02/07/2025
For 200 years, I have watched the world change. My glass has framed the faces of those who came before you—dreamers, soldiers, lovers, and mourners. I have seen children press their hands against me, eyes wide with wonder. I have seen mothers watch for their sons returning from war. I have seen men stare out, shoulders heavy with the weight of a nation in crisis. Through me, people have witnessed the battle cries of the Civil War, the parades of victory after two world wars, the despair of the Great Depression, the marches for justice in the streets below, and even, on a quiet night, a man take his first steps on the moon.
Time and hardship have worn me down—storms rattled my panes, fire blackened my frame, and neglect nearly left me to ruin. But someone saw my worth, saw the stories etched into my wood and glass, and chose to save me. And now, here I stand, letting the morning sun slip through my sash once more.
Not everything old should be cast aside. Some things—some stories—deserve to endure. I have seen 200 years of history, and thanks to those who believe in restoration, I will see 200 more.
