Justin Goes to Washington: "Arlington Cemetery"

As I emerged from the Washington DC Metrorail into the bright sun, of an already warm day at 8am, the green hillside and grand gates of Arlington National Cemetery shown brightly in the short distance ahead.  As I made my way to my first destination within the cemetery, the Kennedy grave sites, I was struck by the literally endless diagonal rows of identical white marble headstones and the picture perfect view of the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument and Capitol Hill beyond it that they have. I thought to myself at that point that while reserving such a place for our fallen heros is indeed a high honor it is an equally sad statement that we have fallen heroes in such numbers that it is necessary to do so. 

At the grave sites of brothers Jack, Bobby, and Teddy there were predictable numbers of tourists and I removed my hat at each and had a quiet moment.  A moment made more difficult by what seems to pass as respect to some people in 2009.  While most were at least courteous enough to remain relatively silent nearly all were busy furiously snapping pictures.  I understand the desire to capture the memory, etc.  However I do take exception with the woman who strode boldly up to Senator Ted Kennedy's grave with about an eight foot long telephoto lens on her camera, leaned over the recently erected rope barrier and proceeded to unleash her camera's "burst mode" on the marble headstone. For me that just crosses the line. In life it is true that all three brothers were public figures and for the record yes I took a few shots of each of the graves but from a distance. What these people were doing is equivalent to walking up to the person and shoving a camera into their face.  Were they not subject to enough of this when they were still on this earth?

I hadn't initially intended to visit the Tomb of the Unknowns, I don't know why exactly.  However I felt myself being pulled towards the amphitheater behind the tomb and then to the area in front of the tomb itself where a crowd had gathered that included a good number of Navy sailors in uniform, all standing out of respect, in front of the lone sentinel marching back and forth with intense discipline. Somewhere bells of a clock tower sounded and the crowd rose to its feet and I realized that I had actually managed to happen upon the changing of the guard ceremony.

I became transfixed by the ceremony, the tradition of it all, the ritual, the protocol.  Watching the commanding officer inspect the oncoming sentinel's uniform, rifle, all getting white glove treatment. The clicking of their shoes all the orders that were needed to perform the ritual.  The order's themselves "Post and orders, remain as directed," seemed to have a very solemn and ominous tone to them.  I was struck by the amazing view that sentinel must have when he turns to face and look out over the nation's capital. As the crowd began to disperse after the initial ceremony the sailors assembled remained standing and it was clear something else was to come.  To my amazement I was then witness to a wreath laying ceremony, complete with Taps on the bugle. Wow. If there is anyone who doesn't at least tear up hearing those notes in that setting I can only assume they aren't conscious for some reason.

The strict adherence to tradition and the indescribable amounts of respect and discipline it represents certainly made quite an impact on me having bared witness to it.  My mind is truly blown by the idea that these guys are there every minute of every day performing the same ceremony, marching the same 21 steps over and over again. Crowds, time of day, and weather conditions not withstanding.  Even more mind boggling to me is that this has been the case for every minute of every day since 1937. For the last 72 years there has never not been a sentinel at that post. In addition to which I cannot fathom the emotional discipline, discipline of every possible kind really, that allows them to day in and day out witness the true costs of war. I can't begin to imagine how that must wear on a person.  I was only there for a brief time and I managed to tear up and find the heat fairly unbearable. What these guys do is truly nothing short of Herculean to me.

As a final thought it's fascinating to me that in 2009 such a strong tradition of protocol and respect exists and that it has been a constant for 72 years continuously.  I can't imagine the list of anything that has endured in this country continuously for 72 years is an extensive one.  I believe there is a lesson for all of us in the level of respect and discipline maintained by those sentinels at the tomb. Perhaps it is comforting to know that somewhere in this country that tradition of respect exists whatever else is happening in the world, our national debate, politics, crisis, among all of that, in spite of all those things or perhaps because of them there marches a lone sentinel before a sacred tomb where, as the inscription states "HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD."