History

11.04.08

The day started with trying to focus my attention on work activities, but I could not. I was counting down to the evening’s event. Everyone was psyched-up and so ready for counts to come in. I expected nothing but a landslide for Obama as the polls’ percent was six ahead against McCain's for many weeks. The margin was so wide that it would have taken an earthquake to prevent everyone not to get to the polls and generate the inevitable win. We were told to leave the office early because of activities that night, meaning they thought there was going to be riots on the streets of Chicago. More eloquently the message could have been something more dutiful like, get out and vote and make a difference, do your duty to your country and leave to office at 3pm to do so. I got tickets and was going to the event, thinking somehow this was a special event only for the 65000 who got the tickets, but little did I know, just about anyone could sneak in, in addition, knowing that a lot less would probably show up with actual tickets while those who didn't have tickets would be the ones storming the place. I left the office as early as I could before the sun went down and did my long run outside. The weather was perfect, and I finished in the dark as usual. It was probably one of my best runs ever. I had too much energy, too much adrenaline, and too little patience in doing a leisurely run because I needed to get my ass to Grant Park as fast as I could. When I got back, I turned on the T.V. and knew that it was going to be a long night. No one ever talks about final results anymore until they have all the facts. They only give projected results. I was getting nowhere with the blabbering news and with these projections. The polls were closing on the east coast in four minutes. Don’t tell me projected counts, just tell me Obama won! Eventually after a quick shower and a quick glance back at the T.V., I made my way to Grant Park in my Obama gear, so politically charged and unable to retain my excitement. I met up with my co-worker and joined the mass of people all out in the streets trying to find the entrance. The energy was high and everyone was exhilarated. No one who supported McCain came out publically that night. They would have been lynched, tarred with feathers, dragged down the streets, and forced to wear an Obama sticker on their foreheads. We didn’t know what the hell we were supposed to go and ended up on the longest line in the world, somewhere on 8th street. I’ve never been on 8th street in my life and we didn't moved one block up in the hour we stood there. I called some people who were locals and they never heard of 8th street either. People all around us were wondering if we were standing in the wrong line. After some time, like an hour, some people went up and promised to call back with information about the non-moving line, but they didn’t call back nor come back at the end. So we decided to jump the line too. It turned out the line was bogus and everyone just entered all at once in the front. Typical and obvious, we weren't using our asian instincts. We got in, and I did my part by calling back to the people still waiting in line who stood behind us to come and come now! We picked up another co-worker on the way up, and I gave him my other printed, copied ticket. I printed two at work. Before we all headed out, he was fretting that he didn’t have a ticket and didn’t know what he would do. I told him we’ll figure something out and not to worry. Well, we got in all three of us on the same printed ticket. They weren't checking but just acting like they were checking. Bunch of goofballs dressed up in reflecting, yellow gear. No one was turned back nor asked to show proof, and everyone who had the balls to show any paper got themselves in. I found out the next day another co-worker just picked up trash on the sidewalk and got him and his wife in. The crowd was heavy and we started to push our way up. I was determined to get to the front. We moved up slowly for a long time, and I felt we were near the stage based on the growing overhead light coming at us. Eventually we hit a wall of people. They surrounding us, and I could not see above the shoulders and heads. I was too short in this particular section. Damit, my co-workers were short too. We were all the same height. I told my co-workers to lift me so I could see how far we were from the stage. We were nowhere close and it looked as far away as the moon. When they lifted me I just couldn’t believe how many people there were at this rally. It was impressive and breathtaking. Somehow it felt like time stopped and everything was moving in slow-mo as I looked forward at the small stage and the mass of people in between me and the stage. I slowly viewed everything taking it all in from right to left. I didn't want to be let down. I just wanted to sit there on their shoulders forever looking at the screaming crowd. It was somehow peaceful and very warming.

Well during all this, I was text messaging non-stop four people at once and constantly taking calls to see how the counts were going. My brother texted me asking if I was one of the million people in the park. I told him I was one of the million and one and he had to give me election updates. My best friend called and asked me where I was standing. He expected to locate me on TV.. Isn’t it obvious? He gave me updated stats and said that more people were on the right side of the screen and less on the left. We were on the right, so we moved our butts to the left hoping for better views and a closer position to the stage. It turned out there were two sections, one for the ticket holders and one for special people like Oprah and Jesse Jackson, campaign affiliates, high donators, the press, and probably those who got there hours beforehand and had a proper pat down to make sure there weren't carrying weapons, passed the lie detector test, and was drug free. We chanted, we cheered, we listened, and we relished in this historical moment. We screamed our hearts out, our legs were in total agony, and we needed to urinate badly. The text messages kept going all night long, and I kept trying to find people and arrange a gathering afterward. We actually did see Obama despite the fact the stage was perpendicular to our view. Throughout the night, all we got to look at was the gigantic TV. screen. But for one brief moment, he walked to his right and raised a waving hand to us all and we saw him. He was a centimeter big. We left amazed, elated, too moved to even know how to express what we just witness. 260,000 people all cheering for the same thing, celebrating the same thing, all crazed with delight, all looking at the new road ahead.

Afterward, we hooked up with an old friend of mine, an ex-co-worker, who decided that morning to fly into Chicago to be part of this rally. I don’t know if my silly idea started it all, but in the morning she texted me at 8am saying “Rock the Vote!” I replied “Totally” and wrote that I was going to the rally in Grant Park. She texted, “I’m so jealous” and I replied, “Join me!” and that's what she just did. That morning after 10 text messages and then after 20 text messages in the afternoon and various phone calls with me, she got out of work, voted, got herself on a plane, and arrived at Grant Park. We had drinks and food till 2am at Rock Bottom Brewery, talked, caught up on everything including our feelings of this incredible day, what lead up to this day, and what we foresee the future to be like in the next four years. We were still high on energy, pumped with adrenaline, and could do nothing but think how lucky we were to be part of this historical moment and witnessed it all. It was good to be with my co-workers, old and new. It was good to be in Chicago. It was good to win. And it was damn good to be a part of history.