All of the pictures in this post, and more, are available in full resolution in a Google photo album.
We had a great time on our recent trip to Washington, D.C. The weather was beautiful and warm — what the locals sometimes refer to as “second summer” — and there weren’t all that many tourists. Not that we have anything against tourists, of course :).
Sandwiched between two stops in New York, we decided to get there by train. Union Station in D.C. is beautiful, with a gigantic arrival/departure lounge…that was almost totally empty. I wonder what it was like back when trains were the most common way of traveling long distances?
We had a pleasant surprise when we got to our hotel: turns out it was only a couple of blocks away from Lafayette Park and the White House. Which really ought to be called the Cream House, or maybe the Lemon Chiffon House, because (at least in the evening and a night) it isn’t particularly white.
Given all the emails they keep sending me to meet them (in exchange for donations), I was a little disappointed that Jill & Joe didn’t invite us to stop by for dinner, or at least coffee, given that we were so close. A simple scheduling failure, no doubt.
Walking around that first Sunday night I was touched by a sense of pride in our nation. Not for the current garbage we’re dealing with1. But for the potential of what we can be…if we choose to live up to our ideals.
We did eventually get to see Joe arrive home. At least I think we did. It could’ve been someone else entitled to re-route all traffic around the White House and call out dozens of police officers, though.
We started off the next day re-enacting an infamous scene from not too long ago. Sadly, I forgot my bible. But at least that meant I didn’t accidentally hold it upside down like some morons I could mention.
Our first goal involved hitting a few museums that we’d never been to before, the American Indian Museum and the African American Museum. Both were exceptionally well-curated.
I learned something about William Tecumseh Sherman — the famous Civil War Union general after whom Sherman’s March to the Sea is named — that I didn’t know before. Turns out he was sent out to quell a potential uprising among the Dineh (Navajo), who had been forcibly relocated. He was so moved by the pitch the Dineh leader made to be allowed to return to their traditional lands that he ignored his orders and let them do so. Even ultimate hard asses can bend. At least if they’re smart.
We also learned how the Federal government negotiated treaties with multiple Native American tribes in California around the time of the Gold Rush, in order to reduce the risk of conflict…and then bowed to political pressure from California to keep the treaties secret after the Senate had ratified them2. When the tribes found out, fifty years later, what they’d been promised (but never received), they sued the Feds and won over $5 million after the Supreme Court upheld their claim. Which was a lot of money back then.
The architecture in the African American Museum was striking…as was its contents, which covered the gamut from slavery through emancipation and the continuing struggle for equal rights, on up to the enormous impact Blacks have had on all aspects of American culture.
The slavery portion was…disturbing. Not in that it presented anything I didn’t already know. But reading the callous, matter of fact comments made by the people engaged in trafficking human beings, as well as the scale of the enterprise, was horrifying.
I once challenged my kids, when they were studying American history and World War II in middle school, to define the differences between American Slavers and German Nazis. There are differences in “our” favor…but not many.
We have done a lot of good in the world for which we should be justifiably proud. But we also have much to atone for.
We did hit a few of the older Smithsonian Museums3. The American (Culture?) Museum was a disappointment (it looked like all the exhibits were paid for and built by companies pushing their brands) but the Natural History Museum was neat. Among other things it had a bunch of amazing minerals on display.
As well as this cute little guy standing guard at the entrance.
The next day we decided to tour the Capitol, which I’d never done before4. The tours start in the Crypt, which I learned is where George Washington is supposed to be buried but isn’t, because his descendants backed out of a deal to move his remains from Mount Vernon.
The rotunda was really neat, not only because of the famous ceiling painting of Washington ascending to heaven but also because one of its entrances is flanked by statues of Lincoln and Grant, who together saved the country.
But I’d have to say the most moving piece of statuary was this one, commemorating giving women the right to vote. Which was deliberately left unfinished, in recognition of how far we still have to go to give all citizens that most fundamental and important democratic right.
The hall of statues was crammed full of important personages. But I almost burst out laughing at one of them: Rosa Parks, seated properly — and for all eternity — on that famous bus seat her fellow citizens tried to keep her out of.
An unexpected highlight of the trip took place when we realized the House was going to vote on vacating Kevin McCarthy from the Speakership on the day we were touring the Capitol. Click here to read about how we got to watch that play out.
After McCarthy got shown the door, we got to stroll around the Capitol grounds. We were glad there were no obvious signs left of those mad insurrectionists who tried to overthrow our centuries-old experiment in self-government. Let’s consign them where they belong, to the dustbin of history…and stay on guard against any who would follow in their footsteps.
The evening after the vote we shared a delightful dinner with my high school/college friend Vicky and her husband Kevin. Both the conversation and the food5 were wonderful. Vicky & I hadn’t seen each other in over forty years (although we did exchange Christmas cards and newsletters for most of that time), so we had a lot of catching up to do. But we both felt the most amazing thing was that it seemed like the passage of time was only momentary. Great friendships are like that.
After such an exciting day we wanted to take things a bit easier on our last day in D.C. We spent it strolling around the Mall and visiting a bunch of outdoor monuments.
I will never get over being awed by Lincoln’s grasp of both politics and language. The way he could pack meaning and emotion into a small number of words was unmatched.
But his monument is not the only intensely evocative one on the Mall.
Among the lesser-known ones was this statue, commemorating the nurses, most of them women, who served in Vietnam.
I’ve always found the Vietnam Memorial moving as well, and this time was no exception. From men of my age looking up lost comrades, to the personal additions commemorating relationships the rest of us will never be able to appreciate, it’s most definitely hallowed ground.
The last monument we visited was just off the Mall but well worth the additional hike.
“Out of the Mountain of Despair, a Stone of Hope”.
Words to keep in mind, particularly during these crazy times.
Lest you think this trip was dominated by weighty stuff, let’s close with a shot of one of the frequent visitors to the Reflecting Pool on the Mall.
Sometimes, to get ahead, you have to be willing to turn things upside down.
All of the pictures in this post, and more, are available in full resolution in a Google photo album.
I look forward to the day when more of us learn to think critically, and live up to the community ideals we claim to revere. Looking at you, Grand QAnon Party. ↩
I didn’t know you could do that, constitutionally. ↩
Although we didn’t go to the Air & Space Museum, which was a first for me. ↩
We had visited the House and Senate visitors gallery many years ago. I always remember the pandemonium in the House — they were trying to pass a stopgap spending bill right before Christmas — and how Jim Wright was so angry his right eye kept constantly twitching as he pounded his gavel. The Senate, though, the next day, was like watching ponderous dirigibles move slowly past each other. ↩
For the record, Vicky, Kevin did a fantastic job with the steak :) ↩
