I am in Baltimore on my way home. Before we boarded my first flight in Louisville this evening, a woman stood at the gate and said, “Who is going to the march?” A number of ladies cheered, met each other and hugged.
Here in Baltimore the “people watching” in this airport has been amazing. There is more pink than I am able to count in all shapes, sizes, genders, ages and backgrounds. Others sit at a bar watching inaugural coverage intently. I walked past the America Store where a white woman was on a solitary rant; talking to no one but the full rack of shirts in front of her. The only intelligible words I could understand were “Get over it.”
An African American gentleman, who appeared to be getting off his shift from one of the fast-food venues, was approaching strangers using his big smile (missing teeth and all) saying, “Be blessed. You’re a saint. God loves you.” A white man in a golf shirt who was walking toward him put his arm around him, turned around with his luggage in tow and started walking with him the other direction. These apparent strangers were becoming fast friends.
Others were reading, charging their phones, or watching all of this happen; just like me.
Such a beautiful portrait of who we are.