Photos transport me to 1986 - and Washington, D.C.

I spent a good half hour recently digging through boxes in search of a handful of photos I took during one of the most beautiful and serene evenings of my life.

When I found them, I was transported back - as I hoped I would be - to a hushed and snowy night in February of 1986.

I lived near Washington, D.C., then and worked for a high school civic education program.

For several weeks each year, our entire staff moved into a large hotel in the district where we played host to 450 high school students a week who flew in from all over the United States for a first-hand look at the federal government.

Although we had no way not knowing it then, we couldn't have chosen a better time to be in our nation's capital.

The 9/11 attacks were still 15 years away. Most buildings had metal detectors at the doors, but aside from that, access was largely unrestricted.

We accompanied our students to seminars and activities all over the city: The State Department, the Pentagon, the White House, even the Central Intelligence Agency.

Two days of each week were spent entirely on Capitol Hill, where each of our high school juniors and seniors had appointments to meet their senators and representatives.

They were also encouraged to attend committee meetings, spend time in the galleries overlooking the floors of the Senate and House, queue up for seats to watch the Supreme Court in session, visit the Library of Congress, and explore on their own.

As staff members, we were on the Hill those days as well, with hours to roam the corridors of the House and Senate office buildings, as well as our historic and breathtaking Capitol building.

It never grew old and I never had my fill.

On the evening I remember most, we were back at our hotel when snow started to fall - heavily - as our long day drew to a close. Our students were inside enjoying some free time before settling down for their nighttime curfew and bed checks.

Someone on our staff - I wish I could take credit but all I can remember is that it was not me - suggested a late-night Metro ride to Capitol Hill to see it in the snow.

Our hotel was a short walk from the red line of the district's subway system, only six quick stops from Union Station, the magnificent old train depot a couple of blocks north of the Capitol.

In the end, only a few of us went. It was late. We were exhausted. We had no good winter clothing. But it promised to be a once in a lifetime moment.

And it was.

The photos don't begin to capture the magic. It was after 10 p.m. when we arrived, and it was silent on the Hill.

It was still snowing. Enough had already accumulated to discourage driving. Between the late hour and the winter weather, there were no sightseers besides us.

Not a one.

We wandered about in awe in an enchanted wonderland illuminated by the vintage lamp globes that dot the grounds, and by the towering floodlit dome of the Capitol.

We stayed until our feet were numb and until we knew we would be in danger of missing the last train back to the hotel.

It was an exquisite experience, the peace and the loveliness of that hour etched forever in crystal clarity in my mind.

The images of our Capitol we've seen this month stand in harsh contrast to that dream-like evening I had 35 years ago.

And yet, I'm an optimist, albeit a desperate one.

I dream of peace and hope and tranquility in our future, the same peace and hope and tranquility I felt on that evening ... the night that our Capitol tucked in under a blanket of snow, and all seemed right with the world.

Betty Williamson is nostalgic and hopeful, whether she should be or not. Reach her at:

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