86. Arlington Cemetery

No trip to DC is complete without a pilgrimage to Arlington National Cemetery. This is Sacred Ground in so many ways that weaves through our nation’s history. It lies on the other side of the Potomac River in Virginia. Originally it was a slave plantation owned by the step-grandson of George Washington. His daughter Mary Anna married the legendary General Robert E. Lee and it became his estate. From their house on a hill they could see the obelisk monument in the National Mall named after her great grandfather.

And Robert E. Lee would become one of America’s greatest generals. So much so that Abraham Lincoln asked him to be the commander of the Union Army at the outbreak of the Civil War. But because he lived across the river in Virginia, his first loyalty was to his state. He was a Virginian. He respectfully declined Lincoln’s offer and became the General of the Confederate Army. This is a strong reminder that we as a country are founded on the rights and experience of individual sovereign states who give up some degree of power to the federal government. The Tenth Amendment guarantees this.

With the advent of industrial weaponry the Civil War resulted in mass carnage. Respect for the dead was ironically maybe stronger than for the living. Where to bury them became a problem. The Union confiscated the Arlington Estate and buried their dead in Robert E. Lee’s backyard . . . so he could never return.

My pilgrimage leads me up the hill towards Lee's Arlington House. But I stop at the foot, for below the rise lies President John F. Kennedy’s grave with its well known “eternal flame.” The area is a rectangle of roughly hewn stones lined with moss.

The flame itself is nested in a larger stone circle cleaved in two. Does the flame bond a house divided? Or heal a fractured pain? With thousands passing by daily, there’s a quiet reverence in the presence of the votive light.

When planning her husband’s burial arrangements Jacqueline Kennedy was inspired by the eternal flame at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. There it burns at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Opposite the Kennedys’ grave site  is an oval area ringed by curved granite carved with quotes from John F. Kennedy’s Inaugural address. One of them reads . . .

“The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it . . . and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.”

Next to John F. Kennedy lies his wife, Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. They are flanked by two children who never saw daylight. Patrick Bouvier survived for two days in August 1963 and the far right marker only says “Daughter  1956” who was stillborn. 

Although their family gravesite is a major focus, not too far away lie other members of the Kennedy family. Around the corner is a much simpler white cross with a marker for Robert F. Kennedy. The cross is adorned with an  evergreen winter wreath. And Robert F. Kennedy’s wife Ethel, who died last year, is now included.

Further down the knoll is another almost lost marker for an Edward Moore Kennedy. I was puzzled. Who is this? Until I remembered Edward’s nickname of Teddy. Still further was yet another. This time a vertical memorial stone for Joseph P. Kennedy, Joe Junior, the eldest son lost in WWII and whom his father originally was grooming for president. Very few people noticed these last markers. They were small, unadvertised, with no signage along the path. But they were all part of the Kennedy legacy in our nation.

I came during this inaugural week to honor the threads of America’s tapestry. At Arlington I had no need to cover all the sites of the amphitheater and our own Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I have been there. Today I am not a tourist. Just a family member paying respects. Afternoon light is fading and it’s colder. And I have a date with the Washington Capitals for my first NHL hockey game. The puck drops at 7:30.