On the afternoon of January 6, 2021, the loudspeaker in the Senate Press Gallery crackled with a dire warning, and a voice echoed to me as I sat at my desk in the Capitol announcing a lockdown.
“External security threat,” I scribbled on my notepad, writing down what I heard. “Stay away from exterior windows and doors.” and “Look for a hiding place.”
That's how I learned four years ago that something had gone wrong, something very wrong, during a typically perfunctory event at the Capitol: the certification of the presidential election results.
January 6th of this year marks a routine step in the peaceful transfer of power, when Congress formally approves what has already been decided in a constitutionally mandated, legally prohibited, and democratic election. returned to the state of
In the aftermath of the riot, some Republican lawmakers sought to recast the day as a peaceful protest or even a regular tour. Trump vowed to pardon those charged with taking part and called the day a “day of love.”
In many ways, the country and Congress have moved forward. There are fewer references to the violence of four years ago. Democrats, who once said they could not work with so-called election deniers, now feel they need to work with Republicans, who control every lever of government after Trump takes office on January 20. There is.
Mr. Trump, who was trying to rewrite history on that dark day, has legally returned to the presidency. Polls show Americans still condemning the attacks, but still prefer him to Democrats on issues like the border and the economy.
But it's worth remembering what it was like on January 6, 2021, when the Capitol withstood the largest attack since the War of 1812, and reflecting on how different things were on Monday.
After the loudspeaker announced the lockdown four years ago, I jumped out of my chair in the Senate press gallery on the third floor of the Capitol and watched as a horde of Trump supporters poured toward the building, kicking over bike racks. I saw them stomping on buildings. Site maintained in its natural state. I've covered large-scale protests before, but they took a decidedly darker, more violent turn.
This year, the Capitol grounds have been mostly quiet and deserted, covered in snow from a major winter storm, but have been fortified and largely closed off to the public by huge black fences, and demonstrators have been unable to attend. It kept away people and any signs of chaos.
At the time, I ran into the Senate gallery overlooking the chamber, where senators, many in their 80s, were gathered, protected by Capitol Police officers. Panic could be felt building in the chamber as aides locked the doors in case the mob broke in. Sen. Amy Klobuchar, D-Minnesota, looked at her phone and yelled, “Shots fired!” Alert your colleagues to the increased danger.
It was later learned that a Capitol Police officer shot and killed a rioter outside the House chamber.
On Monday, Klobuchar was among the members of Congress who took part in the reading of each state's electoral votes to certify Trump's election victory. She quietly declared that all the books she read were “formal and authentic,” and the count continued uninterrupted.
Vice President Mike Pence was presiding over the Senate in 2021 when security officials rushed him from the chamber as police began pressuring senators to evacuate as the mob closed in. kicked out. “We have to move, Senator,” one officer said. said New York Sen. Chuck Schumer, clutching his chest. Police helped the elderly senator get up from his desk and exit through a side door.
Several reporters from the balcony began calling into the chamber below, asking where to go. “What about us?!”
We were guided through the Capitol's labyrinthine underground tunnel system.
As lawmakers and staff scrambled outside, some Senate aides tried to snatch the box containing the Electoral College certificate, making sure vandals couldn't literally steal the election results.
More than an hour after the riot began, I was finally reunited with my phone, which I had hastily placed on my desk outside the Senate chamber. Text messages poured in from colleagues, editors, and friends, some begging her to reply and let her know she was okay.
It wasn't until later that I learned that we had left the chamber just a little ahead of the mob.
On Monday, things were very different. As Schumer sat and watched, Harris stoically and smoothly orchestrated her defeat without interruption, declaring, “Our allegiance is to the Constitution and the rule of law.” The mahogany box containing the electoral votes was in place on the House podium.
Reporters sat looking down from the Senate gallery, tapping away on their laptops with no sign of danger.
Sen. Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, a former Republican leader, also did not come to the Capitol to witness Monday's proceedings. Four years ago, he gave a scathing speech on the Senate floor, warning that if Republicans followed Trump's lie that the election was stolen, democracy would be sent into a “death spiral.” That was just before security guards actually lifted him off his feet as they tried to move him away from the rioters who had invaded the Senate.
Shortly after, I finally made it to safety and sat down on the floor, feeling more anger than fear.
Thousands of people came into one of the most important places in American democracy to break windows, vandalize offices, and injure people in what they thought was a just cause. , the place was built on lies.
As a journalist, my role was clear. I opened my laptop.
In that safe confines, I and other members of the media fulfilled our constitutional obligations under the First Amendment. We weren't heroes. The title goes to the Capitol Police and Metropolitan Police Department officers who fought off the attackers and ultimately ensured the transfer of power between the presidential administrations that day. Over the next few months, I got to know some of them.
But we did our job as best we could. The room was filled with members of tactical law enforcement teams carrying long guns.
In a secure room adjacent to ours, senators began talking in hushed voices about whether and how to proceed with the electoral count. As I would later learn, that night, the moment I decided to return to the Senate chamber to finish counting the votes, I heard an eruption of applause.
“We have no hesitation in getting the job done,” Ms. Klobuchar told me at the time.
It will take several hours for lawmakers to certify Joseph R. Biden Jr.'s victory. Some Republicans continued to oppose the former vice president's victory.
The session finally ended at 3:41 a.m. on January 7, about 14 hours after it started.
On Monday, the same task took 30 minutes.
