Day in the Capitol

Monday (my day off) I went into Washington, D.C. for the day.
I decided to suck up the $4.75 parking cost at the Metro stop, which had stopped me last week, figuring (correctly) that it was a far better way to invest money than a meal out or some other more frivolous discretionary expenditure.

I successfully rode the Metro in, despite never being sure I was headed the right way or in the right place, and following a crowd onto another train on blind faith, figuring they were probably headed the same place I was. I was relieved to emerge above ground and see the mall stretching out before me and George's Obelisk stabbing the sky. It struck me how long it's been since I had been there, and how much has happened in that time.

I had one goal for the day, and set about burying myself therein: The Smithsonian Air & Space Museum. Came out almost 7 hours later, full of wonder at America's manned space flights, golden years long gone, and World War II (Had a great lunch, too. Who woulda thought their cafeteria pizza would rank in my top ten?!). It's crazy to put your face right next to a piece of metal that orbited the moon!

I didn't have much of a plan after the museum closed. I didn't want to deal with rush hour crowds heading out of the city, was open to eating dinner if I found somewhere to eat, and mostly just wanted to meaner around a place that most people rush hurriedly through. I talked to Mom for a long time on the phone, sitting on the grass and looking at the Capitol Building, and eventually started heading west, taking some pictures and enjoying the late afternoon light.

As the sun lowered in the sky towards the Lincoln Memorial, I was treated to a once-or-twice-in-a-lifetime lights show around the Washington Monument. The sky was perfect blue. A warm, hearty wind blew across the green grass, stirring the flags at the base of the monument to life. They literally seemed to be lit from within as they flapped in the golden sunlight. Red, white, and blue, in a grand circle. Enough to set almost any heart aglow with patriotic thoughts.
The sun lowered, the light richened, and the glowing flags and monument stood out majestically from the deepening sky behind them. At last I tore myself away and trotted down the slope to the World War II monument, to catch its magnificence in the last rays of the sun.
This was a fitting cap to a day in which I had spent uninterrupted hours studying signs about the war: The grand, staggering, globe-engulfing epic of a world and a people now almost totally lost and gone. The memorial sweeps with fitting scale and breadth, and fountains pour ceaselessly, like the lives poured boat after boat upon the murderous shores of Guadalcanal.
I was sober and affected. Blocks of marble were engraved with names of far-off places and great battles. The Coral Sea. The Ardennes. Battle for Monte Cassino. Okinawa. A wall of close-packed stars (4048 total) was marked with this engraving: "Here We Mark The Price Of Freedom." Each star represents 100 Americans who died in the war.

I sat cross-legged at the edge of the reflecting pool as the sun at last slipped out of view and the world began to dim. The fountains now gleamed brilliantly, lit unseen from below, as if the water itself was liquid light. Farewell, men. Thank you for giving your lives--giving your all--, for a noble and just cause. For freedom and justice. For your country and the protection of the world. You were great.

I headed home quietly, my stomach tearing itself up with hunger the whole way. It had been a good day. I was glad I went. I'll remember that sunset at the Washington Monument for a long time. Even though my camera ran out of batteries as it began to get really spectacular, I blazed the memory into my mind's eye. It was so good-looking that even my atrocious cell phone camera took pretty pictures. WWII has always stirred me, and both in the museum and at the memorial, this day carried that out. I broke my songwriting drought that night, and penned these words, of a fallen soldier to his surviving comrades and family:

So carry on without me
I did my best
Light the torch and toast my name
Along with the rest
I may be buried
In the sands of the East
But you will remember me
As long as you breathe

Show them the medal
That I never saw
Tell them the story
Of their unknown Grandpa
Teach them to live right
And love this great land
Teach them to work hard
With both of their hands

[whistling interlude]

So carry on without me
And the others who fell
Raise the glass in honor
Of men who died well