Laying of the Wreaths 2017

Driving the George Washington Parkway from Virginia into Washington, DC, you cannot miss the drama of Arlington National Cemetery on your right. You look out onto row after row of white crosses as they march in silent columns over the rolling hills of Virginia. Watered by tears, drenched in blood, the graves of 400,000 veterans and their families are silent reminders of the high cost of freedom. For the past ten years, thousands of people have come to Arlington in December to participate in a ceremony known as the Laying of the Wreaths.

 

Looking at the Washington Monument from a hill at Arlington National Cemetery.

 

It all began in 1992 when Merrill Worcester, owner of the Worcester Wreath Company in Maine, found himself with 5,000 pieces of excess stock. As a child, he’d been struck by the sad beauty of Arlington National Cemetery. This 1,100-acre plot of land has been a sacred spot since the 1850s when George Washington Parke Custis dedicated it to the memory of his step-grandfather, George Washington. During the Civil War, federal troops used the grounds as headquarters and burial grounds. By the third year of the war, D.C. graveyards had run out of space, and so two hundred more acres at Arlington were set aside for the dead. Shortly thereafter, the site was turned into a national cemetery.

Worcester decided to donate his wreaths, asking that they be placed on graves in one of the older (and less visited) sections of the graveyard. Since then, this simple act has become an annual tradition that occurs on the third Saturday each December at Arlington and 1,200 additional locations in all 50 U.S. states, at sea, and abroad. The mission of National Wreaths Across America Day is to Remember, Honor and Teach.

Yesterday, my husband and I joined a group of friends to participate. The ground was freezing; the surface was slick with ice and traces of snow. Traffic backed up for miles over the bridge, so we opted to say goodbye to our Uber driver and walk the final mile or so.  Fortunately, we were all appropriately bundled up. Once we passed under the Arlington’s gateway, we made our way to sections of the graveyard where trucks were parked, and volunteers unloaded unassuming brown cardboard boxes. We took our places in line, using the time to gaze around at the variety of monuments. One was copyrighted by Tiffany. Another was a single, huge granite ball. A cannon stands sentinel amidst a group of headstones. An angel blows a horn from one carved headstone.

Eventually we were each given one wreath. Tradition demands that you say the name of the fallen as you set down your wreath. Thus, we remembered the fallen by bringing them back to living memory once more.

 

Do you have a family member interred at Arlington? Have you been to Arlington?

Side Trips

It seems like everything is hitting the fan at one time. I got the go ahead on the synopsis for the sixth crochet mystery and today got my revision letter for You Better Knot Die. Tomorrow (I’m posting this Friday night) is the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books and I’m going to be in the Sisters in Crime booth Saturday from 4-6. Anybody in the area please stop by. The booth is near Royce Hall. Then it’s get ready to go to Malice Domestic in Washington DC. I’m leaving Thursday morning. It’s a chance to meet up with a lot of my writer friends, and hang out in the hospitality room with Joanna. Berkley takes all their writers out to a fabulous dinner at RuthChris Steakhouse (they have a nice vegetarian option) and there’s a banquet on Saturday night. I’m going to be on a panel Sunday morning about red herrings with a book signing afterwards.

The cool thing about the Washington Trip is that the subway station is practically in the hotel. The first time I discovered the subway, I was surprised at how easy it was to get to all the good place. A few stops and you come up in the Mall. One direction is the capital and the other the Washington Monument. And in between all the Smithsonian museums.

This year I’m planning to go somewhere different. I discovered if you take the subway in the opposite direction, it’s only a few stops plus a bus to Old Town Alexandria. I have an book that describes walking tours in and around Washington. That’s where I found out how close Alexandria is to where I’m staying. The book didn’t have any pictures, but it described various old buildings. I find the pictures never really tell enough anyway.

So for now, what it looks like is a bit of mystery to me. I know there is an old apothecary that in the old days had globes of different color water to tell people who couldn’t read when there was an epidemic of some bad disease like plague, cholera or yellow fever. There a Palladian style mansion which interests me because there was a whole thing about Palladian houses in Dead Men Don’t Crochet. I had to write about the style from pictures. It would be nice to see what it looks like in real life.

I know this trip is about meeting readers and spending some time with my agent and editor, but I always like to throw in some tourists stuff. I already signed up for next year’s Left Coast Crime because its in Santa Fe and I’ve always wanted to go there. Last year’s Left Coast was in Hawaii. I loved the day trip I took around the Kona coast. Each night I watched the sunset either from the balcony of my room or from down by the water. It was very cool to encounter a sea turtle sleeping on the black rocky beach.

It’s not going to be all fun and tours, though. I’ll be working on the sixth crochet mystery and the revisions for You Better Knot Die, though that will be mostly during my stop in Chicago after DC.

How about you? Do you like to mix pleasure in with business?















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The Beauty of Life Is Fleeting--A Brief History of the Cherry Blossom Trees

The Cherry Blossom Festival is an eagerly awaited rite of Spring every year here in Washington, DC, but after this year's Snowmageddon, the opening of the blossoms seems extra-special. David and I carefully watched the blossom calendar in each issue of the Washington Post to plan our visit to the Tidal Basin. Friday was a perfect day. The weather was mild, the sky was clear and away we went!

HISTORY OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS

Back in 1885, Mrs. Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore, had recently returned to Washington, DC, from Japan with an idea: Why not plant the flowering cherry tree (Sakura),along the Potomac waterfront? For 24 years, she approached various officials, but with no success.

THE FIRST LADY GETS INVOLVED

In 1909, Mrs. Scidmore sent a letter to First Lady Helen Taft. Since the First Lady had lived in Japan, she was familiar with the trees. Mrs. Taft quickly responded that she thought "it would be best to make an avenue of them...."

SETBACKS OCCUR

Two thousand trees were donated, but turned out to be the wrong cultivar. Then 2,000 more were ordered, and these turned out to be infested with insects and nematodes. They had to be destroyed. Somehow the Japanese Ambassador Sutemi Chinda became involved. Dr. Jokichi Takamine, the chemist who discovered adrenaline, donated the money for the trees.

THE TREES ARE PLANTED

On March 27, 1912, First Lady Helen Taft and Viscountess Chinda, wife of the Japanese Ambassador, planted two trees on the bank of the Tidal Basin. All in all, 3,020 trees are planted.

A SAD NOTE

In Japan, the cherry tree blossoms represent how fleeting the beauty of life is. Two years after the ceremony, Ambassador Chinda and his wife were joined in Washington, DC, by their son, Masuyo, who enrolled in a master's program in Johns Hopkins University. There, the young man worked for two years, but on April 18, 1916, Masuyo Chinda hanged himself as "a direct consequence of ...strain induced by overwork."

THE MEANING OF LIFE IS BOUND UP IN ITS BREVITY

So the next time you see a picture of the cherry trees in blossom, remember: They are only fleeting, and so is all of this. I think that's one of the reasons I love writing mysteries. Each time I write about death, I am forced to think about life, and what matters to me. Hearing this story about the death of the Chindas' son, I think I viewed the blossoms with a bit more appreciation. They certainly had more meaning for me.

How about you?

Malice Domestic

Better late than never. I was going to write my blog this morning, but I'm staying at a hotel in Washington DC for the Malice Domestic convention and the fire alarm went off. Of course, my first thought was that it was some kind of test, but the whining sound continued and there was an announcement saying there was a fire emergency and to evacuate the hotel.

Luckily, there was a terry cloth robe in my room. Thanks to Southern California earthquakes, I always have my purse and shoes next to my bed. So, I threw on the robe, grabbed my purse and stepped into my Crocs and headed out into the hall. It was strangely quiet in the hall and I began to wonder if only my room had gotten the fire alarm, but then people began to stumble out of their rooms. I noticed most had more clothes on than I did. One woman seemed almost hysterical as we tried to find the stairs.

Once we found the stairwell, there were others already heading down. I was on the seventh floor, but it seemed like the flights of stairs went on forever. At last we stepped out in front of the hotel. People were milling around as the fire department arrived. They jumped off their truck, grabbing their equipment. The manager came outside and told us that there was no fire. Apparently, only three floors had been evacuated and it had something to do with the water pressure going down on the sprinkler system. But even so, the elevators wouldn't be working until the fire department checked everything out.

I noticed I was the only one in a robe as I followed the crowd back into the lobby. One of the doormen made a joking comment about the casual look being in. So, the choice was mill around in my terry cloth robe and black shoes or climb back up the seven flights of chairs.

I haven't been to the gym for a few days, so I opted for the stairs. I got back in my room just in time for my wake up call, which I obviously didn't need.

Nothing like a little excitement to jazz things up.

This convention is great. All my blog sisters except Linda are here. I'd never met Camille before and barely met Joanna. It was nice to see them in person. Monica came to dinner wearing a stunning hat and Terri and I hit a museum together today.

Now I need to finish my crochet piece for my panel tomorrow morning. Our panel is called Killer Hobbies and we're going to talk about how our crafts are intertwined with our mysteries.

My piece is both a clue and a weapon.