The January 6th Committee is vital to ensuring the safety of all who work in the Capitol

While U.S. Capitol Police officers fought insurrectionists on Jan. 6, I locked myself inside the Capitol complex, concerned for my country, city, and personal safety. I’d thought that the Capitol was the safest place I could be on the day Donald Trump called his followers to D.C. I was wrong. 

I spent Jan. 6 hidden inside the office of my boss, Del. Eleanor Holmes Norton (D-D.C.), as footsteps echoed through the halls outside. After experiencing the Capitol attack alone, I wanted to create a space for Capitol employees to talk about their experiences, so I – along with my friend Capitol Police (USCP) Officer Harry Dunn – launched a support group for the Capitol community to collectively process that painful day and achieve a measure of peace moving forward. 

The House Select Committee on the January 6 attack has undertaken a similar mission, allowing the entire country to process what happened on Jan. 6. The Committee’s decision last week to subpoena former President Trump to testify represented a historic moment, the culmination of the committee’s work to reveal the role played by Donald Trump, whom Committee Chairman Bennie Thompson (D-Miss.) called “the one person at the center of the story of what happened on Jan. 6.” 

I’m grateful for the committee’s work in bringing truth to light. In making the horrific details public, we can hold the perpetrators of the Capitol attack publicly accountable and begin the work of healing. 

Watching the committee’s hearings earlier this year, the frightened voices of the officers on video sounded familiar. On the afternoon of Jan. 6, I had heard the voice of an officer in distress, amplified over the radios that all USCP officers wear clipped to their uniforms. As I waited to get my first COVID vaccine in the Capitol, I could tell that the officer on the radio needed help. Now. That was when I first discerned the frightening possibilities of the day. 

“What’s going on?” I asked an officer nearby. He bluntly replied that the complex wasn’t prepared, and he expected violence: “You should go home.” I told the officer I needed to get vaccinated first. He reluctantly agreed, but strongly advised that I leave immediately afterwards. We often receive security alerts on Capitol Hill, so I rationalized that the demonstration had gone awry but would disperse soon. 

But as I waited the required 15 minutes after getting vaccinated, USCP locked down the complex: No entry or exit. Emerging from the waiting room, USCP officers directed staff to go back to our offices, lock the doors, and shelter in place. 

Back in my office, alone because my co-workers were teleworking, I locked the door and turned on the TV. I saw a live broadcast of the mob parading through Statuary Hall, wearing backpacks and tactical vests and carrying flagpoles. I rechecked the door’s lock and turned out the lights. 

For the next six hours, I heard shoes squeaking in the hallway. I alternated between fearing the insurrectionists were outside my office and hoping the National Guard had finally arrived. I displayed my staff badge as visibly as possible, understanding I could be mistaken as part of the mob.  

Close to 8 p.m., I left my office and found officers escorting groups of staff out of the buildings. In a tunnel under the Capitol, House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer (D-Md.) walked past, then stopped to deliver a moving, impromptu speech. He thanked Capitol Police and staff, pledged to bring the perpetrators to justice, and said Congress would finish certifying the election that night, no matter how long it took. 

I walked with a small group of other staffers, escorted by a USCP officer, through the typically-pristine Capitol Visitor Center, now strewn with debris and overturned furniture. National Guard troops in camo protective gear had arrived, carrying automatic weapons.

I traveled through the tunnels under the Capitol to the Senate side and, for the first time since noon, walked outside. Tanks filled the dark streets — roads already haphazardly closed by fences dragged into place. Troops filed inside the buildings. The world I emerged into diverged wildly from the one I’d seen that morning. I’d changed too. 

In the wake of the attack, the grief came in waves. I alternated between anger, outrage, blame, mourning, fear. How were we caught so unprepared during a joint session of Congress? How had this violence happened? 

Now, the January 6th Committee’s work is vital to ensuring the safety of all who work in the Capitol and the security of our democracy going forward. The Committee’s evidence has demonstrated a crucial fact: Democracy does not exist by default. It’s not a form of government we’re entitled to, or that will necessarily exist forever. 

Democracy exists because of the people who do its work, from the members and staff to the courageous USCP officers who regularly risk their own physical safety, to the food service workers, mail carriers, maintenance workers and myriad others who keep our legislative branch functioning. For their safety — and for the safety of our country — we must ensure that another Jan. 6 never happens again. 

Sharon Eliza Nichols is the director of communications for Congresswoman Eleanor Holmes Norton and lives in Washington, D.C. The views expressed in this article represent the perspective of the author alone.