On July 4, thanking God for our nation’s citizenry, while looking past the fences
The first of June, my family and I made a return visit to Washington, D.C. We had been there in 2016 when our nation was embroiled in a presidential election. We had planned this trip a year ago. We wanted to visit not only Washington, but Philadelphia and the Amish country of Pennsylvania. But rioting broke out in the very places we had hoped to visit, so we canceled our vacation until this year.
We didn’t necessarily want to revisit some of the national monuments, because we knew many of them were closed to the public. A friend wanted me to take a picture of the fence around the Capitol to assure him it was strong enough “to keep the inmates in until they had served their time.” The mammoth complex stood in the overcast sky like an enormous prison, a symbol of our national condition. Union Station stood mostly empty, far from the bustling hub it had been on our previous visit. But we didn’t allow that to dictate our happiness.
It seemed Washington was slowly waking out of the self-induced coma of the COVID shutdown. Hardy business owners were shaking off the shutters of the nightmare of 2020. The front lines of the hospitality industry, hotel and restaurant employees, were friendly and efficient. The taxi drivers were entertaining and full of information about what was happening around town. The silence and tranquility of Arlington National Cemetery seemed like a sanctuary from the rancor of national debate. For a moment, everyone touring the cemetery seemed to be united as citizens, grateful for the sacrifice others made for our national freedoms.
We walked past Ford’s Theatre, where Abraham Lincoln was shot, and the Petersen House across the street, where the president died. Both places were still closed. But we were able to walk a few doors down the street to Lincoln’s Waffle Shop, a throwback restaurant with faded signs, and old tables and chairs from the 1950s — operated by a delightful Asian family. It was bustling with neighborhood regulars and tourists. Our host, an elderly gentleman, could not have been more friendly and welcoming. It was truly a wonderful experience to spend the lunch hour where we were all citizens, not political voting blocs.
We also went north to Philadelphia and walked among the memories of America. We sat in the shade in front of Independence Hall, reflecting on what that building represented. In that solitude, we had a delightful moment of petting an ultra-friendly dog a lady was walking on a leash. We were citizens in the shade! We joined the long line of parents, schoolchildren and people from all over the world as we waited to view the Liberty Bell, and have our picture taken by this symbol of freedom.
Benjamin Franklin’s grave was just down the street, covered with pennies. Nearby were buried several men who were signers of the Declaration of Independence. Betsy Ross’s house was nearby, and we saw how she crafted our first national flag in her little upholstery shop. But maybe one of the best memories of Philadelphia was eating at a corner pizza restaurant run by two elderly women. We found them to be quite delightful, and their food delicious.
As I celebrate our nation’s birthday, I am not going to mourn because I couldn’t get beyond the fences of the Capitol and the White House. I am going to look away from those buildings, and give God thanks for my fellow citizens we met in the commons of America.