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Adventures
in Washington: An Insider's View of the Tabernacle Choir's Visit
to the Inauguration
by
Robb Cundick
Intense,
hurried, soggy, exhausting, yet exciting and inspirational. That
is the Tabernacle Choir's trip to the Bush Inauguration in a nutshell.
Brother
Craig Jessup leads the choir with passion and love.
Early on the
morning of January 18th we flew from Salt Lake City aboard a single
chartered MD-11 wide body. Four hours later we deplaned directly
to buses at rainy Baltimore-Washington International and proceeded
to two Marriott hotels in the beautiful Baltimore Inner Harbor area.
Thirty-five miles north of Washington DC, this was the closest the
Choir could find so many rooms on such short notice. We had a couple
of hours to check in and enjoy a delicious dinner, then change and
head off to a full dress rehearsal for Friday evening's concert.
Another major
challenge for Choir leadership had been arranging for a concert
hall. Fortunately the small but beautiful Center for the Arts at
George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia was available, but
that made for a ninety-minute bus ride from Baltimore. However we
soon discovered 90 minutes was only in the rare event there wasn't
a traffic jam on the Washington Beltway. Our first negotiation of
this pathway seemed almost as long as the plane ride! Still, this
meant we could enjoy the spectacular Beltway view of the Temple
as we traveled to and fro, and despite the rainy weather, when it
first came into sight we felt a thrill in our hearts and were left
fittingly inspired for the events to follow.
Friday morning
provided the only free time of the trip. I had a visit with my eldest
son, who by a strange twist of fate was interviewing for the Assistant
Controller position at our very hotel that day (yes - he got the
job!). While some enjoyed a respite in the hotel, many visited such
attractions as the Baltimore Aquarium or Fort McHenry, site of the
battle that inspired the text of our opening selection for the concert
that night: "The Star Spangled Banner". The Fort McHenry visitors
told us they sang the anthem for the Park Service Employees, and
it was a moving experience for all.
The Choir was
at its best for the concert Friday evening. Brothers Craig Jessop,
Mack Wilberg and Barlow Bradford had programmed a lavish banquet
of music, from Brother Wilberg's beautiful and spirited hymn arrangements,
to patriotic favorites, to the boisterous "Cindy," to selections
from Mendelssohn's "Elijah" and two glorious choruses from my own
Father, Robert Cundick's "The Redeemer." This concert had it all;
rapidly paced and sans intermission, it ended with the perennial
favorite encore, "Battle Hymn of the Republic," followed by our
always-heartfelt "God Be With You 'Till We Meet Again."
For the first
time, talented members of the brass, wind, and percussion sections
of the new Orchestra at Temple Square joined us on tour to supplement
the organ accompaniments. What a wonderful boost they provided to
the performance! The 1600 seat auditorium was filled with an enthusiastic
audience that included members of Congress, employees of Foreign
Embassies, and members of the Church. With three encores, they clamored
for more -despite Brother Lloyd Newell's cautioning, "Don't encourage
them - they have over 1200 pieces in their repertoire!"
Adding
the Orchestra at Temple Square to the performance at George Mason
University was thrilling.
Thank goodness
for the Friday morning break, because the rest of the tour became
a true marathon. Arriving back at the hotels at 11:30, we were to
be in concert dress and at breakfast by 5:30 a.m. Buses left promptly
at 7:00 a.m. in order to have us at the Pentagon parking lot for
security procedures at 8:30. There we passed through metal detectors
that seemed to complain no matter how many things we took out of
our pockets. I was treated to a custom hand frisking by an MP -
I'd never been frisked in my life.
The parade
was not to start until afternoon -- why did this procedure have
to start so early? Well, this was Washington after all -- home of
our nation's bureaucracy. Fortunately we were afforded the luxury
of a heated tent, where after a careful check of our identification
we spent the next three hours amid other parade participants such
as the colorful "Red Hot Mammas" from Idaho (I understand they do
an entertaining routine with shopping carts, but we didn't see it).
There was also group of participants from the yearly Christmas re-enactment
of Washington's Crossing of the Delaware. Clothed in period dress
including three-cornered hats, they called attention to the historicity
of the day. There were also men dressed as Buffalo Soldiers. Portable
latrines were available outside the tent and as I returned from
a visit, here came Abe Lincoln, rushing along fretting that the
misty rain might unglue his beard. A Mariachi Band provided a coup
de grace to the festive atmosphere, with some of the Choir members
organizing a sing along.
At last we
were allowed to re-board our buses. As a Travel Coordinator I was
to account for every person on my bus, and I soon discovered someone
was missing. The poor fellow had been in the latrine and returned
to find the tent to empty. He was soon collared by two military
attendants who escorted him straight to the bus as though to jail.
Each bus was assigned a military security officer who had strict
orders that no one was to enter or leave until we reached our float.
We mistakenly thought our wait was over when our attendant told
the driver he could move out. However a police car soon chased us
down with lights flashing, and a red-faced officer told us to return
immediately.
The
Choir's performance at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia
was received with great joy by the audience.
Oh well - the
brief tour around the Pentagon parking lot at least provided a small
diversion. Our chagrined Navy escort (who turned out to be a recent
convert to the Church) soon had to admit over his hand radio that
it was he the culprit who had given approval to leave. "It was my
mistake, Sir." I worried that he was destined for court martial,
but as he later visited with his officer outside the bus I could
see a sheepish grin and knew that all was forgiven. He later told
us that the motto for this operation was similar to the Marines'
"Semper Fidelus" (always faithful), only with a slight modification:
"Semper Gumby" - always flexible! Probably an old military joke,
but it provided a nice laugh for us and helped keep the atmosphere
light.
Our bus driver
was able to find the inauguration ceremony on the radio, so we listened
to both the Vice Presidential and Presidential Swearing-in Ceremonies
as we waited. We also heard President Bush's Inauguration speech.
All of this again impressed upon us the magnitude of the historical
event in which we were participating.
Finally, a
police motorcycle brigade arrived to escort the bus convoy (there
were seven Tabernacle Choir buses along with many from the other
participants) into the city proper. Good - some action! I had never
had such an escort, and it was exciting to see motorcycles blocking
freeway entrances and pulling over cars in front of us to clear
the way. I could see how a little too much of this could give one
a swelled head. Our sense of importance evaporated quickly, however,
as the escort dumped us on a side street and disappeared, leaving
us to more interminable waiting.
Finally, at
around 1:30, we covered the final distance to where we disembarked
and walked a few more blocks in pouring rain to our float. The float
was simple, but impressive in its enormity. There were two flat
bed trailers, hooked together and pulled by a tractor. We sat eight
across on forward-facing benches in over 40 rows. There was only
one place to enter, so loading was lengthy and tedious. Those of
us who had listened to the experiences of prior inaugural participants
did not have trouble keeping warm. We wore layers of clothing under
our concert dress along with hats, gloves and long dark overcoats.
Each of us wore matching bright yellow plaid scarves to maintain
a sense of uniformity. As it turned out, the concert dress would
have been unnecessary, for although we had planned to remove our
outerwear while passing the President, it later proved to be impractical.
The boarding
of the float took on an almost comical nature as we squeezed together
in heavy rain, accompanied by the incessant barking of dogs. Dogs?
Yes - who should be right behind us but Susan Bucher of Alaskan
Iditarod fame along with her team of drenched doggies, howling in
discomfort and impatient to mush! Hurry up, we were told - you're
going to hold up the whole parade! Finally, loading complete, our
float crawled forward a couple of blocks to join the innumerable
bands and floats waiting for the parade to start.
At last there
was a break in the rain and we could lower our umbrellas. Though
clouds continued to threaten, conditions turned out to be not nearly
as bad as had been feared. But it was time to wait yet again, for
the parade would not begin for another hour or two, and we didn't
actually join it until around 4PM. The scene was colorful, with
bands, military formations, floats and flags everywhere to be seen.
A gigantic, noisy helicopter circled round and round over what I
presumed to be the White House, hidden from our view to the left.
To our right was the Capitol Building, still wearing multiple draped
flags from the Inaugural Ceremony. As I surveyed this scene I considered
what an incredible feeling it must be to be the man in whose honor
all these events were taking place. All around were the emblems
of a powerful nation, peacefully transferring its executive power.
Two lines awaited
entrance into the parade. The bands were to our left, and since
there seemed to be more of them than anything else, multiple bands
would pass before our line edged forward. Many were high school
bands whose cheerleaders, majorettes and drill teams were, for the
most part, dressed in scant clothing. Some of these poor girls were
shivering and crying, and this quickly awakened the mothering instincts
of female members of the Choir. Upon boarding our buses that morning
we had been handed packages of chemical hand warmers - small bags
that will stay warm for several hours once exposed to air. Advised
by our compatriots that these would be useful, most of us had already
brought our own supply, so there was a great surplus of them. Our
float suddenly became a dispensary as we distributed hand warmers
to the passing bands. Once they discovered what we were handing
out, the youths flocked to our side like birds to bread. I wondered
if the warmers would really be that much help, but later learned
that some of the girls said after the parade they'd never forget
the help from the "Warmin' Mormons".
At last it
was our turn to join the throng on Pennsylvania Avenue. At first,
confusion seemed to reign. Our float was equipped with a sound system
that was to play music we had recorded the prior Sunday, and to
which we would add our live voices. But it took a few minutes to
get things working. There were some glitches, including the almost
immediate failure of one of the four amplifiers. I found it to be
a little disappointing to tell the truth - the conditions were difficult
to say the least. But we gave it the very best we could and finally
got going, singing alternately, "America the Beautiful" and "God
Bless America". We would wave and smile to the crowd while rubbernecking
to try and catch a glimpse of Brother Jessop or Brother Wilberg's
conducting.
Parade
route was drenched in icy rain, wind and cold weather.
Though the crowd
was diminished by the bad weather, people along the parade route
sang along and waved back to us, and despite the tough conditions
we could see that many were moved and most were in a festive, patriotic
mood. People called down for our attention from windows and roofs
of the buildings above. Though there was the occasional negative
language of protesters towards us, the overwhelming reaction was
of enthusiasm. But when our brief moment in front of the President
finally arrived, it overshadowed everything leading up to it.
The White House
was almost last on the parade route. As we approached we could see
that the whole area was brightly lit, and just at that point the
rain started in earnest again. A sign indicated that bands should
stop playing for a time so as not to interfere with the sound of
those who were actually passing the President. Our float paused
for a moment, then turned the corner into the bright lights and
sped towards the reviewing stand as we launched into the closing
verse of "Battle Hymn." Finally we were singing something so familiar
that we hardly needed to glance at our conductor. We could look
to our left as we approached and then all-too-quickly passed our
new Commander in Chief and his entourage.
But what a
moment! I became oblivious to the rain as my eyes quickly drew to
President Bush and his father, our former President. Both stood
and moved forward as they smiled, waved, and even blew kisses to
us. They were not fifteen feet from where I sat. Indeed, had it
not been for the bulletproof glass it seemed I could almost have
touched them. Their response seemed genuinely affectionate, and
I felt a sudden surge of excitement and joy at the privilege of
being a participant in this monumental occasion. These emotions
swept away my earlier disappointment, and we finished the parade
a short time later still feeling an exuberant glow.
What to say
after that? We returned to the hotel by 7:30 and I did have one
more choice experience that day - dinner with my East-dwelling son
Joel, Daughter-in-law Kristin, and three month old Mandy the Wonder
Baby - my first grandchild. It was yet another event that ended
all too soon. Then off to bed with another early wake up call -
we had to pack and have our bags down to the bus at 5AM. Pulling
out at 6:15, we headed for our last task - the weekly "Music and
the Spoken Word" broadcast followed by a "Mini-Concert," again at
George Mason University.
It's always
a struggle to get going at Sunday Morning Rehearsal before the Broadcast,
but with two straight partial nights' sleep it seemed nigh unto
impossible this time. Brother Jessop exercised admirable restraint
in his complaints about our hideously drifting pitch and general
lack of energy. However, I suspect most were doing as I was - just
trying to survive the rehearsal, pray like mad for a boost of energy,
and save my remaining voice for the performance. When we have given
our all we know we can rely on the Lord to make up the difference,
and as always, He came through. The broadcast and concert were once
again filled with joy and the Spirit. We could board the buses one
last time and head for the airport feeling that we had accomplished
all that the Lord had asked of us. And how fitting to catch one
more glimpse of the Washington Temple - this time backed by a cold
but beautiful blue sky.
As we landed
in Salt Lake City, one last memorable event capped the experience.
Someone had playfully thrown a pillow that happened to catch and
remove one Brother's toupee. People in the back started giggling
and before we knew it, pillows were flying everywhere. The fire
of the majority finally concentrated on two particularly militant
Brethren in the center, and they were almost buried under a mountain
of pillows. Hopefully we can be forgiven for a Sabbath pillow fight
- it was a great stress reliever as we ended this hurried marathon
and walked out to the welcoming arms of our families.
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