University of Maryland Comcast Center. My 16-year old son and I have braved the elements and callous humanity for a chance to see Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama.Faces in the crowd:
Squat middle-aged African-American woman, huffing and puffing up the hill past the foot bridge...
Middle-aged redneck looking chubby white guy, complete with cowboy hat, long gray hair, beard and moustache...
Lanky Asian twenty-something guy, clean shaven and well groomed...
Suburban blonde and brown-eyed housewife-styled twenty-something white woman, three elementary school-aged children in tow...
Bulky bundled-up weather-worn elderly African-American guy, looking somewhat bewildered by the size of the line...
Smattering of Latino-looking guys and gals hanging together, college students probably, young and otherwise non-descript...
Tall thin white aging hippie throwback guy, long white hair gathered in a flowing freak flag...
Typical looking teenage and twenty-something college students, tons of them, all shapes, sizes, and colors...
White forty-something wall street looking guy, cell phone in his face, probably drives a beemer...
College professors, Prince George's and Montgomery Counties locals, University staff, reporters, documentary film makers, slices of America...
My heart beats faster as I scan each one. This is what it's all about. People from all walks of life coming together, believing in a common cause. Some of us are crazy for the messenger, some not so much, but we are all united in a similar quest for a new America. This isn't just a rally. It's a movement. A movement we can hopefully some day, one day look back upon, point, and realize this is where it all began.
My son's croc-clad feet start to go numb as we scramble for a way inside. We've been separated by gestapo campus police. To be continued...
