As I sat cross legged on my friend's worn carpet, looking up at Obama's face I felt filled with hope. I thought about September 11, and how every year on it's anniversary in school we talk about where we were and how it made us feel at that time. I was so young, I don't remember where I was. But, as I watched the first African-American take his place as leader of our country I knew that I would never forget this day, this moment, this feeling I had. The power it seemed to hold over all of us. Tears streamed down my fathers face, and hundreds of miles away in Mexico on vacation, my 18 year old brother would cry his own tears when he heard the news, writing about it in an email he sent me. He said, "There is finally a little hope ya kno...". I know. This election is one of the amazing landmarks that I will live through, and, maybe, someday, my brother and I will tell our children and grandchildren about the first African-American, about the hope he restored in our Country, and our lives.