My First Trip to D.C.

Each family has a set of rules, regulations, and traditions that (one way or another) get passed from child to child. Some of these experiences one needs to do physically, others, one only needs to speculate in order to learn.

Here are some lessons that I know:

• If you want to know how it is that a stove makes things hot; ask someone. Don't stick your fingers on a red coil.
• Having your own bedroom can only be truly appreciated after you have endured the pain of sharing one.
• Getting an American-Girl Doll is not for lackadaisical people. To obtain that beautiful doll, one first must read the books.
• If you want to get your ears pierced when your 8, you cant. Why? Because your sister chose to pierce hers when she was 12. An older sibling's decisions do impact your life.
• A father will allow you to sit on his lap when you're 5 yrs old as he drives the family's 25+ ft. RV. However, he will not teach you how to drive (sans license) until you are at least 14.
• Acknowledging that it was Yoko’s fault is the only way to heal the wounds of the Beatles breakup.
• Dying your hair without parental consent should only be done after you are too old to spanked.
  

Traditions and life lessons are important to children.

I have come to realize that these traditions are much more significant to the youngest child.

Julie: “Mommy, why does Miss M get to do that when I can’t?” a phrase I muttered to my mom (all too often) while growing up.

Susie Q: “Well, dolly… that’s because Miss M is older.”

Julie: “That’s not fair. I wanna do it, too!”

Susie Q: “Yes, it is fair sweetheart. You’ll understand someday when you’re older."

Julie: "When am I gonna be older?"

Susie Q: "Soon, hunny. Just be patient."

Readers, Please Note: The youngest child, by definition, means there is never a day when you will become ‘older’ than your siblings. You will always be their little sister and they will forever and always remind you of that.

Anyways, in my family, one of the most anticipated traditions (which happened at a young age) was going with my dad on a business trip to Washington D.C. Well, we didn’t necessarily attend the business aspect of the trip. We tagged along for the sight-seeing and quality father/child time.

The tradition of the D.C. trip started when my dad took Miss M, my sister. At that time, it was a spur of the moment idea; my dad had to go out east for work and he thought his (oldest) 10 year old might want to see all the glory that is: Washington D.C. What he probably wasn’t thinking was how he would have to repeat this trip (with kids) two more times. Taking Miss M, meant that the next year he took my brother, Wyatt Earp, when he was 10 yrs old. Fair is fair.

Five years later, in the spring of 1996, it was my turn. I was finally the age my siblings had been when they took the glorious trip. I had reached the pivotal age. There was no more waiting. My dad and I were going to Washington D.C. My wait was over.

D.C. was everything I thought it would be. All three days of it. The first couple mornings my dad went to his business meetings, while I stayed in the hotel watching cable TV. A luxury I had not previously known. Each day after lunch, we’d hit the town.

The following days/afternoons were filled to the brim with sight-seeing, walking, talking, and asking questions. We saw (in no specific order): the Capital, The Air and Space Museum, The Washington/Lincoln/Jefferson Monuments, Ford’s Theater/ the house across the street where Lincoln died, Arlington National Cemetery, Mount Vernon, ect...

Of all the things we did in D.C., surprisingly, we did not go to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. I would not see the inside of USHMM until 1998. This, in hindsight was a good thing. I was still young, and needed more education on how to understand the Holocaust. Bringing a child, who is too young into USHMM, can do a potential amount of damage to the child’s psyche if he/she isn’t properly educated or prepared.

One day after sight-seeing and a great seafood dinner, my dad and I were walking around taking in the night-life of D.C. (night-life that is appropriate for a 10 year old). We stumbled upon a small Indie theater which happened to be showing Anne Frank Remembered.

It had come back. Not just my interest in the story of the girl who had baffled my mind. This time it was more complex. This film had childhood friends of Anne talking about her life in the concentration camps. Her life after her diary. The life that was lost. The life that died.

While watching this film I realized that the odds of surviving the Holocaust were not good, but plausible. There are survivors. Humans, who lived, breathed, who endured the unthinkable and were/are able to talk about it. Through film I could witness these survivors.

In my family, we're not really 'sport enthusiasts'. We don't watch football (unless Miss M and her husband Doc Holiday are visiting). On occasion we enjoy a Twin's game, but that's about it.

That's because my family, deep in the depths of our souls, we're movie people. The Academy Awards might as well be the Super Bowl. It's a night filled with snacks and pop galore. Three hours of cheering (or) booing at the TV. It's an event we look forward to all year.

Susie Q, my mom, who is an overly nice and very soft spoken lady, has been known to give a good holler or two at the TV during the Academy's. It is, after all, serious business.

That winter, my 'movie-lovin' family' was (of course) watching the Oscar's. If you're a movie lover, you know what year I'm talking about.

• Whoopi was the emcee.
• BraveHeart, Apollo 13, Pocahontas, and Toy Story were all big hits.
• Brad and Gwyneth were still a couple.
• And, who could forget Kirk Douglas being honored that year? Well, an average person might have forgotten that part. According to my dad, there is no greater gift that cable TV has to offer than Turner Classic Movie (TCM). This wasn't just Kirk Douglas; this was Spartacus! It was a great night.

Then suddenly, that night became one I would never forget.

Then there it was! My D.C. movie had returned. It was nominated for Best Documentary. And, it won! Before I knew it, Miep Gies was on stage. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. She received a standing ovation from the audience. Chills ran up and down my back.

After a brief moment of shock, I started yelling, " I saw that film! I saw that film! Mom!! It's Miep Gies. IT'S MIEP GIES!"

My family has always encouraged my interest in studying the Holocaust. But at that particular moment during the Oscar's, I can't say that they shared in the excitement.

Julie: "Dad!! We saw that film!!" I squealed with excitement.

The Dutchmen: "We sure did, kiddo." he said

Julie: "Mom! Miss M! I, like, totally saw that!! In the theater. In D.C.!"

Susie Q: "Wow, hunny. Isn't that a coincidence?" my mom said softly.

Coincidence and Fate. Two words that have played a huge part in my life. Was it a coincidence that I saw that film (a documentary that never would have been played in the theater in my small hometown)? Was it fate that I went on my trip to D.C. at the exact time that film was in theaters?

I think that my trip to D.C. (and of course, the Academy Awards) were pieces to my life puzzle.

I'll wait to share the next piece of my puzzle until next time.