Art And History - I Can't Get Enough

After taking care of some sustenance, we headed over to the National Archives... to wait in another line. For some reason none of the walks or waits in line seemed as torturous as I remember them being when Neil and I were in DC in 2010. Then it occurred to me. It was 95 degrees outside with humidity at 90% when we were here last. Every step felt like it would kill me. Every minute in a line sucked the very life out of me. I remember being willing to pay $50.00 for a bottle of cold water on that trip. This trip seemed like nothing. How people live and work in this city in the summer, I will never comprehend.



This was our opportunity to have a moment with the very sacred documents of the United States of America. I know we all picture Nicholas Cage in the movie National Treasure standing alone, staring down at The Declaration of Independence, plotting how he might kidnap it. But that is not how it goes in real life. In real life, you wait in a very long line of people. They allow about 100 people at a time into the rotunda where these significant documents are on display. Of course, the last 150 people are still lingering in the room. Everyone moves in a frenzied mass straight to the Constitution or the Declaration. My introverted self who longs for moments of solitude with such historical documents is slightly underwhelmed by these experiences. 

I envision myself standing alone in the rotunda, looking down upon a piece of parchment that is nearly 250 years old. I bend over the glass and work to make out the faded signatures of all of my favorite founding fathers. Men whose lives I've studied. Men who have long since left this earth, but who laid a foundation for this great democracy. And here I lean over the very document they leaned over as they dipped their quill in ink and signed their names to something that was considered an act of treason at the time. 



But that is not how it went. Instead, my short self stood on tip-toe behind a mob of about fifty very tall people with very large heads. After much waiting and much maneuvering of my body, I finally got close enough to the faded document to peer between two sets of shoulders and got a fairly decent 30 second look at the document. That was my poignant moment. Sigh. But I did get some one-on-one time with the lesser documents of our nation's history. Apparently nobody cares about the Bill of Rights or other such nonsense. 



Once we were done at the Archives, Jonah was officially done with any and all things museum. But Sabrina was dying to see some sculpture. I told her that we should probably explore The National Gallery of Art. I think she was a little dubious. I told her that this museum is about as close as you get to the European art museums. Dad and Jonah left to do something non-museum while Spence, Sabrina, and I went to bathe in art. 



This sculpture lover found herself in heaven, surrounded by angels of the marble and bronze variety. 

Even I had forgotten how many of the greats sit in this museum. Spencer has a replica of this Renoir piece hanging in his bedroom. And there sat the original. Right here in America.

There were also pieces by Monet as well as Degas, right here on American soil.

Rodin? Yes, The Thinker sat right there at our very own Smithsonian pondering the meaning of life.

At one point, Sabrina stopped dead in her tracks. 

"Mom, is that what I think it is?"

Indeed it was. Our favorite portrait of Marie Antoinette sits, not in Paris, but here in The National Gallery of Art.

It was a feast for the eyes. Unlike everywhere else we had been, this museum was not very busy at all. We could have our quiet moments with The Thinker, or the queen of the French Revolution, or the blind woman of Pompeii, and no one was competing for those moments. Sometimes it saddens me that there are so few people in our culture who appreciate the arts. But on this day, I was thrilled to know that the masses were at the Air and Space Museum while my children and I gazed upon these treasures at our leisure. 

But the kids were getting tired.

"What?! We haven't even seen the Dutch or Italian painters! We can't stop now," I pleaded.

"Don't worry, Mom. We'll come back tomorrow," Sabrina said.

I knew we wouldn't. And we didn't. The one tragedy of this trip. Throughout this vacation, I ran circles around my teenagers, even with my chubby out-of-shape body and terrible feet. This couch-potato momma seems to find some hidden stamina when art or history is involved. When I can't normally get off the couch to do a load of laundry, I find myself wanting to walk to one more monument or stand in one more line for one more exhibit in places like DC. My feet must comply to my passions in such instances. My body must keep up with my mind in such places.

But I couldn't convince the kids. So we finished the night in the amazing rotunda.

The gorgeous statue of Hermes was just the icing on the cake for my two Greek Mythology buffs. We stopped in the mall to rest our feet and play with the squirrels, and figure out where Neil and Jonah were.

This is what Neil and Jonah did while we were arting.

We were tired. It was time to go home. We made this walk probably four to six times a day.

If you are going to stay anywhere for more than a day or two, I would recommend renting a vacation home every time. We have gone through homeaway, vrbo, and on this trip, airbnb, and have had a positive experience every time. There is something about living how the locals live, if only for a week, that just gives you the essence of the new place you are visiting. It literally starts to feel like home. This neighborhood became our neighborhood. We loved it!

This was our little house for the week. Oh, how we loved it!

Lincoln's Final Moments

"I should be the most presumptuous blockhead upon this footstool if I for one day thought that I should discharge the duties which have come upon me, since I came to this place, without the aid and enlightenment of One who is stronger and wiser than all others." 

-Abraham Lincoln

We slept in a little on this day. We hadn't gone to bed until close to 1:00 in the morning the night before. We got to our house late, grabbed some groceries, then Neil had to run the rental car to the airport and take the metro home. He said riding the metro at midnight was a little sketchy, but all was well. We couldn't sleep in too long because we had tickets to see Ford's Theater.

If you intend to see some of the very significant places in DC, you have to be prepared for two things. Lots of walking and waiting in lots of lines. I probably would keep this trip a little more low key if you're traveling with little children. We were traveling with teenagers who can sometimes be as whiny as toddlers, but you can tell them to, "Buck up, this is a once in a lifetime experience!" and they will generally cooperate. This batch of teenagers had never gone on a vacation quite this rigorous and occasionally put on their grumbling pants just to see if they still fit. I would just remind them that this was my test to see if they could handle the rigors of a trip to Europe, and they would stop their whining pretty quick.

This is the Petersen House. The place where Lincoln actually died. As I gazed upon it while waiting in line, I found it interesting how DC has grown and changed all around this little house. There are events so momentous in nature that the places in which they happen become instantaneously and eternally frozen in time. The two buildings where Lincoln spent his final moments are two such places. Gettysburg is another such place. 

They still do plays in Ford's Theater. Spencer was sad that we didn't get tickets for a play here. This is the box where Lincoln sat that fateful night. It looks now very much like it did then. As we sat in the theater, I tried to imagine the excitement in the air that evening long ago. I tried to feel the energy that must have been in the room as the audience stared into that box at the President who had saved the Union. There must have been a feeling of hope as everyone laughed together at the comedy that was ensuing on the stage. Then I tried to picture the pandemonium that filled the room as John Wilkes Booth jumped from Lincoln's box, exclaiming "Sic temper tyrannis" before fleeing the scene. And the utter despair that must have followed when it was announced that Lincoln had been shot. It is hard to visualize those things, sitting in that quiet theater with your little family 150 years later. 

This is the room where Lincoln died, across the street from the theater, in that little house frozen in time. The room is frozen in time as well. Again, I tried to imagine the hush in this room as a distraught cluster of friends, colleagues, and family members watched the greatest president this country ever had breathe his last breath. On April 15, 1865, Lincoln's friend and Secretary of War Edwin Stanton announced that "Now he belongs to the ages."

He does belong to the ages. 150 years later, we continue to honor this president. This monument of books written about the man reflect how much we honor him. We theorized with the kids later about whether Lincoln would have been as revered today if he had not died that night. It is hard to say. Reconstruction was a difficult thing. We'll never know how Lincoln would have handled that gargantuan task. He had already tackled the herculean task of saving this country. I think he would have been successful at rebuilding it. He is one of my heroes. I own a book or two from that stack and have come to admire the man. 

Sightseeing is draining. We stopped at this French cafe for brunch. It was an overpriced meal that almost filled us up, but the omelettes and waffles were to die for. 

I'll have to fill you in on the last half of this day in another post, because this post is going to be forever long. Tune in next time for more history and some art! 

One Day In Gettysburg

"If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author, and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time or die by suicide." Abraham Lincoln

We woke up bright and early Saturday morning to discover this in our hotel backyard. Yes, we had been sleeping in a graveyard. It's a good thing we had arrived too late the night before to notice this, or some of us may not have slept very peacefully. When I questioned the guy at the hotel desk, he said, "Yeah, there isn't a whole lot of available land here in Gettysburg so they had to build the hotel where they could." I thought to myself, "Is Gettysburg just one big cemetery?" 

How does one truly take in such a massive national monument in one day? Well, you don't. We learned that. But we at least tried to do so this day. First stop, the visitors center. I had read a book about Gettysburg during our flight and had tried to get Neil up to snuff on all of the important generals and details of the battle but the visitors center solidified everything. Sabrina is obsessed with the battle of Gettysburg thanks to an amazing CE History teacher so she already knew all the ins and outs of the Gettysburg Hook and already had all of her favorite generals, so she was stoked. The kids attempted to spend all of their souvenir money at this one stop. That hat Sabrina is wearing was not cheap, but she is a hat girl and was determined to buy a high quality Union soldier hat. And we had to get a photo with Mr. Lincoln. He is, after all, our favorite president.

I photographed an alarming number of cannons. They were everywhere. There was something about that simple piece of machinery juxtaposed against such gorgeous countryside that I found beautiful and poignant.

We went ahead and bought the CDs necessary for the auto tour. I was hesitant that this might be a waste of money, but the narration was so well done. Worth every penny.

"If it is the whole federal force, we must fight a battle here." 

-Robert E. Lee

Neither Lee nor Meade had any interest in Gettysburg. A series of events just brought the two armies together in this area. 

"...this fight was not waged for possession of a town...it was actually fought for possession of control over the future of America." -Bruce Catton

A sad irony lingered in my mind the whole time I was here. How could so much carnage have taken place in such a pristine peaceful place? I tried to imagine this countryside covered in bodies and smothered in gun smoke. I couldn't picture it. My mind could not fathom it.

All heroes are memorialized at Gettysburg. Sallie was given as a puppy to the 11th Pennsylvania. She would take position at the end of the firing line and bark furiously at the enemy. The men returned to the scene of the first day's fighting and found Sallie, weak but alive, maintaining vigil over the dead and dying. Someone had left some doggie treats next to her monument. 

This Lutheran seminary acted as a lookout the first day of battle.

Did I mention that Sabrina is fascinated by Gettysburg? She is also in love with sculpture. With its over 1500 statues, the girl was in heaven. Once again, the monuments of stone, bronze, and iron set against these rolling hills was breathtakingly beautiful. You can't go to this place without coming away changed.

This little Union soldier was only functioning because of the Mucinex and Tylenol we were pumping him with. He forgot how sick he was after buying his toy gun. He spent the rest of the day in stealth mode fighting the invisible enemy.

"In a way the story of Gettysburg is the story of the country roads that come to the place...The nation gained unity and an immortal legend because the soldiers followed these roads..." -Bruce Catton

We were running out of time but Sabrina insisted that we see Little Round Top and the Devil's Den. The Confederate troops came dangerously close to taking this high ground at Little Round Top. If it were not for Chamberlain and Warren taking and defending this hill, the outcome of this battle, and thus the war, may have been different. 

Again, impossible to imagine what it would have been like to look down from this hill to see armies upon armies at battle.

Devil's Den. A place that had harbored dozens of fallen soldiers, but this warm afternoon, my children scampered about the rocks. That so many men gave their lives that my children may enjoy such a privileged and carefree life is sobering.

As the sun crept beneath the horizon, we found ourselves at the very cemetery our hotel sat at the base of. A man stood in the distance playing Amazing Grace on his recorder. It's an experience every person should have.

This union soldier boy's medicine had worn off. We had dragged him from monument, to hilltop, to grassy meadow, and now he was officially done. He lay here dying among the already dead. "Just leave me here, Mom. This is a nice quiet spot. I'll go not one step further."

As we drove to our home in DC, we sat in sober silence and finished listening to the narration. The words that Lincoln uttered in this very spot came to mind:

"that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."-Abraham Lincoln June 1, 1865