In every town across a huge, humbled nation, the scene was repeated today - in classrooms, in cloisters, in town squares and corporate cafeterias, in coffee shops and senior centers.

Americans gathered, clapped, cheered, laughed, wept or listened in rapt silence as Barack Obama took the oath of office as president of our nation, enacting for the 44th time the miracle of representative democracy that began in Philadelphia, our city, more than two centuries ago.

WHYY’s Civic Space was one of those places, and what better spot in the city could there have been to experience the moment, in sight of Independence Hall, square across Sixth Street from the center that celebrates our founding charter?

Here is how the moment looked, tasted and felt for the 200-plus gathered there to watch the PBS coverage on several big screens, and a few smaller ones as well:

They start arriving before 11, the WHYY members invited to share the moment, their faces ruddy, their exhaled breaths visible as they step through the door, smiles that simply wouldn’t fade on their faces.

Some refreshments are on offer, soft pretzels and Tastykakes and hot soups, but the servers don’t do a brisk business. People have a job to prepare for, to be citizen witnesses to a moment they have looked toward for a long time - some for a hard lifetime. The mood is one of subdued merriment. Many have tissues and handkerchiefs at the ready.

Around 11:40, the well-known strains of “Hail to the Chief” sound. Jim Lehrer of PBS notes that this is the last time the song will announce the entrance of George Walker Bush as a sitting president. Someone erupts in a cry of delight, and the rest of the crowd cheers and giggles.

A camera shows Joe Biden waiting to go out onto the Capitol steps. Cheers and strong applause.

At noon, Lehrer announces that, technically, under the 20th Amendment, Barack Hussein Obama is president of the United States, even though the ceremony is lagging and he’s late to the oath, scheduled for noon.

The crowd in the Civic Space stands and cheers; some people clasp their hands together, gazing at the big screen in wonder. A pig-tailed African-American girl bounced around in her mother’s joyful arms, a look like Christmas on her face. A few flags wave; tears course down a few cheeks.

Aretha Franklin’s appearance draws a huge cheer; her headwear some indulgent chuckles. A pleased gasp from this art-loving crowd greets the sight of Yo-Yo Ma’s beaming visage, and Itzhak Perlman’s furrowed brow.

Finally, Obama takes the oath; rather, he stumbles through it, following the ham-handed lead of Chief Justice John Roberts, who bungles his first chance at his most public job.

A few titters greet the missteps, but the room is mostly silent.

This crowd, hundreds of miles distant from the Capitol steps, connected only by a digital thread, still punctuates Obama’s speech regularly with applause. The need to feel part of this history, to mark it, to store it into memory just as those shivering on the mall are doing, is palpable.

The first big applause line here comes when Obama says of the hefty challenges he just outlined, “They will be met.” When he refers to the Scripture verse about childish things, that’s greeted by laughter and nodding heads, as well as applause - just as in a North Philly pew on Sunday.

His line about America picking itself up, cleaning off the dust and getting to work receives thunderous clapping. His gracious bow to the service of his predecessor gets no applause, a few titters.

His lines dismissing cynics who haven’t noticed how the ground has shifted get a strong burst of applause.

But then the room grows mostly quiet and stays so until the end. Is Obama’s speech failing to rise to the impossible expectations that have latched onto it like a weighty anchor - or is it just that the nation’s greatest orator is weaving his latest spell?

As Obama rises to his peroration, quoting Thomas Paine, whose words Washington ordered read to the American people while he wintered at Valley Forge, the room is still.

He concludes. The room waits a beat; is he really done? This moment, dreamed of, hoped for, worked for, planned for, imagined and anticipated with such fierce desire - is it really over?

It is.

Another beat. Then hands clap one against the other, over and over and over, in hope, in joy, in worry, in relief. The ovation lasts a minute.

The presidency of George W. Bush is over. The unimaginable presidency of Barack Hussein Obama has begun.

It is real. Soon enough, it will become mired in the quotidian, cantankerous realm of complex proposals, endless hearings, showdown votes, overseas crises, scandals du jour and thwarted dreams.

But no one who saw its first moment will ever forget where they were, how the weather was, how the music sounded, and how America’s first black president looked as he called his nation to its work.