A photojournalist observes ‘the quiet inauguration’

For many Americans, Jan. 20 was a day of celebration and high spirits. This young pair embraced in Washington, D.C., on Inauguration Day.
Photo by Anne Day

WASHINGTON, D.C. — What if they gave an inauguration and nobody came? Or, what if they gave an inauguration and the number of spectators was fewer than the 25,000 National Guard troops, hundreds of Secret Service agents, the entire Metropolitan DC police force, U.S. Park Police, U.S. Capitol Police, U.S. Border Patrol, FBI, police officers from states as far away as Texas, Minnesota, Illinois, Connecticut, New York and Pennsylvania and neighboring states like Maryland, Virginia, New York. They all came to ensure that our democracy could proceed. Makes one realize how significant this event was.
This inauguration of the 46th president, Joe Biden, was my seventh, this time with no credentials. I went as a tourist. I know Washington very well, and I have never seen the city so quiet.
After passing my early Tuesday morning rapid COVID-19 test in Torrington, I drove to D.C. and, that afternoon, I cruised around the city to determine where I would park the following day. The city was shut down. Most of the bridges were closed. All entrances to the Capitol, the Mall and the White House were blocked by huge concrete slabs, chain link fences topped with barbed wire. Police cars with flashing lights and camo-painted jeeps and trucks parked horizontally across the streets.
Undaunted, I set out the following morning walking on nearly empty streets except for police and National Guard. (I met one guardsman from Connecticut whose father manages a Cumberland Farms in Torrington.)
Stores were boarded up and the atmosphere was cold and gray and strange.
Eventually, I was able to find some pockets of people in free speech zones. Next to John Marshall Park, which was zoned for free speech, there was a bar with all of the doors and windows open, a television inside and a few hundred quiet, mask-wearing people gathered outside, to watch the president’s speech.
Mostly the area was filled with journalists, guardsmen, neighbors and police but there were some people from Texas with crosses, and signs that said, “Jesus Saves,” loitering about.
The small crowd watched in awe as Lady Gaga sang the national anthem and we stood quietly listening to the new president’s speech. We all sang our mask-muffled last verse of “Amazing Grace” along with Garth Brooks. The sun came out and the television got hard to see and except for one woman who said that Trump is the true president (she said that he is Jesus’ president) the crowd seemed to whoosh a collective sigh of relief as it sunk in: Biden is President.
After that, I wandered over to Black Lives Matter Plaza, which is a two-block stretch of 16th Street renamed by D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser after last summer’s protests.
Though the plaza is directly across from the White House there were plenty of barricades between us and the actual White House.
Not much was happening there. Large speakers were blaring Tracy Chapman singing “Talkin’ ’Bout a Revolution,” a pretty blonde shimmied through the crowd on an expensive-looking electric skateboard, journalists seemed to be interviewing each other on their smartphones, lots of Black Lives Matter flags and posters decorated the plaza but it was a calm cheerful crowd of a few hundred people milling about. Through the barricades and the barbed wire and up in the sky on the White House roof I spotted marksmen mixed in with cameramen.
Maybe this was the smallest inauguration in history, but it was one to ponder and remember.
Photographer Anne Day, formerly editor of The Lakeville Journal Co.’s Compass arts and entertainment, has been an official photographer for four presidential inaugurations, including the two inaugurations of Barack Obama, in 2009 and 2013.
For more photos, go to Instagram, @anneday13.

Vehicles and barriers cut off most visitors from the Capitol building during the Jan. 20 inauguration. Photo By Anne Day
CANAAN — It is with great sadness that we share the passing of Charles Lemmen, 87, of Canaan, on Jan. 1, 2026, after a long period of declining health.
Chuck was a loving father and husband with an inspiring and unquenchable work ethic. He gave much back to his community through his volunteering, including to the Canaan Historical Society, the Falls Village Library, and Music Mountain. He was a voracious reader, especially historical works, a hobby eclipsed only by his love for classical music which he exercised at every opportunity. He also loved to travel, a penchant that took him to Italy, Scandinavia, and as far afield as Antarctica.
Chuck was predeceased by his wife of 58 years, Barbara, his sister Gwendolyn Kraay, his brother Robert, and his grandson Kevin Whitley. He is survived by his daughters Barbara Lemmen (husband Geoff Nunes) and Nicola Whitley, his son Stuart Lemmen (wife Jen Margo), and his grandchildren Hannah Whitley, Sidney Nunes, Alex Nunes, and Elijah Lemmen.
He was born in Holland, Michigan, May 19, 1938, to Benjamin and Lucille (Vander Werf) Lemmen, where he also grew up. He graduated from Hope College in 1960 and Case Western Reserve University in 1968.
Chuck was a philosophy and logic professor, an insurance agent, and then a computer programmer for Edward R. Hamilton Bookseller in Falls Village for over 40 years.
He was a self-taught roofer, carpenter, vegetable gardener and builder which helped to raise his family of five over so many years.
Arrangements were handled by the Cremation Society of New England. A memorial service will be held later this year.
In lieu of flowers donations may be made to Tanglewood or the Connecticut Food Bank.
NEW PRESTON — Edwin A. French III passed away on Jan. 31, at St. Mary’s Hospital in Waterbury after a brief illness. Born July 16, 1951, in North Adams, Massachusetts, he was the eldest child of the late Edwin and Barbara French II. He grew up in Greenwich and attended Greenwich Country Day, Rye Country Day, and Greenwich High School.
Ed served as a volunteer firefighter and later as a decorated Greenwich police officer, also playing bagpipes with the Emerald Society Police Band.
After retiring, he lived in Sherman, Kent and New Preston, Connecticut.
Independent and adventurous, he loved hunting, fishing, traveling, and sharing stories—especially of his motorcycle trip to Alaska. He was always ready to help friends and family.
He is survived by his sons; Steven (Francis) and Marc (Mary); his brothers David (Charlene) and Daniel (Cheryl); several grandchildren, nieces, and nephews; and his brother‑in‑law Steve Gerwin.
He was predeceased by his sister Faye Gerwin.
A private memorial will be held at the family’s convenience. Donations may be made to the American Liver Foundation at liverfoundation.org
CORNWALL — Tim Prentice, architect turned kinetic sculptor, died at home in Cornwall on Nov. 25, 2025, at the well-lived age of 95.
Born in New York City on Guy Fawkes Day in 1930, Tim was the son of Theodora (“Dody”) Machado and architect Merrill Prentice. That same year, his parents bought a 150-year-old house in Cornwall, and Tim’s connection with the town as his lifelong “spiritual home” began.
He attended Rumsey Hall in Cornwall Village, the Brooks School, and Yale College. While at Brooks, a field trip to the Addison Gallery in Andover proved quietly decisive: in the lobby hung a mobile by Alexander Calder, which moved in response to otherwise invisible air currents. Tim was riveted. Decades later, that moment would resurface as destiny.
Graduate school was postponed by four years of Navy service during the Korean War. Tim served as a bombardier navigator with the Sixth Fleet, flying off aircraft carriers on grueling eleven-hour missions and navigating using a demanding three-star fix, an experience that left him with a sailor’s respect for wind, balance, and motion.
After the war, he returned to Yale, earning a Master’s degree at the School of Art and Architecture. He studied with the modernist Paul Rudolph and took Josef Albers’s famed color class not once, but twice.
In 1960, Tim married Marie Bissell in her parents’ backyard in Canton, Connecticut. Both were enthusiastic amateur folksingers. In 1963, they were sent by the State Department on a goodwill journey through Asia and East Africa, guitar and banjo in hand, sharing and gathering new melodies to carry home.
In 1965, back in New York City, Tim co-founded the award-winning architectural firm Prentice & Chan with Lo-Yi Chan from I.M. Pei’s office. Among many projects, Lo-Yi designed middle-income housing for NY State, and Tim designed houses in Connecticut.
During this time, Tim also became a member of MOMA’s Committee on Architecture and Design and President of the Municipal Art Society, where he helped lead a successful campaign to save Grand Central Terminal from demolition.
In 1975, Tim left the firm to pursue his new career in sculpture in the living room of his apartment and, on weekends, in a century-old ice shed on their farm in Cornwall. He taught architecture at Columbia and continued to design and remodel houses in the Cornwall area — over 60 all told. His architecture balanced international modernism with a deep affection for the plainspoken New England barn and, often, a wry sense of humor. Among his creations were a pool house shaped like a miniature Parthenon, complete with Elgin Marbles rendered in plywood, and a new house masquerading as a renovated hay barn.
Tim’s big break came in 1976 with a nearly three-ton commission for AT & T. More than 150 commissions followed throughout the U.S. and the world. Ranging from the 230-foot-long ‘Red Zinger’ in Hartford’s Bradley Airport to a set of turning circles for Renzo Piano’s Aurora Place in Sydney, Australia. He also made dozens of smaller sculptures that sold like hotcakes at local shows and exhibits.
In the mid-1980’s, Tim and Marie moved to Cornwall full-time and became involved with local affordable housing initiatives.Tim co-founded the Cornwall Housing Corporation (CHC), organized the annual House Tour benefit, and designed several houses for the CHC’s parcel program. Additionally, he spearheaded an unsuccessful but passionate effort to save the Greek Revival Rumsey Hall building in Cornwall Village, which, prior to demolition, was listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
In 2012, Tim and longtime associate David Colbert formed Prentice Colbert, Inc., to continue the adventure of making large-scale site-specific pieces.
A monograph, Drawing on the Air, was published in 2012. Tim received the Connecticut Governor’s Arts Award in 2014 and was honored in 2021 with a solo exhibit at the Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum in Ridgefield.
In the 1990’s, Tim developed macular degeneration, but he never stopped working as his eyesight diminished.In 2024, the American Macular Degeneration Foundation’s Vision & Art Project premiered a film about his life, aptly titled The Air Made Visible.
Whimsy, playfulness and music were an important part of Tim’s life. For decades, he created an annual calendar for family and friends and was a frequent illustrator for the Cornwall Chronicle, where his drawings tended to skewer local issues. The Prentice barn was legendary for everything but cows: instruments constructed out of plywood and PVC tubing, concerts, picnics, weddings, art shows, memorials, anniversaries, birthdays, songfests, family reunions, raucous hootenannies, and even as a test site for a‘bolt-together’ house.
He is survived by his two daughters, Nora and Phoebe, and by his adored grandchildren, Zeke and Zed Homer. His infinitely beloved wife, Marie, predeceased him in 2018.
One of Tim’s favorite reflections captures the arc of his life:
The engineer wants to minimize friction to make the air visible.
The architect studies matters of scale and proportion.
The sailor wants to know the strength and direction of the wind.
The artist wants to understand its changing shape.
Meanwhile, the child wants to play.
Donations can be made to: The Cornwall Housing Corporation: P.O. Box 174, Cornwall, CT 06753
No memorial is planned yet.
Thank you to all of Tim’s great caregivers.
FALLS VILLAGE — Michael English passed away peacefully on Jan. 17, 2026.
Michael was born in Queens, New York, on Oct. 19, 1961, to Anita and Thomas English. Michael was in a hurry and he arrived a bit early with his red hair, big bright blue eyes, and a bit of a temper. He was the 6th of 9 children.
Michael spent his life trying to see where he fit in and was very happy living in Falls Village.
He had a big heart, an infectious laugh, and was happiest when cooking for others. He enjoyed working at Snack Shack and The Boathouse. He loved Thanksgiving and feeding all those who came together for community dinners at Pilgrim House.
He had two passions: the NY Yankees and playing golf. If he was watching Yankees baseball, he would block out everything and everyone and cheer them on. As far as golf goes, he probably wasn’t as good as he told everyone he was. He had the gift of gab.
You would think he kissed the Blarney Stone. Michael liked to tell stories with and without his (fake) Irish Brogue.
Michael was predeceased by his parents Anita and Thomas, and his brothers Brian and Stephen.
He is survived by his siblings; Kenneth, Maureen, Patricia Siantos (Apostolos), Donna Fanning (Mike), Christopher (Claudia), and Philip as well as 16 nieces and nephews. A memorial service will be held in the spring and Michael’s final resting place will be at St. Charles Cemetery in Farmingdale, New York. Kenny Funeral Home has care of arrangements.