“Quiet!” The security guard's booming voice echoed over the Virginia hillside. " Read the sign."
Was he talking to us? My friend and I exchanged incredulous glances as we surveyed the crowded alcove. The guard’s attention was still fixed on us from afar. Neither of us had said a word. We had merely giggled. Yet, here we were, being singled out as troublemakers . . . in the middle of Arlington National Cemetery.
In my many trips to Washington, D.C., I had never visited Arlington Cemetery, the burial space reserved for veterans, Presidents, and American heroes. I had been determined to make the time to finally visit it on this trip. On a sunny but chilly Sunday afternoon, my friend and I made our way to the Cemetery. Entering the burial ground, we wandered along a tree-covered pathway leading up an increasingly steep hill. At one point, we took a detour off of the path, to an open-air alcove that was the final resting place of President John Kennedy and his wife, Jacqueline. The alcove is slightly elevated above the path, accessible by a few steps on either side. At the base of the steps was a small sign identifying the graves and requesting silence. Apparently, though, this request had gone unseen by the sizable crowd gathered in the alcove as a loud whisper was audible.
My friend and I were nearing the steps when we saw a truly unexpected sight. In front of us were two people who had clearly come to the Cemetery directly from the airport. This was obvious as they each were towing fairly large wheeled suitcases behind them. The sight of someone wheeling luggage around a cemetery is not exactly to be expected and my friend and I simultaneously started to giggle. It was not a loud giggle, just a low, almost whisper-like, laugh. Though we tried, we could not stifle the reaction. Suddenly, we heard the guard’s booming reprimand breaking the near silence. Startled, my friend and I looked up and surveyed the crowd. My friend and I noticed that the eyes of one of the Cemetery’s guards were fixed solidly on us. Yes, we realized, he was talking to us.
Was he talking to us? My friend and I exchanged incredulous glances as we surveyed the crowded alcove. The guard’s attention was still fixed on us from afar. Neither of us had said a word. We had merely giggled. Yet, here we were, being singled out as troublemakers . . . in the middle of Arlington National Cemetery.
In my many trips to Washington, D.C., I had never visited Arlington Cemetery, the burial space reserved for veterans, Presidents, and American heroes. I had been determined to make the time to finally visit it on this trip. On a sunny but chilly Sunday afternoon, my friend and I made our way to the Cemetery. Entering the burial ground, we wandered along a tree-covered pathway leading up an increasingly steep hill. At one point, we took a detour off of the path, to an open-air alcove that was the final resting place of President John Kennedy and his wife, Jacqueline. The alcove is slightly elevated above the path, accessible by a few steps on either side. At the base of the steps was a small sign identifying the graves and requesting silence. Apparently, though, this request had gone unseen by the sizable crowd gathered in the alcove as a loud whisper was audible.
My friend and I were nearing the steps when we saw a truly unexpected sight. In front of us were two people who had clearly come to the Cemetery directly from the airport. This was obvious as they each were towing fairly large wheeled suitcases behind them. The sight of someone wheeling luggage around a cemetery is not exactly to be expected and my friend and I simultaneously started to giggle. It was not a loud giggle, just a low, almost whisper-like, laugh. Though we tried, we could not stifle the reaction. Suddenly, we heard the guard’s booming reprimand breaking the near silence. Startled, my friend and I looked up and surveyed the crowd. My friend and I noticed that the eyes of one of the Cemetery’s guards were fixed solidly on us. Yes, we realized, he was talking to us.
Comments
Post a Comment