Barack Obama, Victory

OBAMA FOR USA. When Senator Barack Obama stepped from his plane on the final ride of his presidential candidacy and loped to the bottom of the stairs, he did something he had not done at the end of any of the thousands of miles logged on this journey.

He saluted.

A group of his campaign workers had gathered at Midway Airport in Chicago to watch him arrive from his last trip, a short hop from nearby Indiana. Given the day, as Mr. Obama raised his hand to offer his gratitude, it looked a lot like a gesture from a commander in chief.

In the final hours of a 22-month campaign, he quickly moved on to an Election Day tradition that is rooted in a sweaty superstition: basketball. Twice in his primary fight with Hillary Rodham Clinton he skipped his afternoon game on the day ballots were cast. And both times he lost.

So at 2:45 p.m. Mr. Obama arrived at a gymnasium on the West Side, aptly named Attack Athletics. For two hours, he ran up and down the court with Senator Bob Casey, Democrat of Pennsylvania, who had become a good friend, along with a close group of Chicago pals who assembled to help take his mind off the other events of the day.

When he went to vote with Michelle and their two daughters on Tuesday morning, he had narrowly missed another familiar face at his polling place. Bill Ayers, the former member of the radical Weather Underground who became a central figure in the attacks from John McCain and Sarah Palin, had dropped by to vote a few minutes earlier.

By nightfall, thousands of his admirers streamed into Grant Park for the celebration. At a nearby hotel, he took one more pass through his speech, while commentary about his future played on television sets in the background.

Celebrities, including Oprah Winfrey, gathered in a tent to await the candidate.

As Ohio was called for Mr. Obama, a roar sounded from the 125,000 people gathered in Hutchison Field in Grant Park. It was the last state needed to put Mr. Obama over the top. But the networks waited to make their calls until 11 p.m., Eastern time, when polls in California and on the West Coast closed. The candidate waited to watch Mr. McCain's gracious concession speech, in which he praised the president-elect as a fellow American and paid homage to the racial barrier just fallen.

"This is a historic election, and I recognize the significance it has for African-Americans and for the special pride that must be theirs tonight," Mr. McCain said, adding, "We both realize that we have come a long way from the injustices that once stained our nation's reputation."

Finally, looking a bit exhausted, Mr. Obama stood at the lectern, looking over a vast undulating sea of screaming humanity of all races, waving American flags. "What a scene, what a crowd," he said, shaking his head. "Wow." He took a long drink out of the water bottle inside the lectern.

With a bank of flags at his back, he told the screaming, dancing crowd, "If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer."

"It's been a long time coming," the president-elect added, "but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment, change has come to America."

Not only had he captured the presidency, but he also led his party to sharp gains in Congress. This put Democrats in control of the House, the Senate and the White House for the first time since 1995, when Bill Clinton was in office.

Spontaneous parties erupted on streets across America. At 2 a.m., about 20 revelers from Times Square congregated outside The New York Times's new headquarters on Eighth Avenue, waiting for newspapers to mark the historic occasion. When a senior editor appeared with a bundle of early editions, the crowd went nuts and began taking her picture holding the newspaper with the simple headline that captured their joy: OBAMA.

Oceans away in Jakarta, a young Indonesian student, attending the same public school where Mr. Obama's mother had sent him, was hoisted aloft on the shoulders of his joyous schoolmates, waving his shirt in the air. It was a picture repeated elsewhere around the globe, especially in Kenya, where some members of Mr. Obama's more distant family made plans to attend the inauguration.

At Obama headquarters in Albany, Ga., where as a part of the nascent civil rights movement she had been beaten back with tear gas and billyclubs, Rutha Mae Harris could not hold back her tears any longer, the emotions of a lifetime released in a flood.

"Glory, glory, hallelujah," she sang.