Photo by Cary Scott Photography
On my way to work this morning during the early hours of the morning when the Sun was not yet to be found, I inadvertently found myself sitting in the midst of a group of people on the 36 Bus who were just as eager to get to work as I was. Each person’s story was so wildly different from mine. I could hear it without asking. Each person’s story was so wildly similar to mine. I sensed it without knowing. The bus ride took us through Pennsylvania Avenue, by the White House, by the Museums and Memorials, up Independence Avenue next to the Native American Museum and the Botanical Gardens. In the twilight arose the Capitol, a product of the great Experiment. I saw a glimpse of America. I saw the pulse of a nation.
In the bus, I saw the homeless, the weary, the restless. I saw the eager, the proud, and the hungry. I saw poor and the rich. The bus driver while doing his job, taking the first bus from all Friendship Heights to the Naylor Road station, must have at some point realized the importance of his duty. He must have at some point in his career seen how critical it was for him to get up earlier than everyone else to drive these commuters to their livelihood. I took the early bus because I wanted to be early, but didn’t expect the bus to be full.
I used to think that for every industrious person, there were 10 lazy people who didn’t want or need to work hard for others. Today, my mind has changed. Tonight I go to sleep knowing that tomorrow morning, there will be another bus load of people going from Friendship Heights Station to the Naylor Road Station and at 5:15 am it will pass through the village of Georgetown through Wisconsin Avenue and M. St. I’ll hopefully catch it as it goes by Thomas Jefferson St.
