With collapsed buildings, anthrax and the threat of more terrorism in the back of my mind, I headed to Washington, D.C. for the last weekend in October.
I traveled down south with my beat partner to cover two games for the women’s soccer team in what was a big road trip for the team. I also saw the trip as a chance to experience how the city was reacting to what was going on.
After covering the soccer game on Friday night in Richmond, I decided to use my off day to walk around the capital city, take in the sites, and talk to some patrons about the situation. I headed up to my favorite place in D.C., the Lincoln Memorial.
Not knowing what to expect, I was amazed at the number of people on the grounds that day. I spoke to a few people while there, and found that the reasons for coming to see the Great Emancipator were varied. Some had planned the trip long in advance and felt that seeing this man that “led the nation through its worst time” was even more important now, a thought shared by others that were having trouble keeping a tear or two from shedding while reading the Emancipation Proclamation.
There was also a wedding party at the memorial having its picture taken. I found this odd and asked a member of the wedding party if this had always been the plan. He told me that the original plan was to take the pictures at the reception hall, but they were changed over the past few weeks. It seems that everyone was celebrating freedom in some way that day.
I continued on to both the Vietnam and Korean War Memorials. There was something touching about watching men and women, as old as my parents, taking a tracing of one of the names off the great wall at the Vietnam Memorial. With everything else going on, it was impossible not to get a little misty-eyed.
I followed this up by walking down the length of the reflecting pool to the Washington Monument and watched a few minutes of coed flag football, then decided to check out the American History Museum on the Mall.
Inside the museum was a tribute to the position of the American President. Harry Truman compared the role of president to “riding a tiger,” which seems at least as appropriate now as it was when he said it.
Within the presidential display was a timeline of what the presidents were dealing with. I took a lot of time looking at this. I checked out everything significant that has gone on politically and really tried to grasp the significance of those times while trying to relate them to 2001.
After a long day of sightseeing and quasi-reporting, I was ready to relax and take in an IMAX show at the Air and Space Museum (where I was supposed to meet my beat partner an hour or so later). I bought the ticket and walked into a movie about the different types of adventures in California. It was a lot of fun for the first twenty minutes, until…
Suddenly, the lights in the theater came on. The hundred or so in attendance thought nothing of it and tried to enjoy the rest of the movie until four security guards came trotting into the theater. At that moment, I found what I was looking for throughout the trip; an understanding of what it is like to live in a city under attack.
The security guards told us to grab our belongings and exit the theater immediately. The building was being evacuated. They offered to give us free passes if we kept our stubs and came back at another time, as if a six-dollar refund was on my mind at the time!
Without taking a single breath on the long walk from the theater to exit, I forced myself to morph from crazed-bystander guy back into super-reporter (ok, closer to Jimmy Olsen than Superman). I was reaching into my back pocket for my reporter’s notebook as I opened the exit and walked into a sight I will never forget.
Two fire engines, an ambulance and unmarked flashing cars surrounded the exit, along with a handful of common folk and D.C.’s finest. As I walked toward some of the congregated firemen, hunting down an explanation, I noticed two men getting into radiation suits and immediately assumed that someone suspected anthrax in the museum.
I trotted over to the street vendor next door and purchased a disposable camera for at least twice its value and started snapping photos of everything I could. After getting some dirty looks from what I can only assume were Secret Service agents, I decided to put the camera away to try to get some answers.
The firemen weren’t talking, at least until I found one that was Italian-looking and convinced him that our relatives were probably Ginzo-ing around the home country somewhere back in the day. He informed me that a large amount of blue powder was found in the ladies’ room on the second floor and while just about everyone was convinced that it was makeup, no one was taking any chances anymore.
I met up with my beat partner, and we waited around to hear the final ruling from the radiation-suited men who went into said bathroom. They confirmed that there was nothing to fear.
While it turned out to be nothing, I certainly learned more about living in fear in the fifteen minutes at the Air and Space Museum than I had all day asking questions. I guess it proves that hearing about something and watching it on television can only give you an idea about what is going on in the world. It takes an honest experience to truly understand. And I know I will never forget what happened to me.
