92. Brothers From Another Mother

Another early morning adventure. Still 20 degrees. But today is different. It’s the "Day After” and I’m on my way to see my Congressman, Juan Vargas representing District 52, directly on the California border with Mexico. It’s where I cross the border every week for Costco, Home Depot and TraderJoe’s. Mail and banking. Maybe Kaiser. But today I’m crossing the Capitol lawn for the Sam Rayburn building where many of the House Reps have their offices. On the fourth floor I find what I’m looking for. The door is open. I’m greeted by two younger staff and someone in jeans and flannel shirt. The dress code gives it away. He must be the boss. 

We hadn’t met before, but Juan and I hit it off from the first handshake. I identified myself as a teacher from Sweetwater High in National City. The two staff had gone to rival high schools. Our conversation eventually led us back into his office. Juan and I had a lot in common. We had both grown up on a chicken ranch. He had graduated from Harvard. I'd been there twice. He’d been in the elegant subways of Moscow. I’d been in the less famous underground tubes of the Soviet Republic of Kazakhstan. We had both seen the movie “PT 109.” The staff had no clue. But there were differences. Because I had come to celebrate the Inauguration, he humorously reminded me that he had voted one way . . . and I another. We smiled. Laughed. It was all good. He was on his way to an early morning prayer breakfast before the House went into session. And I was about to go on a Capitol Building tour with his assistant.

There are several underground passageways to the Capitol. One even has a trolley. While this is obviously good for security's sake, it’s even better for the biting cold of a DC winter. I had been here once before over a decade ago so I knew what to expect. The very first “cool thing” in the tunnel is its art display from high school students around the country. Each Representative chooses one painting from their District. I remember this from teaching. It was a big deal to be displayed in our Nation’s Capitol. Juan’s District was represented by a very tender and sweet self portrait of a girl holding what seemed to be her own childlike sketching from earlier childhood. I liked it. It was unpretentious, but subtly sophisticated with its layered styles and meaning.

We left the tunnel to emerge into the Crypt. No one is buried here. It is not St. Peter’s. But close. It may have been intended for George Washington’s repose, but he would have none of that. One has to remember that our once newly founded "democratic experiment” needed to stand proud next to the other nations of Europe. We needed their respect, but not their traditions. We even grappled with the issue of how to address our President. His Excellency? No, we finally settled on Mr. President. That says it all. So George is not buried here. This is not Westminster.

In the middle of the Crypt floor, surrounded by mini arched pillars, is a star compass that is the center of Washington. All geographical directions flow from here. And more so, we are directly under the Rotunda, from which, one might say, all Congressional power flows out to the nation. Or that used to be, until Franklin D. Roosevelt remolded the Executive Branch to tilt the balance of power toward the Presidency which now has become the dominant authority it is today.

Nearby is another historical memory. The old chambers of the Supreme Court during the time of John Marshall were down here below the Rotunda, literally embedded in the very foundation of our government.

There are some oddities at its entrance. The top of the pillars are not Greek in style, definitely not a flowering Corinthian scroll, but actually just corn ears. One could say “corn-inthian” instead. Why? I have no idea. But maybe, just maybe, Jefferson’s idea of a republic of farmers, not bankers could be in play. But if that were so then it would be tobacco leaves. This is long before cotton was king. But we digress. Welcome to the Supreme Court . . . once upon a time.

Taking the stairs upward we come to the Rotunda, the space and structure of the Capitol dome itself. Again, our newly formed nation was struggling with how to gain the respect of other nations without the burdens of their centuries of tradition. But tradition is definitely here. The interior inspiration and dimensions echo the Pantheon of Rome, a temple for the gods. And the exterior shows deference to the famous domes of Europe such as St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. If you want a place at the table of international acceptance, there is a dress code. Hence the Rotunda. 

But it gets even more . . . interesting. If you crane your neck back and look upwards towards the dome you’ll see a circular mural called the “Apotheosis” or deification of . . . of whom . . . oh no, George Washington. He’s up there in the clouds, transcending mortal powers. He is the apotheosis of courage and leadership. Posthumously dedicated. George would have died again if he saw it. Remember, that when President Washington voluntarily stepped down after two terms, the other George, King of England, upon hearing this said Washington must be the greatest man on earth.

Coming back to the present, here is where the Inauguration took place on Monday. The blue carpeted dais is still there on which the oath of office was given. I couldn't resist to stand several feet away and replicate that historical event. From having watched it on TV with the rest of the nation, I think this is a much better venue than outside on the West Capitol steps. Here of course it was less public, and being in the open-air before thousands of witnesses in front of the Capitol is more transparent. That does seem more American in spirit, regardless of weather. 

Famous figures of American history and culture line the perimeter. There are statues in the Rotunda as well as the National Statuary Hall. Every State has two sculptures representing two of its most famous personalities. Here are a few examples.

From Founding Fathers to songwriter artists. From astronauts to generals. From politicians to activists and Native American explorer guides. They're all here. There's even Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, from Mississippi. These figures and more are on display representing the pageantry of the ongoing American Experiment. But the Capitol Building is not just an art gallery. It is the seat of the Legislative Branch of government, both the Senate and the House. So my next destination is to pull out my official visitor pass to the House of Representatives. Thank you Juan Vargas.

The House will be in session at noon, so I proceed to check-in by giving up my cell phone and all electronics to security. I take the elevator up to the House Gallery which overlooks the chamber below. To my surprise they start the session with only about ten people present. The full House won't be present till 2pm when they vote on the amended Laken Riley Act. Till then individual Reps give short speeches to an empty House, except for CSPAN and visitors in the Gallery above. The purpose is to go on record to have something to show their constituents at home. They speak accompanied with large poster boards and images to support their ideas. The topics range from the wildfires in Los Angeles to the need for more water conservation and dams to honoring the memory of a citizen cowboy.

But I haven't eaten all day and I can't wait for the real show to begin in two hours, I leave, pick up my valuables and proceed downstairs past the Capitol Cafeteria. But there are hundreds of tourists and staff there with the same idea. I know something better. I re-enter one of the tunnels leading east towards the best kept secret on the Hill. Yes, I am going to the Supreme Court Cafe for soup du jour and their famous Smash Burger, even if I have to go through security again. Totally worth it!

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