I come to this place every time I am in the capital. My favorite spot to sit is just outside of the shadow cast by the large building encompassing our shared hero. From here most of the large staircase lays below me. I have a vantage point over those visitors who are just starting their journey to the top of the stairs. I can also see the reflecting pool and those who stroll along its tree lined edges escaping the heat of the day beneath the canopy.

There is a point at which there is a break in the stairs. it is upon this landing that people usually pause to take a breath and get their bearings. Invariable the children keep running up as the adults straighten a bit and perhaps look out at the view for the first time. While a lengthy staircase, it isn’t impossible for most to climb. In the summertime the heat and humidity make it feel harder and longer than it is.

The marble is cool beneath where I sit bringing a subtle relief from the heat that weighs on the rest of my body. I place my hands on the cool surface too, not to steady myself but to bring the cool relief to my arms as well.

There is something special about this landing that it takes most people a beat to notice upon arrival here; the words etched in marble awaiting to be noticed. I see a young woman pause as she tries to read what it says. The glare from the intense sun reflecting off the surface makes it hard for her to read. She cleverly pours some of her bottled water on it and the words come to life. I watch the recognition cross her face as she looks up at the view with eyes anew. A smile tugs at the edges of her mouth as she calls to her traveling companion who is still more than a few steps behind her. His exertion is visible in the beads of sweat across his brow and in the irritation in his voice as he responds. An irritation that dissipates almost as quickly as her water dries – both seared by the sun-baked day and the heat of the significance of where they stand. They share a moment of what that place means to them – having long heard stories of the Dream laid out there by a brave man, another one of our shared heroes, demanding equality. I can just barely hear their comments of gratitude.

I like to sit here and see that reaction, that pause. I sit after having already gone up and paid homage to the president. His statue so large we are all forced to look up to him, even the tallest visitor coming no where near the soles of his shoes. This room always feels a little claustrophobic to me. The large walls from floor to ceiling awash with the even larger words demanding equality in a time when many fought against it. An equality that took his life to give.

This is a monument to Lincoln, but for me it is one to both of these heroes that gave their lives in the fight for the freedom and equality we still strive for in America. Dr. King has his own monument of course, but this one, to me, is the layering of the struggle. The building upon. The Dream yet to be realized.

I like to sit here and watch the people who visit this place. To honor these men who fought and gave their lives for something far greater than themselves. I like to see the diversity of the visitors. I like to listen to their accents that appear to be from all over the country and all over the world. I like to remind myself that somethings are worth fighting for. I like to think these two men would enjoy sitting here too. Seeing the diversity in the visitors. Knowing their fight was and still is a noble one.

“let all Americans – let all lovers of liberty everywhere join in the great and good work.” – President Abraham Lincoln