For Tim McBride, this is bigger than Woodstock.
It is 12 hours until the inauguration, and McBride is looking at the White House from across the street in Lafayette Park. He’s standing with his son, Eamonn, and his son’s friend, Kacey, who grew up so poor that he’d never had a chance to visit a big city.
McBride has been here before, and so has his son. But this time is different for both of them. This time, it’s like a pilgrimage.
“It’s a thing from my generation, but have you ever heard of a contact high?” McBride asks. “It’s like contact elation.”
They are standing at attention, looking straight ahead and completely silent. The rows of soldiers go on for what seems to be an eternity. And with each corner turned there are even more, just standing there, looking out at the world. Some of them look stern and confident; others are smiling. But every one of them is dead.
These are the faces of the
Their portraits line the walls of Syracuse University in New York and the hall of the Women’s Memorial in Washington D.C.’s Arlington National Cemetery. Both “Faces of the Fallen” memorials have been created to honor the lives of these soldiers.