I made a quick trip to DC to see for myself what was going on. Trump had called up the National Guard to put down a fictitious wave of crime gripping the city. There’s crime in Washington, for sure, but violent crime is mostly confined to the poorest neighborhoods, well away from the government buildings and monuments. Arriving by train with my son Brendan, we found a city in a strange liminal state. There were a few bored National Guard troops walking around Union Station, but there was little evidence elsewhere of a crackdown. But ICE and other factions of Trump’s goon squad were active in the city, though we did not see them. Tourists had gotten the message, and the Mall was largely deserted. Downtown, the stores and restaurants were open, but the vibe subdued.
Our train arrived somewhat late because we had to take on extra passengers from a stranded train in New Jersey. My immediate goal was to take pictures of a press conference held by several House representatives and a number of victims of Jeffrey Epstein, the convicted pedophile, and close friend of Trump, who supposedly committed suicide in a Federal detention center in New York. The unreleased Epstein files hang like a Sword of Damocles over Trump and any number of other prominent political and business leaders who were associated with Epstein.
As we approached the presser taking place adjacent to the House steps, a squadron of fighter jets flew low overhead – possibly an intentional disruption. The official explanation, given later, was that it was meant to honor a Polish airman who had recently died in a crash. In the large meadow between the Capitol and the Library of Congress a banner read “You are all Cowards.”
Walking from the press conference, I photographed the west front of the Capitol, majestic and in pristine condition. Just six years ago, thousands of Trump supporters besieged the building, smashing in doors, scaling walls, and assaulting the Capitol police. When I was still a student, just before moving to New York, I lived for a time in Washington and worked as bike messenger. I went in and out of the Capitol many times with packages and envelopes intended for elected leaders and their staffs. Security was relatively light in those days, and I rarely needed to show ID as I was waved in past the tourists waiting in line. It was always a thrill to walk into the rotunda with the dome soaring high above. Whatever the failings of the United States – and there are many – the desecration of this building was a direct attack on the ideals that transcend these shortcomings.