Last Night I Watched
by Jason Crane
Last night I watched an American president-elect on the television and cried. Next to me was my wife Jennifer, tears running down her cheeks.
Last night I watched the awakening of a nation that had all but given up on its principles and ideals.
Last night I watched Jesse Jackson hold one finger to his trembling lips as he wept, the marathon runner finally crossing the finish line.
Last night I watched John Lewis talk about the unbelievable road from “Whites Only” bathrooms to steel truncheons on the Edmund Pettis Bridge to the steps of the Capitol.
Last night I watched an actor from The Color Purple rest her chin on the shoulder of a friend as she watched an African-American man speak about his future presidency.
Last night I watched an ocean of joyful tears give a gentle lift to the ship that is America.
Last night I watched Walt Whitman as he knelt down and pulled a blade of grass from the rich earth, singing.
Last night I watched as Kenyans danced on dusty ground, arms raised toward the glorious sun.
Last night I watched as a crack opened in the wall, and looking through, I could see the glimmering field of stars.