Vows

Dear Mr. Vogel and Mr. Vietzke,

I have spent the better part of the week staring at a half drafted email. To put into words what November Project means and why Lincoln Memorial is at the center of it all is near impossible. This must be what it is like to write your own wedding vows.

I don’t know if you’ve read all the notes from my friends, but I have. They have been thoughtful, eloquent, comical, and heartbreaking. Some are deeply personal. They highlight the shared goals between National Park Services and the November Project community. They stress why the Lincoln Memorial is so important. It’s not just a set of stairs. It’s our home.

There are so many reasons people find themselves at November Project. To fully understand how I came to join on a chilly late May morning in 2014, I’ve got to go back a few months. The previous fall had been a real kick in the face, to say it lightly. I decided the only way to move forward was to physically move forward. I signed up for a half-marathon and trained like my life depended on it (because, in some part, I felt like it did). I had never put so much into something as I did that race. I trained alone. I raced alone. But I did come across a crazy group of November Project yahoos at the end of the race, right about the time when the wheels were starting to come off, and I’ll never forget the love I felt from a complete group of strangers. Strangers, that I might add, became my closest friends only a short while later. I finished that race alone. No running partner. No friendly face to help me get home. Just myself. I sobbed at the finish line in part because I accomplished what I set out to do but also for the overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

The next Wednesday, I showed up to the Lincoln Memorial. And things forever changed. I’ll never again have to doubt whether I’ll have the support on race day and, even more importantly, in my life as a whole. There isn’t a moment when I don’t appreciate how a set of stairs could have such a profound impact on my life. No other place could do that.

We, the collective November Project community, are bound to those stairs because what they have given us — community, family, love, strength, purpose — and for what we have given them — our respect, sweat, determination, and resilience. We’ve been through snowstorms, government shutdowns, illnesses, seen engagements, and celebrated achievements. There is no better partnership that I can imagine. We’ve found our park, these letters are our vows, and I hope we can continue this crazy love affair.

Respectfully,

Maggie