Tuesday night I walked from the Capitol down to the Washington monument, and despite the heat and my black work dress (I did have the sense to put sneakers on) I decided to keep walking down to the Vietnam memorial.  I didn’t know that on the way that I would pass the World War II Memorial, which I had never seen before (and is probably the one thing Bob Dole ever did that didn’t offend me in some profound way).  My grandfather fought in Germany during WWII, so it was a poignant visit for me – especially seeing the Maine granite column:

Finally, I made it to the Vietnam Memorial just as the sun began setting.  It’s a difficult thing to photograph; the panels of names are built into the side of a hill, and for me it’s the most somber of all the monuments.  My dad’s two tours of duty in Vietnam have a lot to do with that, I’m sure.