Taking a job at a news station has allowed me to see and hear things I never would have been exposed to otherwise. Today my assignment was to travel to small a town called Manning, South Carolina where the high school band had been chosen to play during the inauguration. In this mostly black community, a certain magic was twinkling in the air, despite the rain that pelted the roofs and streets.

I stood with my camera, scoping out moments and scouting out potential interviewees. I've never seen a group of people more overjoyed than these students and their parents. I couldn't fully grasp it, and I never will know firsthand just how monumental this is for the black community. Obama's victory was a feat that many folks believed they would never live to see, and today as mothers and fathers watched their children from a small black town board a bus to the inauguration of the first black president, their dreams were shaping themselves, writhing and molding into reality. People were crying, thanking the Lord, mumbling about how they thought this would not happen in their lifetime. I could feel their energy, I could feel just how long they have been waiting for a day they'd passed off as wishful thinking.

These people love Obama the most. He is their beacon, their idol, their savior and their best friend. These people are placing their entire lives, their oppressive history, into the hands of one man. For Manning and for many other communities, one long painful chapter has finally been written and a joyous sequel is in the making. I couldn't help but smile as the buses pulled away en route to Washington. This was their moment. I'm glad I got to capture it.