Growing up in Baltimore, we had Washington, D.C., in our backyard. We spent Chol Hamoed trips there, school trips there, and any-other-opportunity trips there.
The result was that, despite its glamorous status as the nation’s capital, Washington became a big bore. Been there, done that.
But my attitude changed when I entered the Museum of American History on date number seven with the man who was soon to become my chassan.
Although I’d seen these displays countless times, they came alive as we wandered the halls and discussed them together. We paused and settled on some benches in front of a display of a nuclear fallout shelter. This shelter was originally built in 1955 by the Anderson family in their yard in Indiana.
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