While many people continue to bask in the glow of last week’s inauguration, a cloud still looms over it for me. Like thousands of other Americans, I descended upon our nation’s capitol to witness history.
Blessed to be in possession of a “golden ticket,” for the purple section on the U.S. Capitol grounds. But, I never made it. Instead, I was stuck in the 3rd Street tunnel, with several hundred other ticket holders.
After walking around the gated perimeter near First Street, NW and Mitch Snyder Avenue, trying to negotiate an entrance, we realized the growing mob, which had formed an informal line, was not going to let additional squatters in.
There were no officials providing directions as to where the lines began or ended. No police or military presence monitoring the crowds. Just throngs of aimless ticket holders who didn’t know where to go.
Finally, we came upon a uniformed officer who ushered us into the 3rd Street tunnel, which we reluctantly entered – not believing we would be interred for four hours without any facilities, water, information or communication regarding what was taking place above ground with regard to movement of the line or the security and checkpoint process.
Bridge closures into the city didn’t apply to police, emergency, medical or other unidentifiable government vehicles that blared their sirens and flashed their lights as they drove into the city from the Virginia side of the tunnel while thousands of shivering onlookers, tried to protect their ears and keep warm.
Disappointment doesn’t begin to describe my experience or the emotions of anger and frustration that ran through my veins following this debacle.
The inaugural committee and Metropolitan Police Department were so overzealous about securing the Capitol and mall grounds they neglected the planning and logistics of pre-entry to the actual entrance.
And it’s now evident that hundreds more tickets were distributed than either there was room for on the Capitol grounds or that security was prepared to screen and direct onto the premises.
The District of Columbia already has a horrendous reputation, around the country, for its poor schools, crime and political corruption (twice-elected Mayor Marion Berry). Now it can add “Most likely to fail had this been an actual emergency” to the list of reasons why it’s not taken seriously by the rest of the country.
Had this been a concert, and we paid for our ticket, we would have due recourse to ask for a refund. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime, history-making event.
I used to live in Maryland, and Virginia, and I had nothing but favorable remarks for those who asked me about the District.
But this experience has greatly soured my impressions of the city, leaving little room, in my mind, for its redemption from the ineptitude of officials who made a mess out of what should have been a momentous historical occasion.
I won’t soon forget the horrific experience my friends and me had in the 3rd Street tunnel on Inauguration Day nor, if I can help it, will the world.
Jennifer E. Mabry is a writer living in Boulder. EDITOR’S NOTE: This is an online-only column and has not been edited.
