Today: "Sally Forth," a federal worker in Washington, D. The Time of the Preacher Sally Forth. I am a federal worker in Washington, D. I am middle-aged. I am a minority.
It is three weeks now into the transition of the new President, Donald J. Trump, in the Year of our lord In the quiet hours of the morning, my very own private D.
Weeping willows on every other block, leafless in January, lean like giant Rapunzels casting down their hair. I am so close! And also so far from the Sturm und Drang of the business of the Capitol and the fury of the very new very old man in the White House. To drown out the eerie silence: Willie Nelson. A red-headed stranger, prowling the land, bent upon revenge:. Wanted to see up close: what would that look like? I wore a MAGA hat for safety. In the station I saw a boy, 10 years old?
Asian descent, with a white mom in a baseball cap. The boy held a Trump flag twice as big as he was and ran back and forth near the entrance to make the flag stream out behind him. His face looked proud and flushed. His mom took videos of him on her phone. Donald Trump will fail you. Your mother and father will fail you. Your sons and daughters will fail you. Jesus never fails. I got hoodies!
I got scarves! From the arena I started walking, trying to find the end of the line. I walked, first in a light mist and later in pelting sleet, for 30 minutes until I ended up on the Mall across from the Air and Space Museum. A line 30 minutes long.
