Surveying the Security
July 20, 2005
The police presence in Washington is bifurcated. On the one hand there are the Capitol Police. These officers always appear to be the biggest and best fit.. they must get hired after nation-wide competitive job searches. There is a certain self-importance in their gait. The name tells you that they are here to protect the portion of the city used daily by the federal government and visited by millions of tourists every year. The second group are the local officers of the District of Columbia.. driving cars that look a little older, and, well, looking a bit clunkier themselves, perhaps carrying a bit of a paunch. This latter group gets to deal with all the daily law enforcement issues that are bound to crop up in a place the size of Washington, and they must look a little enviously at the Capitol Police sitting in air-conditioned cars and waiting for unmarked trucks.
One is liable to run into police officers on almost any outing around the Capitol. Their cars will be sitting observing traffic, waiting to pounce on an unmarked and potentially dangerous truck.. but they may also be pedaling around on bicycles or even mounted on horses. When I walked out of the Capitol after my tour and began to descend the sun-drenched steps, I was faced with a young and pretty woman holding a large and heavy gun and standing stone-faced in her position.
On the morning before my trip inside the Capitol I noticed a lot of police motorcycles and even a helicopter.. and a little later as I was walking back to our apartment, suddenly everything was blocked off. Several well armed officers had taken positions on the sidewalks and motioned for walkers to halt.. and then the sounds of sirens grew audible. A long line of dark cars then swept by, in the center of which were two or three dark sedans with American and Indian flags flying from their shiny hoods. The line pulled into the usually empty lot behind the House of Representatives. The night before had been the official dinner at the White House, and now obviously something was up at the Capitol.
The Capitol Police have set in place portable lights.. helping them to monitor at night every vehicle that comes down certain streets. They also employ large orange portable signs. Currently the one at the end of our street informs all buses to stay right as they move down Independence Avenue.. a precaution in place since the bombings in London on July 7. Lots of portable fencing carry a metal plate that reads: Property of the Capitol Police.. as if someone might be tempted to steal their blockades. All this temporary material reminds one that our Capitol is right now very much a work in progress.. The security measures have a certain ad hoc feel to them.. as if no one knows if this level of security is permanent or just for the duration of an exceptional and troubled period.
Early in the evening I walked to the market with my friend Nadav. Emily needed an extra can of diced tomatoes for our dinner. On our way back we passed a middle aged man with slightly unruly dark hair and looking a little dejected. I thought the man seemed familiar, and tried to think of the people I had met with Emily at the Folger get-togethers, but his face did not match up with any of them. As soon as we passed, Nadav looked at me and, gesturing back with his thumb, said: “That was Dennis Kucinich.” Immediately I connected the face with what I saw of Kucinich from watching him on televised debates. He was the most liberal of those running for the Democratic nomination, and always a long shot.. although I was impressed by what I read about his personal simplicity and the irrepressible nature of his run for the presidency.
He ducked into a bar, but his dejected and tired face could be the image of a visitor from another world, browsing up and down the central streets of our capital.. a little out of place and a little disappointed.. ready for a drink.
