Thursday, January 7, 2021

In Fall 1982, I spent the semester as an intern in the United States Senate in Washington, DC. I would go on to become the president of my university’s chapter of the College Democrats, but I put my political leanings aside and worked in the office of a Republican, Senator Dick Lugar, for three reasons: 1. He represented my home state of Indiana; 2. His office had a well-respected internship program; and 3. He was then the Chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, and I was studying international politics. The Senator was a wise man and a moderate. Yes, I rolled my eyes occasionally when I heard some partisan rhetoric, but I never felt like the enemy, or felt unwelcome, or felt demeaned and disrespected. Oh, I suspect the staff knew I was a Democrat, but I was there to help my state and its constituents, and to learn—I indeed learned so much!–and the Senator’s staff was happy to teach me, and happy for the free labor, too. The relationship was cordial.

On my lunch hour, I would take the Capitol subway from the basement of the Dirksen Senate Office Building to the US Capitol. Back then, the general public had freer access to most parts of the building, so I would roam the side hallways, admire the statues and paintings, gaze out the windows onto The National Mall, and sometimes pop up into the Senate Gallery to see what was being debated. I loved to stand in the middle of the Rotunda room and look up at all the detailed artwork. I felt the building–and all the history within–deserved reverence. Reverence. The Capitol is a temple to democracy, as far as I am concerned. Over the years, over my many subsequent visits, as I grow older and wiser, I feel even more reverence toward the Capitol and all it symbolizes.

When I think that the 9-11 attack had likely targeted the Capitol, I get a cold chill down my spine.

And yesterday, January 6, 2021, I got a series of cold chills down my spine. I felt the same outrage I felt after 9-11. But this time, the temple had been desecrated by thugs, by domestic terrorists. Our current president had incited a riot. I was not surprised that violence erupted (yes, I live in Charlottesville, and I know what happened here). But I was surprised that the Capitol was so easily breached. And then I was angry at the insurrectionists. Very angry.

I was relieved that Congress reconvened so quickly, and that Joe Biden was finally certified as the winner of the Electoral College vote. I was relieved to hear that the vandalized areas of the Capitol were being rapidly repaired.

The physical scars may be removed, but the images that the entire world saw? Those cannot be removed–and should never be allowed to be removed–from our collective consciousness and from our country’s history. We must never neglect to protect our democracy from threats, both foreign and domestic.

Today I am still angry, and heartbroken, and anxious for our nation.

I did gulp down quite a bit of wine in front of the TV last night, and tonight I am calmer, and I made a cocktail to savor and not gulp.

This cocktail is often called a “Madras,” so I chose it for the play on words it provided, i.e “Mad Rush.”

In a shaker with ice, combine 1 1/2 ounces vodka, 3 ounces cranberry juice, and 1 ounce orange juice. Shake well and strain into a glass. Twist an orange peel over the drink, and then reserve the peel for a garnish.