Who doesn't want to go to Washington, D.C. especially in April when the cherry trees around the Tidal Basin are in bloom? It’s the nation’s
capital, packed with granite and marble memorials and statues honoring our
heritage and past heroes. When I went in
1975 the Mall, the area between Capitol Hill and the Lincoln Memorial, was
undergoing a total revamp. I’d already
seen the Archives, National Museum, and the Washington Monument at the
top. My plans for Gettysburg were dashed
by a bus strike and my failure to qualify for a credit card. The man at the car rental place said cash wasn't enough. He mentioned a priest who’d
paid in cash and skipped out with the car.
The people of Washington were
considerate and nice to me even though I was just from the hustings or fly-over
area that they’d never visit themselves.
I remember the nice black lady with the short dress on the corner
calling me slim: “Slim, hey slim!” Then
there was the Soul Brother on Fourteen Street who directed me to the back of
the bus: “Hey white boy, white boy - Back of the bus!” What a nice fellow, telling me where the
empty seats were. Then there was the
seven foot stranger in the white trench coat outside St. John’s Church on
Sunday. He’s in the picture.
By the time I’d met him, I was on my
way out of town towards National Airport shouldering my trusty K-Mart back
pack. I’m tall, but this guy was a giant
especially in the crowd that had gathered outside the church. I had no idea what was going on and I asked
him. He replied, “President Ford is
coming out of church.” There was a
collective murmur and President Ford, my soon to be Commander in Chief, did come out with Betty and Susan out front. It was nice for the tall fellow to have told
me about the event because I would have skipped the crowd and gone directly for
the subway and airport. He didn’t seem
to be much interested; he kept looking at the crowd. Maybe he’d seen a President before. At the time I’d only seen Harry Truman. I took three pictures with my Instamatic and
that was that.
I’ll never forget my trip to
Washington even though it was unseasonably cold. Lafayette Park was beautiful with new spring
plantings and there weren't any trucker demonstrators around the White House
like there were a few days before. (I
guess demonstrators rest on Sundays.) Everything
seemed more fresh and simple in those days and even the White House was free of
fortifications and Secret Service men with shoulder anti-aircraft
missiles. Everyone I met was in his own
little world and I in mine. Soul Brother
was quite a character. He even offered
to buy my Eisenhower jacket for a nickel, but perhaps I’ll remember the lady on
the corner the most. Yes, I was slim in
those days and I had hair.
