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I Took Them with Me
By Phyllis Randall
On the morning of Tuesday November 20th I hauled myself out of bed at 4:15 a.m. having had only three hours sleep. At 4:30 I began the process of coaxing, cajoling, beseeching, and finally forcing my husband and two sons out of their warm beds. We were tired, really tired. My house was cold as it was only about 19 degrees outside and I was fully aware that the day that loomed before me could very well be just a little overwhelming. However, none of that mattered much to the Randall family because we were acutely aware, and thoroughly elated that we were about to witness an historical event.
As I dressed myself and my children in five layers of clothes, I began recalling, and calling out the names of my ancestors; my grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, other family members and loved ones all whom are now long since gone. I strained to remember their names and their faces because I wanted to take them with me; I wanted them close to me, to wrap myself in their strength and love and appreciate the fact that if not for them and thousands of others like them this day would not be possible.
Running late we almost missed the bus that left at 5:30 heading to RFK Stadium. The trip that should have taken no more than an hour, took more than twice that long. As we pulled into the RFK parking lot there were literally thousands of buses from all around the country. After a long shuttle ride from RFK to the National Mall we disembarked and began the process of walking, and walking and walking. As we walked I could not help but notice the diversity of faces and languages in the throngs of people. Even more apparent was the atmosphere. Imagine being in Washington DC, among two million people all in relatively good spirits, all there for a single purpose and all knowing and appreciating the enormity of purpose for which we gathered.

Phyllis, Husband T.W. and sons Ashon and Aaron Catch Bus to RFK Stadium
Now came the only sad time in the day for me. Congressman Frank Wolf had graciously provided our family with four tickets. However, we were in two separate areas. My Husband took our oldest son and made a right turn to the blue seating area, while I took the hand of our youngest son and turned left toward the silver area. We waved goodbye secure in the knowledge that although we would not stand side by side to watch the inaugural events, we were all in attendance, and that was what mattered most. After waiting much too long in a crushing crowd of people my son and I, accompanied by the ever- helpful Tim Buchholz, proudly showed our silver tickets and went to our viewing area. Now all that was left was to brave the cold and wait for the Inauguration of our forty fourth President of the United States to begin.
The music began, the prayer was offered, Aretha sang as only Aretha can, the Vice President took his oath, the musicians played, and now the moment was upon us. As the President Elect stood up to become the President, I looked at my son and the inconceivable importance of this event washed over me. Tim allowed my son, Aaron to climb on his back so that he could have a better view. Like me, Tim understood that it was imperative for Aaron to witness this event.
The only words I heard and focused on were the beginning and the end of the Presidential Oath of Office, “I Barack Hussein Obama” and “so help me God.” Of course I knew that the words to the oath did not tumble out of the mouths of Chief Justice Roberts or President Obama as smoothly as we would have all liked, but that did not matter. In the end all that mattered was that the Randall family was blessed enough to bear witness to the moment when once again our incredible country had a peaceful transition of power, when the hard work of millions of volunteers and supporters came to fruition, and yes, when the nation swore in its first African American President. As now President Obama took the oath and spoke the words that only forty three men before him had ever uttered I knew this was a moment I would cherish forever, and I hoped Aaron will never forget what he had just observed. Although I’m not known for public displays of emotion, tears streamed down my face as Aaron, Tim and I shared a hug.

Phyllis, Aaron and Tim Buchholz, (LCDC Chairperson) in Washington
I believe President Obama is not just simply the first African American President; he is also the right person, at the right time with the right policies to lead our great country forward in a period of uncertainty and strife. For me his inauguration was an amazing experience, one that many believed would not happen for many years and one that I felt blessed to be able to attend, and share with my family. And share it I did, with all my family, even the ones whose names I know but whom I never met. They were all there, because I took each and every one of them with me.
Note: Phyllis Randall, former candidate for the Loudoun County Board of Supervisors, Broad Run District was the keynote speaker at the MLK Day celebration in Leesburg in 2008. Ms. Randall authored the first resolution recognizing African American History Month in Loudoun and was the first African American to seek the office of Supervisor in Loudoun's 250 year history. She is currently the Chairperson for the Loudoun County Public School Minority Student Achievement Advisory Committee (MSAAC). She is a Community Activist who served as policy advisor for Next Level 4 Teens, served on Virginia's HAVA (Help America Vote Act) Committee and is a regular panelist on the cable talk show “The Road To.”
Most importantly Phyllis is the mother of two sons an active member of both her children's PTA and PTO.
By profession Phyllis is a Mental Health Therapist. You may contact Phyllis Randall at PRandall@smartneighborhood.net.

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