Life in Washington, D.C. did give me a dose of “Potomac Fever.” The condition was not fatal, but it did have long-lasting effects. One of the symptoms was my feeling as if I were living in the center of all that was happening in the world. Every national event seemed to be local. For several years after we had moved to Amherst, Mass., I still subscribed to the Washington Post, until the Boston Globe took its place, but not quite.
On the first available weekend, once we were settled in our home on Cedar Lane in Bethesda, we drove around the District. On a Sunday, the traffic was more reasonable than during a weekday. The Mall and the Smithsonian museums became our magnet: on the north – American History, Natural History, and the Art Gallery; on the south – Freer Gallery, Smithsonian Castle, Hirshorn, Air and Space, and the Botanical Gardens. Changes occurred over the following decades, but these were the places for us to see again and again in the mid-1960’s. When friends came to visit, we would take them to sites everyone expected to see (the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial and the Washington Monument) and then to places for us to investigate for the first time. Strangely, perhaps, we never did get to see the inside of the White House. I went to some of the other major federal buildings on my own during those lunch hours I had when I was assigned to the DHEW.
On the other hand, our favorite locations included the National Zoo and the National Cathedral, even if it was high Episcopalian. Both were very peaceful venues to stroll as a couple, although the kids, of course, preferred the zoo. A short time before our arrival in Washington, the Catholic Basilica of the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception had been completed. Around the main sanctuary, there were magnificent chapels dedicated to the Virgin Mary as she had appeared to various nations. However, we preferred the elegant Gothic setting of the Cathedral to the Byzantine style of the Basilica.
Following our arrival in the area, one of our first events was experiencing the Fourth of July fireworks on the grounds of the Mall. It was a grand exposure to what was potentially available in our Capital. Even the traffic jam was worth it.
The construction of the Metro subway system did not begin until the final year we lived in the D.C. area, so I learned to get around the District by car. After many attempts, I finally discovered how to navigate the Circle around the Lincoln Memorial and actually drive north on Rock Creek Parkway, instead of always landing in Arlington Cemetery in Virginia. Karen began to drive our car when we moved from Bethesda to Rockville during our second year in Washington. She had taken driving lessons during high school, but refused to drive when her father attempted to continue her lessons in drivers’ ed. She did her driving, now, in suburban Washington and allowed me to take the wheel for downtown excursions.
I, personally, had two destinations when I thought I needed to escape from the house by myself. During the day, one of them was Georgetown. The streets, with cobblestone or brick pavements lined by gas-converted lamps, were picturesque during the day or evening. I stayed in a townhouse there with young, single, physician friends from the NIH for a week while Karen was out of town with the kids. Georgetown would have been a great place to live, but my salary limited my desire. My second, favorite location was the Lincoln Memorial at dusk, when the fog began to rise from the Potomac. The sharp edges of the temple became concealed by the mists as my own thoughts of any leftover annoyances faded away. Perhaps, these river-mists were the real causes for my Potomac Fever.