There is a “cavern” under the Lincoln Memorial. It once had stalactites; it may still have them.
The Lincoln Memorial means so much.
For American history buffs, Lincoln was truly a giant among men, perhaps the only man who could have held the Union together through the Civil War.
For others, it represents civil rights not civil war. Marion Anderson sang there on Easter Sunday 1939 after being denied access to the Daughters of The American Revolution’s Constitution Hall. Martin Luther King delivered his 1963 I have a dream speech from the Memorial’s steps.
Like almost any government project, the memorial was controversial and took longer to construct than expected.
Squabbles over design lasted from the 1860s until 1914. One major concern was the swampy land where it was to be located. The land was reputed to be a dumping ground for murder victims and not suitable for such a distinguished monument.
Most of the memorial was up by 1917, but World War I got in the way, and it wasn’t completed until 1922.
Marble and limestone (this is important to our story) from Alabama, Colorado, Indiana and Tennessee were used for the upper portion. Massachusetts granite was used in the terrace walls and steps.
For Alie and me, it is all of the above and more. It is a place of nostalgia and one unusual tourist adventure.
Two students on tight budgets in the 1960s would meet, one working late into the night in the “attic” of the Cannon House Office building, the other researching at the Library of Congress. There were few places open late in the evening, even for a cup of coffee. But we could visit the Lincoln Memorial 24 hours a day. Security back then meant an occasional park policeman wandered by. We sat between the columns, feet dangling over the side, looking at the Reflecting Pool, the Washington Monument and the National Mall. Once, a full moon rose over the Capitol Building.
Fast forward to 1994. The superintendent of a construction project at our condominium building was also the superintendent of a project to restore and strengthen the foundation of the Lincoln Memorial. He invited us visit. We did.
Entering through a metal door at the back of a bathroom [now remodeled out of existence], we found ourselves in a huge cavern. Far above us was the floor where tourists trod looking at Lincoln’s statute. We went down steps to the cavern floor below ground level. The walls of the cavern on three sides were the Memorial’s foundation. On the fourth side, the ceiling extended out ever-lower beneath the steps toward the Reflecting Pool.
Early 1900s construction workers put still-visible graffiti on support columns and walls.
Over decades, water seeped through fine cracks in the limestone. Just as in a natural cave, the seeping water formed stalactites hanging from the ceiling. We were permitted to take one. We still have it.
Click on photos to enlarge.
P.S. Sculptor Daniel Chester French gave Lincoln an exceptionally interesting and pensive expression. When you visit, walk to the far right and look at him. Then walk to the far left and look at him. From one side, he has a small smile; from the other, he has a small frown.
P.P.S. As I wrote in another post, familiarity breeds indifference. In tens of thousands of my photos, I could not find one of the Lincoln Memorial.