Posted by: WizardofZA
World War II Memorial - 07/14/04 06:34 PM
We recently returned from a visit to our daughter and son-in-law in Washington D.C. One of the highlights of the trip (besides seeing their new home and enduring a two and a half hour wait while they proudly cooked us breakfast), was our experience at the World War II Memorial. Normally when in the nation's capital, I like to visit the monuments and memorials at night. I find that it's less crowded as well as more solemn, and the lights on the buildings just seem to give them an added dimension. So, our first trip to the Memorial was after dinner one evening. It was quite peaceful and moving. Each column was bathed in a soft light, the fountain whispered softly in the center of the plaza, and we were undisturbed as we wandered around.
A few days later we went back at 11 in the morning. The crowds were intense, children were frolicking noisily in the fountain, and the sun was beating down on us with humidity that felt like a wet blanket. (I continue to maintain that Arizona summer temperatures feel COOL compared to east coast heat and humidity...and besides my hair wilts). In any event, I was prepared to do a brief obligatory walk around the memorial, take a few daylight pictures and head for a cool restaurant. What happened instead was that I started noticing the droves of veterans who had come out to see their memorial. Some were ambulatory, many used walkers or canes, many more were in wheelchairs pushed by a younger generation. Most all were wearing VFW hats decorated with pins, and embroidered with their names and the battles they fought. They would greet each other like long lost buddies, although I doubt none of them had laid eyes on each other before that day. "Hi, Gus, how ya doin?" "Good to see you here, Earl." The mood, unlike the somber Vietnam Memorial, was actually celebratory. These men and women were so happy to be there, and so proud. I went up to every one of them I could find, offered my hand, and thanked them. They would invariably grab both my hands in grips still firm, look me dead in the eye, and with sparkling eyes, thank ME for saying something. Our family spent over two hours exchanging pleasantries, and taking photos for the veterans with their families.
We finally left when we could stand the heat no longer, but I felt a longing as we left. I wondered if there was time for one more visit before our trip ended. There was not, but I know it will be the first place I return when I am next in Washington. Someday soon, there will be no veterans left to meet at this Memorial, and for me, that was the best part about being there. It is a beautiful monument, constructed in exactly the right place between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, and my only sadness upon seeing it is that it took so long to get it there. I thought of my dad and my husband's dad, and my uncle, and so many thousands and thousands of others who never got to see this tribute. I hope that somehow they are all looking down on it and are proud.
A few days later we went back at 11 in the morning. The crowds were intense, children were frolicking noisily in the fountain, and the sun was beating down on us with humidity that felt like a wet blanket. (I continue to maintain that Arizona summer temperatures feel COOL compared to east coast heat and humidity...and besides my hair wilts). In any event, I was prepared to do a brief obligatory walk around the memorial, take a few daylight pictures and head for a cool restaurant. What happened instead was that I started noticing the droves of veterans who had come out to see their memorial. Some were ambulatory, many used walkers or canes, many more were in wheelchairs pushed by a younger generation. Most all were wearing VFW hats decorated with pins, and embroidered with their names and the battles they fought. They would greet each other like long lost buddies, although I doubt none of them had laid eyes on each other before that day. "Hi, Gus, how ya doin?" "Good to see you here, Earl." The mood, unlike the somber Vietnam Memorial, was actually celebratory. These men and women were so happy to be there, and so proud. I went up to every one of them I could find, offered my hand, and thanked them. They would invariably grab both my hands in grips still firm, look me dead in the eye, and with sparkling eyes, thank ME for saying something. Our family spent over two hours exchanging pleasantries, and taking photos for the veterans with their families.
We finally left when we could stand the heat no longer, but I felt a longing as we left. I wondered if there was time for one more visit before our trip ended. There was not, but I know it will be the first place I return when I am next in Washington. Someday soon, there will be no veterans left to meet at this Memorial, and for me, that was the best part about being there. It is a beautiful monument, constructed in exactly the right place between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, and my only sadness upon seeing it is that it took so long to get it there. I thought of my dad and my husband's dad, and my uncle, and so many thousands and thousands of others who never got to see this tribute. I hope that somehow they are all looking down on it and are proud.