One last Inauguration Day story, this one from Charlotte:
I was a junior in college and that day happened to be the day my sorority was taking our annual composite photos.
All the girls were required to stop by the house at some point during the day to have their individual photo taken, an obligation most saw as simply an inconvenient interruption to their already busy days.
When I arrived, the place was complete chaos. The tv was tuned to the inauguration but garnered little attention as dozens of girls hustled in and out of the room. I bobbed and weaved through the crowd and somehow managed to get my picture taken in under fifteen minutes. Just as eager as everyone else to get back to my regularly scheduled programming for the day, I hurried to grab my things and head out the door.
Then, something stopped me. Just as I was headed out the door, I noticed the house had fallen silent. There was no idle chatter, no zipping of bags or slamming of doors. Even the sound of the photographer clicking away on his camera had ceased.
Every person in that house had stopped cold and turned their attention to the television. President Obama has begun his inaugural address. For the next twenty minutes, no one moved or said a word.
We all forgot about wherever it was we were hurrying off to. We lived in the moment. It felt good.
