If you asked me to list my top three experiences from my recent trip to DC (not including friends), I would say Capitol Hill, Ray’s Hellburger, and Arlington National Cemetary. I’ll try to write about all three at some point, but for now, let’s just start with one.
Arlington National Cemetery. One of two national cemeteries administered by the Army. 6,700 funerals a year. 300,000 bodies of service(wo)men and their spouses and their families. Row after row after row after row of tombstones. These are the remains of those who gave their lives to establish and protect our country, our freedoms, our way of life. (And yes, I understand that many died in wars that were fought for reasons far less idealistic.) In a way far more visceral than the grandeur of the World War II memorial, the haunting visages of the Korean, and the understated sea of names etched upon the Vietnam, these tombstones proclaimed, “Here lies sacrifice. Live life. Honor it.”
I’m not sure why, but within 15 seconds, my mind whirred to the Cross. It too marks a death. A death that saved me from a fate far worse than “taxation without representation.” How much greater is the sacrifice? How much more should my life be changed?
A most unexpected find was the Women’s Memorial, which should actually be renamed to the Women’s Memorial Museum. On one interior wall is a series of exhibits documenting the history of women in the armed forces (both officially and unofficially). On the other wall…oh man, on the other wall, is a series of (decently) matched photographs and personal stories of present-day service members / veterans. The stories provide a glimpse into their lives. Their eyes, a glimpse into their souls.
(Left to Right)
Sgt. First Class Kim Dionne, US Army Reserve
Col. Jenny Holbert, US Marine Corp, Retired
Sgt. Mikeishia Kennedy, Virginia Army National Guard
Usually I see the pomp and ceremony of a “changing of the guards” reserved for a country’s royalty or high officials. Instead, at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, this honor is bestowed (fittingly) upon those who died: unknown, unidentified, but unforgotten.
