D.C. People

Overall we found the D.C. people very friendly.  I will tell you about a few personal encounters but first there are the hurried masses seeking to be fulfilled much as we find in Omaha.  From 8:00 to 9:00 the subways spew forth bodies all rushing to their current perch in life.  At least half have their face downward focused on a small black thing about the size of an opened wallet.  Apparently they are all counting their money – or something!  Most of the rest had a “purse” over their shoulder and were expressionless and on a mission – often running up the escalator.  I tried to make eye contact with some or any and found it almost impossible.  So focused they were on isolation or escape they couldn’t look up or around.

I took note of a girl on the subway that not once looked away from her device through a couple of stops and then rose to exit – not missing a single important thing the box was doing for her.

Early in the subway experience we had a little trouble at a ticket machine when the station attendant came over to help.  She was great!  Soon another lady came and offered two subway passes with time on them as she had a number and they were not needed.  We offered to pay her but she was insistent we just take them, so we did.

On Saturday we ate Chinese at a famous restaurant on Pennsylvania Ave. just a little east of the Capitol.  The entrance was full of pictures of famous politicians who had eaten there (I anticipated they would want to take my picture to add to the gallery, but they missed the opportunity).  After a rich, tasty, filling, and spicy hot meal; a black woman seated by herself nearby asked me as I rose to leave if I was a pastor.  I have no idea why she thought such but I admitted so and had good chat with her.

Late Saturday night on our way back to our hotel (a room for $275 a night) we surfaced from the abyss of the subway not sure where we were.  An old fellow – about 69 – asked us if we were lost.  Yep!  We were and told him so.  We told about the castle we had rented for the night (the hotel) and he directed us.  After parting a few paces, he yelled back encouraging words.  What a great graduate of the class of ’68 (or not)!

On Monday we emerged from the catacombs (the subway) into the courtyard of the Ronald Reagan Building apparently with a dazed look on our faces when a rough looking black man approached.  He asked if we were lost.  Yes, again.  He proceeded to give us directions then thanked us for not fearing him.  I reached out a hand and shook with him.  After a couple more minutes of dialogue I gave him some money and a hug.

Our cabbie on Wednesday was from Pakistan and friendly.  We had fun with him.  He had been in the states about four years coming over to join his dad who drove a cab in DC.  His driving was aggressive and we got tickled as did he.  Leaving DC in a rental we got lost (again!) and wished we had hired him to drive us away.

Then there were those Fager people (Jim and Jean were SSB people for a number of years) – delightful.  Also delightful was their pastor and especially Aunt Mary.  She is 97, lives alone, drives herself, and is sharp, witty, and engaging.  Boy was she a hoot!