At the Trump inauguration, a lost opportunity

"I can't abide rudeness in a man." - Woodrow Call, a character in Larry McMurtry's “Lonesome Dove,” after nearly beating a man to death when he sees him whipping his son with a riding crop.
 
At Donald Trump’s inauguration last week, I stood on the Capitol lawn, out of sight of the swearing-in action, but beneath a jumbotron video screen. The video coverage projected clear images with great camera shots. The towers of speakers, worthy of the best musical concerts, made the commentary and speeches completely audible.

Sussex Councilman Rob Arlett, who headed Trump’s Sussex County organization, graciously provided the Cape Gazette with two tickets for the standing room area where reporter Chris Flood and I started our coverage. Not surprisingly, the people all around were happy Trump supporters who traveled from all over the nation to witness their man taking the oath of office. They were polite, respectful and well-mannered.

Reflecting on my time at this inauguration, one particular aspect remains forefront. It’s not the Mormon couple from Salt Lake City on the Metro, talking about Proud-To-Be-An-American Lee Greenwood singing the day before at the Lincoln Memorial Trump concert. They talked about the Christian nature of their Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and acknowledged that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would be singing at the inauguration. “Of course, that’s nothing new for us,” the man said good-humoredly.

And what has stuck most with me is not the black man with gold-rimmed glasses who helped me figure out what Metro line I was on - and which one I needed to be on - when we headed out of the city that afternoon, after the swearing-in. He looked like a hardworking manual laborer with a stiff canvas bag filled with the tools of his trade. When I said something he agreed with, he would say “My man” which reminded me of Denzel Washington. But he didn’t say “My man” when I asked his thoughts on President Trump. He didn’t slam him either. “I don’t see any of them doing much for black people,” was pretty much his only comment.

The images I saw on the news late that afternoon, when I returned home, of ignorant vandals - posing as protesters - smashing plate glass windows with crowbars at a Starbucks disgusted me. Senseless. I hope they spend a couple months in jail and pay for their destruction.

The most lasting impression, for me, however, came just after Trump - a character of Shakespearean proportions - took his oath of office and worked into his inauguration speech. Up to that point he had flashed warm smiles as he shook hands with former presidents and vice presidents - including Barack Obama and Joe Biden - and their families. He thanked the Obamas and called their efforts at making a smooth transition “magnificent.” That was nice.

But when the smiles turned to a scowl as he launched into a broad and unremitting slam of everything done by the administration, Congress and the establishment over the past eight years, the rudeness of what should have been a unifying moment blinded my mind.

I admire Obama and Biden as I have admired almost all of the presidents and the trials by fire that led them to their positions of great responsibility. Obama and Biden were dealt a tough hand when they took over. Our troops were fighting two wars. Our banking system was falling apart. Terrorism boiled over. General Motors and Chrysler teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, threatening the loss of hundreds of thousands of jobs. Our nation was sinking into the worst recession most of us have ever experienced.

Over the next several years, our nation, led by Obama and Biden, fought its way back from high unemployment to a reasonable rate, and returned a solid footing to our economy. How quickly we forget.

Trump worked hard, and, in the rough-and-tumble world of American politics, won the presidency fairly; he took the oath of office; he had nothing more to prove at that moment. The new president could have expressed gracious and magnanimous acknowlegement that the hard work of so many had paid off in many respects. Yet Trump chose instead to paint the darkest picture he possibly could before moving into positive territory.

Watching the stony faces of Obama and Biden, former presidents Bush, Clinton and Carter, the visceral negativity and malice of the tone Trump chose was anything but unifying.

When I was finally able to refocus on what the new president was saying after the lashing he gave, I realized I agreed with much of what he laid out in the last half of his speech. Change is needed in Washington. Europe should pay more for its defense, and we should take those savings and rebuild our own infrastructure before spending more on other nations. It reminds me of stewardesses on airplanes telling us to get the oxygen masks on our own faces before trying to help others. We should be manufacturing more here and bringing those offshore dollars home.

The deep sense I felt, though, was of lost opportunity. I want Donald Trump to be a good president, but I don’t want him to set an example that tells my children and grandchildren that to get people’s help and cooperation - get them all moving in the right direction - you should slam them first.

And I get all the disruptor stuff. But I don’t get rudeness. That’s what I witnessed, shoved so unnecessarily into the faces of good and decent people, all there in good faith, to support President Trump and our nation’s values. As Trump himself is wont to say: Sad.