I had my final training meeting as a volunteer for the dedication of the National World War II Memorial this evening. Actually, I had a choice – I could have either gone tonight, or tomorrow night. Something was pressuring me inside to go tonight, but I couldn’t really explain why. I was miserable when I woke up today; my head has been killing me for seven days straight, I couldn’t see clearly, and I just wanted to crawl right back into bed. But I went. Thanks mostly to my Father, who agreed to drive me downtown so I wouldn’t have to drive with the worry of passing out.

Another internal pressure that I decided not to ignore was to take my camera tonight. I wasn’t sure why. After all, it was just another thing to lug, and what if I lost it? I wasn’t planning on getting the chance to see the memorial anywa, so what was the point?

As soon as I arrived at the training meeting, I was so grateful I listened to that prompting. At the very first training meeting way back in April I was blessed with the opportunity to meet an absolutely amazing man. His name is Bush (“No relation to Dubya!” he laughed), he’s in his 70’s now, and he served in World War II. He was a paratrooper during the Battle of the Bulge at the age of 18. He was shot five times during that battle, but just kept on going. He was also part of the battalion that liberated Auswitz. Bush and I took quite a liking to each other and spent the entire evening together at training, talking, laughing, discussing life in the 1940’s, and giggling about Betty Grable’s “sexy legs”. He showed me miniature versions of all of the medals that he had won during the war, and believe me, there were a lot of them. He was so humble, so quiet about his service, saying he was just doing what any other American man would have done.

Tonight, I got to see Bush again. I walked into the training meeting at the Navy Memorial on Pennsylvania Avenue and as soon as I walked into the room, I heard a very happy voice call my name. I turned around to see Bush standing up to greet me, extending his arms to hug me, the biggest smile possible on his face. After he hugged me and we said hello, he nearly broke into tears when he thanked me for a note I sent him a few weeks ago. After meeting him, I was so overwhelmed by his history that I sent him just a small note to thank him for everything he had done for our country, and everything he sacrificed in the process. I wanted to tell him what was in my heart, how I believed that I owed my happiness in life in part to him, because he preserved everything that I love about the United States. I literally couldn’t sleep that night after that first training meeting without writing it all down and sending it to him.


He got my note, and he was standing there tonight, his arms on my shoulders, telling me how much that meant to him. And thank heavens I had my camera, because I wanted nothing more than to take his picture so I could pin a copy of that picture to my bag on dedication day, along with the other veterans who inspired me to volunteer. He’s a hero, and he deserves to be thanked and recognized. He was one in 16 million who served, but he made a difference individually, and I love him for it.

So I got a picture of my buddy Bush. He waited for me so we could catch a shuttle bus together to go down to the Mall for the second half of our training. He’s a cutie, and I’ll miss him greatly after this whole dedication business is over.

But, as if it wasn’t enough already to make me grateful for bringing my camera, after training was over I realized I was close enough to the Memorial itself to head over there to take a few pictures while I waited for Dad to pick me up. My timing couldn’t have been better – as soon as I crossed 17th Street and entered the Memorial, music began to play, the fountains were lit, and a ballet began in the middle of the Memorial. It was gorgeous; a story of a young couple preparing to be separated before the war, only to return all these many years later as veterans, visiting their memorial for the very first time. The ballet was a dress rehearsal – they were going to film it after a few more practices. They had lit the memorial specially – the Pacific archway was bathed in blue light, and the plaque at the front of the memorial was lit from the ground, creating beautiful shadows across the carved eagle.

I managed to get several pictures before the ballet was over, including one photo that I think is one of my all-time favorite photos ever from my portfolio. There were lots of lucky shots; those dancers were moving so quickly, and in the midst of it all, my batteries died. I was frantically digging through my purse to find at least one spare battery so I could continue taking pictures. Thankfully, there was exactly one battery, so I swapped it out for a dead one, hoping to get just enough juice for a few more pictures.

I got my photos. So many, in fact, that I missed Dad as he drove by the first time, causing him to make another loop around the Lincoln Memorial and back up Constitution Avenue.

I’ve just now organized the photos I’ve taken of the Memorial and put them all into a web gallery, along with the photos of the ballet. At least, the ballet pictures that aren’t terribly blurry. 🙂 Click here to see. Every time I go to the memorial, every time I look at the pictures, I think of more and more people that I want to show this to in person. I think of all the people I love that I want to share it with. And I know that probably sounds really cheesy, but it’s true. Volunteering with the dedication, and now with the Smithsonian WWII Reunion, my love for this city has grown all the more. I’ve been downtown more in the past few months than I probably have in the past few years of living in Virginia. And sure, sometimes I grumble about the hassle of the traffic, but it never fails that once I drive past the Lincoln Memorial, once I have the chance to look up to the tip of the Washington Monument, I forget the hassle. And I remember how proud I am to have the access to the culture, the history, and the patriotism that Washington, DC has to offer. I remember how proud I am to be American.

I really don’t think I’m going to be able to get through this weekend with dry eyes. Memorial Day weekend has never meant so much to me before. Last year, I’ll be honest, Memorial Day really, really stunk. I was in a rut, I was feeling horrible. But now, I couldn’t be happier. I’ve been given a priceless opportunity to become a part of something of great national importance. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. For once, I’m not just witnessing history, I’m a part of it. And it’s a part of history that I’m really proud of, a part of history that I believe I owe a gesture of gratitude.

Please, watch the dedication ceremony. It’ll be televised this Saturday on the History Channel and C-SPAN. In fact, I think they’re also airing the Service of Thanksgiving from the Washington National Cathedral, so you should watch that too. This is important. Of the 16 million American men and women who served in WWII, only 4 million are still alive. A huge percentage of those veterans will be in attendance here in Washington. This is so incredibly important, it’s been such a long time coming, and they have deserved it like no one else. It’s a beautiful memorial, and I know this Saturday will be a beautiful experience.

And I can guarantee that I will be taking photographs like mad. I begin work on Thursday on the Mall with the Smithsonian Institution. You wouldn’t believe the amount of work and love that’s been dedicating to making this weekend special for everyone who attends. So much is going on and it’s really going to be fantastic. And I’ll be documenting it as best I can with notes and photographs. 🙂

Can you tell I’m just a little bit excited? And holy crap, I just looked at the clock. I think I’d better get some sleep now. Happy early Memorial Day, everybody. Now go hug a veteran. 🙂