For those of you who don’t know - I live in the Washington, D.C. area. When former President Jimmy Carter died, he lied in state at the Capitol Rotunda for about two days. I was one of many people who came to witness him.
I stood in line outside for three hours in temperatures in the high teens or early twenties. When I finally entered the Capitol, I waited another 30 or 45 minutes inside. Compared to others, I got there early, at about 4:30pm. By the time I left at about 8:30, the line was at least twice as long
When I finally entered the Rotunda, it was a scene that was more powerful than what television can portray. Unfortunately and understandably, no photography was allowed.
The Rotunda is an artistic masterpiece that I lack the understanding to explain. Carter’s coffin was guarded by six service members (presumably for the different branches of the military), and flanked by classical art, statues of iconic presidents, and in a room that beckons one to look up and marvel.
All the while, dozens of people were filling in and out of the room, in total silence, some in prayer, some in contemplation, many like myself and unsure how to process the whole ordeal. To be honest, I’m still processing what I saw, and this post is my best attempt.
Jimmy Carter was not a great president. His administration was a case study in how many of the world’s problems are out of the president’s control. His life, however, was a case study in how many of the world’s problems are within one person’s control.
As a former president, he was entitled to this ritual, just as American citizens were entitled to participate in this moment of history.
As an onlooker, you feel small in the Rotunda, yet unmistakably part of something bigger than yourself. Something as large and unmoving as the Capitol itself, beautiful and significant as the art surrounding you, and yet still fraily human as the dozens of other onlookers with you, the soldiers standing sentinel, the deceased at the center of it all.
Thousands of people braved the elements for hours to pay their final respects to a dead leader they didn’t vote for or fully approved of. That too, was part of the ritual.
If you’re ever in the D.C. area when a president lies in states, I implore you to visit him or her at the Rotunda. You learn the heart of our Republic aspires to more than just political success, its longevity lasting beyond one person’s flesh and bone, and its participation open to all. And all of that is so very beautiful.