Happy Holidays: The Barrett 2013 Wrap-Up

Here's our "holiday letter" for the year...we hope it finds you all in good spirits and safe with your loved ones!

Happy Holidays 2013!

Season's Greetings! We hope you all had a prosperous and happy 2013. Ours wasn't half bad. Here's a quick update on each of us:

 

Nathan's 2013:
-Loves his job as Senior Transportation Planner with the Pima Association of Governments
-Became Ward Mission Leader for LDS Sahuarita First Ward; enjoys helping out the full-time missionaries
-Still enjoys board gaming with friends; has also taken up jogging in the morning
-Got to take his dream vacation to Washington, D.C. in October. Toured the nation's capital, and even got to see a government shut-down in action. Fun times!

Adrianne's 2013:
-Acting COO of Barrett Household; serves double duty as shuttle driver, taking kids from activity to activity
-Released as Sahuarita First Ward Primary President in July; now serving as ward missionary and ward choir director
-Teaches piano lessons to 11 awesome students, including her oldest daughter
-Still loves trying out new recipes, reading new books, and occasionally participating in mud runs featuring "zombies," as pictured above

Lorelai's 2013:
- Turned eight years old in August; baptized a member of the LDS church in early September. We are all very proud, and love to see her make good choices every day!
-Loves to read, play piano, ride her bike/scooter, and write stories
-Started third grade in the fall; got a small part in an upcoming school play
-Played softball in the winter; took swimming lessons in the summer; ready for karate next year (we hope!). She loves to try out new sports!

Celeste's 2013:
-Finished preschool in the spring, and started kindergarten in the fall. She loves math and is getting better at reading every day
-Loves her ballet class and likes to show off her dance moves at home
-Enjoys fancy clothes, Barbie dolls, My Little Pony, Tinkerbell, Littlest Pet Shop, and anything else that involves dresses, princesses, babies, fairies, or any combination of the above
-Very good-natured and helps everyone in the family feel happy and loved

Aurora's 2013:
-Loves nothing better than jumping, running, climbing, and wrestling with her sisters; despite all the rough-and-tumble, she is our cuddliest kid who loves to give out kisses and hugs
 -Enrolled in a dance class in the fall, which helps her work out that energy!
-Started a weekly playgroup/preschool with her friends, and loves spending time playing with them
-Has a secret crush on Jake from the TV show Jake And The Never Land Pirates; wants to join a pirate crew and satisfy her thirst for daily adventure and excitement

Midnight and Cucumber Barrett:

-Our newest (furry) family members; joined our home after Thanksgiving. Looking forward to cuddling with them for the next few years!

We love you all, and hope you have a happy, healthy, and safe 2014! Best wishes to you all.

Love,

The Barretts

DC Diaries: Final Thoughts

Final Peregrinations

My final slug into DC got me into the city around 7:30. With most of the tourist attractions shut down, and with me needing to be at Union Station by 10:30, I did not have a lot of time or options. I sat on a park bench in Lafayette Square, working on a puzzle book, and watching the city come to life as the rising sun slowly lit up the White House.

After an hour, I rose and began wandering around Lafayette Square.  I had bought a Kindle ebook with six different walking tours of DC, but had not yet used it this week. I pulled out my phone, opened up the Lafayette Square walking tour, and began a self-guided tour of the area.

At the center of the park is a statue of Andrew Jackson. In each of the four corners is a statue of a different foreign general who aided in the American Revolution: Lafayette; Rochambeau; Kosciuszko; and von Stueben (respectively French, French, Polish, and German).

Laffayette

Rochambeau

von Steuben

Kosciuszko

My tour of Lafayette Square complete, I wandered over to a nearby Cosi and had one last squagel. I conducted one more walking tour in the Chinatown area, and then sat on the mall near the Capitol building one final time. At 10:15, I started to walk to Union Square, where I would catch an Amtrak train to BWI, and from there a flight home.

Following are some brief lists that encapsulate my thoughts on what I saw during the week. 

Highlights

Although I would like to highlight everything, I am forcing myself to choose my five favorite sites or tours. In no particular order:

1. National Portrait Gallery
2. American History Museum
3. Vietnam Memorial
4. Supreme Court
5. Pentagon

Honorable Mentions

These are sites that I considered for the top five, but they did not make the cut.  They were still great visits and come highly recommended.  

1. Arlington Cemetery
2. National Gallery of Art
3. Jefferson Memorial  

Don't Need to do a Second Time

These are sites that I'm glad I did once, but I see no need to do a second time.  Unless, of course, I return to DC with my kids, who will need to experience these sites for themselves.  

1. Holocaust Museum
2. Bureau of Engraving and Printing
3. Natural History Museum

Wish I had done

These are things I wish I had done, but for one reason or another I was not able to do.  I at least have something to look forward to eight years from now when I take my kids to D.C.

1. White House Tour
2. International Spy Museum
3. Capitol Galleries

Closing Thoughts

I am so thankful to my wife for letting me go on this trip. She knew how much it was going to mean to me. I am grateful to Ray for joining me in D.C. and keeping me company for a couple of days. Although I looked forward to touring on my own, it would have been a lonely five days without him.  I also appreciate my Facebook friends who put up with (and maybe even enjoyed) my constant updates from our nation's capitol. I was like Jefferson Smith, arriving in D.C. wide-eyed and idealistic, thrilling at just being in that historic place.

Two American Patriots out for a day on the Mall

I love the United States of America. I love the institutions and traditions that create a shared national creed, a belief that all men are created equal and that all men should be free. We have our disagreements and our squabbles, but these are always peacefully resolved.  In other nations, a government shutdown might lead to revolution and civil war. In America, though, we grumble about the childish actions of our national leaders, but in not rebelling, we express a faith that those same leaders will eventually work things out and we'll move forward again as a nation. Even in the midst of our hard times, Americans have a deep faith in the basic goodness of our country.

Yeah, I did DC

I will always cherish this trip to DC. When I read a novel that mentions the corner of Maryland and First, I'll know what's on that corner (the Supreme Court). When I see two characters in a movie walking along the tidal basin, I'll know that they'll have to duck their head to avoid the low-hanging trees on that path. 

But more importantly, when I think of my heritage as an American, I will always think of my time in the National Archives, at Arlington Cemetery, in the chambers of the Supreme Court, or standing at the Vietnam Memorial. I now have a greater connection to my American heritage than I did before, a greater appreciation for the long history of sacrifice and valor, a deeper respect for the ideals and dreams that make America great. All in all, a successful trip, I would say.

DC Diaries, Day 5: Shutdown

Logistics

I woke in the morning to find that the government had shut down while I was sleeping. This presented some interesting logistical questions that Shane and I discussed.

A harbinger of things to come

First, with 800,000 government employees furloughed, we were unsure how the slug lines would work. With fewer people going in to work, that meant there would be fewer drivers to pick up slugs. Also, with fewer people going in to work, the HOV lane would not have as great an advantage over the regular lanes, and therefore would reduce the value a driver would place on a slug.

We went to the slug lines early, just in case we had to come up with a plan B. It turns out that we needn't have worried. There was a line of cars waiting for us, and the slugging proceeded much the same as on previous days.

My second logistical problem was of a different nature. What to do with my day, now that the museums and memorials were closed?  I had planned to re-visit some museums in the morning, before heading out to Arlington Cemetery in the afternoon. Fortunately, I had called Arlington the day before and learned that they would not be effected by the shutdown. But that still left me with a morning to fill.


Memorial Ride

I determined that my best option was to re-visit the monuments and memorials I had visited two days previous. Even if they were closed off, I'd still be able to view them, sit near them, and have quiet moments of contemplation. After a quick visit to the Old Post Office Pavilion, I spent $7 on a 24-hour bike share pass so I could bike back to the memorials, rather than walk.

The Old Post Office Pavilion, now a shopping mall

The DC Bike Share program provides bikes in a number of stations throughout the metro area. With a pass, you can check out a bike and ride it to any other station. A half-hour ride is free with the pass, but anything more than a half hour incurs additional fees. So, for example, an hour ride would cost an extra $2. However, as long as I parked the bike at a station before the time ran out, the ride remained free, no matter how soon thereafter I checked out another bike.

So I leapfrogged my way along the monument route. Each time I passed the Lincoln Memorial I would park the bike in a station and then check out another one shortly thereafter. I was thus able to have a longer bike ride by limiting it to smaller chunks of less than half an hour each.

On this ride, I found some memorials barricaded, and others wide open. I'm not sure why this was, but I saw photos later in the week of some of the previously open memorials that were barricaded at some point after my Tuesday visit. 

You Shall Not Pass

The barricading itself was ridiculous and spiteful. I saw more park rangers on this day than I had on my first visit, only this time they were being paid to keep people out. Former Secretary of the Interior, Gale Norton said in an interview later in the week that "the National Parks Service has a long history of dramatizing budget issues by inconveniencing the public...They often choose the most dramatic type of action in order to get their message across."

However, even if I couldn't go in the memorials again, I could get photos of the closed memorials, something that not every tourist to D.C. can boast of.

How many tourists get to take photos like these?

Two other highlights of the morning are worth mentioning here. The first was my return to the Jefferson Memorial. I had the entire site to myself, almost literally.  I sat on the steps, while a park ranger stood in the rotunda making sure I wouldn't do anything crazy or dangerous like, you know, visit the open air memorial.

The second highlight was the trip between the Jefferson and Lincoln memorials. Instead of taking the route around the tidal basin, as Ray and I had done on Sunday, I rode my bike along the Potomac River. It was a clear, sunny, fall day. The trees had not achieved their full panoply of fall colors, but they were autumn-kissed, and even a gentle breeze would cause some leaves to flutter to the earth. My ride along the Potomac was so picture-perfect that it felt like I was in a video produced by the Washington Board of Tourism.  

A perfect fall day

Misadventures in Rosslyn

I ate lunch at a small cafe near the White House called "Wicked Waffle." The cafe specializes in European-style waffles, and using those waffles for both savory sandwiches and sweet desserts. It was a just little on the pricey side, but it filled me up and kept me sated for most of the afternoon, and that's all I wanted anyway. Well, that and a sandwich made out of WAFFLES!

Out of WAFFLES!

I rode my bike once more to the Lincoln Memorial, parked it, and sat on a park bench for five minutes. I then checked out a new bike, and began my journey over the Arlington Memorial Bridge.  On paper, this looked to be a short two-mile ride, with a half-mile walk to Arlington afterwards. What the paper maps neglected to inform me of, though, was that Rosslyn is a hilly city.

Once across the bridge, I was faced with some very steep hills between me and the bike station in Rosslyn. The ride nearly did me in, but I eventually arrived, and parked my bike. I decided that before hiking back to Arlington, I needed some more Powerade from a nearby McDonald's. When I got to the McDonald's in Rosslyn, though, I discovered that not only did they not have Powerade, but they did not have a self-serve drink station like every other self-respecting McDonald's in the world. 

I bought a large Sprite and drank it as I walked to the Marine Corps Memorial, reflecting on how much this town had disappointed and defeated me. Not only was it a city whose steep hills had stopped short my blissful bike ride, and then further kicked me in the teeth by denying me my blessed Powerade relief, but it was also the city in which Josiah Bartlett and Josh Lyman were nearly killed.  Rosslyn, Virginia: you are dead to me.

Arlington

I stopped at the Marine Corps Memorial on my way to Arlington. The statue of the flag raising of Iwo Jima is huge and impressive, but the memorial is lacking in one crucial aspect. There are no benches around the memorial. I guess the Marines want you to tough it out and stay on your feet when you come to visit their memorial. After snapping a few quick photos, I gazed once more on the six men who raised the flag, and then moved on.

Ira Hayes is there in the back

I had decided months ago that my first stop in Arlington National Cemetary would be the grave of Ira Hayes. He was a Pima Indian from Arizona, and was one of the six flag raisers in that famous photo. After reading Flags of our Fathers, I was deeply moved by Private Hayes' story. I entered the cemetery from the north, and Ira's grave was on the south end, so it was quite a hike to get there.

I sat in the shade of a tree near Ira Hayes' grave and reflected on his tragic life. "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" had been running through my head since entering the cemetery, and a stray whistle of the tune had escaped my lips during my hike to the grave site. As I sat under the tree, the hymn came back to me and I softly sang it to Ira.

A tragic American story

I heaved myself to my feet, and began wandering through the cemetery. Although Arlington is filled with many memorials and famous graves, I had made no prior plans on what to see, other than Ira Hayes and the Tomb of the Unknowns. Before reaching the Tomb of the Unknowns, I stumbled across the graves of Chief Justice Earl Warren, Justice Arthur Goldberg, and Lieutenant General Leonard Wood.

A famous grave

I tried to time my arrival at the Tomb of the Unknowns so I could watch the changing of the guard, which occurs every hour on the hour. I got there with 30 minutes to spare, so I detoured to the nearby monument in honor of the USS Maine, as well as the small memorials dedicated to the astronauts of the Challenger and the Columbia. There was also a small memorial dedicated to the men and women who died during the failed rescue attempt of the hostages in the U.S. Embassy in Iran.

They have slipped the surly bonds of earth..

..and touched the face of God.

I returned to the Tomb of the Unknowns at a quarter till. I found a good seat on the steps, shaded by the memorial behind me. At the stroke of 4:00, the changing of the guards began.  An Army Honor Guard approached the tourists and asked us to remain silent and standing throughout the ceremony. It was a solemn moment, and throughout I pondered the inscription: "Here rests in honored glory an American Soldier known but to God."

Tomb of the Unknowns

Army Honor Guard

As the ceremony concluded, I walked slowly out of the memorial. I checked the map of Arlington on my phone to see if there were any memorials I ought to see before heading out. I noticed that I was not far from the memorial to Pan Am Flight 103, which was bombed over Lockerbie, Scotland in 1988.

This last memorial was a cylindrical cairn, with a number of stones equal to the number of victims.  Visitors had placed pennies and nickels around the base of the cairn, so I took the change out of my pocket and left my own offering.

Memorial to the Victims of Pan Am Flight 103

On my way out of the cemetery, I passed the grave sites of the Kennedys. I approached the grave sites from the uphill side (furthest from the main entrance) and found a tasteful, simple cross. On growing closer, I found that this was not JFK's grave site, but that of his brother, Robert.  I rounded a corner and found the vast complex of marble and slate that marks the grave site of our 35th president.

Evening

My day at Arlington complete, I hopped on the metro to the Pentagon. Shane had told me that the slug lines at the Pentagon had a lot of users, both drivers and slugs, so I figured this was my best bet at finding a ride back to Woodbridge on a government shutdown day. Sure enough, as I approached the Highway 234 slug line in the Pentagon parking lot, there were already three or four cars waiting for me. This was my first time slugging without any assistance from Shane and it was a marvelous success.

I got into Woodbridge about a half hour before Shane, so I walked across the street to the Taco Bell, checked to make sure they had a self-serve drink station, and then ordered myself a stiff one (that is, a Mountain Dew Baja Blast). I quietly nursed my drink, waiting for Shane to arrive, and thinking about the day and the week behind me.

Eventually Shane arrived, and his wife showed up shortly thereafter to bring us back home. Dinner was another home-cooked meal of Parmesan chicken, creamy potatoes, corn, and cheesy garlic bread.

After dinner we watched a movie (School of Rock) before turning in for the night.

The next day would force me to say farewell to DC and begin the long trek home. It had been a fabulous week, and I would leave with no regrets.

DC Diaries, Day 4: Catching My Breath

The next two days were going to be shorter days for me, because I would be slugging back to the Thompson's home in Woodbridge. The HOV lanes close at 5:30, so the value of a slug starts to decrease rapidly after 4:45 or so. Shane and I were going to try and catch a ride back at 4:00. I met up with Shane that morning, and he kept my backpack in his office for the day. Beside giving my back a rest, the lack of baggage would allow me to go on the tour of the Pentagon (which did not allow any backpacks of any kind).

Bureau of Engraving and Printing

After breakfast, my first stop was the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, which had not been high on my to-do list. Part of that was that they didn't really seem very welcoming, like they didn't want tourists poking around. They are only open for tours for two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon, and if you arrive outside those two windows, then tough luck.

This is one way to make money
(photo from capitolescapes.com)

But Lorelai seemed rather excited for me to visit the place where money is made. For her sake, then, I walked down to the Bureau and took the tour. It lasted 30 minutes, said very little in addition to what we learned during the intro video, and cynically dumped us in the gift shop at the end of the tour. I was unimpressed, and they didn't even let us take photos to make the lackluster tour worthwhile.

Obviously, not my photo
(photo from capitolescapes.com)

Vietnam Memorial, Again

After having visited the Vietnam Memorial the day before, I had been thinking about the many men and women who visit the wall looking for the name of a loved one. I had been wondering for the last 24 hours what that must be like. I had an hour to kill before I needed to be on the metro to the Pentagon, so I decided to walk back to the wall and recreate the name-finding experience for myself.


At each entrance to the memorial, one can find a number of pedestals with glass enclosed cases. Inside each case is an index of the names on the wall. I flipped the pages and found a half-column of Barretts. I chose a name that was similar to that of a brother, noted the location of the name, and set off to find him. 

Andrew Barrett's name on the wall

After finding the name, I sat down on a nearby bench, and looked him up on the Virtual Wall, a web site with additional information about the names on the Vietnam Memorial. I looked up my name and read a little bit more about Staff Sergeant Andrew Ryan Barrett.  He was born in 1949, only seven months before my father. Sergeant Barrett was from Minnetonka, MN and was an infantryman in the army. He started his tour of duty on May 26, 1970. Three months later, in Phuoc Long Province, he was killed by enemy gunfire. He was 21 years old.

I slowly rose from the bench, and walked to the Smithsonian metro stop. I contemplated the little I knew of Sergeant Barrett's life--what was it like, and what would it have been if not cut so short? Would he have had kids had he survived the war? If so, they would be close to my own age. How much larger would my own generation have been, if not for all those potential fathers who were killed in Vietnam? I now have a specific, emotional connection to the wall.

Pentagon

I arrived at the Pentagon an hour before my scheduled tour was to start. This was the recommendation of my confirmation e-mail and it turned out to be overly generous. I ended up sitting in the waiting room for half an hour.

I didn't take this photo
(photo from Wikipedia)

As I left the Pentagon Metro stop, I noticed some advertisements for a company that I don't normally see advertisements for. But, I reasoned, if this company were to advertise, this would be an excellent spot for it. Since I have friends who work for this company, I snapped a few pictures of the ads. They might get a kick out of them.

I bet I know someone who made that missile

Before I could enter the building, I had to pass through several security checks. Ahead of me in the line were a couple of ladies who thought they could walk up to the Pentagon and walk right in for a tour. They were very disappointed to learn that they had to submit their request at least two weeks prior, in order for the proper security checks to be performed.

The Pentagon tour was one of my favorite things about my D.C. trip, and the content of the tour was only a part of the reason. Another part was just the excitement of being INSIDE the PENTAGON!  And yet another reason was the quality of the tour guides.

Pentagon tour guides are selected from among the Honor Guards in the various branches of the military. That day, our guides were Air Force Honor Guards. They dress in full formal uniforms, complete with white gloves. They have amazing lungs and great sense of humors and are expert at walking backwards.

My tour guide kind of looked like this guy
(photo from airforcelive.dodlive.mil)

Much of the tour was dedicated to the history of the five branches of the military, and various bits of trivia concerning the same. The high point of the tour was the 9-11 chapel and memorial. The names of the fallen, both military and civilian, are etched on large plaques just outside the chapel. Our guide pointed out the names of the youngest victims:  Dana and Zoe Falkenberg, ages 3 and 8, who were flying with their father on American Flight 77 on that fateful day. 

The tour wrapped up in the main commercial center of the Pentagon. Workers here can find just about anything they need: a chocolate store, several red box kiosks, a jewelry store, and even a Best Buy. Once you enter the Pentagon, there's no real reason to leave until the work day is over, and sometimes not even then. The tour guide pointed out a store where, if the chocolates and jewelry fail to get one out of the relationship "dog house," a Pentagon worker could buy a pillow and sleep in his office.


Museum of American Art

 I returned to D.C. proper, and started thinking about lunch.  The Pentagon tour had started at 1:00, so I hadn't eaten since my square bagel (a squagel) at Cosi earlier in the morning. I was tempted to give in and eat at a McDonald's that I knew was near my next metro stop.

As I was leaving the station, though, I was confronted with a row of food trucks, one of which sold cheese steaks. It was a sign from God, I reasoned, and he didn't want me to waste my vacation budget at a fast food chain restaurant. I sat on the steps of the National Portrait Gallery, ate my cheesesteak sandwich, and then went to McDonald's to top it off with a Powerade.

The National Portrait Gallery is actually housed in the same building as the American Art Museum.  The two are actually fairly well integrated, with the portrait gallery on the 1st and 3rd floor of the east wing, and on the 2nd floor of the west wing, and vice versa for the American Art Museum. It's impossible, therefore, to visit one museum without at least walking though the other.

On my previous visit to the building, Ray and I had focused mostly on the portrait gallery. On this return visit, though, I focused on the American Art Museum.  By the time 4:00 rolled around, I had barely scratched the surface of the second floor and had not even ventured onto the third. I had to be content knowing that I would come back in eight or nine years, and I would force my kids to enjoy the museum so I could finally finish what I had started.

We the People

A statue commissioned by Henry Adams for his wife's grave

A garish piano, once owned by Teddy Roosevelt

I finished my visit with a quiet contemplation of an Albert Bierstadt painting, the same one that hung on the wall of my parents' home for many years. I want one for my own home.

I want to go to there

I met up with Shane, and we walked down to the designated slug line for our park-and-ride on Highway on 234. Shane and I tried to get in the same car, but by the time I was first in line, the next car only had room for one rider. Shane let me go first and promised he'd be right behind. Within minutes of my leaving the area, though, traffic in that part of D.C. shut down completely as the motorcade of some important individual (the president, maybe?) passed nearby. 

Shane eventually got in a car, and made good time on his way to the south. I only ended up waiting for him for a few minutes at the park-and-ride lot. 

Dinner

Dinner that night was a home-cooked meal of enchiladas, pinto beans, and guacamole. After several days of fast food and junk food, it was heavenly.

Before moving to D.C, Shane had been the ward mission leader in the Sahuarita First Ward for four years. His wife had served with him as a ward missionary. They missed the calling and were continuing in their member missionary work. That night they had the full-time missionaries over, along with a family that was currently taking lessons from the missionaries.

Byron and his wife, Joyce, are a couple from Ghana. Byron teaches history and geography at a state prison and Joyce teaches at a day care. It was obvious that they placed a high value on education, and they continued to address Shane as "Dr. Shane" throughout the evening.

Byron and I really connected that night. As the evening concluded, the missionaries shared a spiritual thought on faith. I shared some additional thoughts and could tell that my words touched Byron and Joyce.  As we said our good-byes, Byron clasped my hand and said, "You inspire me, brother." It was a very uplifting evening.

Shortly afterwards, I retired to the guest room on the third floor and fell into bed. Although this day had been lighter than the others (only eight miles on the pedometer), I was still quite exhausted. It was the same exhaustion I used to feel at the end of a particularly great week on my mission and it was with weary contentment that I drifted into sleep that night.

DC Diaries, Day 3: Monuments, Memorials, and Museums, oh my!

Poor Meal Planning

The previous morning, Ray and I had walked the half mile to the bus stop, and then kept walking for another couple of blocks until we found someplace where we could grab breakfast (Dunkin Donuts, as it turned out). This morning, our plan was to take the bus that passed right outside our hotel and get off a block north of the White House. We figured that on our walk from the White House to the Washington Monument, we were bound to find a place to grab breakfast.


In theory, this was a workable plan. There are a number of places on 17th Street where one can grab a breakfast. We passed a Subway, a Cosi, and a few others. The problem, though, was that none of these places were open on Sunday. We made it to the Washington Monument and we still hadn't eaten breakfast.

Andrew Jackson, in front of the White House

We started the Monument Walk, but we soon developed a Plan B.  During my meal research, I had come across a sandwich joint called FoBoGro (short for Foggy Bottom Grocery) that was only a half mile north of the Vietnam Memorial. I looked the place up on my phone and saw that they would open at 10:00, a mere 10 minutes from that moment. Even on Sundays.   

Our Plan B, then, was to detour to FoBoGro, grab an early sandwich lunch, and then, since the establishment was also a grocery store, grab some snacky-treats to carry us through the afternoon. With a firm plan in mind, we headed north towards George Washington University.

However, when we arrived at FoBoGro, we learned to our dismay that while the grocery store did indeed open at 10:00, the sandwich shop did not open until 11:00. At that point, we settled into Plan C.  We loaded up on a bunch of over-priced snack foods, called it a lunch, and ate it on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. 

Monument Walk (Morning)

Our Monument Walk had actually started earlier that morning, at the White House. I returned to the White House several more times later in the week, but this Sunday Morning had the fewest crowds by far.  Besides Concepcion Picciotto, we nearly had the whole street to ourselves.

North Lawn

South Lawn

From there, we circled around the Eisenhower Executive Office Building.  Many of the Washington-based fiction I had read describe this building as "ugly."  I found the building quite striking, so I guess that doesn't say much for my architectural tastes.

Eisenhower Executive Office Building: Ugly or Striking?

We viewed the south lawn of the White House, and while it was nicely landscaped, I liked the north lawn better. From the north, you get a much clearer view of the residence.  We walked around the ellipse, saw the most WTF memorial to the Boy Scouts, and approached the Washington Monument.

Memorial to the Boy Scouts: huh?

Closed for repairs, but still impressive

Our next stop was the World War II memorial.  This is a relatively new memorial, and I think it fits in very well on the Mall.  Its wide-open plaza preserves the sight lines between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial.  Being a World War II buff, I was greatly impressed by the wall of gold stars, the various quotes carved in stone, and the pillars representing the various states and territories that sent their sons and daughters to free the world from tyranny and oppression.

After a quick stop at a memorial dedicated to the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence, we made a quick stop at FoBoGro (described above), and then moved on to the Vietnam Memorial.

Memorial to the Signers of the Declaration of Indpendence

I was not expecting much from the Vietnam Memorial. It has been so over-exposed in popular media that I felt that there was nothing new for me to see or feel. And then, too, I have no emotional connection to the Vietnam War, like I do with the second World War.

However, I was not prepared for the experience that awaited me. As I walked by the wall, I let my eyes rest on one random name on each panel and read the name before moving on to the next panel. After a few minutes, I raised my eyes and saw how many more panels were yet ahead of me, and I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of names on that wall. The memorial is simple and unpretentious.  It makes no political statement and expresses no opinion about the war. The stark simplicity of the memorial accentuates the tragic nature of that war.

The Lincoln Memorial was a short and crowded hop from the Wall. Ray and I sat on the steps of the memorial, ate our FoBoGro purchases, and looked at the Washington Monument standing proudly above the reflecting pool. We wandered into Lincoln's cavernous grotto, read his immortal words etched in the marble of the memorial, and reflected on the life of this great man.

A perfect fall day

Monument Walk (Afternoon)

The Korean War Memorial is a well-designed memorial. I love the statues of the soldiers on patrol. And yet, I felt no connection with it like I did at the WWII, Vietnam, and Lincoln memorials. I was also not a big fan of the mural backdrop behind the statues of the patrolling soldiers.

On our way to our next destination, we made a quick detour to the DC War Memorial. This is a small rotunda dedicated to the soldiers from D.C. who fought in our nation's wars. Across the street from the war memorial is the Martin Luther King Memorial. His likeness emerges from a block of stone, and gazes intently across the tidal pool at the Jefferson Memorial. Nice little memorial, but we spent little time here.

Martin Luther King, with his steely gaze looking at the Jefferson Memorial

Ray and I had not yet decided to walk the long distance to the Jefferson Memorial. We had decided to play it by ear, and decide the issue based on how we were feeling when we got the MLK memorial. In the end we reasoned that while we might regret making the long walk, that regret would only last a few days as our battered feet slowly healed. However, if we didn't go, we would regret it for years to come. So off we went, on a quest for the Jefferson Memorial.

That's a long walk to the Jefferson Memorial

We made a brief stop at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Memorial. On the previous day, we had encountered a block of marble outside the National Archives, with a small plaque saying that this was the memorial that FDR told his friends he wanted. This huge plaza next to the tidal pool was therefore against the express wishes of FDR.

One of these things is not like the others

The FDR memorial includes his dog?

We finally made it to the Jefferson Memorial, and it was worth the walk. Not only were there fewer tourists this far out of the way, but I liked the design of the memorial better than the Lincoln Memorial. The Jefferson Memorial is open on four sides and is therefore lighter, and breezier, and more open than the dark grotto of the Lincoln Memorial.

Finally made it!

The man, the myth, the legend.  Jefferson, that is, not Ray.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Ray shared the following thought with me. I agree with the sentiment, and therefore am adopting it as my own. I admire Lincoln for doing the right thing in a difficult moment, for keeping the 87-year experiment in self-government alive. But Jefferson, and the other Founding Fathers, did something more than keep the system moving. They invented something entirely new. While Lincoln could look to his predecessors for inspiration, Jefferson and his cohorts had to think outside the box and do something that had never been done before.

More Museums

From the Jefferson Memorial, the Holocaust Memorial Museum was only a short walk. After a morning of uplifting and inspiring walks, this destination was a real downer. I don't regret the visit, but my feelings for the museum are similar to my feelings for the movie Schindler's List. Everyone should see it at least once, but it's too heavy for me to repeat.

One moment, especially, hit both Ray and I like a two-ton pile of bricks. We rounded a corner on the third floor and suddenly found ourselves in an almost empty room. There was a slightly elevated pathway through the room, and to the sides of the path, and underneath the path were thousands of shoes. It was like slamming into a wall; our pace slowed, stopped, and we stood in mute shock. We quickly hurried on, not wanting to linger too long with the phantasms haunting the room.

An eternal flame at the Holocaust Museum

The National Air and Space Museum was next on our list. This was a fun and light selection. We didn't linger too long in any one exhibit, content to just look at the aircraft and move on. The one exception for me was the exhibit on the Wright Brothers. I was quite taken with the way the displays outlined the three engineering problems the brothers faced, the theories they developed to overcome them, and the ways they used to test those theories.

The Spirit of St. Louis

The Wright Brothers' original flier

Our last stop of the day was the National Gallery of Art. Unbeknownst to us was the fact that this is a perfect museum to see at the end of a long and tiring day. In most of the galleries, this museum has a pair of comfortable couches. I found myself collapsing in to a couch, viewing the art in comfort, and then heaving myself to my feet and stumbling my way to the next set of couches.

Chillin' in the National Gallery of Art

This was also the moment when I realized that I LIKED art museums. This was something of a revelation to me.  Having never been an artsy person myself, I did not expect to have a deep appreciation for it. However, the galleries and displays were all quite wonderful, the crowds were sparse, and I found a number of paintings that arrested my gaze and held me transfixed. We got through one floor of one wing before the museum closed, but I vowed to return later in the week to wrap up unfinished business.

Memorial to Robert Gould Shaw, in the Gallery of Art

The Repentant Magdalene, by Georges de la Tours

Two Women at a Window, by Bartolome Esteben

Dinner

We returned to the hotel, hoping to catch the final quarter of the Broncos-Eagles game. Unfortunately, the only game the Washington-area channels were showing was the Redskins-Raiders game. Sigh.

After resting up, we walked down to Dupont Circle so I could return to Panas.  Ray and I ordered a two-person meal (eight empanadas, four dipping sauces, and plantain chips). By the end of the meal, Ray and I had both settled on the same flavor as our favorite: the Tamal (corn, onions, farmer's cheese, and roasted jalapenos). My second favorite was the Samba Shrimp (shrimp, coconut, cilantro, onions, and red and green peppers) and Ray's second favorite was the CubaNova (roasted pork, onions, cilantro, and lime).

The Canoa: 8 Empanadas, 4 dipping sauces, and a pile of plantain chips

We finished the day with another walk down Embassy Row. Ray was more bold than I, and approached several embassies (when there were no gates to keep out visitors) to read the plaque next to the door. He agreed with me that the Venezuelan embassy looked like a drug lord's hacienda and noted that the Turkish embassy's fortified compound was exactly what he would have expected.

By the end of the day, I had put fourteen miles on my pedometer. This was the most mileage of any of my days in DC. Ray would leave me early the next morning, and I would be on my own again. But I'm glad I got a chance to spend this time with him. We were once very close, so this weekend together was a chance to rekindle our friendship.