Lincoln Memorial Women
So I’m a klutz. But I do it big. A few weeks ago, I was preparing to leave Washington DC by going out with a good friend of mine who also loves photography and architecture to take some photos of the DC monuments.
The MLK Stance
We walked all around the Mall, hitting all the big monuments including the new MLK during the day. But we figured, it’d look more dramatic at night, so we walked all the way around the basin, to the Jefferson to loop back.
Jefferson Dusk
I tell my friend E this story as we walk about this weird dream I had the night before where my Dad kidnaps me and makes me throw my iPhone in water. [I dropped an iPhone accidentally in the toilet a few years ago and am now a bit irrational about it falling in water again.]
FDR Memorial Fireside Chat
In between, is the FDR memorial, which I’d never seen before. It’s relatively new and not as famous. But really cool, especially at night, because it’s a serious of organic fountains surrounded by these rock formations and statues of folks in breadlines and other dramatic poses.
On the walls are all these FDR quotes, etched into the rock like commandments. So we got really into trying to capture this mood, of strong words and strong belief in country and supporting the common man….we split up.
I got really into trying to capture just the words “I HATE WAR” on one of the walls. I’m all close up, crouching down, backing up, with my digital SLR. I get so into it, I’m not paying attention at all that I’m alone and where I am. I think I’ve got a good shot but I need it a little wider. I back up. I back up, ass first, down into a 3 ft deep part of the beautiful rock formation fountain.
I fall in, up to my neck in rushing water.
Luckily, I’m smart enough to keep one arm, holding my camera, out of the water. I guffaw and squeal. No one comes. I climb out of the fountain, soaked, and realize, my phone is in my bag over my shoulder. I dump all my shit out on the ground looking for my phone. My friend E finally shows up, says all he heard was me guffawing and says, “Wait, why are you wet?” I say “I fell into the fountain dude, but where the hell is my phone?” He says, “In your front pocket”. And there it was.
It actually was fine, but I had to go in the park bathroom, strip down to my undies, and wring out my jeans and tank top and try to dry them in the oldest hand dryer I’ve ever seen. I am never approached by any staff of the park.
We then have to walk like 2 miles back to the downtown to catch the train, me soaked and him laughing at the fact that I can’t touch anything to myself so I’m walkin like a zombie and shivering. We stop at MLK Memorial again, I manage to get a few incredible shots, even though every time I kneel or crouch, my jeans constrict and drip. I get to the train, say goodbye to E, and my phone starts working again. I am that soaked person on the train, smelling a bit of wet dog, on a perfectly dry night.
So I tweet to the world that I hate war, but I hate dark fountains more.
After my unintentional dip in FDR memorial fountain
