...When the news came of bin Laden’s death, I felt numb at first. Rather than exult, I could only mourn my friends and the other Americans who lost their lives. My roommate — my best friend and another Marine veteran — suggested we do a shot to celebrate bin Laden’s killing.
We had only imported alcohol on hand, so we chose a couple of ounces of rum from Puerto Rico instead of French liqueurs or vodkas. We continued watching the news: the slips in verbiage that confused “Obama” and “Osama”; the bold, galvanizing speech of the commander in chief; the crowds gathering on the streets of New York and at the gates of the White House. I knew, despite living in Towson, that I had to be at the president’s home, too.
I raced down I-295 in my Lincoln and scanned the different AM stations. Yes, he is dead. Shot in the head. SEAL Team 6. A good and historic day.
I parked several blocks from the White House and could hear the cheers reverberating. I saw cars zipping through the cross streets, honking their horns, sometimes a passenger’s hand holding the American flag out the window.
The scene outside the White House felt like a big hug. It didn’t matter that I had come alone; I was here with a thousand of my fellow Americans. And we were wild with patriotism, even cheering the cops who were trying to corral us away from the fence...
PHOTO BLOG OF THE SCENE OUTSIDE THE WHITE HOUSE (all photos by me):
All content ©Dario DiBattista 2011. All posts are for display purposes only and not to be considered published.
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