Day 6 of D.C.

Sunday, June 7.

We began the day by sleeping in a bit and then traveling to the Washington D.C. CRC. We took the Metro north to Ft. Totten station where we caught the K6 bus to the church. We are neophytes to the art of bus transit. Getting on the bus--easy. Getting off the bus, a little help needed. We got on the right bus--exact change, no problem. I grew in confidence as we made our way towards the church. The street we needed to get off came on the screen--no hassles so far. We approached the street. I started to shift my weight to stand, and then the bus kept going and didn't stop. One block past, now two.... "Hey, umm, stop!" No one told us about the yellow cord along the window that you pull to request to get off the bus. Leah figured it out before I did, but the kindly fellow across the aisle saw our distress before she got to the cable. Thankfully he pulled the cord and the bus slowed to a stop about three blocks past where we needed to be.

We weren't very late to church and we enjoyed the fellowship after the service. I was approached after the service by an elderly woman who introduced herself as being from Hull originally. Her first name escapes me now, but she said that she was originally a Pals (now Monsma) and lived a couple blocks from what was then, Western Christian Academy. She attended Calvin College and then moved to D.C. in the 1940's. Now 91, she is a charter member of the Washington D.C. CRC. Graciously, we were spared more bus embarrassment by getting a ride back to the Ft. Totten Metro station and we headed back to the middle of the city.

We stopped briefly at home to change and then headed to Dupont Circle for some lunch. We also took a walk through the neighborhood which contains Embassy Row.

From there, we traveled to Arlington. For the girls, it was just a long walk, I think. For me, walking through that large cemetery was humbling. Thousands and thousands of tombstones of those killed in war or those who survived and are honored by being buried in this National Cemetery. We stopped at John F. Kennedy's gravesite and then made our way to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier to witness the changing of the guard. Heels click in unison. Expressions are grim and stoic. I tried to count silently to 21--anticipating the steps and the moves of the guards.
The guard's rifle clacks when it slaps into the guards hand. Each move of the sergeant at arms is precise, almost mechanical.

I would like to have stayed longer, but the girls had seen enough. I think in their youth, cemeteries are lost on them. They have a lot more living to do.

We headed back into the city and went to a restaurant named Luigis. This had to be one of the best meals that we had during our trip. We had a whole range of Italian food that we could have ordered, but we kept it simple. Pizza. Fantastic pizza. We copied a combination that we like to have at home. It has a Mediterranean feel to it: grilled chicken, feta cheese, artichoke hearts, tomatoes, and Greek olives. Oh my. I can still taste it.

We walked for a while after dinner, and made it to the White House again. I snapped a few more pictures and then we walked down to the Mall one last time. We enjoyed seeing the monuments illuminated at night. When we tired of walking, we hopped on the Metro for our final ride home.

Monday morning came. Time to leave. I went for one final run. It is a little strange to think that one can run beside the Capitol building in the AM and then 12 hours later be driving through the farmland of NW Iowa.