The president who loves wading into crowds to pump hands spent much of his second inauguration waving at his fellow citizens from behind protective glass on Monday.
But the crowds who gathered to witness the last inaugural of the century, indeed, of the millennium, seemed not to mind the protective bubble that accompanies the modern presidency.
President Clinton, like any president, is the main event, and just catching a glimpse of him on a historic day like a presidential inaugural was enough for many people.
On a January day that felt chillier than the 40 degrees or so claimed by the meteorologists, tens of thousands of Americans braved the cold to be a part of the quadrennial ceremony that is America’s version of a coronation.
A crowd that officials estimated at 250,000 gathered on the western side of the Capitol grounds, in the shadow of the Washington Monument, to hear Clinton’s address. Despite long lines many had to face to get through the security of metal detectors, the mood was generally congenial.
Seated on the presidential platform, among the VIPs, new Sen. Dick Durbin of Illinois became cameraman-for-a-day, using a hand-held videocam to give viewers of the MSNBC cable network a senator’s eye view of the presidential swearing-in ceremony.
“I hope some part of it is usable,” Durbin said. “Hopefully, I did better than at my daughter’s graduation.”
Displaying some early results from the bipartisan bridge-building that Clinton made a theme of his address, Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr. (D-Ill.) secured plenty of the more choice seats for residents of his Chicago constituency by writing his Republican colleagues to request unused tickets from their congressional allocations.
After Jackson had accumulated about 900 spare passes, he sent out a letter to Chicago supporters encouraging them to come for the ceremony, he said.
At a coffee and donuts reception he held at his office for constituents Monday morning, the crowd spilled out into the hall and neighboring offices.
“They’re in town. They’re happy, we’re happy and everybody’s happy,” said Jackson, for whom the inauguration was something of a family event.
His father, Rev. Jesse Jackson, spoke at a morning inaugural prayer service and his sister, Santita, finished the swearing-in ceremony with a performance of the national anthem.
Rep. Luis Gutierrez (D-Ill.), a former alderman who received his political education in the rough-and-tumble of the 1980s Council Wars, had his mind on partisan political matters.
Gutierrez brought his 17-year-old daughter, Omaira, out from Chicago for the inauguration but planned to extend the trip an extra day so she will be at the Capitol when GOP House Speaker Newt Gingrich faces a scheduled vote on an official reprimand for ethics violations.
“I thought, why send her home?” Gutierrez said. “Watch Clinton sworn in one day and Gingrich reprimanded the next.”
People along the parade route showed restraint, even when the parade got off to a late start because the star, Clinton, was taking his time at a luncheon with members of Congress. “Patience is a virtue. President Clinton is on his way,” a public address announcer told the crowd.
Led by a police and military escort, Clinton finally made his way down Pennsylvania Avenue about half an hour late.
He waved at the crowds from behind the closed windows of his specially reinforced limousine.
Although most of the crowd hoped the Clintons would leave the car and walk the parade route, nearly all were disappointed except for those waiting in the last two blocks before the White House reviewing stand. There the Clintons left their car and walked the short distance to the glass-enclosed stand.
Aside from the president and vice president, some of the loudest applause was reserved for the back-flipping, high-jumping Jesse White Tumblers of Chicago, who represented Illinois in the parade.
