I Am So Angry

 I am so angry, I could spit.

Why?

This

 

25,000 National Guard troops deployed to Washington, D.C.

to protect the Inauguration of the 46th President of the United States 

and this

National Guard troops and fencing on the Mall

This is Washington, D.C. in January, 2021. This is the capital city of my country. The area around the Capitol complex is normally a beautiful park. The Mall is lined with museums reminding us of our national history -- yes, the dark and shameful parts, but also the great and good. Monuments and memorials celebrate our heroes, the people who faced and fought wars to secure our Republic. And  those who led the fight to extend liberty to all. 

It is a walking city, meaning that it is best seen on foot at human speed. I have always felt safe in its subway system and on its streets at dusk as the lights come on at the Lincoln Memorial or at dawn as I first saw the rising sun streaming across the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

Razor wire! Razor wire around the Capitol. Subway stations closed and fences across the Mall to keep us out. This is so wrong.

How did this city that I was so proud of come to look like this?

It was because of

This

and chants of "Get Pence" and "Get Pelosi"

And because of these

  

inspired and incited by

his lies

and the politics of hate

His GOP enablers and apologists are also complicit.

Shame on all of them.

A to Z Blogging Challenge -- America

Today is Day 1 of the 2020 April A to Z Blogging Challenge. In all the Covid-19 chaos, I did not sign up, but I need to write so I'm going to do it informally. The goal of the challenge is to post every day except Sundays during the month of April. Each day's topic will begin with the corresponding letter for that day. April 1's topic should begin with A. April 2, B. April 3, C. etc.

Today is Day 1, A -- America

In this day of the continuing Stay At Home edict, America is at risk from Corona Virus-19.

Many years ago on my first trip to Washington, D.C., I saw the America I believe in.
I worked for the Federal Crop Insurance Corporation, part of the Department of Agriculture in Oklahoma City. They sent me to D.C. for training. Alone.

I saw America on the subway despite my out-of-towner anxiety. Oklahoma City has very little in the way of public transportation and back then even less.

That first day I entered the Metro at the DuPont Circle Station. I carefully paid attention to my surroundings as I walked from my hotel to the station so I would know which way to go when I came back. The Colombian Embassy was right there, a red brick building across the street from DuPont Circle which was a small park.

Descending into the underworld, I was exposed to the high speed world of a big city. The locals literally ran up and down the impossibly high escalators, not just one floor or even two floors, but three or four floors without a break. Did I mention, I'm afraid of heights? I stood as far to the right as possible clinging to the railing with both hands, silently pleading "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." They ran past me carrying their brief cases and back packs and giant purses and shopping bags. I knew that if they brushed against me, I'd tumble all the way to the bottom.

On the train, I worried about how I would know which stop to get off? The train was filled with people. I was alone. I was scared enough that I didn't really register the sights and sounds of the people around me. Locals in their business professional attire. Most wore government id's on lanyards around their necks. The women wore sneakers, their heels stowed in those bags to change into once they got to the office. I had been advised to do the same, so I was in sneakers, too.

And there were tourists, too. It was June, so they were in their comfy vacation clothes. Some of them didn't know how to navigate the underground either. I listened as they discussed among themselves how to read the maps posted on the wall of the train. One group had been in town for a week. They were from Iowa. They actually knew where the Ag Building was and explained to me where I needed to get off. Luckily there was a station right across from the building I needed to go to.

When I returned at the end of the day, I confidently exited the subway at the DuPont Circle Station. However, when I reached the surface, I recognized nothing. I didn't see the Colombian Embassy. Even DuPont Circle looked different. What confidence I had gained during the day evaporated.

I knew the street my hotel was on. So I started walking in the direction I thought I should go. I realized I should ask someone which way. There was a group of upper elementary aged children speaking French. There were people in twos and threes speaking languages I didn't recognize. Finally I passed two men speaking English. I asked them how to get to where I wanted to go. They looked around thoughtfully then gave me directions and wished me well.

When I got back to the hotel, I found out there are two subway stations at DuPont Circle.

The second day, I was considerably more secure. I did know how to ride the subway. No one was going to knock into me on the escalators and both locals and tourists were perfectly willing to help a lost out-of-towner.

That afternoon on the ride "home" to my hotel, three young women each dressed in white and carrying a rose further represented this America that I love. They had just been to their high school graduation. One was a red-haired Caucasian, one was African American, and the third appeared to be of Middle Eastern heritage. Three enthusiastic young women embarking on their future.

I know people complain about Washington, meaning the American government. And I admit that if something can be mismanaged or someone can be mistreated, our government can certainly discover just such a way to do it. And even with all our languages, Americans can fail to communicate with each other. But, Washington, D.C. is a beautiful city, filled with museums celebrating America's past and people of all kinds building the future.

The city exemplifies the wonderful variety of America. And, along with the rest of the world, America will come through Covid-19.

America's Future

Day 6 -- National Cathedral and Spy Museum

The National Cathedral

Its Mission --

 to serve as a house of prayer for all people

and a spiritual home for the nation.

Sunday, the sixth day of our History Vacation, we went to church. The only day we went by car. Our Lyft driver to the National Cathedral was a long-time Washington resident. Before he started driving for Lyft he drove a taxi, so he was very knowledgeable both about how to get where we wanted to go and about what we saw on our way.

(An aside regarding Lyft -- my daughter reminded me that when she was growing up I taught her not to arrange to meet strangers on the internet and not to get into cars with people she didn't know. Now we make arrangements with strangers on the internet to get into cars with them.)

Having grown up in Oklahoma where there are no natural lakes and now living in Colorado which is High Plains Desert, the concept of water travel is very exotic to me. The Potomac River which empties into the Chesapeake Bay which in turn opens out to the Atlantic Ocean is an important feature of the City of Washington and an endless source of fascination for me. On the way to church we passed through country that was a combination of city buildings and sail boat masts.





Like the Washington Monument, the National Cathedral was damaged in 2011 by the strongest earthquake east of the Mississippi since 1944.


The magnitude 5.8 earthquake struck about 90 miles southwest of Washington D.C. and was felt by more people than any other quake in U.S. history. It was felt in 12 states and several Canadian provinces.



The Cathedral still has scaffolding in place and is trying to gather enough money to repair the damage.



Each of the doors across the front of the church is covered by beautiful ornamental metal gates.

                 The left entry gate                                                  Two details from the left entry gate

On Saturday, the day before we went to church, Washington had its big Pride Parade to celebrate its LGBTQ community. We were unaware that the parade was taking place so we missed it.


The entrance procession for mass typically includes all who will serve during mass -- the ministers who will serve at the altar, including acolytes or servers, the deacons or priests who will serve as assisting clergy, and the celebrant.

To acknowledge Pride Week, the procession also included a woman carrying the cross festooned with rainbow-colored streamers.

The Reverend Canon Jan Naylor Cope's sermon emphasized diversity and unity. She stressed that all are welcome in our nation and to this church. And that we should strive to overcome the deep divisions within our country and work together for the good of all.

A fitting service to bless our History Vacation.


Among the many striking features of the National Cathedral is one that is not there. The entrances have no metal detectors to walk through and no one examines the contents of your purse. Although, I felt perfectly safe everywhere we went in D.C., I must say, I felt safer there even without the righteous, post 9/11 security practices at all the museums.

From church, we took another Lyft to the Spy Museum. Well, actually, he let us out at the Spy Museum, but there was a Shake Shack right next door. Ah, yes. Burgers all around.

The Spy Museum is not one of the Smithsonian museums and is not free. It also ain't cheap. You get $2 off if you get tickets on line, but for an adult they're still $20.95.

For that, you get all things spy. Both real spies and fictional ones. The information and artifacts about real spies are real, not a bit cheesy. But, if they were, they might be less disturbing.

The kids, including my adult son, enjoyed the Spy Museum immensely. My personal favorite was James Bond's car. (Photo by the museum.)

Think I'll stick with the fictional spies.

On the walk from there to the nearest Metro Station, we were treated to some unique and beautiful Washington architecture.

St. Patrick's Catholic Church, est. 1794

When you turn away from St. Patrick's, right behind you is the most amazing building facade.

        

It's a seven story building with the bottom two stories decorated with painted cast iron.

                 

                    Detail of painted cast iron facade                      Story of the building

Don't forget. You can click on the photos to enlarge them.