http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/36202.page Public Action By David Dillon

By this dawn’s early light a nation is bathed in hope.
The world has drawn a fresh breath and
mothers from Bangor to Selma, from East L.A.
to East New York dare dream that tomorrow
their babies will hunger no more.

By this dawn’s early light our vision is clearing.
We see now a family struggling to find
its way home. From disasters wrought
by nature’s storms. And from calamity
inflicted by a society’s insouciance to indifference.

By this dawn’s early light children of war
look forward to recoiling no more
from bombs bursting in air.
Tiny eyes closing in repose for the first time;
absent a lifetime of rockets’ red glare.

By this dawn’s early light the world sees us
for the first time as we wish to see ourselves.
Without prejudice or envy. With hope and humility.
With love and caring for the greatest and the least of us.
With respect and regard for every belief and
nurturing of the one home we all share.

By this dawn’s early light we feel our collective heart
beating. With a spirit transformed to a cadence that
moves us forward. With purpose and poise.
With pride and passion. And belief that
the destination is clear. And that with these steps
a journey is begun.

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We wanted a girl. We wanted to keep the population down and not have one on our own, since we had a biological blonde haired son already. What better reason to take a baby than that she needs someone to love her?

After a week of my heart feeling like it had a hole in it, my Dad changed his mind and wrote a letter saying, “I will accept any of your children as my grandchildren biological or adopted.” Soon afterwards, my father met baby Jasmine with her huge personality and he has loved her for 40 years.

On Election Day this year, Jasmine called me from San Francisco, where she is a middle school teacher. She told me that Chris Rock, African American comedian, said if Barack Obama wins, just don’t expect to see any African Americans at work the next day. They will be celebrating. Through tears, Jasmine said, “ And I’m a halfie like him. I should take the whole week off.”

It makes my heart full to know that my 91-year old Dad will be watching the inauguration to see the day that “a person like that” is accepted so fully by both races that he is now the President of the United States.

Sas, Middlebury
Posted by VPR Online Producer Tim Johnson ]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2550495 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2550495 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2549472 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2549472 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2549303 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2549303 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2548584 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2548584 GMT

WHAT: A Celebration of Community

Motivated by the Presidential Inauguration, Upper Valley nonprofit groups are getting together to organize A Community Celebration. The concept for the event stems from the New England Grassroots Environment Fund (NEGEF)'s response to President-elect Barack Obama's November 4th invitation to:"...join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years: block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand." NEGEF's concept as adapted by local nonprofit groups is to use the occasion of this Presidential Inauguration as a way to focus on the work that Upper Valley groups do for the community. Let's celebrate community service in our region!

FEATURING: Dr. Burma (music), Large screen viewing of the Presidential Inauguration (taped), table displays by local nonprofit groups, snacks, cash bar, and good company! Sweet Scoops, Lui Lui, Three Tomatoes Trattoria, Cabot Creamery, The Coop Food Store, Boloco, Panera Bread, Shepard's Pie on the Green and The Dirt Cowboy Cafe have all agreed to make generous food contributions for the party.

COST: Suggested donation of $5 per person (this will go to reimbursing participating organizations, so far including the Upper Valley Land Trust, Upper Valley Haven, Vital Communities, Upper Valley Educators Institute, Sustainable Food Laboratory, Enfield Shaker Museum, Northern Stage, Puppetree, Inc., Second Growth, Headrest, Connecticut River Joint Commissions and Upper Valley United Way).

WHERE: Whaleback, 160 Whaleback Mountain Road, Enfield, NH. (Whaleback generously agreed to donated their space in support of the work that local NGOs do.)

WHEN: 5:30-9pm, January 20, 2009

For more information contact Nora Doyle-Burr, UVLT's Programs Coordinator: noradoyle-burr@uvlt.org, (603) 643-6626 ext. 102.
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Our family trip to the inauguration of John F. Kennedy started with a papal blessing--sort of. When my husband, a mid-western Irish-Catholic transplanted to Manhattan deemed that our family should attend the historic event. Our three young ones were excited, though they did not grasp the full import of our excitement. Our enthusiastic youngest, in the second-grade in the local parochial school, prompted a call to me from Sister Constance, the principal, questioning Ann's truthfulness. When assured by me that we were, indeed, head to Washington, lavish with her blessing for what now sounded like a pilgrimage, she wished us well.

Good wishes were needed, driving from our home on Long Island through a severe snow storm. It looked as if we might be a part of history viewing the festivities in front of a TV in a Holiday Inn lounge. I questioned the wisdom of a father who firmly believed in exposing his progeny to history as it happened. Thanks to his determination, it did happen for all of us. The luck of the Irish even made parking spaces open magically close to the action.

Most of all, I remember the cold as we stood on the steps of the Supreme Court looking across at the Capitol where history was being made. I recall the moment when a minor fire started under the lectern. I am unclear if it was when Robert Frost’s words warmed the chill air or when Boston's own Cardinal Cushing gave the day his gravel-voiced imprimatur. The fire was quickly controlled and the festivities proceeded through the endless inaugural parade made memorable for the children by the replica of JFK's PT boat. A chance meeting with a law school friend of my spouse, important in the California delegation, resulted in the gift of two tickets to one of the balls. The children stayed with cousins who lived nearby in the District. I had no time to worry that I had no ball gown nor magic slippers with me. Watching the celebrities trying to avoid dragging hems of expensive dresses and satin pumps through slushy paths to the ball at the Armory, I was grateful to be wearing a warm, yet stylish navy blue wool suit. To see the Kennedy clan close up in their finery was a thrill. To see Jacqueline Kennedy sweep in, a princess in a white gown rich with bead work, was unforgettable.

Some events have a way of forever grabbing and holding a moment of history. On that day in January 1961, America could hope that we’d never hear again the likes of “No Irish Need Apply.” The torch had been passed: Others would follow. On this January 20, 2009, many will count themselves blessed to watch Barack Obama dedicate himself to serve this diverse country.

G. Frances
Brattleboro
]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2546555 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2546555 GMT During the final Get Out The Vote week I was moved up to Walpole where Liesl and I and Elise worked for Ashley at a wonderful barn studio location. We trained and sent out hundreds of volunteers - kids from the Putney School were wonderful and dedicated, even showing up at 5 am on election day to hang door hangers on all supporters' doors in the area. We sent out sign wavers and canvassers and had (I'm told) the best volunteer food in southern New Hampshire.
November 5th was a letdown after all that intense and exciting work.
Now my husband and I are going to the inauguration thanks to Sen Leahy's chief of staff, Ed Pagano, who worked with us in Keene. I'm excited and nervous and honored and... ]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2546519 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2546519 GMT
]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545527 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545527 GMT I can cut this if you’re interested, but concerned about length.
Thanks!
Ann Landenberger
Williamsville, Vermont
Teacher and theatre director, Leland and Gray High School


Recalling Inaugurations

My father was a brilliant man—eccentric to a fault—but gifted in myriad ways. He was a completely unconventional father from whom I learned often in reaction against --rather than in response to--a lesson. He was a model, though, in his commitment to exposing us kids to remarkable thoughts, opportunities and experiences. Much of what I learned as a child, I learned by doing.

When I was only six, my father, an accomplished New York lawyer, trucked us all down to stay with my cousins in Washington so we could see the inauguration of John F. Kennedy. I knew so little of what it was all about and why I should be impressed. Even so, I clearly felt the immense pride my Irish Catholic parents--both ardent Democrats—held for the country’s first Irish Catholic president. That was the buzz of dinner talk those days.

We packed into our old Cadillac limo –one of many that my father had purchased used over the years from an undertaker—and hit the highway that January 19. Outside Washington, we hit a tremendous snowstorm. The tire chains’ gnashing whirr jarred my many silent prayers: “Please God, get us to Aunt Libby’s soon.” We did. And we joined ebullient throngs that Friday, January 20, 1961, as we watched history from the steps of the Supreme Court where years early my father –fresh out of Harvard Law—had served as Justice Jackson’s law clerk.

I wish I could remember the timeless words, the splendid oratory of that brilliant day; I wish I could remember octogenarian Robert Frost, Vermont’s pride, gracefully abandoning the Dedication he couldn’t read in the blinding sun to recite “The Gift Outright” by heart. All I remember is the cold. It was bitter that day: I recall tugging at my mother’s heavy sleeve to watch as a female spectator was carried away after fainting from exposure. I wish I could remember, too, having heard first-hand Kennedy’s call to us all. All I remember is the dictum: “ask what you can do for your country” as it rang through that day and the days of my youth.

Eight years later, when I was older and so much wiser, my father came home from his work in downtown Manhattan one December evening to our place on Long Island’s North Shore. He asked if we’d like to go to Nixon’s inaugural. We groaned. He prodded: It would be fun—a lark. We went and the day was a dull reflection of JFK’s day, which I had heard my family regale again and again. The best part of that junket was the inaugural ball. My parents and I arrived in a cab with one of my brothers, two years older than I and an avid photographer. He carried an ominous-looking camera case laden with sophisticated gear. (How security has changed!) I had “designed” and made my own dress for the ball and, believe me, I felt like a princess. Now 40 years later my mother brings the house down with commentary on my unique presence that night draped in dark blue velvet with a sky blue satin-lined capelet, the piece de la resistance of which was a bunny fur collar. On entering, we split up—my parents to schmooze and dance, my brother to capture what would turn out to be an impressive collection of shots of the First Family, and I to just wander and soak in the Republican ambience. While waiting for Nixon to show up, a very tall, wide, middle-aged man sidled up to me: “Well, young lady, what did you do for the President in his campaign?” “I didn’t do anything,” I sassed clearing a six-foot radius around me: “I’m a democrat.”
Of course I didn’t know what that really meant, but I do now. And thinking back to that inauguration 48 years ago I feel blessed that I have already seen myriad changes in remarkable times. I saw the first Irish Catholic sworn into office and now, with pride which I hope will ripple for our children through the next twelve elections and beyond, we are witnessing another astonishing and beautiful event. Had Robert Frost been able to read the Dedication he’d prepared for John Kennedy, he would have said that day what could be said now:
... The glory of a next Augustan age
Of a power leading from its strength and pride,
Of young ambition eager to be tried,
Firm in our free beliefs without dismay,
In any game the nations want to play.
A golden age of poetry and power
Of which this noonday's the beginning hour.
Young and brimming with verve like John Kennedy but, happily, of an entirely different and equally American background, Barak Obama will lead us to new and better age. I won’t be at the ball: my conscience and developing taste have long since retired the bunny fur. I’ll be busy at school, preparing for a new term’s worth of classes and high school English students, but I know I’ll take a break at noon to join my colleagues and catch the long-awaited “beginning hour.”

* * *
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Mari, Lincoln,VT
Posted by VPR Online Producer, Tim Johnson]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545378 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545378 GMT
I am excited to be a part of this historic moment and as a mother I want my daughters to be infused with a spirit of optimism for public service. Nixon was president when I was born and I grew up terrified that President Reagan was going to lead us into a nuclear war with the USSR. Though the world is still a dangerous place, I feel like the election of President Obama is a demonstration of our commitment as a country and a people to work together towards a positive future. ]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545072 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545072 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545054 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2545054 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2543033 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2543033 GMT
On the 20th, a dear friend of mine (a self-described "Yellow-dog Democrat) is going to have a "BYOK" party.

That's Bring Your Own Kleenex. And believe me, I'm going to be needing that box!

Laura
Brattleboro, VT]]> http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2543030 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2543030 GMT http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2538028 http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/vpr/posts/list/2110211.page#2538028 GMT