Going to an inaugural ball is a bona fide thrill, falling somewhere on the Cool Life Experience Scale between a Hollywood premiere and a coronation. At least, that's what everyone figures. And it's true.
Well, sort of true.
"I think it is a once-in-a-lifetime event, no matter how horrid it might be," says Carl Sferrazza Anthony, author of "America's First Families." "Like so much in Washington, it's an issue of perception and reality, symbolism and fact."
Perception: An elegant dinner-dance filled with sophisticated political types dropping clever one-liners.
Reality: A massive political prom with no food, overpriced drinks, no place to sit, and thousands of twentysomethings drinking beer and yelling "Boo-yah!"
And yet, so many people want to go. Over the past 200 years, the inaugural ball has evolved from a mere party to a mythological event. People who hate the idea of a formal affair frantically try to score a ticket to one of the balls. How did this happen?
Blame television. But first, a little history.
George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson did not have balls celebrating their inaugurations. There were dinners and dances in their honor, but no event designated as the official inaugural party.
The first "official" ball in Washington was held at Long's Hotel for James Madison's inauguration in 1809. "That first inaugural ball was what people envision when they think of an inaugural ball," says Anthony.
The elegant affair was open to the public (there was a notice in the paper and an entrance fee at the door). Guests arrived to find the new president and his wife, the famed hostess Dolley Madison, sitting on a platform overlooking the dance floor. "The dancing style was much more formal than it is today," says Marvin Kranz, an American history specialist at the Library of Congress. The dancing was followed by a formal supper, and the standard was set.
For the next century, each president was honored with a "ball" of some kind, in addition to other receptions and parties. A popular site in the 19th century was Carusi's Assembly Rooms, where John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson and James Polk held their celebrations.
The purpose behind these affairs was less political than social: Washington society's introduction to the new administration. Local social leaders planned and staffed the balls, which were sponsored by local businesses. The balls were considered important enough that President Lincoln continued the tradition despite the Civil War.
The balls took a turn for the worse with Ulysses Grant. In 1869, his packed ball was marred by food fights and incompetent coat checkers. (Some things never change.) His second inaugural ball in 1873, however, gets the award for the most macabre: A muslin tent was erected on Judiciary Square, which in no way was adequate for the bitterly cold night. Canaries intended to sing sweetly for the guests instead froze to death and fell onto the dance floor, where guests were dancing in their coats and boots.
By 1885, the massive Pension Building -- with its grand marble columns -- became the favorite venue for the balls. Now housing the National Building Museum, it was the perfect site for the men and women of the Gilded Age, and the parties continued without incident through William Howard Taft's bash in 1909.