A ceremony for others

Inaugurations of a new President are events both ceremonial and functional, marking the official beginning of a new administration and demonstrating one of the bedrocks of our democratic system, the peaceful transfer of power. The outgoing leader sits there politely while the incoming one presents an outline of his intentions for the country, intentions that may directly or indirectly impugn the actions, motives, or even character of his or her predecessor. This following of form regardless of personal feelings may seem shallow, but it serves the same purpose as my assuring my hostess that the main course was delicious, even if it made me want to gag. It allows social or political interactions, which are ultimately of greater and more lasting importance than personal pride or hurt feelings, to continue on a workable level.

This being the case, I was reassured to see politicians of both parties, including the Clintons, attend the latest ceremony. My own personal opinion is that all elected officials of the federal government, regardless of political party, should have been present. Private citizens, of course, have no such duty, although they certainly have the right to attend, and I gather that many enjoyed it last week to the fullest. Exactly how many, of course, is a contentious matter, so I’ll avoid speculating.

As for me, I attended an inauguration one time, and I came away feeling about it pretty much the way comedian Joe E. Brown described life. “You only live once,” he said, “and if you play your cards right, once is enough.” I played my inauguration cards to the best of my ability, and I definitely think one inauguration was enough.

If you’ve heard my story before, I apologize for repeating. But it was like this…

When President Richard Nixon was inaugurated at the beginning of his second term, in January 1973, the brigade of the 82d Airborne Division to which I belonged was chosen to participate as the Guard of Honor. Troops of the brigade, in Class A green uniform, formed a cordon around the capital grounds. They looked sharp, a sort of billboard of patriotism for the peaceful transfer of power. What the public did not know, of course, was that the rest of us, the major portion of troops, were waiting in the trolley tunnel under the capital, in battle dress and combat gear, with rifles and live ammunition. The weapons and ammo had been delivered well before daylight. There was concern that there might be violence, and no chances were to be taken.

Troops around the cordon could see tiny figures of the main characters and senior guests in the distance as the ceremony unfolded. There was some heckling, but no violence. There was a lot of boredom, both on the perimeter and down in the tunnel. The day passed at a chilly snail’s pace and ended not with a bang, but a yawn.

The evening promised to be better. The troops were allowed to roam over Washington. Several of the officers, given the opportunity to attend one of the Inaugural Balls, had paid a stiff price for the tickets. I was one of them. My wife, seven months pregnant and with a 19-month-old toddler accompanying her, had driven up from Fort Bragg, N.C. She parked our daughter with old friends and met me in Arlington, where we got decked out in our finest and went to the Kennedy Center to attend the ball.

If you have ever seen a herd of hogs madly pushing and shoving to get to the feed, imagine those hogs dressed in tuxedos and gowns and fighting to get a drink and a cheap souvenir. I spent most of my time trying to protect my very pregnant wife from being knocked to the floor by lunging, shoving, wild-eyed gentlemen from Peoria or a wheat farm in Kansas. President Nixon eventually showed up, and we could actually see him on stage in the distance, but not clearly. He said a few words and left. I said several choice words and left also, leading my wife out into the bitterly cold wind, glad to escape.

To those who attended the most recent inauguration, I sincerely hope you enjoyed being there for a significant and historic national event. I by no means intend to belittle the ceremony. I salute those who attended it and hope you get to go again. But I do hope you don’t expect to see me there.

This story was originally published January 28, 2017 at 3:22 PM with the headline "A ceremony for others."