Boarding a plane at Washington Dulles we were held aside while 50 WWII veterans, filed past to board first. Even in high-pressure D.C. no one complained. In fact I, like others, felt honored to stand aside and offer a kind of friendly honor guard as they boarded.

As their line slowly passed mine I talked to several guys. One remarkably spry fellow told me he was 94, and that the man behind him was his baby brother. The younger man, only 85, told me there were four brothers, all of whom had gone to war – and come back alive. I thought of their mother and father, long dead now, and the years of agony they must have experienced with all four of their sons in a war.  I heard there were two Pearl Harbor survivors in the group but never met them. I did however talk to a man who proudly announced that he was the youngest of the whole bunch, at only 81. I quickly did the math and said “Wait a minute, you must have been a kid!” “Yep,” he answered, “I enlisted at 16.”

A woman in line behind me googled “World War II veterans Washington DC” on her cell phone and relayed to us that a nonprofit had been formed in recent years, called Honor Flight Network, to bring groups of veterans to DC to see the WWII Memorial on the National Mall.  The whole experience made me feel good. Good that these men are alive, and that after the horrors of the largest war in human history they had lived long and I hope peaceful lives. But I also felt good that the nonprofit sector had provided a vehicle for a group of volunteers to organize, raise funds, and give these men some small measure of the boundless thanks they deserve.

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After working all weekend in New York I arrived around noon Monday at National Airport. I still can’t call it Reagan. After checking into my hotel, I headed to The Mall – think Washington Monument, not American Eagle.

The Smithsonian has totally renovated the National Museum of American History building. In addition to an impressive display on the history of America’s wars I went to the actual Julia Child Kitchen from her TV show, which they have installed right in the museum. They also have a prominent display of an original Dumbo car from the Disneyland ride. I think I must have sat in that car as a kid, growing up in LA.

The most amazing experience I had in the museum, however, was not the collection itself, but something I witnessed on the way out. I passed a door marked “Staff only.” It popped open a crack and a black Labrador Retriever came out, on a leash, but I couldn’t see the owner on the other side of the door. On my side of the door, someone had tied a rope to the door handle. As the lab grabbed the rope in his mouth and pulled the door the rest of the way open, out came a woman in a wheelchair. Then she told the dog to “drop it,” he let the door close, and off they went!

I went next to the National Art Museum to escape the busloads of school kids, who tend to prefer the more fun museums (as do I). It is a beautiful, quiet space with wonderful pieces. Then I walked to the Washington Monument.

Near the Monument, there was an NRA gun rights rally in full swing, and coming from California, I have never seen how passionate (and a little scary) some of these gun advocates are. There were whole families walking around wearing pro-gun stickers, even the littlest kids. I also saw someone carrying a toddler with a t-shirt that read “Guns Save Lives,” and older guys with hats and flags that had pictures of AK-47’s on them. The following day the national NORML march to legalize marijuana is scheduled to take place. As I headed back to the hotel I wondered how many people came for the gun rally, but will then stay for the pot rally?

It is one of those moments when you just have to say “ain’t America great?”