What I saw last night.

I didn't have a camera, so you're going to have to take my word for it.

We paraded through Harlem last night. There were drum circles in front of the Apollo. Bus drivers stopped and opened their doors in the middle of the streets to let people hop on and celebrate. You heard police sirens and spontaneous screams and cheers, and saw hugs everywhere between everyone. You could still hear it outside for hours. We watched Obama accept the Presidency on a JumboTron in a plaza on 125th St; people cried, smiled, and posed for pictures. I saw a guy in a newsvan, shouting into a cell phone: "...too many of them!" Meanwhile, the cameraman just stood there looking amazed, his lens cap still on. People hanging out the windows of cars driving by banged pots and pans while others leaned out of third- and fourth-floor windows, shouting O-ba-ma, Yes-We-Can, or U-S-A where the crowd below cheerfully picked up the chant. Police starting herding traffic off the streets onto the sidewalks, and I saw one cop give a high-five to an enthusiastic passer-by. Everyone gave kisses so hard they hurt and hugs that were less hugs and more collapses from joy.

It was not the sort of thing I ever expected to see in my lifetime, in this country. A little more than 12 hours later, and it hardly feels real at all anymore.