Ronnie Polaneczky: Cold, crowds, traffic - none of it mattered

WE'VE BEEN warned since Barack Obama won the election that we would be insane to attend his swearing-in ceremony in Washington.

We have no strings to pull with friends or relatives, no one who lives near the Capitol and could provide easy access to the festivities. So we'd be among the millions streaming to the National Mall before sunrise to see President No. 44 vow to protect, uphold and defend the Constitution.

There would be traffic. Frigid weather. Long lines for the porta-potties.

Hell, we might not even make it onto - or off of - the D.C. Metro

We don't care. We want to be there, in person, for dawning hours of the Obama Era. And we'd also like to make absolutely sure that the Bush years are finally, blessedly, over.

And so, at 2:50 a.m., we head south on I-95: me; my husband, Noel; our 12-year-old daughter, Addie, and her 13-year-old friend Sophia.

4:30 a.m.: Clear roads all the way. What was everybody so worried about? At this rate, we'll make it to the Greenbelt terminus of the Metro's Green line by 5, park the car and hop aboard the train to L'Enfant station, just blocks from the mall. We already have our pre-ordered Obama-branded all-day Metro passes. So we're set!

5 a.m.: Sudden gridlock at the Greenbelt exit on the Capitol Beltway. An electronic sign declares Greenbelt filled and recommends College Park, the next stop, but traffic is tied up there, too. Are we going to have to leave the car at the mercy of the tow trucks? Instead, we backtrack and try entering the parking lot from a side road. Just four cars are in line ahead of us. Disaster averted!

5:10 a.m.: We're on the Metro! The mood is light but not party-like. Everyone on that train got up early to stand in the freezing cold. This is not a band of partiers. The partiers are still in bed.

5:45 a.m.: We join a widening river of humanity streaming out of L'Enfant station. Security is everywhere, but everyone's upbeat and focused: GET CLOSE. We snag a patch of lawn right under a JumboTron, near the Smithsonian Institution. Addie and Sophia pass out under blankets while Noel and I hunt for coffee and cocoa. It's beyond freezing. We fear hypothermia.

6:30 a.m.: Noel returns - coffee, no cocoa, but he does supply us with these chemical hand-and-foot warmers that hunters use. The crowd grows, but there's an upside: More bodies mean more warmth.

8:30. The JumboTrons buzz to life and broadcast a recording of Sunday night's concert on the mall. The crowd rises to its feet and stays upright for the entire thing. We stomp our feet to "Higher Ground." We wave our arms to "Shout!" We forget the cold for a moment.

An advisement warns us the mall is now closed. No one else can come in, and, if you leave, you won't be re-admitted. Not that you'd be able to find your family anyway. We pray our bladders hold.

10:30: The vibe here is wonderful. Not a party, not overly friendly, but something different - accommodating, nice, respectful. How so? When Bush's name is announced, there is silence. No boos. Weird for a man with an 80 percent disapproval rating. Maybe it really is a new day under Obama - civility reigns!

11:30: We've been on our feet for four hours, we can't feel our fingers, our legs and backs are stiff, but the excitement mounts as we hear Michelle Obama introduced along with those wonderful Obama children. In some ways it feels like

we're just watching a big TV with a huge crowd. But then we look down the mall and see the Capitol glinting in the sun and we remind ourselves that we're not watching a show - we're part of it.

Noon: Obama speaks. I see tears among the crowd, feel my own wet on my cheeks. It's momentous, to be part of this. I don't care about my aching feet or grumbling stomach. This is history. When do we get to witness it up this close?

1 p.m.: And then it's over. It will take us another another five hours to get to the Metro, and four hours more to drive home.

We're exhausted, hungry and giddy at how we've proved the naysayers wrong. This wasn't an insane thing to do to at all.

Addie and Sophia have held up like champs, and I really get that they were moved, as we were, to be part of something so big and important.

Stuck in traffic on the way back, I think, this wasn't just the best thing to do today.

It was the only thing. *

E-mail polaner@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2217. For recent columns:

http://go.philly.com/polaneczky. Read Ronnie's blog at http://go.philly.com/ronnieblog.