Remembering
James Robison

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Celebration and Security: Observations from the Nation’s Capital on Inauguration Day

The morning after Inauguration Day sees a new president and sore calves.

By Al Perrotta Published on January 21, 2025

Washington, D.C. was MAGA-ville U.S.A. yesterday for the second inauguration of President Donald Trump. From the subways to the streets, seemingly everyone was wrapped in MAGA gear and enthusiasm. CBS host Gayle King grumbled from her ivory tower and 2017 script that she didn’t see that many “people of color” involved in the ceremonies. Put on a parka, lady, and hang with us real people.

I had barely settled into my subway seat before spotting a young black man with a shaved head and wearing green sweats … with a MAGA hat attached to his backpack. Spotting the Trump scarf I was sporting, he gave a big smile and warm wave. The platform at the Gallery Place metro stop was a sea of MAGA. Black, white, Asian, Hispanic, young, old, Midwestern families and solo city slickers were all bundled against the cold that awaited us above ground, each supporter a bundle of excitement.

This was the (historic) day the Lord had made, I was definitely going to rejoice and be glad in it.

Gallery Place would also serve as the first reminder of the extraordinary security for the inaugural festivities. People were not allowed to enter or exit the station, as it was located in the secured area around Capital One Arena. We could only use it to transfer to other subway lines. Another sign that today was unlike any other? The groups of police officers huddled at various points around the station. 

Above ground, tall black iron fencing lined both sides of the streets a full two blocks from the Capitol, and with all the cops from various departments milling around, they might as well have held a law enforcement convention. In addition to the expected D.C. Metropolitan Police and the Capitol Police Department, I spotted cops from Maryland, Louisiana, and Yonkers, New York, not to mention Secret Service, Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) and Army troops seemingly filling every nook and cranny. 

A group of soldiers helping secure the Capitol on Inauguration Day, 2025.

What I didn’t see, to my surprise, were any anti-Trump protesters. Sure, I saw a big band of Proud Boys decked in black and yellow; a small but amplified group of street evangelists preaching repentance; and a group of pro-Democracy Chinese waving signs — but neither hide nor hair of the screeching progressives (mostly professionals) who are a regular feature at any major political event in this town. 

Come to think of it, I didn’t even see that many dour faces in a city that voted 90% Democrat in November. Perhaps the fact that it was Martin Luther King Day in addition to all the inaugural commotion and the bitter cold, they all stayed home. Or perhaps in their hearts, they recognized that Trump’s return is actually a good thing … or at least a tolerable thing. 

Or with the Commanders heading, amazingly, to the NFC Championship game this weekend, maybe everybody in  town was just in a good mood. 

Witnessing the Inauguration

Old Man Winter killed my plans to watch the inauguration ceremony from the National Mall, so I took advantage of an invitation to the Heritage Foundation Open House. On the approach, I spotted Heritage’s six-story tall banner congratulating Trump … and loud sign of one reason he won.  Gas in this town costs $4.49 a gallon?

A banner at the Heritage Foundation congratulating Trump … and a reminder of the cost of Joe Biden’s energy policies.

The place was jam packed. Far more people than expected showed up, thanks to everything being forced indoors. Again, even though we were in the lair of a conservative think tank usually populated with sharp people in smart suits, the viewing rooms were filled with all types of people wearing everything from Gucci to blue jeans.

One of the rooms at the Heritage Foundation Open House Inaugural Viewing Party, January 20, 2025.

My fellow patriots and I cheered the arrival of favored politicians, and jeered the arrival of Barack Obama and the Clintons. We also let out a collective “Awwwwwwwww!” when J.D. Vance’s adorable tots were ushered in. 

And when Donald J. Trump was sworn in again as president, after four long, brutal years, grown men even wept. 

We got to enjoy the raw feed of the ceremony without distracting commentary. Among the images that are indelibly burned into my mind:

  • J.D. Vance, beaming but seemingly near tears; and indeed, his wife, Usha, looking for all the world like a future first lady. At the sight of them, a man from the back of the room I was in began shouting, “Forty-eight! Forty-eight! Forty-eight!” 
  • Melania Trump, looking like a sleek assassin from a European spy thriller, the large brim of her hat shading her ever-watchful eyes. In fact, the brim was so wide that Trump had trouble kissing his bride. 
  • Joe Biden looking alternately respectful and dazed, sleepy and miserable; Kamala Harris looking just plain miserable — understandably so.
  • Sen. Amy Klobuchar handling with grace and a true bipartisan spirit her hosting duties. I sighed with relief that Biden had picked Harris over the far superior Klobuchar to be his running mate.
  • And former President George W. Bush looking like someone had just given him a wedgie.

 

Above all, we saw the clear weight of American history, the signers of the Declaration looking down on the proceedings from John Trumbell’s famous painting, and God’s continued hand in the affairs of our nation.

  • A stunning rendition of “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” echoed by Franklin Graham noting, “Mr. President, I’m sure there were times when you thought things were dark. But look at what God has done.”
  • Detroit pastor Lorenzo Sewell taking the Rotunda to church, evoking Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech on the holiday bearing his name.  

 

President Trump’s day included signing executive orders that get rid of DEI initiatives throughout the federal government, returning the United States to a place where we are judged “not by the color of our skin, but by the content of our character.” Trump did not just reclaim the White House. He reclaimed the victory of King’s vision. It was King’s Day, too, not just Trump’s. 

During his speech, Trump noted that his miraculous comeback despite the lawfare and assassination attempts levied against him should inspire Americans to never give up. Carrie Underwood also demonstrated just how to roll with the punches. When her backing track failed in front of the entire world, she simply belted out “America the Beautiful” a capella. 

“God shed His grace on thee,” the former American Idol champ sang.

Guess it’s up to the American people now to determine if we deserve that grace. 

Awaiting the Motorcade

With the ceremony over, I headed back into the cold to check out the scene near the Capitol — or as near as one could get — past the black street hustlers confidently and very profitably peddling Trump swag. “Don’t be a Democrat!” one called out to passersby who were already weighed down in Trump gear. (Gotta love the entrepreneurial spirit. Had Harris won, that same fellow would be yelling, “Don’t be MAGA!” I’m sure by this afternoon, with Trump supporters out of town, those same tables will be filled with Washington Commanders merchandise.)

I decided to grab some lunch at a little Indian place on 7th Street, and perhaps get some work done before hitting the subway. But the Secret Service and a unit of Army soldiers had other plans.

Unlike tens of thousands of Trump supporters who gladly lined the streets around the Capitol, I wasn’t planning to watch the presidential motorcade from there. Coming back from 7th Street, I missed by about one minute the shutting down of 6th Street NW. Boom! The big black gates were pushed shut almost in my face. “But I have to get to the subway!” many people said. “My house is just a block away!” “That’s my car just on the other side of that fence!” That made no difference. 

But why were the security forces shutting down 6th Street when the motorcade would head down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House? “Wait about a half an hour,” a smiling Secret Service agent said when I asked. “You might see something special.”

A few minutes later, a lady in a black wool Trump cap declared, “He’s coming this way to get to Capital Arena.” Oh, that’s right. 

Shortly thereafter, a lanky Secret Service agent came bellowing down the street. “Move away from the fence! Off the sidewalk! Back! Back!” A line of Army soldiers followed, marching down the sidewalk before taking a position at ease facing us. Once we saw that, we knew it wouldn’t be long before Trump came as well.

Unfortunately, that expected half-hour turned into a bone-chilling, muscle-cramping, spirit-challenging 90 minutes. How long does it take for him to eat lunch? How many toasts do they have to make?! Toss him a Big Mac and a Diet Coke and be done with it! 

I confess I grumbled at one point, “Why am I standing in the cold to see him drive by? I was 10 feet away from him at Mar-a-Lago two weeks ago.” (Where it was a lot warmer, I might add.) But if little kids with red cheeks and soldiers standing at the ready awaiting their Commander-in-Chief, stomping their feet to keep warm, could stand their posts, I figured I could tough it out, too.

A Trump supporter ventured out for hot chocolate chip cookies, then returned and distributed them to our group. A little girl no more than seven stepped up to a soldier to give him a hand warmer. Those soldiers were so young and sturdy! Men and women with names like Skiver and Smith, DeJesus and Gonzalez. “Thank you for your service!” the crowd repeatedly told them. 

Finally — suddenly — the moment came: The presidential motorcade turned right off Pennsylvania and raced uphill toward the Capitol Arena. (Please excuse the cinematography below. It’s the best I could manage with fumbling, freezing fingers when I couldn’t get my iPad to open and had to grab my phone … which promptly died the minute the motorcade passed.)

 

The Great Day Ends

Of course, the celebratory events continued late into the night with the three official inaugural balls. The Trumps and Vances took a spin at each, with the president somehow still having the energy to give rousing speeches at every stop and Melania somehow managing to look more beautiful than ever. In fact, my final memory of the night is President Trump holding his wife closer than I’ve ever seen him hold her as they swayed back and forth to the Righteous Brothers’ timeless “Unchained Melody.” 

“I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me.”

This time, after all he’s been through these past four years, that seems to be true. A more humble man has taken office, with his strong and beautiful partner at his side. 

 

Al Perrotta is The Stream’s Washington bureau chief, coauthor with John Zmirak of The Politically Incorrect Guide to Immigration, and coauthor of the counterterrorism memoir Hostile Intent: Protecting Yourself Against Terrorism.