A week ago yesterday, our usual post-class group tour took us the National Archives, a very grand and intimidating-looking building that holds our nation's most sacred historical documents, including the Bill of Rights, Declaration of Independence, and perhaps most amazing, the Constitution.
Our tour guide was very no-nonsense, very swift, and... very New Yawk. The accent and the attitude were unmistakable -- she meant business.
She bustled around frantically trying to show us as much as possible during our short amount of time there (don't dawdle, you don't have time!) and at the end, encouraged us (very strongly) to come back and see everything for ourselves. She explained that anyone can take advantage of the Archives' research center, containing a plethora of information available only on site, to find whatever bit of the past one may be looking for. So I took it as a challenge.
The very next day, I went back to the Archives and accompanying me was my just-as-enthusiastic boyfriend (no, really) who was visiting for the weekend. The process of becoming a citizen researcher was fast -- fifteen minutes after walking in, we were given our official researcher identification cards, complete with our obviously terrible mug shots. We were formally free to peruse.
The volumes of history the Archives has for your own personal use is astounding. I was shocked at all of the information I had available at my fingertips. Old marriage certificates, my relatives' names before immigration changed them, the address of every house my dad has ever lived at as an adult (a bit unnerving) -- it's all stored in the Archives. However, my most incredible finds were long-ago records on my great-grandfather, who passed away before I was born. His name recorded on the passenger list of the boat he took from Italy to get to the US (it was 1903 and he was an unaccompanied 13-year-old), his World War I and World War II draft registrations, in his own handwriting, and even a photo of him sitting in a lawn chair, half-smiling on a sunny 4th of July in 1947. I had never seen a photo of him before this trip. It was extraordinary.
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| My great-grandfather on July 4th, 1947. |
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| My great-grandfather's WWII draft registration filled out at the age of 52. |
My boyfriend was able to request military records from their holding place in St. Louis, and inquire about replacing his late grandfather's lost Purple Heart earned during WWII. I was able to leave with copies of all my findings and send them along to the rest of my family. I strolled out, proudly wearing my researcher ID of course, extremely grateful that I'm a (temporary) resident of Washington, DC and have the opportunity to go back and discover even more history.
--Grace
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