The evening arrived in a fashion so different from the day. It was a gloomy setting in the city; windy, damp, fog blanketing the atmosphere. It was rather eerie. My mother had even commented on the irony that this night be so dark in the nation's capital after such a successful day for the country. At around seven-thirty my mother, two brothers, and I rode into the city to Ford's Theatre, the hall where the night's entertainment was to take place. We had read in the papers that the President himself was going to be there, and I was excited over the possibility of seeing him. I wanted to be out front when he arrived, as to get a good look at him. But the time came for the play to begin, and he had yet to arrive. Greatly disappointed, I accompanied my family to our seats.
The play started out very well. Harry Hawke was playing a rough American backwoodsman, and his support came from Laura Keene as his cousin. I had heard wonderful things about both of these actors, and so far they were living up to their reputations. But around eight-thirty or so, the play was halted. All of a sudden the crowd jumped up and began cheering while the orchestra played Hail To The Chief. The President, his wife, and two others finally arrived, and they snuck along the back and through a hallway to the "Presidential" box, or at least that is what it would be this night. My vantage point was poor, for I was half way between the back row and the front of his balcony seat on the right hand side, so I wasn't able to see much of him or his wife. I could tell that his box, which overlooked the stage, was decorated with regimental and United States flags. I was glad to know he was finally there, and as far as I was concerned, the night could finally proceed!
