Today we went to many historical places and memorials. Our first stop was the Korean War memorial where there were nineteen soldiers on a little field in the shape of a triangle. Each soldier had a different face. Originally there was supposed to be 38 soldiers but the makers of it ran out of money so they put a reflective wall so it can look like there are 38 soldiers. Beside the memorial thee was a wall that said, "Freedom is not free."
Nearby there was the Lincoln Memorial where there was a large statue of Abe Lincoln sitting in a chair. Above his head were the words, "In this temple as in the hearts of the people for whom he saved the Union and the memory of Abraham Lincoln is enshrined forever." Right across we can see the Washington Monument where many people took pictures of it. Also outside there was a large sprinkler and many people ran through it to cool off.
Within the Vietnam Memorial there was a statue of three men facing the names of all the fallen people. There were many names upon two walls that met at a corner. There were lists that people could check for locations of family upon the monument or to see if any people with their last name died in Vietnam. No one with my last name died but six or so died who had my mother's maiden name. One of the girls in the group found a soldier whose name was Brian F. Wallace who was her grandfather's best friend and he saved his fellow troops by throwing himself on a grenade that was thrown into a foxhole.
- Aurora
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Today our group split up to visit the many different museums. Our group started off at the Museum of Natural History. We were the only group there. Throughout the museum we learned everything from the evolution of humans to the defense mechanism of bugs. A few of our girls even had the chance to hold hissing cockroaches and lubber grasshoppers. Moving on through the museum we learned about different skeletal features on animals. We went to the Archives next where we sat in line for the longest 45 minutes of our lives just to view the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. When we got back outside we found a beautiful fountain to soak our feet in since we were all very hot. After that we went to our hotel rooms, exhausted, to get ready for the dinner theater. We talked about all the fun that we've had and all the fun we plan to have on remainder of this trip.
-Mikayla
-Mikayla
Friday, June 22, 2012
Pentagon Memorial
Pentagon 9-11 Memorial
Everyone looks to the front, as Marybeth spoke about our last stop of the long and muggy day at the Pentagon Memorial. I felt excited, but at the same time weary. I don't like to cry, but it comes to easy for me! As we pulled into the 67 acre lot, everyone noticed just how big the Pentagon is. Five-sided with bomb resistant windows, the Pentagon is the largest office building in the U.S. We sauntered off the bus, welcoming the cooler weather. We walked toward the memorial thinking we were ready to handle the clout of sadness that would soon loom over us, but we weren't. At the memorial there is no picture taking. In the Memorial there are benches that look like waves. They either face towards the building for those who died working in the Pentagon, or away in the opposite direction, for the people in the plane. My friend and I knelt down to read the first name on the bench. Dana Falkenberg, born in 1998. Already, I could feel myself welling up. That little boy died at only three years old, with his little nine-year-old sister Zoe by his side, along with their parents. I think that bothered me the most was imagining (even if not correct) Dana in his mother's arms. She must have been so strong for her son and daughter. She knew they were going down and that her children's short lives were only seconds away from ending, but she didn’t shed a tear because she wanted them to die knowing their mother and father loved them. She didn’t want them to see her crying. It would only upset them. I know this probably isn’t exactly how they went out of this world, but I like to think highly of the innocent people who died on September 11, 2001. Realistically I know this is not true. Not all of those people where good and pure, but it doesn’t really matter if they died a good person or a bad person. What matters is that they died innocently. Moving on through the memorial, the dismal mood worsened until several of my peers, including myself, were either crying or on the verge of tears. Once we had left the memorial few words were spoken between my friends and I. We knew talking about what we had just gone through would make us feel worse. Stepping onto the bus was like stepping onto a place where I felt comfortable enough to cry. I soon noticed others felt the same way. People who had seemed undeterred let it all out. Everybody settled into their seats. Depictions of innocent passengers flitted through my mind. It made me feel so awful imagining the confused look on Dana’s face as he took his last look at his family. The bus launched forward and rolled smoothly out of the lot. A song by Kitty Donahue singing about 9/11 strolled out the speakers making my heart ache. I could feel dry tears staining my face as I listened not only to the music, but to the sobs of the others on the bus. Once the song ended, ou would have thought that the weeping would die out, but it stayed strong for another 15 minutes. My friend offered her comfort to another friend and I as I am sure others did for their friends. Tissues were passed around and slowly everyone stopped crying. There is no doubt in my mind that later – whether It be tonight in the hotel rooms or even a few months later – tears will come back to me as they will to others. My friend made a great a great point, “ If we are crying this much now think how bad I’ll be at the Holocaust museum.” She’s right. I will be horrible as the feeling that will enclose us as we touch into victim’s lives. But if today is any indicator to how my peers will act at the Holocaust Museum that isn’t one bone in my body that tells me that we won’t handle it with understanding, caring for one another, and of course, respect for those that have passed away.
-Sydney
Everyone looks to the front, as Marybeth spoke about our last stop of the long and muggy day at the Pentagon Memorial. I felt excited, but at the same time weary. I don't like to cry, but it comes to easy for me! As we pulled into the 67 acre lot, everyone noticed just how big the Pentagon is. Five-sided with bomb resistant windows, the Pentagon is the largest office building in the U.S. We sauntered off the bus, welcoming the cooler weather. We walked toward the memorial thinking we were ready to handle the clout of sadness that would soon loom over us, but we weren't. At the memorial there is no picture taking. In the Memorial there are benches that look like waves. They either face towards the building for those who died working in the Pentagon, or away in the opposite direction, for the people in the plane. My friend and I knelt down to read the first name on the bench. Dana Falkenberg, born in 1998. Already, I could feel myself welling up. That little boy died at only three years old, with his little nine-year-old sister Zoe by his side, along with their parents. I think that bothered me the most was imagining (even if not correct) Dana in his mother's arms. She must have been so strong for her son and daughter. She knew they were going down and that her children's short lives were only seconds away from ending, but she didn’t shed a tear because she wanted them to die knowing their mother and father loved them. She didn’t want them to see her crying. It would only upset them. I know this probably isn’t exactly how they went out of this world, but I like to think highly of the innocent people who died on September 11, 2001. Realistically I know this is not true. Not all of those people where good and pure, but it doesn’t really matter if they died a good person or a bad person. What matters is that they died innocently. Moving on through the memorial, the dismal mood worsened until several of my peers, including myself, were either crying or on the verge of tears. Once we had left the memorial few words were spoken between my friends and I. We knew talking about what we had just gone through would make us feel worse. Stepping onto the bus was like stepping onto a place where I felt comfortable enough to cry. I soon noticed others felt the same way. People who had seemed undeterred let it all out. Everybody settled into their seats. Depictions of innocent passengers flitted through my mind. It made me feel so awful imagining the confused look on Dana’s face as he took his last look at his family. The bus launched forward and rolled smoothly out of the lot. A song by Kitty Donahue singing about 9/11 strolled out the speakers making my heart ache. I could feel dry tears staining my face as I listened not only to the music, but to the sobs of the others on the bus. Once the song ended, ou would have thought that the weeping would die out, but it stayed strong for another 15 minutes. My friend offered her comfort to another friend and I as I am sure others did for their friends. Tissues were passed around and slowly everyone stopped crying. There is no doubt in my mind that later – whether It be tonight in the hotel rooms or even a few months later – tears will come back to me as they will to others. My friend made a great a great point, “ If we are crying this much now think how bad I’ll be at the Holocaust museum.” She’s right. I will be horrible as the feeling that will enclose us as we touch into victim’s lives. But if today is any indicator to how my peers will act at the Holocaust Museum that isn’t one bone in my body that tells me that we won’t handle it with understanding, caring for one another, and of course, respect for those that have passed away.
-Sydney
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