A student from Michigan tells you that she had lined up an internship with GOP Sen. Spencer Abraham, but since he lost re-election and is now secretary of energy designee, she is hoping to get a slot at the Department of Energy. The platform at the Capitol South station is jammed with people, who mumble as they bump and flow their way onto two stairwells and an escalator. You find yourself swelling with love for this country, not just for the Republicans reveling in their return to power, but perhaps more so for the kid who hands out the vegetarian brochures and the parents who voted for Al Gore but take their kids to the Capitol Mall because they want their children to witness history. Add the Massachusetts teacher who takes her eighth graders to Washington to have their own moment amid the transfer of power. You walk in search of the your ticket gate and find yourself smashed among other bodies waiting for police to tell them they can cross the street.
People have to wait, they say, until the buses move.
Twenty minutes later, police allow the irate throng to squeeze between the unmoved buses. Participants vie for a good spot to run through X-ray machines. He is indignant that he has to wait, even though it will be more than two hours before George W. Bush takes the oath of office. Now you are near the Capitol. You slide down a muddy path, past families who stand wet, cold, swathed in plastic and glad they arrived early enough to get to the front of their roped-off area.