Tag Archives: Washington D.C.

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DASH, THE CANINE BOB HOPE

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

dash-croppedWell…it’s been quite a week.  I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to discuss something – anything – other than the election.  Luckily, there are two events that have my attention – Veteran’s Day and Dash the Wonder Dog’s fourth birthday.  On the surface there wouldn’t seem to be any connection between those two events but this week I discovered that my beloved pet is the Bob Hope of dogs, ready to entertain the troops at a moment’s notice.  As you may recall, Dash began his working life last spring when he got a job at a local care center.  Each week he trots into the facility like he owns the joint and cuddles up with the residents.  He shamelessly begs for treats, which many of them readily provide.  He is especially fond of people who have poor hand-eye coordination because the floor around their bed or wheelchair is a veritable treasure trove of crumbs and shattered crackers.  Fortunately for Dash, such people are in plentiful supply, plus they have the added attraction of fawning over him as he roots around for their droppings.

pets-on-wheels

This week Dash was lucky enough to call on several men who were celebrating Veteran’s Day.  Most of them are former dog owners so they especially appreciate being able to pet and hold Dash.  I have observed that most of the veterans’ walls are adorned with photos of themselves in uniform, American flags, and commemorative awards and medals.  This week the center gave them special recognition at a Veteran’s Day celebration, replete with music from the ’40’s and a special memento plaque.  One of my favorite veterans is a 97-year-old man whose mental acuity puts me to shame.  The first time we visited I remarked on a photo of him in a WWII fighter plane.  “Oh yes”, he said, “I was 19 years old when I enlisted.  It was a good time to be 19 because I was too young to have the good sense to be scared“.  That said, he wheeled around and pulled a sheet of paper out of his drawer.  On it was a typed list of the FIFTY missions that he flew in Europe.  That is an extraordinary number of missions – the maximum allowed by the Air Force at the time.  He is still quite proud of his accomplishment, as well he should be.  Last week I noticed that he had the book “Killing the Rising Sun” on his bed.  There is a picture of General MacArthur on the cover so I mentioned to him that my husband and his family were rescued from a Japanese internment camp by Mac Arthur.  “Humph,” he said, “I think there’s only one word for MacArthur – pompous!”.  As I said, he’s as sharp as a tack.   We discovered last summer that this wonderful man and I share a birthday.  I can only hope that portends I will be as engaged and dynamic as he is at 97.

wwii-womenAlso residing in the care center is a retired four-star general and a man who fought in the Battle of the Bulge.  I love talking with these men, not only because they love being entertained by Dash, but because I have such unbridled admiration for their service and frankly, the dedication of their entire generation.  I read just enough sociology books to be boring at parties, and one recent phenomenon that worries me is the rise of the “cupcake” or “snowflake” generation – young people who are easily offended, shrink away from any opinion that differs from their own, and seek the constant reassurance of hearing “good job”.   I think about the “Greatest Generation” by comparison, whose work ethic and approach to life was forged by the Great Depression and World War II.  Most, like my own parents, didn’t have the money for college.  Their families “made do” during the Depression and when war broke out they volunteered and did whatever they could to contribute to the war effort.  That generation knew a lot of sacrifice and hard work.  They didn’t expect anything to be handed to them and learned how to face adversity with renewed resolve.  The World War II vets are dying at a rate of 1100 a day, and it is estimated that by the end of the decade almost all of them will all be gone.  We will be the worse for it.  So it was a privilege this week to wish the men in the care center a happy Veteran’s Day – we need to cherish them while we still have them.

As for Dash – we will celebrate his special day on Wednesday with treats and – if my husband isn’t looking – a cute little birthday hat.  I can’t believe how quickly the past four years have passed.  Our lives are forever changed by having this sweet and loving dog in our lives.  He makes us smile every day and his kisses, which he so lavishly dispenses, act as a salve to mend any cracks  in our hearts.  I have to say he really is a wonder dog.  Last week a nurse at the care center asked us to visit a new patient in the memory unit.  Dash crawled up on her bed and she stroked and cooed for five minutes.  When we left the nurse said it was the first time in three days that the woman had smiled.  In short, he makes everything – and everyone – better.  Maybe I should send him to Washington.

Posted in opinion

THE WATSONS WALK WASHINGTON – PART TWO

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Eleanor Roosevelt in 1933

Eleanor Roosevelt in 1933

When last I left you I was in Washington DC,  exhausted, achy and feeling every day of my age.  But sleep is a magical antidote and sure enough, the next morning I was raring to go.   After another trip on the Metro (we had already learned how to shove ourselves into a crowded train car), we began our day at the Smithsonian Museum of American History.  If left to my own devices, I would still be wandering around there. If you love history, The Smithsonian is nirvana.  We toured it twice and STILL didn’t visit every exhibit.  We loved the wing that displays various artifacts from the Presidents’ administrations but were particularly enthralled with the Inaugural Ball gowns of the First Ladies.  Not only were they beautiful examples of couture fashion, but the exhibit gives you a different perspective on the size of the women who wore them.  For example, I always thought of Eleanor Roosevelt as a rather large woman but her dress would indicate the opposite.  So maybe it was just her height that made her seem big.  Or it could be that since this was her first of FOUR Inaugural gowns, the talent of the White House pastry chef took its toll.  I saw a picture of her 1945 gown and let’s just say that by then even a good pair of Spanx would not have helped her into the gown from 1933.  And who among us can’t relate to that?

Holocaust Shoes

A fraction of the shoes in the display

Next we went to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum.  I have always had a special interest in WWII so I was anxious to see it.  I was particularly heartened to see that Katie and Abby were very interested in learning more about it and absorbing all that they could.  The building itself is a marvelous structure, four stories high, light in the center atrium but dark and somber on the perimeters.  As you begin the journey through the museum with movies, pictures and artifacts from the early years of the war, the hallways are quite narrow and gives one a slight sensation of what it must have been like to be hoarded like cattle to an unknown destination – everyone pushing and jockeying for position.  To compare one section or display of the museum as being the “most” anything – frightening, scary, sad, depressing – is futile.   Each person needs to judge for him/herself what is the most meaningful.  Personally, I found the exhibit of over 4,000 shoes on loan from the Auschwitz museum the most unforgettable.  Shoes and other personal items  were taken from the prisoners upon entry to Auschwitz and sorted for distribution to local citizens or shipment back to Germany.  At the end of the war when the camp was liberated there were hundreds of thousands of shoes piled up.  In 1945 when the great journalist Edward R. Murrow visited Auschwitz he saw the shoes and wrote the following:  “One shoe, two shoes, a dozen shoes, yes.  But how can you describe several thousand shoes?”  The fact is, you can’t.

After the emotional experience of visiting the Holocaust Museum we were in need of fresh air and food.  We found our way to the Shake Shack – one of the more delightful eating establishments I’ve frequented.  As the name implies, there is ice cream involved here.  LOTS of ice cream.  We each had burgers and possibly the best french fries I’ve ever tasted and then moved in for the real deal…ice cream.  How good was it?  I could have taken a bath in it.  I’m glad I don’t live in D.C. – I’d be a Shake Shack junkie.  As it was, I needed to get on with the business of why I really came to Washington.

This is as close as they let me get

This is as close as they let me get

The fact is, I have had my medical insurance cancelled due to the ACA.  All I did was raise my deductible way back in 2010 and – whammo! – they cancelled me this year.  Lots of people In Washington had assured me that if I like my policy I could keep it, so I decided I’d go right to the horse’s …. mouth to get some answers.  I started with the White House.  We had requested a tour and I thought perhaps I could just ever so briefly pop into the Oval Office to see if the President would hear me out.  Unfortunately, they told us that they weren’t giving tours that day.  The picture (left) is as close as I got to the Oval Office.  I was going to shout my questions across the lawn but there were some men on the business end of a some weaponry patrolling the perimeter.    They looked like they had had a lot of experience with “kooks”.  I decided to look elsewhere for answers, which brought us to the National Archives.  Nothing like a little bolstering from the Founding Fathers.  I’m not sure they ever had to deal with Blue Cross Blue Shield, but they seemed to be pretty far-sighted on a number of issues so I thought they might also have some insight on deductibles.  Turns out, the line to see the Declaration of Independence, The Bill of Rights and the Constitution was the longest we waited in all week.   After 45 minutes we finally were let into the rotunda where the three documents are displayed.  It is somewhat surreal to see them in person, although “see” might be stretching it a bit  For example, the Declaration of Independence was kept in a west-facing window for over 40 years and was thereafter subjected to flash photography until 2012.  So unfortunately it is so faded that unless someone told you you were looking at the Declaration of Independence, you might think you’re looking at an estimate for getting your car repaired.  Still, to see the founding documents is a real thrill and inspired me to continue on my quest.

Be sure you “subscribe” so you don’t miss out on next week’s thrilling conclusion.

 

Posted in opinion

THE WATSONS WALK WASHINGTON – PART ONE

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

The Watsons at the Washington Memorial

The Watsons at the Washington Memorial

Several weeks ago my niece, Shelley, asked me if I’d like to accompany her and my two great-nieces to Washington DC over Spring Break. It took me a day to mull it over – not because I didn’t want to go but because I was afraid that “Old Aunt Sue”, as I am affectionately known, might drag down the trip.  After all, my two great-nieces, Katie and Abby, are elite athletes and Shelley is an ace tennis player.  I try to walk 10,000 steps per day, which is about 5 miles, but the sport I excel at is sitting on the couch, knitting and watching re-runs of Downton Abbey.  Often when I move the snaps, crackles and pops that emanate from my back, hips and knees are reminiscent of Rice Krispies.  But what the heck, it was the chance of a lifetime so I packed my ibuprofen and off I went.  Through some cosmic coincidence, my niece’s husband is also a Watson so the trip was dubbed “The Watsons Go To Washington”.  We met up in Dallas and flew into Reagan airport, landing at 12:30 a.m.  I was already way out of my element…even though my “body time” was 9:30, I was ready for bed.  We hopped in a cab and made the rookie mistake of telling our cab driver we wanted the “fastest” route to our Bethesda hotel.  He interpreted that as “speediest” so he took us the long way via freeway vs. the short way via city streets.  So it took 20 minutes and $30 more than it should have.  The rubes had arrived.

The WWII Pacific Memorial

The WWII Pacific Memorial

The next day we set off to see the sights.  We quickly learned the Metro system, which is pretty much like every other rail system in the U.S. – it’s crowded, makes frequent stops, and is full of “interesting” people .  After a 20 minute ride we disembarked in downtown Washington and began our walk to the National Mall.  The first thing that struck me was the sheer size of it.  It spans two miles from the Lincoln Memorial on one end to the Capital Building on the other.  We decided to split up our tour – half one day and half the other.  Since the Lincoln and War Memorials were high on our “must see” list, we began there.  First up was the Washington Memorial.  Unfortunately, it was under construction or as the guides told us, it was undergoing a face lift.  Aha!  Something I could relate to – I felt like I was back in Scottsdale.  We ventured on to the World War II Memorial which is  massive and beautifully thought out.  One side is devoted to the Atlantic theater and the other to the Pacific.  The countries where the fighting occurred and the names of the major battles are listed on the fountains under each cupola.  The most sobering feature was the wall of stars – over 450 gold stars on a field of blue, each star representing 100 men who died in the war.  No WWII vets were visiting when we were there but I imagine it must be overwhelming for them to see such a stunning tribute. 

Abby's perfect picture

Abby’s perfect picture

 

From there we walked along the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool to the (you guessed it) Lincoln Memorial.  Let me just say …it is HUGE.  Oh sure,we’ve all seen it in text books and movies but really, you cannot grasp the scale of it until you’re standing on it.  My knees and I would like to report that there are 145 steps from the Pool up to the Memorial…and another 145 back down.  But the trip was totally worth it.  The Gettysburg address is carved on the left chamber and Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address on the right.  I was struck by how moving both of those speeches are; they were artfully crafted and in language that is plain yet eloquent.  And most importantly, you get the sense that Lincoln labored over every word until it exactly reflected his beliefs and hopes for the nation.  A bit different from the “double speak” we hear today, written by professional speech writers and delivered via teleprompter.  When we walked around the perimeter of the monument,  Abby, a budding photographer, took the picture (right) that perfectly frames the Washington Monument in the distance.

Next up was the Vietnam Wall.  I’m not sure that anything can prepare you when faced with all of those names on the wall.  It is truly overwhelming.  I knew five boys from my small home town that died in that war.  Seeing their names carved in marble is something I will never forget.  I’ll write more about that experience in another blog.  We sat on a bench near the memorial to rest and plan the remainder of our day.  By this time I was exhausted (mentally and physically) so we ventured to the Reagan Commerce Building for lunch.  I eased myself down in my chair, every bone in my body aching and desperately in need of serious drug intervention.  Alas, I had forgotten to put my ibuprofen in my purse but Shelley saved the day by giving me some of hers.  I don’t think anything has ever felt so good as when those pills started to take effect.  So, now laced with pain-killing drugs, I was ready to go.  We decided to visit one of the lesser-known museums – the National Portrait Gallery.  It is a fabulous museum and, among other things, holds the most extensive portrait gallery of American presidents outside the White House.  I didn’t read the fine print on the information panel and took a picture with my cell phone with the flash feature on.  Apparently this is frowned upon and brought immediate action by the security guards.  I had visions of being hauled off to the hoosegow.  Luckily, they have seen hopelessly ignorant people before and gently told me to turn off the flash.  As if I knew how to do that.  I did notice that they followed me at close range for the rest of the day.

By the time we left the Gallery it was early evening so we headed for the Metro station and back to Bethesda.  I checked my pedometer when we got back to the room and was amazed to see that we had walked NINE miles.  No wonder I was moving like a hippopotamus in three feet of mud.  A break was definitely in order.  Abby worked on editing her photos, Katie went to the gym for a 50 minute run on the treadmill (because nine miles just wasn’t enough exercise), while Shelley and I exercised our arms lifting wine glasses in the bar.  That night I flopped into bed, took more ibuprofen, and prepared for the next day and my real reason for coming to Washington.

To be continued next week…