Visiting Washington D.C. has become less frequent for me over the years, but when I do go, I make sure to visit my father. I often bring a beer and share updates about my life, his grandson who carries his name, and the current state of the nation. My next visit is poised to be the hardest yet, as I need to convey the heartbreaking news that my mother, his beloved wife, passed away in January. Our conversations take place at Grave 99, Section 3, in Arlington National Cemetery. My father, Cmdr. Peter Rodrick, tragically lost his life in a plane crash off the USS Kitty Hawk in 1979.
Throughout the 20 or so times I’ve visited, I’ve sat with him, reflecting and observing the solemn rituals of burying the dead. I’ve witnessed horse-drawn caissons carrying flag-draped coffins of young service members killed in Iraq or Afghanistan, followed by the somber sounds of a 21-gun salute as flags are presented to grieving families. I recognize the depth of loss that my own mother experienced.
One notable aspect of Arlington is its profound silence; even children visiting can appreciate the solemn nature of the grounds. However, this silence was disrupted recently by former President Donald Trump. I felt a surge of frustration watching him turn a ceremony commemorating the third anniversary of 13 soldiers’ deaths at Abbey Gate during the Afghanistan evacuation into a political stunt. He aimed to score points against the Biden-Harris administration regarding the chaotic departure from Kabul, a withdrawal initiated under his own administration.
Given Trump’s history, I should have anticipated such behavior. He has previously belittled John McCain for his capture during the Vietnam War and skipped a visit to a cemetery for American World War I dead, claiming it was filled with “losers.” He famously mocked the grieving mother of Humayun Khan, a soldier killed in Iraq, during the 2016 Democratic National Convention. Khizr Khan’s poignant defense of his wife highlighted Trump’s inability to empathize with a mother’s pain.
So, when I saw Trump at Arlington with a thumbs-up and a grin, it resembled a tourist’s visit rather than a moment of respect for fallen soldiers. It was shockingly inappropriate, yet consistent with his character. My concerns about whether his actions violated Arlington’s policy against politicization were validated when it was reported that Trump’s campaign staff clashed with Arlington officials over filming at the site, which is prohibited.
That such an incident occurred was unsurprising; what astonished me were the specifics. I lay awake wondering how a former president could misinterpret the significance of a place like Arlington. There are countless service members buried there who died in wars that were often unjust or not in the nation’s interest. My father himself lost his life during a training exercise, a result of the U.S. support for an oppressive regime in Iran.
Nonetheless, that’s secondary to the fundamental truth: these soldiers did not choose their fates but gave their lives for what they were led to believe was a critical cause for the nation’s future. The fact that many of those causes have proven misguided only deepens the tragedy of their sacrifices.
Donald Trump had alternatives to exploit Arlington for political gain; he could have chosen to honor the 13 fallen soldiers with a wreath in their memory, leaving his cameras behind. He had a choice, unlike my father and the many others who rest there in hallowed ground. His misguided choice should come as no surprise to anyone.