A Capital Time...

At the age of 52, I've just had my first trip to the nation's capital.  Wow; what an incredible experience.  

Monument from Willard Hotel

I thought I had a pretty good handle on what Washington, D.C. looked like.  I mean, come on, all the spy movies and thrillers, even spoofs on the President; we've all seen films where D.C. was the main feature.  How much of a surprise could it be, really?  Oh, fool, me!  The scope of the city is impossible to view on film.  No matter the size of the screen; my brain simply couldn't wrap around the sheer size of that town.  The first thing that struck me was that, no matter where you looked, the Monument could be seen.  From every direction in the city, from high above the ground, from across the Potomac, there was the Monument.  More often than not, as my eye would be caught yet again by that imposing edifice, tears would come to my eyes.  Not at the magnitude of the Monument, but at what it represents - the City over which it stands guard, and the people who claim that city as their own - Americans.  

The memorials and monuments all stand tribute to one thing, and one thing only.  The fallen hero - whether that hero be a statesman, a serviceman, or an unknown citizen, they gave everything they had to the protection of this grand nation. 

Changing of the Guard

I didn't make it into any of the museums, nor into the National Archives, nor into any of the buildings that house our unique government.  There was simply too much to absorb by staying outside.  I spent a day at Arlington Cemetery; truly, it could have been a week. There's a bit of a side note here; I've always loved old cemeteries, reading headstones, learning of the people of a different time in what they leave behind.  But this cemetery isn't about that; this cemetery is about those who gave the very last measure for what they believed in - us.  A nation of pieces and parts, come together by want or force, from all over the globe.  Made better, stronger, for the coming together, bonded by the blood spilled on our behalf, perfect strangers dying to keep us safe.  Nowhere else in our Nation is that exemplified better than at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Sliding down Lincoln's Memorial

Yet, in the midst of such somber moments, such intense emotion, there was a spirit of play.  Children will always be children, no matter the surroundings.  It was at Lincoln's Memorial that I saw this spirit in its total abandonment to joy.  There, amidst the marble splendor that houses one of the Nation's most celebrated Presidents, children were using the sides of the Memorial as a slide.  And I stood watching, thinking, of all the Presidents to choose from, surely his Memorial was the correct choice - after all, Lincoln was a man of the people, first and foremost.  Inside the Memorial, the atmosphere was hushed, reverent.  Yet out in the sunshine, it was simply one more moment of joy.


Watching that, the unbridled joy, reminded me again of why we struggle so hard to defend our truths, why we have decreed to take our Freedom to the world.  It is so that unbridled joy might always hold sway over all.

I leave you with this - the symbol of our nation, with the symbol of our missing immediately below it.  All over the City, our nation's flag flies.  Fifty flags surround the Monument; they hang down, stars toward the ground, at the Tomb.  They fly at half-mast at Arlington.  They fly over the tent city in the plaza by the Willard Hotel, being used by those who protest our government and the current politics.  The symbol remains the same, a constant - and is recognizable across the globe.  The United States of America.


What was YOUR first impression of the Capital?  Do you believe that freedom comes with a price?  What price would you be willing to pay?