The Capital of My childhood
She was five years old when her family moved to Washington, D.C.
Her father had become Secretary to Congressman Paul Stewart from
the great State of Oklahoma.
That was the start of her love affair with the United States Capitol.
She and her mother would often meet her dad in the Capitol to
attend special sessions of Congress. She remembered the time her
mother just had to be in the gallery at a committee hearing because
her mom's favorite actor and heart-throb, Robert Taylor, (remember
him) was being questioned by Senator Joe McCarthy's Committee on
un-American Activities. That was a time when a lot of wonderful
authors were labeled communist sympathizers and Black Listed
from writing their plays and movies for far too long. That was her
first experience with conspiracy theories. Her mother's only
comment on the event was that Robert Taylor was much shorter in
person.
Her dad was part of Harry Truman's Inaugural Committee so the
family had extra special seating at the Capitol to watch the president
sworn into office and see the beginning of the inaugural parade. Her
mother, wearing a pale green suit and a pink flowered hat, went to
tea at the White House, hosted by Bess Truman.
As she grew older she would ride the streetcar to the Capitol and
meet her dad for lunch. They would eat in the House Dining Room.
Her favorite dish was navy bean soup. She wanted to be a page on
the House Floor but her dad couldn't swing it, though he tried. At
that time, only boys could be pages. That was her first experience
with gender inequality. During and after WWII, there were
wonderful, free concerts on the Capitol steps by Marine, Navy and
Army bands. At special times, children were let out of school and
lined up on Pennsylvania Avenue to wave little flags from different
countries as presidents, prime ministers and dignitaries came to visit
the Capitol. She loved the special programs on the Fourth of July
and the fireworks that lit up the sky from the Washington Monument
grounds. At least the fire works still happen.
When she started high school, Saturday mornings were spent in the
Library of Congress Reading Room working on endless term papers.
Afternoons were spent riding a tram in the basement of the Library,
to and from the Capitol, looking for or hiding from friends. Once
she left half a pizza on a tram seat and woudn't go back until she
was sure she wasn't going to be arrested. Those were such happy
times. Then came a heart breaking time when she and her friends
stood in line for hours and hours waiting to get into the Rotunda to
say goodbye to John F. Kennedy, the first president I was old enough
to vote for. These are my memories. I was that young woman.
That was then and this is now and it seems to me that the good times
ended for me and my Capitol with the assassination of John
Kennedy. Nothing was ever quite the same after that time. So I was
not surprised when on January Sixth, 2021, my Capitol was invaded
and desecrated by a rabble that doesn't deserve the freedoms my
Capitol provided them all their sordid, ignorant, ungrateful lives. I
am shocked and grieved to my core that this happened to my
Capitol, to my Country. Every time I see a video of what happened
my eyes fill with tears. I mourn for the Capitol of My Childhood
and for the joy and pride I once felt for my Country
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