Tuesday

The closest thing I've experienced to last Tuesday was when the Beavers played the Ducks in 2001. I was writing for the OSU student newspaper, The Daily Barometer, and had been covering the football team all year. One of the biggest thrills of my life is covering that team--the best team OSU has ever put on the football field--and watching them go nearly undefeated and beat Notre Dame in the Fiesta Bowl. The Ducks, however, were very good that year. It was Joey Harrington's junior year, and they'd go on to win the Fiesta Bowl the following season. But they had a chance to knock us out of a BCS game that year, and I was very nervous even though I knew we had the superior team. It was a bright, cold day, and I recall walking over, through campus, with my fellow sports writers and absorbing the excitement as fans, alumni, and students swarmed campus, barbecued, tailgated, played touch football, and heckled Ducks fans.

The excitement was tangible that day. As Beavers fans, this was a benighted group who had endured many years of futility, but who also knew, I think, that their team was going to win--not only that, but we were going to beat the Ducks. We finally did, but my heart was in my throat the entire game, and I wasn't allowed to release any of my emotions because I had to sit in the press box the entire game. By the time I had written my story after the game, it was late and I walked home through that beautiful campus, and my roommates and I celebrated.

It wasn't a crazy celebration like I thought it would be, though. We mostly just sat there with smiles and drank some beers. It was one of the best days of my life.

Tuesday was eerily similar. I've known with quite a bit of certainty that Obama was going to win (I also predicted the relatively early call, which meant landslide). One thing the primary campaign taught me was that poll numbers, taken as a whole, are a very good indication of trends, and the poll numbers were very clear. Nevertheless, we hadn't won yet and it was a very nervous day. I was able to reach home by about 2 p.m., and flipped between CNN and MSNBC basically until about 10 p.m. When he won Pennsylvania, Obama's prospects were good, but when he won Ohio, I knew it was over, grabbed a bottle of champagne, popped it open, and toasted myself to victory. It was sweet. For some reason the networks didn't call the race after Ohio went Obama, even though they should have because the math was literally impossible for McCain after that. So, I stuck around with Michele, Ada, and my mother-in-law until the official announcement. Watching the celebration in Chicago made me want to be there in the worst way.

One of my favorite images of the night was when NBC showed Jesse Jackson in the audience. I'm not a huge fan of his--mostly because I think he's a shameless grandstander--but to see him so obviously emotional, with tears streaming down his face, almost as if he could not believe what he was seeing, that really affected me. It affected me mostly because there's so many people out there for whom history is a memory, whereas for me it is only something I've read about in books. I'm truly happiest for people like Jackson, and others like John Lewis, who was being interviewed throughout the night, because they lived the civil rights movement, they were there when King was shot, they've experienced the heartache of discrimination and prejudice. To see them rejoice was my favorite part of the night. I don't know how anyone cannot be affected by that. No matter what you think about Obama, the fact that a black man is president is truly astonishing and worthy of at least a few moments of respect for his accomplishment, and for all the folks who paid the hefty price for that accomplishment.

I felt celebratory, and since Michele had company, she encouraged me to go down and meet some friends at Club Congress, in downtown Tucson. Actually, they were her co-workers and ex-co-workers whom I have become good friends with. I didn't want to miss Obama's acceptance speech, so I hopped in the car and rushed down to Congress after McCain's very gracious concession. I got there just in time to see a group of about a few hundred people watching Obama on the bigscreen, and listening to his voice over the loudspeaker.

The crowd assembled was truly joyous--and I immediately remembered that day in Corvallis when the spirit of goodwill and community was so strong--and I watched President Obama deliver his last speech of the campaign. I stood on a chair in the back of the crowd and looked around at people's faces. I felt proud to be there among them--the type of crowd that put Obama in office--a truly diverse crowd: all colors, all ages...a microcosm of America. I am overwhelmed with pride this week, and I wish Mr. Obama luck in what will be a challenging four, and hopefully, eight years.

Great presidents aren't made in easy times, and these are no easy times.