Most of us can cite a handful of times when we knew that we were witnessing history.

Something unique. Something profound. A shift in the tectonic plates of society.

So it was on January 20, 2025.

There was a drawing for tickets to attend the presidential inauguration. I entered. I won.

No longer can I say that I never win anything. A few months prior I won a raffle at church. Then came the email telling me that I needed to make plans to get to Washington, D.C.

I was going to witness the inauguration of a president of the United States.

The nation’s capital had been a previous destination. More than once. But never for anything like this.

Tickets and travel plans were confirmed.. The day came to depart, and off we went.

I say we because there were others in the group who had also received tickets. We discussed our luck as we waited to board the plane for DC.

As we sat in the DFW Airport, an alert came over the television. The inauguration was being moved into the capitol because of weather. Only congress and other VIPs would be witnessing the swearing in ceremony.

Since I’m neither a member of congress or a VIP, suddenly, I was out. On my way to the inauguration, and I wasn’t going to see the inauguration.

I guess I could’ve just hopped another plane back home and thrown in the towel, but I didn’t. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.

The others in the group and myself decided there’d be options. At least, that was the hope.

And there were. Plenty of them.

I received an email to standby for further instructions. What else would I do? I was about to do a 2 1/2 hour plane ride. I was captive.

On the plane (I’m still amazed I can talk on a phone that isn’t yellow and attached to the kitchen wall, and certainly amazed that someone can send me instant messages while I’m at 35,000 feet), I received an email telling me there’d be a venue with large TV’s, and food where we could watch the president and vice president being sworn in.

After landing in the nation’s capital, there were lots of other events too. A Texas ball, with bands and other Southern folks. I even met a couple of the anchors from FOX News.

Pretty heady stuff for a fella from Ashdown, Arkansas.

The day of the inauguration, I took the Metro (the Washington, D.C. subway) from the hotel to the venue. The last time I’d ridden that subway it was quite new. It began operation in 1976.

I had reservations about how impactful watching the inauguration on a television would be. After all, I could’ve done that at home for a lot less of my money.

But as those of us who gathered to watch saw the proceedings begin, there was a palpable feeling in the room. I looked around. It wasn’t just me, it was all of us.

People were smiling. People were giddy. People were crying.

And this was before it even began.

After things really got underway, emotions kicked into high gear. Choirs sang. Preachers prayed. The new vice president took the oath.

The president raised his hand and said things were going to change. The old America would be back. The little man would be respected again. He said he’d protect us. He said America would be put first.

And we all knew that he meant it.

There were cheers. There were tears. Some of them were mine.

Later, I was interviewed by the media about what it had meant to me. I said what I mentioned earlier. That there are a handful of times in your life when you feel as if you are witnessing something amazing.

History.

I said that the U.S. landing on the moon and what happened on 9/11 were the only things for me that compared. I wasn’t on the moon and I wasn’t in New York when either of those things happened.

But I was in Washington, D.C. when the 47th president of the United States took the oath of office. And I was with a lot of other people who were also experiencing it.

We all were tired of feeling like second-class citizens. Tired of feeling like our leader didn’t hear us. Tired of feeling like our children were no longer safe.

And we all felt as if that changed. In an instant.

Everyone in the room shared that moment. We’ll carry the vividness of it with us for the rest of our lives. But it wasn’t just us. It was a majority.

I left the venue and walked to the curb to catch my transportation. Horns were honking. Patriotic music was blaring from street corners. People were waving flags. What we’d witnessed in the venue was everywhere.

It was like that all the way back to the hotel.

I’d never been more proud to be an American. I still am.

The opportunity God has given us to redeem ourselves as a country and as a people is truly a miracle. But some of the commitments the vice president and president made that day are ones to which we also must commit.

In 1976 when the Metro opened in Washington, patriotism was high. It was the nation’s 200th birthday. I felt it then when I rode the train. But it wasn’t anything like this.

There’s a rejuvenation that is shared by all ages, creeds, colors, and faiths. I know, not everyone shares this, but most of us do. And most of us is what it’s going to take to bring patriotism back and keep it here.

And just as the president has committed to put us first and do the things that must be done to return our country to dominance, I’ve made the same personal commitment.

If we all will make a commitment to turn back to our creator, work hard to serve our country, and be good to each other, there are no limits to how great America can be.

 

©2025 John Moore

John’s books, Puns for Groan People and Write of Passage: A Southerner’s View of Then and Now Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, are available on his website TheCountryWriter.com, where you can also send him a message.