written: 1230 am 1/21/05
published: ABC News.Com
Reporter's Notebook: Journalist or Citizen or Both?
When Covering a Presidential Inauguration, Sometimes a Wave Just Happens
by HARI SREENIVASAN

NEW YORK, Jan. 21, 2005 — By now you've had a chance to hear or read text of the speech, and the subsequent analysis by the minds at ABC or elsewhere on the implications and weight of the words, so let me try and paint you a different type of picture of the day.

Regardless of how many layers you had on, and how many "hot packets" you shoved into your shoes or gloves to get warm, there was still a certain chill of excitement in the air. Perched 50 to 75 feet off the ground, on what seemed an unsteady set of high-tech bleachers for the media, I shared a vantage point with the cameras that attempted to peer down into the eyes and soul of the president above and through the bulletproof glass.

From this place, I also had a chance to watch the media machine at work. While waiting for the speech, I looked down on those among us who had earlier brazenly cut the long media security lines to get to these bleachers. I watched the senators with future aspirations who dutifully made their rounds offering their predictions and assessments of words yet to be delivered.

I noticed how few members of the press place their hand over their hearts, or stand at attention when the national anthem is sung. I wondered more whether it was because this group of press thought it "un-cool" to be patriotic — or because they really just weren't participating in the event they all had their lenses trained on — but instead were here to cover.

When I felt cold, I looked up on the top outer ring of the Capitol rotunda where Secret Service agents peered back through binoculars and snipers kept walking at purposefully random patterns.

As the president was being given his oath by William Rehnquist, the chief justice of the United States, it was a relatively quiet moment, but I could hear protesters crying out their discontent. It was a voice — perhaps two — amidst a sea of supporters seated and standing near the Capitol to see this moment.
While those shouts seemed largely to be ignored, I noticed how much more powerful the silent gesture of turning a back to the event was. Three people near the center section of the crowd, simply stood up in one of the aisles, faced their back toward a president who likely never saw them, and put up peace signs with their fingers — immediately drawing the attention of those around them, and the press that were in the area.

Just after the speech, I was part of a few handfuls of journalists who rode rolling media platforms 20 to 50 yards in front of the limousine carrying the president and the first lady. In the staging area, as the media trucks passed President Bush's car for the first time, he and the first lady were inside. Our truck was last, and had paused for quite some time within 50 feet of them.

There was George W. Bush seeing some familiar faces — like ABC's White House Correspondent Terry Moran who was on the same truck as me, and the president just began to wave at us. I watched him, and before I knew it I was waving back. As I caught myself — I looked around and the rest of us on the truck were waving back. It wasn't a sign that the media were too friendly to the presidency and not doing our jobs of asking the hard questions.

Whether it is what is trained in us since early childhood, a weakness for celebrity, or just a sign of good will and respect — when the president waves and smiles at you, you wave and smile back. It just happens.

As he rode down Pennsylvania Avenue, the president was greeted by citizens of the country he said he would work to unite in his last inaugural address. Four years later, he is faced with a nation still divided. Through the bulletproof glass the president must have seen the type of signs he is likely used to by now — protesting his foreign and domestic policies and some plain and simple personal attacks.

He also must have seen the smiling and supportive faces which might have seen him on the campaign trail. He also surely saw the hundreds of military cadets and troops who stood at attention 5 yards apart with their backs to sometimes hostile crowds — eyes forward — waiting for their commander in chief to roll by.

I'll remember speaking to a rather candid Secret Service agent, who is on the president's detail and like so many others in the agency had scouted building rooftop, after line-of-sight vantage point, after nook, after cranny of this motorcade's route.

Finally — I'll remember being across the street from the president's viewing area near Lafayette Park where the parade passed by. Several of the parade groups were on horseback — and each had an accompanying group of sweepers — usually people in fluorescent vests with a garbage can and a shovel.
Repeatedly, as the president waved to float after marching band, when it came to the sweepers you could see President Bush strive to make eye contact and give them a wink, a nod, a thumbs-up or a gesture as if he was shoveling.

It's that ability to make people believe that you shovel like they do — that you are one of them — that helps get you into the White House and produces historic days like these.