Roberts began, “Are you prepared to take the oath, Senator?”
“I am,” Obama responded.
“I, Barack Hussein Obama…”
“I, Barack,” Obama said.
“Do solemnly swear,” Roberts continued before Obama could finish.
“You’re a little ahead Barack, but it’s OK, you have it,” I thought as I nervously watched him utter each word.
“I, Barack Hussein Obama do solemnly swear.”
“That I will execute the office of the President to the United States faithfully,” Roberts said.
“That I will execute faithfully,” Obama said pausing. I couldn’t even remember what the Chief Justice had just said, and I didn’t have the pressure of the world watching me. Obama gave Roberts a look as to say, “You’re going to have to give me that one more time.” My heart skipped a beat because I could already see the anchors on FOX News blowing the situation out of proportion.
“At least we know he’s human,” I heard someone in the audience say. The crowd gave out a slight chuckle, and that calmed the butterflies in my stomach. Roberts continued.
“So help me God,” Roberts said.
“So help me God.” The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Barack Obama officially became the 44th President of the United States. I stood still among the cheers, attempting to soak all of it in. I watched the screen as Obama took his place behind the podium to give his inauguration speech.
In likeness to legendary blues singer Etta James’ song, “All I Could Do Was Cry,” all I could do was smile.
