^{PART ONE  PART TWO  PART THREE  PART FOUR  PART FIVE  PART SIX}

^{Images link to Flickr where one may select "view all sizes" from the "actions" menu. These are tailored to the OS column width for less bandwidth consumption.}

The story so far: we arrived at BWI on Wed. afternoon, were met by family for the trip into DC and, because of light showers, it took twice as long. I'm not in the least bit ashamed to say that everyone on the north half of the arrival ramp heard me scream into a flip phone: "I can tell that you're screaming at me, but I can't understand a word you're saying."

Sorry.

Part one of this series was the next morning and part two the afternoon. Friday, we had arranged a White House tour through our Congressperson, Stevan Pearce (R-NM). Because the rules are quite strict about what you may and may not bring along, I was denied the opportunity to shoot.

Because we hit the Renwick on the way back to the hotel for camera bag, etc., I don't have any shots from there either. The permanent collection upstairs never disappoints, but the special exhibition was from the White House permanent collection. As we found out at the National Gallery, anything from that may not be photographed anyway. Interesting to read various opinions on whether the opulence and almost palace-like nature of the building is fitting for "the people's house."

And I can only mind meld you the Chihuly, from the drum series.

Family picked us up for an afternoon along the Tidal Basin. You may have known that the postponed MLK dedication was held Sunday, but even on the Friday, squad cars were everywhere.

The Jefferson parking area was wide open so we started there.

The great man's bronze statue is surrounded by some of the language we sometimes all too easily take for granted.

We went back to where the roads were being blocked and found the mercy of one serious looking, flak jacketed patrolman who allowed us one last diagonal parking space, accessible to both the FDR and MLK memorials. As at the Jefferson, the men are recognized and valued for their words as much as with any statuary.

For example...

^{IN THESE DAYS OF DIFFICULTY, WE AMERICANS EVERYWHERE MUST AND SHALL CHOOSE THE PATH OF SOCIAL JUSTICE... THE PATH OF FAITH, THE PATH OF HOPE, AND THE PATH OF LOVE TOWARD OUR FELLOW MAN.}

^{THEY WHO SEEK TO ESTABLISH SYSTEMS OF GOVERNMENT BASED ON THE REGIMENTATION OF ALL HUMAN BEINGS BY A HANDFUL OF INDIVIDUAL RULERS... CALL THIS A NEW ORDER. IT IS NOT NEW AND IT IS NOT ORDER.}

^{THE TEST OF OUR PROGRESS IS NOT WHETHER WE ADD MORE TO THE ABUNDANCE OF THOSE WHO HAVE MUCH; IT IS WHETHER WE PROVIDE ENOUGH FOR THOSE WHO HAVE TOO LITTLE.}

The entrance to the MLK is meant to be through a gap in the same kind of rock from which his statue was carved. Because of the preparations for Sunday, that route was awash in cable runs and folding chairs. Maybe next time.

^{OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN OF DESPAIR A STONE OF HOPE}

A curving wall faces the water and the plaza from behind the statue with many, many of his words. It was a busy Friday and very noisy. But the words cut through it all.

 WE SHALL OVERCOME BECAUSE THE ARC OF THE MORAL UNIVERSE IS LONG, BUT IT BENDS TOWARD JUSTICE.

Before dinner, we made one last stop with the car at the Congressional Cemetery. Here is where J. Edgar and Clyde reside, not quite on top of one another. It is a place I will visit if I survive longer than other family. Sobering, I know.

But along the way to that site that thankfully had no further carving after both hyphens, there was this.