In 1964 the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize, Cassius Clay became world heavyweight champion and Tampa Theatre still had a “whites only” admittance policy.
Fast-forward to 2009.
More than 1,000 locals — black and white, office workers, students and media — turned out at the 83-year-old downtown icon to collectively witness the televised inauguration of the first African-American president.
It was political theater within a movie palace. Now playing: “Revel With A Cause”: The re-told, updated story of America’s singular journey of ideals and ideas, however imperfect. This day it was still resonating.
History and jubilation were in the house. It was palpable.
Tampa lawyer Herb Berkowitz, 61, who was a Hillary Clinton delegate to the Democratic convention last summer, was equal parts sentimental and celebratory.
“I had planned on watching it at home on the couch with a glass of wine and crying unabashedly,” he said. “But tears of joy are best enjoyed with like-minded people.”
Now playing: A stirring reminder that while America’s destiny as a beacon for freedom — not geopolitics as usual — had been distorted and detoured, it had not been discontinued. If America could transcend the racial dishonor seemingly woven into its fabric, then there really were no limits to its ultimate greatness. Indeed, there was reason to expect that its best days might yet be ahead.
And no such epic moment could have credibly passed without Tampa’s own poet laureate, James Tokley. He is a Tampa Bay treasure. When this imposing black man reaffirms that “America still is hallowed ground,” it must be so.
The politics of euphoria prompted thunderous applause for Teddy Kennedy and Al Gore and a standing ovation for Barack Obama.
The ambience of history-meets-pep rally created its own hybrid dynamic.
The politics of payback induced a chorus of boos for Dick Cheney, which had to be some sort of precedent. Bronx cheers for a guy, albeit the quintessential neocon, in a wheel chair. Strangelovian.
The formal introduction of outgoing President George W. Bush was accompanied by the familiar stadium anthem that’s disdainfully aimed at losing teams: “Na, Na, Na, Na/ Na, Na, Na, Na/ Hey, Hey, Hey/ Goodbye.” It was not an occasion for pure, non-partisan nuance.
The only references to Bush that did elicit applause were an “Arrest Bush” sign and a shot of a van behind the White House that was obviously moving out the last of the Bushes’ belongings.
But these were knee-jerk reactions from a crowd that needed to emote more than gloat. It was much more about the history. And the moment. And the peaceful transfer of power. And the promise of a better tomorrow.
“Since I couldn’t be in D.C., I’m here,” said Gina, a 42-year-old black woman who didn’t feel at liberty to give her last name. That’s because she was “between meetings” at work, she coyly acknowledged with a wink. She was holding seats for two cousins.
“Of course it’s about the history,” explained Gina, “but that’s not all it’s about. Poverty comes in different colors. I think it’s everyday people who identify with Obama.”
For Jim Shirk, 65, a white civil engineer who had worked for Obama in Florida, it was the culmination of a campaign that had morphed from long-shot idealism to crowning, almost unfathomable, achievement.
“Imagine, this comes a day after MLK day,” he noted. “How’s this for an epic confluence of events? I’m here because I wanted to be part of an historic event and be with a lot of other Democrats who worked hard for this guy.”
And then there was Rodger King, 63, a white investor who came by to check out the scene.
“I was curious about what kind of crowd it was,” said King. “You could say it looks like America.
“I’m a staunch Republican,” pointed out King, “but I’m well pleased with Obama so far.”
King’s was the sort of sentiment — the pragmatic benefit of the doubt — that Obama has to hear more of. Not just the approving voices of true believers and party zealots. A sense of meaningful bi-partisanship isn’t merely preferable. It’s now a prerequisite if America is to move beyond parlous times and truly fulfill its unique destiny.
On balance, it was a very good start.
“This is a special moment for everyone, not just African-Americans,” said Clifford Gordon, a black 18-year-old in a Middleton High School jacket. “I mean Obama’s not just promising to make the black economy better. It’s everybody’s new era.”
Now playing: An African-American — who was three years old when blacks were finally admitted to Tampa Theatre — as the newly inaugurated 44th president of the United States.
Intercession Leads To More History
For Tampa Theatre to have opened its doors for a free showing of the historic, Barack Obama presidential inauguration was a natural. It has a big screen, some 1,400 seats and a community-outreach mandate. And it’s, well, full of history itself.
An obvious choice?
Tampa Theatre, which had hosted campaign events for George Bush Sr. and Bob Dole in the past, had never staged an inauguration viewing before. It took some outside intercession.
“(Tampa City Council member) Linda Saul-Sena called me and said ‘I have a great idea. Let’s show the inauguration,’” explained Tara Schroeder, Tampa Theatre’s director of programming and public relations.
“Initially, I wasn’t sure it was possible,” said Schroeder. “But I investigated, and it was doable. We had to rent a few wires, pick up a satellite feed and run it through a projector onto a screen. We pay for a satellite service.”
And with the concession stand open, Tampa Theatre didn’t lose money.
“This is not a profit-center day,” emphasized Schroeder. “This is a community day.”
So, once suggested, would there have been such a “community day” for a President McCain inauguration?
“Absolutely,” said Schroeder. “It’s wonderful for the community to come together. And it’s part of our responsibility to provide opportunities like this.”
But it’s problematic that Linda Saul-Sena would have made that call.