Huffpost Politics The Blog   Gabrielle Burton Headshot
Inauguration Second Time Around--Sort of  Posted: Updated:  Our
blood is thin from California living, and my husband, Roger, had
a broken arm, but we braved the cold and the crowds and went to
the Inauguration. We stood on the mall with two million other
joyful people and were glad we didn't need a restroom quickly.
It was our second time around--sort of. In 1964, when Lyndon
Johnson was elected President by mandate, we lived in Bethesda,
MD. and I, a young suburban wife and mother, desperately wanted
to go to the Inaugural Ball. Not because I cared for President
Johnson; he was totally incidental to the glamour I yearned for.
Roger asked everyone he knew and one day came home waving a pair
of prized Inaugural Ball tickets. My excitement fizzled fast:
They cost $100.00 apiece! My thrifty nature, even my ethics,
would never allow me to spend that kind of money on a ball. But
I still was dying to go. One day I read in the Washington Post
that, to expedite