(One member of the Writer’s Section first knew this building when the blue diamonds of the façade decorated the glass frontage of a single-story Chevy Dealership in Arlington, VA. The quotation incorporated in this grand new Accenture Building is a welcome ironic note today).
We took a drive in the country yesterday. An accident of the calendar made it mildly symbolic. It was a Friday and just a day short of an even two weeks into an auspicious month in the Piedmont. The Greenery was inescapable at The Farm. Imposing almost. The sere stark months of winter were banished, and life was amok once more.
So, tradition of the date and day notwithstanding, we engaged a reliable local Driver originally from Bolivia and went for a drive in the fine solid German automobile that echoed the mild apprehension about the date with the number of years since manufacture. In other times, such a drive would have commenced in a semi-urban area and passed through some rural vistas before returning to the bustle of the city.
This one was the new norm- starting in the trees and verdant fields, touching briefly on a landscape populated with abrupt vertical towers and sixty miles of slab highways all apparently “shovel ready” in some other time of Appropriation, and only culminating in actual shoveling now.
That was a visual demonstration of one of the minor confusions in our lives- the changing of seasons and of the land itself.
Reason for the trip? A marvelous luncheon sponsored by the Professionals group that has been an excellent way to stay in touch with some marvelous people who shared the intricacies of an odd but fulfilling career. There was a traditional honor for sustained service bestowed on a Great American, Dave McMunn, that was wonderful to see. And some remarks by another who was elevated to the grade of Vice Admiral to take command of one of the Agencies some of us were around to see established.
(VADM Frank “Trey” Whitworth)
Frank Whitworth is currently the Director of Intelligence on the Joint Staff where some of worked in other wars, and has been confirmed by the Senate to serve as the eighth director of the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency. We remember the laughs around the christening of the place- a wag had suggested one that in short form sounded a bit like a surgical preparation, depending on how the “N” was pronounced. A reasonable and more respectable three-letter title was adopted and the Agency was charged with analyzing and distributing geospatial intelligence for the national security community.
It was a great luncheon, and another interesting drive back toward the country. As the bands of construction fell away and the rural scenery rebounded, we appreciated the new rhythm of the ride. Upon return, some sort of elven magic had occurred. The new planter, laboriously assembled on-site after surviving supply side disruptions, had apparently decided to produce something on its own.
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