Northeast Colorado native sees Trump inauguration through unique lens

The first presidential election I can remember was the 1980 race between Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan. I don’t remember much about the election; I was only a 9-year-old fourth-grader at Platte Valley Elementary School in Sedgwick.

As was common in that day and time, students were well aware that the president of the country was a man named Carter. Many even knew that he had a daughter named Amy living in the White House. But I suspect most of us at that age did not know who Ronald Reagan was — I know I sure didn’t.

I recall we had a mock election of sorts. I don’t remember much about it, other than throwing my support behind the name I was familiar with — James Earl Carter. I suspect such a revelation has my mother considering whether or not her will needs to be changed.

Fast-forward four years to the presidential election of 1984, and I had grown into a political pro for my age. Most Sedgwick County natives know my parents, Ray and Nancy Berges, have spent a From Page 1
lifetime being active in local campaigns and politics.

Dragging me around with them to campaign meetings, events and dinners certainly shaped my upbringing and formed a respect for local politics that most kids my age didn’t have or care about.

I remember with great fondness all of the meetings and work surrounding the first campaign I really worked on — the 1982 election of Jim Brandon of Akron, who successfully and surprisingly unseated Melba Hastings for the Colorado state Senate seat for the 1st District, which Sedgwick County was a part of.

As with many “children of the ’80s,” I remember the ’80s fondly. The positive tone of the Reagan Revolution lifted the dark cloud that hung over our nation for much of the ’70s. Times were peaceful, relatively prosperous, and it was a great backdrop for growing up.

I was a precocious eighth-grader at Revere in 1984, solidly footed in the Reagan re-election camp. I remember spending election night at the Mac Land Building in Julesburg, just across from the courthouse. Many of the adults that shaped my political upbringing were there — Kish and Aiko Otsuka, Marguerite and Warren Vandegriff, and Darris and Peggy Cumming, to name a few.

We had a single TV with national election returns and a chalkboard for posting local results. I remember trying to get a little homework done in the busy and noisy room in between trips to run across the street to the courthouse to check on and write down any new local results. Remember folks, this was pre-internet election coverage at its finest.

Three years later in 1987, Kish and Aiko got me tickets and took me to see President Reagan speak in North Platte, Nebraska. That was quite a memorable day just weeks after I turned 16.

Five years later, George H. W. Bush would come to speak at Oklahoma Christian University where I was a junior, and I was standing just yards away from his podium while he spoke.

My upbringing and these special events definitely endeared a great love of country and respect for the office of president deep within me.

Most of my adult life I have shied away from too much political participation. Perhaps partly due to the fact that it is sometimes difficult for an introvert to inject himself into such circumstances in unfamiliar surroundings.

I suspect sometimes we forget how fortunate those that live in small towns are, where becoming engaged politically is not only a bit easier, it is almost necessary to keep things running.

An unexpected job change in 2011 took me to the Washington, D.C., area and reignited the passion for history and politics that had grown dormant so many years before.

Last Friday, early on inauguration day, I left home about 6 a.m. to head into the city. I live about 20 miles away from the closest subway station and about 45 miles from D.C., and I didn’t know what to expect for traffic. Most weekdays, traffic on this route is horrible, and I suspected it would be a long, slow drive.

Butch Stone likes to kid me that some days traffic in downtown Julesburg is horrible, and he may encounter a one- or two-minute delay if someone is driving slowly or if a dog is slow to cross the street as he makes his way to morning coffee.

As the federalies (my nickname for federal government employees in D.C.) were off work on inauguration day, my commute this day was relatively painless. The subway trip into the heart of D.C. would take me about an hour.

While not overly crowded, I was pleasantly surprised that both the pro-Donald Trump and anti-Trump folks on my train were in good spirits and behaved as civilized adults. I literally was sitting between two rows of “Make America Great Again” hats and several rows of anti-Trump labor organizers.

I had purposely decided to avoid the Pennsylvania Avenue (north) side of the National Mall and chose to approach from the south via L’Enfante Plaza. Later, that decision would turn out to be a wise one as most of the protests you witnessed on TV were on the north side of the Mall.

As I came up out of the subway around 8 a.m., I was met with gray skies and light drizzle and a large mass of people waiting in line to go through security to enter the fenced-off Mall area. The security lines seemed long and stagnant, so quite a large group of us set off to find the next security checkpoint five blocks west. That effort seemed to be in vain, as we only found another line several blocks long there as well.

Several things struck me as I stood in line and as I surveyed the crowds that day. First, I was shocked at how many children were there — many in the junior high and high school age range, lots of families with children and lots of school groups.

The group just ahead of me in the security line was from Durango, the folks near me on the train were from Maryland, Pennsylvania and Tennessee. People from all over were descending on D.C. for the inauguration.

The second observation that was obvious to me was how incredibly cheerful and kind everyone was. Now granted, D.C. in tourist season seems to find nicer people than you might find in New York City, New York, but I cannot say I have ever run into more polite and considerate people in D.C. than I did during the inauguration.

After my sandwiches, umbrella and cellphone were sufficiently inspected, I cleared security and proceeded to move as far east as I could get in the “general public” area. This is the area that is farthest away from the Capitol. I didn’t realize until the night before that the best sections near the Capitol are for folks that secured special and limited tickets from their member of Congress.

But it didn’t matter — I was in D.C. where the eyes of the world would be watching this day. I finally came to rest at a great spot near 4th and Jefferson, situated between the National Archives and the Air and Space Museum.

It was just before 9 a.m. when I settled into this spot, so there was quite a lot of time to kill before the swearing-in service would begin at 11:30 a.m.

Shortly after my arrival, The Naked Cowboy, who hails from the streets of New York City, rolled through. He’s a big Trump supporter as evidenced by the letters “TRUMP” spelled out on the rump of his tighty-whities. He was a huge fan favorite as many of the girls there could not wait to have their picture taken with him. If you don’t know who he is, take a side trip to Google to find out.

After The Naked Cowboy moseyed on west through the crowd, we all engaged in conversation with those around us. The conversations would come to a stop any time Trump would be shown on the big-screen TVs throughout the Mall. The conversations would also stop any time the loudspeakers would play Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” as thousands upon thousands of people would join in the singing of the chorus of that popular song. If you love America, it really doesn’t get any better than that. Well actually, maybe it does…

Now keep in mind we really don’t know how many people were in D.C. for the inauguration. Estimates are between 250,000 and 500,000 — not exactly a small crowd.

Turns out that the folks standing right next to me were born and raised in Sterling. Talk about a small world! Hank Schaffer Jr. of Sterling had picked up his sister in Texas and driven to D.C., only to end up standing right next to me in a sea of people.

Here is where my political heritage comes full circle. After talking a great deal about our northeastern Colorado roots, I learned that Schaffer and his parents worked with and traveled extensively with the Otsukas as they led the Sugarbeet Growers Association in the ’70s and ’80s. The Otsukas, who had probably been more influential than anyone in my political upbringing other than my parents, were now part of the common bond I had with the people sharing the 2017 inauguration with me.

For me personally, I believe this moment peaked my inauguration experience, despite the fact that we were still 90 minutes or so from the swearing in of Trump and his first address as president.

My intentions for attending this inauguration were to experience firsthand the special brand of freedom that we enjoy in America and to celebrate the unique nature of this “peaceful transfer of power” within our constitutional republic.

The 2016 election was very personal to many people on both sides of the race, and I suspect that is why passions still run high today, months after the election was decided. Countless Trump supporters feel like they finally had a candidate, and now a president, that would actually listen to and understand their particular American perspective.

My time standing on the National Mall, with newfound friends that understood my heritage, shared my upbringing and my concerns, and who also longed for a shared voice of both their troubles and their dreams, was to me the essence of the American political experience.

In solidarity we gathered in D.C., thankful for being raised in the greatest nation on earth, thankful for a rural Colorado upbringing, and longing for a better future for all Americans.

The swearing-in ceremony was of course met with partisan cheers and a few boos, depending on who was speaking or who was being shown on the TV displays.

I did not have much in the way of expectations for Trump’s speech. Barack Obama, Reagan and Bill Clinton were such powerful orators that they overshadow the abilities of Trump in speaking. But that is fine by me — we have come to a time in our nation where positive outcomes are needed so much more than dazzling words.

I will say I was pleasantly surprised that the composition of his speech focused more on “we the people” than on his oversized ego, but time will tell if he can deliver on those promises and deliver a better tomorrow for “we the people.”

I am fortunate that my inauguration experience was not dampened or interrupted by some of the demonstrations or riots that were going on around town, but their concerns and their angst about the Trump administration did not escape my notice.

Some think that Trump will cause our nation to fall into utter disarray, chaos and dysfunction. I tend to think that apocalyptic vision is unlikely, and we may actually see positive outcomes from his term in office.

If we do devolve into anarchy, you will probably find me south of Julesburg tending a garden with my mom and living off the land.

Either way, I know I have a bright future ahead in this great nation of ours.