Having Visited the Jefferson Memorial

The Jefferson Memorial

I’m reluctant to admit this, but I am not a fan of touring historical sites–Monuments, memorials, museums (unless they’re art museums—I love touring art museums, even mediocre ones…). Also, I usually dislike guided tours. And generally speaking, I don’t like parades, either.

Then why on earth am I writing about having visited the Jefferson Memorial?

I didn’t want to go. Frank and I had only a few hours left in Virginia/Maryland, on our anniversary trip just a few days before Christmas. We were tired and cranky and not communicating well, each of us privately wrestling with crumpled expectations and minor disappointments common to the end of long anticipated getaways. It was cold and windy. I wanted to find an amazing boutique filled with vintage wonder, and Frank wanted to see the Jefferson Memorial. We settled on the Memorial, with me secretly hoping Frank couldn’t find parking. He found parking. We had to walk a bit, but it was a reasonable jaunt, heels and wind notwithstanding. I walked fast, Frank trailing me; I wanted to get it over with, struggling unsuccessfully to muster a supportive and cheerful attitude. But then, as we finished our ascension up the monument’s steps, the quiet, majestic magnitude of the memorial’s pillars overcame me (this happened at the Lincoln Memorial too).

We stepped inside the open air rotunda, with it soaring carved roof and Jefferson’s great statue set in a wide expanse between massive columns. In that great, still space, with a nation bustling and news breaking just beyond, I read Jefferson’s words carved in the marble cornice:

“I HAVE SWORN UPON THE ALTAR OF GOD ETERNAL HOSTILITY AGAINST EVERY FORM OF TYRANNY OVER THE MIND OF MAN”.

I don’t know Thomas Jefferson. I’ve read a little and watched a little about him, and from what I’ve learned, I admire his chutzpah. I don’t know him, but I am so glad these particular words of his are carved in stone and guarded by pillars. They are beautiful, good words. As I read them, I knew I stood on sacred ground.

I write about having visited the Jefferson Memorial, because I loved the visit, after all.

I loved my still, breath-held moments in that quiet place with his words, words that held the passion and one of the ideals of a newborn nation. I can still honestly say I don’t like touring historical sites. Just as I don’t like waiting at parades, or forcing myself to be patient when a tour guide starts their monologue. But I love finding myself there.