Sean C. Morgan
It’s been busy since we left Washington, D.C., as we’ve been getting holiday-season newspapers out and then getting ready for vacation over Christmas break.
Simply put, I haven’t had time to sit down and wrap up my little trip log by recounting our last day, the big day itself, the day of the Capitol Christmas tree lighting ceremony. So I’m doing it now.
It’s fitting I’m on the road – and on Christmas vacation at the in-laws on Vashon Island – as I write this since the rest of this series was written on the road.
Anyway, here goes. For those who have followed this, you know how our Thursday, Dec. 6, started: sirens in the distance, just like every day. We were used to it by then. We had a quick breakfast and hit the ol’ Uber to the Hart Senate Office Building where City Councilors Susan Coleman, Dave Trask and Mayor Greg Mahler and City Manager Ray Towry had a meeting set up with Sen. Jeff Merkley. Being the nosy sort I am, I tagged along, and we were joined by Coleman’s husband, Matt Coleman, and my wife, Tiffany Morgan.
Turns out Merkley was busy voting against the confirmation of Bernard McNamee to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. The Senate voted 50-49 along party lines to confirm McNamee. Merkley was one of the “nayes.”
Rather than waiting in the office building, he and his staff invited us to wait in his secret base below the Capitol. All of the senators apparently have these “hideaways,” as Merkley’s staff called it. That meant riding on the Senate subway again, as I had the previous day with Sen. Ron Wyden.
This time, we weren’t in quite the same hurry nor were we traveling with a senator. We had to go through a little security check, in which they wiped down our phones, checking for bomb residue, before giving us a pass to be in areas where we aren’t normally supposed to be.
We passed through the same area outside the subway station, where the national media lurk in search of quotes from senators, to a comfortable underground lair. The room contained refreshments as well as a video feed of the Senate floor. It functions as a place where a senator can conduct business or relax a few minutes, but have quick access to the floor for votes.
We chatted with the staff a bit about life in the Capitol and their jobs before Merkley appeared in the room. He posed with the group for a quick photo and then quickly got down to the real-life stuff of forest management and infrastructure with the city manager. He offered some information and Oregon connections Sweet Home might access to address our local issues and bade us farewell.
A staff member guided us to the secret underground passage to Rep. Peter DeFazio’s office building, where the councilors were able to set another appointment. The busy underground passage was decorated with art from students from across the country – including Oregon.
We soon found ourselves on the lowest floor of the Rayburn House Office Building looking for a cafe to grab lunch. We passed by the underground Congressional Federal Credit Union, with two women standing on either side of a table offering information, applications and free stuff – Hey, it is Washington, D.C. Free stuff is the point. Right?
They offered me a nice Congressional Federal Credit Union hat, the last one they had at the table. I told them I might sign up if I lived in D.C. and was eligible, but alas, I was not connected to Congress in any way other than voting. One of them said I could have the hat anyway.
We quickly found a cafe and had the second best meal of the trip. Quiznos was still better, but this place had a pretty cool kind-of buffet thing going where we paid for food by the ounce. I had a tasty Swedish meatball kind of thing – but with mushrooms. That was weird.
We met with DeFazio and his staff and talked about more important things again before posing for photos with DeFazio on his balcony, Capitol rotunda in the background.
None of it was quite as thrilling as Wyden’s whisking us through the Senate subway the day before. Wyden 1, DeFazio 0. Merkley gets half a point for the secret base. DeFazio definitely has the best office, though.
Tiffany and I had a little free time after that. We made the walk across the west side of the Capitol, where we could see official people officially preparing the area for the official tree lighting ceremony later, then to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.
There we saw the flag that inspired Francis Scott Key, who was detained on a British ship during the Battle of Baltimore during the War of 1812, nearby in Maryland, to write the words to the “Star-Spangled Banner.” The flag was raised over Ft. McHenry on Sept. 14, 1814 to signal the American victory over the British. When Key saw “by the dawn’s early light” that flag soaring above Ft. McHenry, he knew the Americans had not surrendered.
The U.S. Government paid Mary Pickersgill of Baltimore $409.90 to create the flag, which measured 30 feet by 42 feet. It had 15 stripes and 15 stars. Lt. Col. George Armistead, the commanding officer at Ft. McHenry acquired the flag, and his family preserved it until donating it to the Smithsonian Institution.
The family snipped away bits of the flag to give to veterans, government officials and honored citizens over the years. About 200 square feet of the flag, including a star, had been snipped away before the Smithsonian took possession. The Smithsonian has 13 of those fragments in its collection.
This was among the most interesting sights for me on this trip. As a child, living near Ft. Meade, where my dad was stationed at the National Security Agency, I attended multiple field trips to Ft. McHenry where this flag flew. I had seen it on a trip to Washington, D.C. Seeing it again as an adult was among my goals for this trip.
It looked a lot different than I remembered. Today, it is displayed in extremely low light, and it stretches away at an angle in its display case. I wondered if I’d remembered incorrectly how it looked, hanging vertically, but then I saw a nearby display photo of it hanging exactly as I remembered it. Turns out, the Smithsonian launched a preservation project in 1998, and this was a new display.
We didn’t have a lot of time before the lighting ceremony, so we explored a couple of areas of the museum quickly. Among the exhibits, we saw an interactive digital tour of American video games, Dorothy’s restored ruby slippers from “The Wizard of Oz,” dresses worn by our nation’s first ladies, Bill Clinton’s saxophone and Abraham Lincoln’s hat.
Then it was off to the lighting ceremony. We were sent into a roped area for spectators where our view – and line of sight for my camera – was threatened by a group of other Oregon visitors. Among them was a girl in a wheelchair, which explained why they were positioned there. Without a word, without a discussion, without any knowledge of the sinking feeling I had, her companions, including the man in front of me, kneeled for the ceremony, opening up line of sight for my camera.
I thanked him after the ceremony. I’m not sure whether he understood why I thanked him, but that was really cool. Turned out that the group was from Fossil, Oregon. If you happen across this, folks from Fossil, I say again, thank you very much.
After the ceremony, Councilor Trask was pretty excited about getting a photo with House Speaker Paul Ryan, who had the final speech of the night and counted down the lighting with fourth-grader Bridgette Harrington of Hillsboro.
Since our return to Sweet Home, Trask has been claiming “fake news” and claims a couple of photos have been Photoshopped. Never mind that I hadn’t yet told this story (except to a couple of the same folks Trask was talking to).
But here it is, the unvarnished truth of the matter: Secret Service almost made Trask, our esteemed councilor, eat grass in front of the Capitol.
Until Dec. 31, Ryan is second in line to the throne. That apparently means he gets Secret Service agents. Four of them were standing around him after the ceremony as members of the public spilled onto the lawn around the tree.
Somehow, as Trask and Mayor Mahler were attempting to get a photo with Ryan, Trask ended up behind Ryan and two of Ryan’s Secret Service agents. One of them told him to go around, and Trask did. Somehow, he ended up bumping or touching the agent’s service weapon.
The agent was highly restrained, responding with a low, quiet and gruff voice, “Don’t touch that!” The guy’s commanding presence was a lot different from what we see with police officers issuing commands. Police officers repeat their commands loudly in low, commanding voices. This Secret Service guy remained silent, looking at Trask with that kind of stare my Dad reserved for me when I wrecked a car or when I back-talked Mom when I was a kid.
So the truth of the matter is, Trask did not get tackled and forced to eat some lawn. He was not victimized by a federal agent. He was not in any way harmed by the federal agent. He was not arrested. Nothing bad happened at all. Trask just apologized and thanked the agent for his service to our nation.
I’m not sure what “true news” story is Trask has been telling around town, but don’t believe it if it doesn’t match this story. I was there, standing two feet away. I saw it all unfold, and it was funny for everyone else but Trask in that moment. (You know that agent probably had some kind of laugh over a beer with his buddies later.)
And all of us who know Trask also know that when things happen to Trask, it’s funny. This would’ve been a lot less funny if it were the mayor.
Anyway, Trask and Mahler soon got their chance to meet Ryan, and I snapped a photo for them, and we moved on to the Congressional reception hosted by Sen. Ron Wyden in the National Botanic Garden, which was beautifully decorated for Christmas.
If you’re into model trains for Christmas, the garden had them, a whole room; and it was awesome. McMinnville band We Three played the reception while officials and congressmen socialized, drinking Oregon beers and wines.
We listened to important people give the best speeches of their lives as the evening continued without worrying about all the important things in the world that dominate the news. Everyone was just having a good time celebrating Christmas.
Someone asked Mahler if he wanted to give an important speech. He declined. He explained later that public speeches really aren’t his thing. I understand and I can relate, but Trask is not so understanding.
He might even be right. The mayor gets paid a lot to be mayor. We the people of Sweet Home expect results. We expect important festive speeches. After all he’s the mayor.
“He gets 85 bucks a month for this,” Trask said, and turning to his fellow firefighter, continued: “And you cower!”
A good time was had by all, and our trip was winding down. I returned to our townhouse to write up a story about the lighting ceremony while the councilors and city manager went to eat at some exclusive place for important people. Apparently, it’s a club where you’ve got to be invited to join. I think it was one of Councilor Coleman’s friends who invited us, which I think might make her kind of an important person. Trask and Mahler met some more important politicians there.
At our temporary home, we fell asleep to the distant sound of sirens. We woke very early to the distant sound of sirens. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is – sirens are a permanent part of the life there, and it seems they’re all attached to ambulances or fire engines.
We got an early start to Ronald Reagan International Airport. We had a great view of the Capitol Mall as we took off. We weren’t in the air long before we saw snow covering our nation as far as the eye could see.
There wasn’t much on the ground at St. Louis., Mo., where we had a quick layover. The rest of the way, snow covered the north half our country – except the Northwest, which was covered in the familiar overcast of home.
As we landed in Portland, we had another amazing view, with Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams and Mt. Rainier all visible to the north.
My dad picked us up at PDX. It was about 4:30 p.m. our time – on a Friday, and everyone knows what that means at the intersection of Interstates 205 and 5.
Dad informed me this was the last time he’d pick me up at the airport in daytime Portland and he gave me that stare.