At 6:20 a.m. on the day the world changed, it was so dark in the parking lot of the suburban church that you could make out the signs, “Vote Here,” only when they loomed in the headlights. The voter was surprised to find the lot so full of cars that he needed a few moments to find a space. Strange. That had never happened on Election Day.

Then he saw the long gray line, maybe 100, maybe more, shivering in the pre-dawn chill. There was an ethereal, ghost-line quality to them. The voter fell into line behind a father and son, the father fidgeting and looking at his watch. Within moments, the voter turned and saw that 20, maybe 25, had fallen in behind.

And so began a glorious, wondrous, magical American day that reached its climax at 11 p.m. that night in Chicago’s Grant Park, when Barack Obama made his first appearance as President-elect of the United States before a roaring, adoring, soaring crowd estimated at 100,000.

The unbridled joy was palpable in homes around the nation, pouring through the TV screens and into our hearts. Everybody was laughing or crying or both at the same time. And Obama, eloquent as ever, hit all the right notes in a speech that invoked visions of the sainted martyrs we hold most dear — Lincoln, the Kennedys, and Dr. King.

He reached out to the supporters of his Republican opponent, John McCain, and promised that he would be “your president, too.” It was a nice touch reciprocated by a weary McCain, suddenly looking every one of his 72 years, in a gracious acceptance speech in which he called Obama “my president” and pledged to support him.

In one of the sweetest touches of all, showing the humor and humanity that has endeared him to Americans of all backgrounds, Obama didn’t forget to promise his daughters a puppy to take to the White House.

Read the Rest after the Jump. . .

For African-Americans old enough to remember the ugly days of segregation, Obama’s election was Dr. King’s dream made real. Finally, 143 years after the end of the Civil War, America had reached the point where it could judge a man not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character.

The TV cameras caught Jesse Jackson, weeping.

As the writer Mark Coomes reminded us, Jackson was there on the balcony of the Lorraine Hotel in Memphis the night Dr. King was assassinated. Say what you will about him, but give him credit for being a soldier in the struggle for equality, opportunity, and justice. His work helped pave the way for Barack Obama.

Watching at home, the voter remembered many of the African-American coaches, athletes, politicians, educators, businessmen, and ministers he had encountered during his 65 years. He remembered how, for the most part, they had endured discrimination and prejudice with amazing grace and dignity.

He could only imagine how full their hearts must have been as they watched Obama smile and wave at the crowd. The son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas, he is the face of a new America, a place where diversity is honored instead of ignored.

The voter thought about his granddaughters, whose had been taken to the polls by their parents. Even the little one, the 3-year-old, could say “Obama.” Someday they will tell their kids about the day that changed the world. By that time, God willing, the United States will again be the nation of our hopes and dreams, at least partly because of the good work done by the Obama administration.

Obama accepted the people’s mandate – and that’s what it was, no matter what the propaganda ministers of right-wing radio might say – with a combination of humility, courage, and resolve. He didn’t promise miracles or quick fixes. He talked instead about the need for hard work, sacrifice, and unity.

His task is formidable, nigh impossible. He must bring together a nation crippled by the lies, deceit, and arrogance of the previous administration. He must revive idealism in a nation where cynicism reigns. He must regain the trust of our allies, rebuild our economy, extract us from immoral wars, rework our tax structure, address the health-care crisis, and turn around a system of public education that has become a national embarrassment.

But, somehow, the man inspires hope.

It’s not so much his intelligence, although that’s formidable. It’s not even his eloquence, although he knows how to mesmerize. It’s that he exudes the sort of honesty, integrity, and simple decency that Americans treasure. For all his inspiring rhetoric, he also has some plain-talking Harry Truman in him.

But let’s be clear. Obama is not a miracle-worker. He is not perfect. He will face partisan obstructionists in the Congress, implacable critics in the media, and disenchanted supporters whose lives are not immediately made better. He will ask sacrifices of young Americans who have been enslaved by materialism and malaise.

He will make his share of mistakes. But everything about him argues that they will be honest mistakes born of good intentions – not arrogant ones born of self-interest. Even among those who can’t accept it as an article of faith that he will not betray us, he at least has earned the benefit of the doubt.

Eight years into the new millennium, the winds of change, good change, are blowing in America. We can feel it on our mountain tops and in our river valleys, in the concrete canyons of  the big cities and the Main Streets of our rural towns, in our neighborhoods and schools.

And let’s not forget our houses of worship. By all accounts, Obama is a spiritual man who respects all religions. He believes in religious tolerance, not dogmatic narrow-mindedness. His runningmate, Joe Biden, will be the nation’s first Roman Catholic Vice-President. They will practice what they preach, and what they preach is religious tolerance and inclusion.

The future beckons, and now we can embrace it with hope instead of dreading it with fear. With Obama as President, we can be free to follow the better angels of our nature.  At the end of the day that changed the world forever, it was a fine time, indeed, to be an American.