My Sister Visits Me In Washington, D.C., Day 4/New Years Eve

Day 3. December 31, 2014

The last day of 2014 began with a trip to Ford’s Theater. My sister and her BF failed to wake me up in time to go with them. Well. . . actually they woke me up when they were ready to leave.”Hey, wake up, we’re ready to go.” I’m not sure if they thought I was napping, but I was still in my pajamas with sleep face so we agreed to catch up later. I was running about an hour behind them, and made it to Ford’s Theater in time for the last lecture  of the day. (I made a stop at the FBI along the way. The X-Files fan in me couldn’t help it.)

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Ford’s Theater
The tour of Ford’s Theater was a bit of a letdown for me. They didn’t really give any instructions, so it was unclear if you were just supposed to walk in and walk out, or stay for a talk. They also only allowed you to take one brochure per family, which I thought was kind of stingy. Luckily I was on my own and didn’t have to share.

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I walked around it for about 15 minutes before a ranger came out to tell us a little about the events that led to the faithful night that Lincoln was assassinated. I was a bit disappointed by his story-telling abilities. He was monotone and it felt like someone was feeding him lines as he spoke, but this is what I learned:

John Wilks Booth was a famous actor who saw himself as “Brutus” to Lincoln’s “Caesar.” He felt that Lincoln was ruining the Union and that the people would rally behind him (Booth) in blind support after he assassinated Lincoln. Boy, was he wrong. After many months of conspiring to kill President Lincoln, Vice President Jackson, and Secretary of State Seward, Booth died in vain with a broken leg after a few days of being on the run. Lincoln died, and his death probably did more to bring the Union together than to tear it apart (although President Jackson was not much of an abolitionist).

So how did it happen?
Will, since this guy, Booth, was a famous actor, he had easy access to Ford’s Theater, and no one really thought twice when he walked in without a ticket. (Mind you, he’d been hanging out at the bar next door and staking out the theater for the President’s arrival all day.

How did Booth know the president would be there?
Well, the local newspaper had announced it. It had also mention that General Grant would be there too, but General Grant took a train home earlier that day and President Lincoln felt like he owed it to the people to show up, even if he really wasn’t feeling the theater that night. So anyway, there the president was, sitting in the rocking chair in his presidential balcony seat (This is a replica of what was actually there, the only original part of the theater is the facade–according to the ranger), when this Booth guy, walks in through the big yellow door. President’s didn’t have security back then. All Booth had to do was give the servant a calling card to gain entry.

So Booth had set things up earlier. He looks through a peep hole, waits for the loudest moment possible, and pulls the trigger. He shoots the President in the head, jumps out the balcony and onto the stage and yells, “Sic simper tyrannies!” Then ran off to escape.

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Meanwhile, the president was dying. There was no hope of his survival, and the goal was too keep him alive long enough for his family to say their good-byes. Military men, who just happened to be in the audience, drew their swords and used them to keep the chaotic crowd away from the president and carried him out into the streets. It was there that a man staying across the street yelled, “bring him here,” and offered his room up to the President.

The House Where Lincoln Died
By the time the ranger finished his talk, the museum was closed, so I meandered across the street to the house where Lincoln died. That’s when I ran into these mugs. They’d just finished the tour, so we decided to meet up after they grabbed lunch.

These two were freezing and ready for a hot meal, when we finally caught up.

These two were freezing and ready for a hot meal when we finally caught up.

I was more impressed with the house where Lincoln died than with Ford’s Theater. It really does a good job of commemorating the president, his life, his death, and the results thereafter. The tour begins with the viewing of the sitting room and the bedroom where the president died.

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After this, the rest of the museum is dedicated to not just the night that Lincoln died, but to the series of events that came afterward– from the funeral procession to the political aftermath of his assassination. I was most fascinated with how Jackson and Lincoln’s plans to reunite the Union were not in line with each other. After leaving, I couldn’t help but wonder how things would have played out differently if he hadn’t been killed.

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As I was leaving the museum, I received a message from my sister and her BF. They’d decided to hit the Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. “Perfect!” I thought. After having toured the House Where Lincoln died, all I wanted to do was go back to the Newseum to see if I could find some old newspapers about the day he died. I was pleasantly surprised to find a nook dedicated to the Civil War, the preservation of the Union, and Abraham Lincoln. My favorite part of this exhibit were the newspaper account of his death (note how the reports seem almost hour by hour on the same page,” and the Civil War “tweets.”

After exhausting all the information I could take in in one day, I left thinking, “all this time, in school they focused on how Lincoln equated to the abolition of slavery. Although, that was important, his larger legacy was in the preservation of the Union.”

(I enjoyed the Newseum so much that I ended up getting a one-year membership to it!)

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My sister and her BF were still at the wax museum when I left the Newseum, so I decided to make my way to the Botanical Gardens. I stopped to take a couple of pictures along the way.

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The Botanical gardens had a pretty cool holiday train exhibit that featured Thomas theTrain and Blackbeard’s Pirate Ship!

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I snapped these gorgeous sunset shots on the way back to the Metro.

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New Years Eve! It had been a long day and it was cold out, so we all weren’t full of energy to go out. While my sister’s BF slept, she and I got ready for a night in Old Town. A few hours later, we were all dressed up and he was sleeping. So we rallied my roommate and met up with some friends in Old Town Virginia around 11. At midnight, the crowds walked out of the bar to watch a beautiful firework show.

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We got there just in time to warm up

First Snowfall of 2015 in Washington D.C.

January 6, 2015/Three Kings Day 2015

Three King’s Day 2015 coincided with the District of Columbia’s first snowfall of the year. To celebrate the feeling of living in a “Winter Wonderland,” I took photos of the National Mall during my lunch break.

Here are the unfiltered, un-Photoshopped, un-cropped photographs.

I began my walk with a stop at Potomac Park

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Then I took a walk from the Lincoln to the World War II Memorial, where I got an nice view of the Washington Monument.

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I figured I may as well visit the Vietnam and Korean War Memorials. The effect in the snow made me think “Beautiful Tragedy.” They both felt more solemn than normal.

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I ended my lunch break with a view of the Jefferson Memorial and Reagan National Airport.

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P.S. I don’t think anyone was planning on biking today . . .

Frozen Capitol Bikeshare

My Sister Visits Me In Washington, D.C., Day 3

Day 3. December 30, 2014

The third day my sister was here we woke up eager to check out the only museum on her “Must See” list. The Newseum. The original plan was to visit the Newseum then explore more of the National Mall, but we ended up spending six hours taking in American History and the History of the Press through the eyes of journalists.

It became apparent that my sister, her bf, and I had different museum visiting strategies, so we split up right away and agreed to reconvene at lunch. We ended up meeting up at the end of the day.

Honestly, I thought we might not make it in to the Newseum to begin with because my sister spent one hour reading  the headlines. It was interesting to see how each state perceived what was Newsworthy. On this particular date it felt like most of Middle America’s front page news centered on football, whereas the coastal states featured news on the missing AirAsia plane or politics.

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A good portion of the Newseum was dedicated to the history of the press and its conflict with the government. The two need each other as much as they get in each other’s way, but probably the most enlightening part was how much the press and the people have worked together to affect political change.

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The headlines surrounding the civil rights movement were like a slap on the face. The actions taken by opponents to desegregation were barbaric. More interesting were the parallels between what happened then and what’s happening now with the Furguson Case.

I probably spent an hour in this section. My high school  American History class did not do this justice. Some of the articles made me sick to my stomach.

I probably spent an hour in this section. My high school American History class did not do this justice. Some of the articles made me sick to my stomach.

Some of the visual aids were shocking. The one of a truck full of bullet holes showed the extent that journalists will go to to bring us a story. The truck made my stomach churn. The journalist in it survived that attack, but it left me wondering what type of person it takes to risk his/her life in order to bring the people a story.

The museum makes a big deal about how journalist write our first drafts of history. I think that’s true. While the headlines might be sensational, the stories written this way gave me a different perspective on some major world events that my high school history classes glossed over.

What do you think? Are journalist crazy to take these risks or are they unsung heroes to the people’s cause?

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For me, two of the most emotional exhibits centered around 9/11 and the Pulitzer Prize winners. I could only handle these exhibit for a few minutes at a time because it brought to life the hard decisions that photographers must make on a daily basis.

It was interesting to see how different states and countries handled the headline treatment of the World Trade Center. Some of the headlines were sensitive and other’s were sensational, but they all made apparent the shocking news of the day.

The story that got me the most was one of a photographer who was documenting starving children in Africa, and how his decision to not intervene eventually lead to him taking his own life. To contrast that one, there was one of a photographer who helped a Vietnamese girl who was fleeing from Napalm (after he took her picture).

I only took a photo of one of my favorites picture, which is the one of a giant wave hitting a lighthouse.

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I finished my tour on a happier note with a tour of the Baby Boomer Generation.

We didn’t end up meeting up until the museum closed. Since it was cold out, we decided to explore the city a little bit and ended up at Ford’s Theater. We snapped some shots, then decided that it would be the next day’s activity.

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