Denver nomination truly a moment in American history

THEY judged him not by the colour of his skin but on the eloquence of his message, the command in his voice and the content of his policy.

They listened to his vision on how to end the jangling discord in their nation and left in symphony with a united prayer and flaring fireworks.

Because on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s defining civil rights speech, groundbreaking presidential hopeful Barack Obama gave America a moment it yearned for.

Borrowing the words of the slain preacher, Obama told the crowd they cannot turn back from the opportunity that had been presented.

“We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back,” he said. The nod to King came at the end of his own speech when a subdued beginning was forgotten in the soaring rhetoric he used to outline the country’s potential and also its responsibilities.

Earlier camera flashes dazzled, 75,000 American flags waved and Obama stepped forward from a synthetic Greek pantheon to become the first black man to accept a major party’s nomination to run for president.

He declared the election was not about him but about the people he represented and a chance to renew a promise to protect each other.

Burdened by the expectation of his previous lofty efforts Obama stood tall, spelled out his policy and as the speech went on he became more deliberate and his points more precise.

It was delivered in forceful tones, a marked difference from his ponderous performances of late.

Looking directly to camera he pledged not to raise taxes and to lead a more compassionate government.

He told Americans they cannot continue to blame politicians for every failure but instead take responsibility for making the changes necessary to improve the lives of their children.

And he challenged the assumption his Republican rival would make a better military leader.

“If John McCain wants to have a debate about who has the temperament, and judgment, to serve as the next commander-in-chief, that’s a debate I’m ready to have. John McCain likes to say that he’ll follow bin Laden to the gates of hell — but he won’t even go to the cave where he lives,” he said.

His effort to outline specific policy meant the words he used did not resonate as much as his performances during the primaries. However, none of those nights could compare to this with the sense of history dripping from the high open-topped stadium.

Afterwards the crowd delighted. They had been given what they came to see.

“He had a lot to do and he smashed through it,” said one man as he left the Mile High Stadium.

“You will tell your grandchildren about this,” a woman from Illinois told her yawning granddaughter.

Because those who witnessed the event had suffered their own ordeal.

Throughout the afternoon the scenes outside the stadium were like the papal visit to the Phoenix Park except with airport security at the end.

Mixed with searing heat, scant information and no facilities the crowd still laughed and joked during the three-hour shuffle through the metal detectors at the gates.

Inside they heard from singers Sheryl Crow, Stevie Wonder and a commemorative speech from Martin Luther King III.

And regardless of November’s election result even John McCain could not escape the sense of occasion.

He released an advert immediately after the acceptance speech in which he acknowledged that, in spite of the battle ahead, the nomination of Obama in Denver was truly a moment in history.