Standing with Obama

As an African-American man born in the 1960s, being in Washington, D.C. for this inauguration was something I had to do.

I had to be there for those who could not be there for themselves...

I was there for the great-grandmother I knew, who was born less than 35 years after the Civil War, and for her father whom I once met...

I was there for my grandmother and many women like her who experienced the hardships of a segregated 20th century, who lived simple lives but worked hard, day-by-day, to make each next day better for their children and grandchildren…

I was there for my mother and every mother who would ride a bus every day to and from her job in a nursing home for many years, but managed to finance a child’s higher education...

I was there for my father, who was not always there for me...

I was there for the white teenager who called me a name in 1976, and for all those who still use that word, without listening to themselves, only because they have nothing else to say...

I was there for the countless others who sought different lives, different ways to battle society’s ills, only to languish in the seemingly endless cycle of crime, incarceration, self-abuse and neglect. I stood there to help show them that taking the right path is never wrong...

I was there for men like my stepfather, whose prayers and gentle wisdom have been a quiet invocation, always a reminder of what could be, giving me and countless others the power, the strength and the glory to reach that spot on the mall by the Washington Monument, and to stand for four hours on a frigid Tuesday in January to finally see a face like ours facing us, bringing dignity and emotions beyond words...

I was honored to be there with him, with the Lincoln Memorial and the world at my back, as I faced the Capitol in the distance and calmly breathed a warming sigh of joy, relief, pride and eternal hope.

Welcoming Hope

It was a cold, cold day, but everyone who gathered to see and hear Barack Obama this weekend in downtown Baltimore had warmth in their hearts. The crowd of 40,000 seemed to be a representation of Baltimore - predominately black, but interspersed with white... beleaguered by economic and social ills, but proud of its past and filled with hope.

I rode on a bus with white college students headed to the event. I walked past many black men trying to make a buck by selling Obama souvenirs. I stood in line to go through the metal detectors with two young white girls. And at War Memorial Plaza, I stood there (for nearly two hours), flanked by an older black woman there by herself to my left, a white woman with her family to my right, and a younger white couple standing in front of me who gladly made room for a young black woman's little girl to stand next to them where she could see... It was Baltimore, at its best. It was young, old, black, white, middle class, poor, all standing together, creating warmth, united in spirit. It was hope.

When Barack came, he spoke of the support Baltimore him (60%), and he referred to history. He reminded us that when Washington burned in the War of 1812, it was the defenders of Baltimore who held back the British, the greatest Navy in the world, and provided inspiration for the Star-Spangled Banner.

While there were too many reminders of bad things this weekend (visible sharp-shooters on the roofs of several buildings, a huge police presence throughout a city that still has one of the nation's highest murder rates, and a conspicuously absent, recently indicted Mayor Sheila Dixon), there was much good...


The nation's first person of color to be elected President, stood on the steps of a memorial to a war fought by a segregated army, facing a Civil-War era City Hall building, and left on a train car where a person looking like him, not too many decades ago, could only be a porter.

Yes, it is a time of hope. Hope becoming reality before our eyes.

Baltimore Waits for Obamba

Thousands gather at Baltimore's War Memorial Plaza, across from City Hall, as President-Elect Barack Obama makes his way to speak, all part of an historic train ride from Philadelphia to Washington, DC.

Go, Ravens!

I am not known for being a big sports fan, but I will cheer for the home team... especially when they're winning. So, yes, I'm caught up in Ravens frenzy. At work, it's easy to do when the Towson office of Genesis HealthCare offers a jeans and jersey day, where you can wear jeans if you add a Ravens' jersey or anything with a Ravens logo.

We've had a jeans day last Friday before the Tennessee game, and coming up this Friday as the team heads to AFC championship game against the Steelers... This rare (You know I seldom look this athletic) cell phone photo of me was taken by a co-worker during a previous season, but I recently found it when transfering pics to my new Photobucket site, with plenty of other mobile phone pics. T*Mobile eliminated their album from direct web access a while back, so Photobucket is now my container for personal, random and raw pics -- usually taken by mobile phone. I'm still transfering tagging and organizing pics into folders, but look carefully and you'll also see some fuzzy nighttime images of the RCM&D building and the Towson courthouse aglow in purple lights.