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April 29, 2006
D.C. Journey, Part C
So where was I? Ah yes. Walking (and walking) from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial.
And walking.
And walking.
I had zoomed in for the final photo on the previous post, so it appears to be a much shorter journey than was actually the case.
On my way, I was momentarily stumped by the splashy joyous fountainness that is the WW II Memorial. I shall surely engender all kinds of hatecomments when I say here that it is to the Vietnam Memorial what Busby Berkely is to Schindler's List. All happy fountains and wide open spaces and stirring commentary re: the glory of war, with gold stars for the dead and eagles and laurel wreaths and triumphant ribbons. Vs. an abrupt black granite slash of grief, pain and loss.
I will say this; the WW II Memorial did not make me cry.
Besides. I was still fixated on the Lincoln Memorial.
(This is the only WW II Memorial picture I took. It would have turned out better if those two ladies had realized I was making Art and got themselves out of the way. However, I wasn't the only visitor to Washington, D.C. that day, so I tried to be forgiving. Not so much so of the oblivious people who tended to wander straight through the shot while I was taking it. Thank goodness for digital cameras. If they'd wasted my film, I'd've had to take it out of their turrist hides.)
I continued on my way, along the very, very lengthy Reflecting Pool. I admired the ducks. When I finally got to the base of the Lincoln Memorial, I wondered briefly if I would be able to make it up all those stairs. (Which is especially ironic in light of what I did later that afternoon.)
Once I entered the memorial, I did wonder why, when all the exterior signage requested silence and respect, there were so many people talking inside. (At least they weren't eating, like the mother and son combo who walked right through the middle of the Vietnam Memorial munching on ice cream cones.) But then I forgot all about that and cried as I read the 2nd Inaugural Address and the Gettysburg Address.
I also took a couple of pictures of the statue but they were terrible, so I will not post them here.
When I was a little kid, I thought that statue was God. I'm not putting this very well. As far as I know, last week was my first trip to Washington, D.C. But for some reason, I had this picture in my head of God, and He looked just like the marble statue of Abraham Lincoln that graces the Memorial. I had seen a picture of it and made the connection. That was God. I was convinced of it. Some time later, I realized that it was part of the Lincoln Memorial. But, somewhere in the back of my head, it's still a basic Truth.
I spent more time in that building than in any of the other places I went except for maybe the FDR memorial, but that was because it has so much more to see. This is simple and elegant and so very meaningful. It was well worth the walk.
When I came out, I figured out where the Capitol Building was.
I stood at the top of the steps for a while and admired the view. And then I went to the Vietnam Memorial.
I don't really have anything more to say about it than I have already said in this post and in a previous one. Aside from my thought that it may be the singlemost evocative commemorative site that I have ever visited. And that the Vietnam Women's Memorial felt like an afterthought.
From the Vietnam Memorial, I headed for the Korean Memorial. I should probably say right here that I didn't take pictures of the war memorials. It seemed wrong to snap touristy shots of monuments to grief. There's something very strange about making a ten year-old girl stand self-consciously in front of the grey ghosts of Korean soldiers so you can commemorate your visit. She has no idea what it's about. And chances are that any relative who fought in that war was a great-grandparent who she never knew. It's just weird.
That's not to say that we shouldn't teach our kids about these wars. Because we should. It's an important part of our history, gives them a context for now, when we are once again poking our noses into something on the other side of the globe to prevent whatever it is we're trying to prevent this time. We just shouldn't make it about fun tourist opportunities.
(It reminds me of the story a college friend told me about visiting a mutual friend of ours in Germany. They went to Auschwitz. And tried to figure out how to become invisible when they heard an obviously American man say loudly and happily to the rest of his family, "Honey! Let's get a picture in front of the ovens!")
Some things demand lessons in respect, is all I'm saying.
And I couldn't have captured the sense of them anyhow.
I shall now climb off my soapbox to admit that I did take one picture at the Korean Memorial. Of a duck in the small reflecting pool there.
I'm not sure you can tell, but she's not really floating. Her feet are flat on the bottom of the pool. She's pretending to float. Because it's water. And she's a duck. I just felt there was a metaphor for my own life in there somewhere.
From Korea, I headed off to the nearest interpretive site and got directions to the FDR Memorial. And a map. I cannot get over how all this stuff is free in Washington. I've never been to a free zoo before. And a free map at a national park or monument? After free entry? Am I dreaming?
The FDR is on the tidal basin and therefore a bit of a hike. But on the way I got this picture, which is the closest I got to the Jefferson Memorial. (Hey, I have to have something to come back to see.)
I also got a picture of what I think was a cormorant diving. As in, its head was above the water when I pushed the button, but I what I got was a picture of a dark line and a beautiful little splash.
By the time I got to FDR, I was pretty well done with the walking (or so I thought). Plus, my brain was reeling with all the history and emotional impact of everthing else I'd seen so far. So I'm not sure much of it really sunk in. If I'd been thinking, I would have stopped at the interpretive center for that monument and had someone explain the signifigance of the bronze bas-relief scupltures depicting FDR's Social Programs. Because they were beyond the understanding of my puny intellect.
It was somewhere in the middle of this memorial that Dave called to see where I was. It was 4:30-ish and he was going to see a reading of a one-act directed by a friend of ours (who won the KCACTF Directing Competition) at 5:30. Then we could go have dinner. I decided to meet them at the Kennedy Center because, hey, on the map, the Lincoln Memorial is about halfway between the FDR Memorial and the Kennedy Center. I figured it would take about 30 minutes to walk it. (Did I mention that my feet hurt?)
So that's what I did. I walked along the Potomac from the FDR to the Kennedy Center. I watched some practicing eights on the river. That was interesting. And every so often I reminded myself that I was walking along the Potomac. Which was just a mind-bender.
The walk took slightly more than an hour.
By the time I got to the Kennedy Center, my feet really hurt. But not my knee, which is one of the best realizations I've had in a year. I reached the ticket booth at 5:28pm. I stood in line for five minutes, until they opened a new window. At which point I learned that the reading was free. I rushed in just as they were closing the doors.
And sat down for the first time since 2:15 that afternoon. I was amazed 45 minutes later when I discovered that I could still move my legs. The pain came the next morning.
I took no pictures of the Kennedy Center. By the time I got to a place where I could see it in all it's 1960's "glory" I didn't have my camera. Because we were at a restaurant celebrating David's win.
However. I did take a picture of David after our glorious dinner on Friday evening (after my all-day history hike). Our friend Paul, the directing winner and not to be confused with my friend Paul the puppeteer who passed through Moscow on Friday, asked me to get a picture of tipsy David. Allow me to oblige.
Posted by sally at April 29, 2006 10:33 AM
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