Road Trip: Washington, DC

One of the more important road trips I ever made in my life was to Washington, DC. Yes, our nation's capital city. Of course, it is the home for the President, Vice-President and Congress. It is the seat of power for our country. It is where partnerships come together for a cause. That was why I was there.

It was the end of May 2003 and into the first few days of June when I was there. This was about a year and a half after the terror attacks on our country from September 11, 2001. The city was recovering from that brutal day still trying to locate some sense of normalcy. This meant some places were still inaccessible and other places still cautious. I was there for a cause though.

People go to Washington for causes all the time. Frankly, I don't see how anyone anymore can look at the various causes that take place there and not think how trite and unoriginal it all has become. Since it happens so much how can any of them have any true meaning anymore? Still, people create signs, work themselves into a fever, march through the streets spouting catchy phrases in a sing-song manner then gather in locations around the city for their cause.

On this trip, I had a cause. It was nothing political. It was nothing I had to lobby members of Congress to do something about. It was nothing I would attempt to meet with the President or any of his Cabinet about either. I packed sensible shoes. I did not make a sign. I did not have a catchy jingle to repeat. I probably said a few prayers though.

My cause on this trip was to get to know Jennifer's family better. It was still another ten months before we would marry. We weren't even engaged at the time. Jennifer and I had known each other for several years though. In this time I had grown to know her family some. This trip was in large part for the benefit of Jennifer's young nephew and niece. It was an opportunity for them to see where our nation's government worked and a chance to visit museums housing fascinating and important artifacts about our country. We visited memorials that were moving to visit and even more moving when watching others moved by the experience as it related to a loved one. It was also an opportunity for her family to check me out, and, an opportunity for me to check them out.

I remember the drive, both ways, was a long one. It wasn't because there were long awkward silences between any of us. It was just a long trip, close to six hundred miles. I can recall hoping I did not say something that would make Jennifer's family wonder what rock I crawled out from. I remember a couple of uncomfortable questions from her nephew and niece, which I look back on now as a foreshadowing of similar questions from my own child. There were enough of us traveling together that we had to take two vehicles. I marveled early on how the two drivers used walkie-talkies to communicate when bathroom breaks were needed or when a stop was necessary for refueling. Jennifer and her sister told me how no matter where they go their father will meet someone he knows. Low and behold on the steps of the Capitol Building, I looked over to see their Dad talking to someone who was also visiting Washington from Tennessee, but who lived about 45 minutes away from where we all lived.

As I write this post, it has been eighteen years since that trip to Washington. I guess if there was any test I had to pass on that trip that I passed it. Jennifer and I were married the following March. Since then, she and I have made many road trips of our own, including some with the same folks we traveled with on the trip to Washington. Things have changed. The nephew and niece are both grown now. We added Hannah to the mix a decade ago. When we travel in different vehicles now, we use text messages to communicate instead of walkie-talkies. Other things stay the same. Her dad never fails to meet someone he can't make some connection with on some level.

Through the years I heard some people say how when you marry you also marry your spouse's family. I think that is true. In my case, just how when I married Jennifer I married beyond any expectations, I did the same with her family. They have welcomed me into their circle as one of their own. My own family lives miles away and I only see them a few times each year, so Jennifer's family often fills some of that void. They don't replace my own flesh and blood but they do fill that void enough so that I never feel on the outside when we are together. While I have come to truly understand and appreciate this over time I recognize this truly began on a long road trip to Washington, DC. It was one cause that was truly worth it.

Playlist for Road Trip: Washington, DC:

Darryl Worley "Have You Forgotten?"
Fleetwood Mac "Silver Springs"
The Highwaymen "Highwayman"
Van Morrison "Bright Side of the Road"
Neil Diamond "America"
Lenny Kravitz "Are You Gonna Go My Way"
Jimmy Buffett "Cheeseburger in Paradise"
Elvis Presley "Treat Me Nice"
REM "Don't Go Back To Rockville" (live)
Natalie Merchant "Kind and Generous"
Roy Orbison "Dream Baby"
Randy Newman "She Chose Me"

Some Shadows Linger

He came from a poor farming family in the rocky north Georgia mountains. His family, my people, never had much except one another but that was enough to survive and thrive. From those beginnings, hard work and determination-enemies of so-called privilege, my Dad had a family of his own. While the world may look down at whatever he accomplishes in his time I understand the world spends much of its time judging intentions and not actions or results.

As a family we never lacked for anything we needed. We were not wealthy but we were rich in love. Dad was the one who provided so much of what we needed and wanted. He worked hard for years, rarely missing a day of work in a job most today would consider beneath their dignity.

As his son, I look back to see times when I wish I had paid better attention to what he said. Sometimes, I just wish I had paid attention. I wish I had made better use of the time we had together when we were both younger. I wish I had said some things. I wish I had not said other things. I wish I had understood how my tone of voice and facial expressions carry more weight sometimes than the words I say. Sometimes I wish he understood how his tone of voice and facial expressions carry their own weight, good and bad.

As a father now, I hope I can be as patient and understanding as I remember he was with me. I am sure he would say he never had to worry too much about me but I know he did worry some. That is just part of his love and concern, even if it was unspoken. I know there were times he let go knowing it was best to let go even when letting go was not his instinct at the time. I hope I have that courage and faith to do as he did when I am faced with the same.

A few short sentences will never detail what my Dad means to me. I do know as I have grown older I realize what a strong, quiet force for good he has been in my life from day one.

Some shadows fall long lingering into the fading light. My Dad casts such a shadow. I am content to remain in it as long as I can.

Art For The Heart

It was a special day. The entirety of the third grade at Hannah’s school had an art show. Each student named a local landmark to paint for the show. In the weeks prior to the show, the students tapped their creative sides to put paint to canvas providing their interpretation of a famous local location. They also spent time researching their chosen landmark to write a blurb that appeared alongside their painting. On the big day, we dressed up, entered the school library to see each student in Hannah’s class standing by their painting while also willing to sign autographs.

About a year earlier, Hannah’s grandparents and uncle took her to the Lookout Mountain Incline Railway. Lookout Mountain rests on the southern side of the city of Chattanooga. At the top of the mountain is a breathtaking view of the city. There, a rail car can lower you to the foot of the mountain into the St. Elmo neighborhood. Then, the rail car makes the climb to the top of the mountain. The trip is about one mile long, so the ride, both ways, is rather steep. Something about thinking about this excursion had Hannah hesitant to ride the incline initially. Once there though she embraced the opportunity. Months later, that venture had made such an impression on her that she decided to capture it on a painter’s canvas.

Her painting was bright and colorful and worthy of all the other wonderful words a parent could imagine. All the paintings were good. I was amazed at the detail some had. Others had a great mixture of colors. Each though was unique and special like the artist in each child.

After the art show exhibit, Hannah’s school day was over. Jennifer and I determined we would spend the time right after the event in some special way. We felt the way to celebrate was for the three of us to have brunch. Fortunately, the two adults outvoted the nine-year-old or we would have munched on something from McDonald’s. Instead, we went to downtown Chattanooga to a restaurant specializing mostly in breakfast items.

Then over omelets, bacon, biscuits, fruit, French toast and various types of coffee and water, we talked about the art show. We talked about Hannah’s classmates. We noted how much they have all changed in the past year, a quarantine casualty of not being able to get to know your child’s friends and their parents while waiting in car line or aftercare. After eating all we could hold, we shelled out enough money for a decent dinner all the while knowing the next meal would likely be much later in the afternoon. We walked out the door to locate our car and go home. Jennifer and Hannah had the rest of the day off while I worked from home.

There are a lot of things I recall about that day. Some of them I have already mentioned here. The biggest takeaway is how we were able to spend time together as a family while not being overwhelmed with work or school or worry over family and friends. Obviously, Hannah’s painting is one of those things to remember about the day. It will be a cherished memento from third grade for years to come. It will always be something memorable about this day. I am sure after the school year ends, it will hang on a wall.

For me though the other picture in this blog post is the one I will try to remember for the rest of my days.

As we left the restaurant, Jennifer and Hannah turned down the sidewalk toward the parking lot where our car was located. As is often the case, I was a few steps behind the two of them. Around us was the skyline of the city Jennifer grew up in, the city Hannah is growing up in, the city I have grown to love, and the city we will all grow old in. Hand in hand they walked into the landscape of concrete and steel with the backdrop of a clear blue sky with Lookout Mountain off in the distance. It just seemed like a moment that should be captured for remembering at some later time.

Now, removed from that moment, I understand I may not recall all the details of this special day. The names of Hannah’s classmates may fade from me with time. I probably won’t recall what I wore that day. Remembering the specific brunch items we shared may be a chore years from now, Hopefully though, I will recall this place we call home and many of the moments we shared together here. I especially hope my mind will always carry the image of Jennifer and Hannah, hand in hand, in this place at this time. I hope it will be painted onto the canvas of my memory for now and all time.