Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100perspective 58 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine Searching for Join us on a journey to the national mall. no waiting in line. By colin W. sargent & sarah Moore as $200 for two tickets. We ended up paying $40 for a pair. “Our tickets are for 3 p.m., but it’s 1:30,” we say to the lady at the gate. “Is there a place we can wait inside, or can we get some lunch before our time starts?” “Just follow them,” she says. “Once you’re in, you’re in.” Hungry, we take the escalator down to the cafeteria, which is divided into three tantalizing food geographies to begin our three-dimensional experience. Should we try “The Creole Coast” (shrimp and grits, catfish, gumbo); “The Agricultural South” (Brunswick stew, chicken and waffles); or “The Western Range?” I see a chef with dreadlocks. I say, “I’m from Maine. If I want to channel that, what should I order?” A big smile. “Beef brisket sandwich.” Okay! The food is wildly delicious. The vibe is upbeat, quietly triumphant, relaxed. We seat ourselves at the family-style table, and everyone makes small talk. A quote from Langston Hughes shimmers on the wall. “They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes, but I laugh, and eat well, and grow strong.” According to Gerald E. Talbot and H.H. Price in Maine’s Visible Black History (Til- bury House), Langston Hughes stayed in Maine at Ethel Goode Franklin’s guest house in Ogunquit during the production of one of his plays. “…Most of her guests were blacks.” In Old Orchard Beach, a des- tination attraction was “110,” for 110 Port- land Avenue, which welcomed guests from Duke Ellington to Cab Calloway, Count Basie, and Harlem Renaissance poet Coun- tee Cullen. In Kittery, vacationers loved Rock Rest. A single woman joins us. “Where are you from?” we ask. “California.” She looks around, taking in the excite- ment. “Well, it took over 100 years of try- We arrive in Washing- ton, D.C. by train. It’s an eight-minute taxi ride from Union Station to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. The Washington Monument looms to our left. Our cab pulls up to the front door. We join a group of excited children in blue uniforms emblazoned Montessori Magnet School. The line moves incredibly quickly, contrary to all we’d heard. “You should have seen it last week,” our taxi driver says. When we tried to reserve our free timed passes three months ago, no ad- vance spots were left for the day we were scheduled to arrive. We could have risked trying to get some same-day passes once we got into town, but on any given day we looked at the site, we saw they were sold out by 7 a.m. So on to eBay. The prices went from “$60 for four tickets or best of- fer.” Some re-sellers were asking as much