WASHINGTON — Khari Reed walked into the Obama Home States Ball and whipped out his camera.
"I wanted to take a picture of the scene," said Reed, 35, who is director of medical affairs at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. "I wanted to take a picture of the scene walking in the door. There are a lot of people who can't be here -- my mom, my dad, my uncles . . . my little cousins."
So what if inaugural balls are a little like a senior prom? This one was in the Washington Convention Center. People walked in -- a two-block walk in the sub-freezing cold from the security checkpoint outside to the entrance. They lined up, beaming, to have their pictures taken in front of an official inauguration seal. Then they lined up to buy drink tickets.
The friends, fundraisers, campaign volunteers and former high school classmates of Barack -- then Barry -- Obama not only didn't care that it was in a big hall with a cash bar, they thought it was fun.
"It's a dress-up party for grown-ups," said Marie Fioramonti, 47, a Chicago fund manager swathed in a dark, slinky dress with a train.
As for whether she'd get a chance to chat with the king and queen of the prom -- Barack and Michelle -- she said, "I don't think any of us are expecting a lot of private time."
That's good, because the guests barely got any public time -- less than 10 minutes.
The Obamas swept in and the guests crowded near the stage, snapping photos of the new first couple -- he in white tie, she in a cream one-shoulder gown.
"This is a special ball because it represents our roots -- Hawaii, Illinois -- together," the new president said.
The Obamas danced one brief slow dance -- the languid "At Last" made famous by Etta James -- and the crowd hung on their every move. He twirled her; the crowd cheered. The couple nuzzled foreheads; the crowd roared.
The Obamas grinned at each other -- were they chuckling at their tentative dance skills or just reveling in the fact that they were there, at last?
Obama cut the dance short with a wave of his hand. The new first lady gathered up the full skirt of her gown and stepped into the wings. Then they were off.
It was barely 9:30 p.m. Guests who arrived late never saw the first couple at all.
"I wanted to see them dance," said a disappointed Denise Taylor, 33, a program coordinator at Georgia Tech. "Maybe they'll come back." (That would be extraordinary -- if not unprecedented.)
