I can remember the first time I came to Washington some 35 years ago and walked around the White House, protected from the outside world by a freshly-black-painted, wrought-iron fence. I recall doing that not so long ago. I did it again Tuesday afternoon, at least on the Pennsylvania Avenue side. But down by the South Lawn I was amazed to see five — five! — barriers and two roadways separating the President from those he presides over. Of course it’s important to protect the President and his family. But I can’t figure out why, if the single fence is adequate on the White House’s north side, five are needed on the south side. The pair of roads — which used to be open to public traffic — is now open only to Secret Service police cars, horse-mounted policemen, bike-riding cops, and federal riding lawnmowers. So it can’t be a fear of car bombs.
Fences are, as Robert Frost knew, symbols. “We used to be able to get closer,” I heard a little boy say to his parents. That is the memory he took away from his mid-day visit to the Executive Mansion. Perhaps even more distressing is the ugly way the ugly fences have been constructed. A set of Jersey barriers is topped with fencing that has sent rust stains trickling down the barriers’ sides. Robert Moses would be proud: his Cross-Bronx Expressway has come to the White House grounds. I have watched this city, and this country, add layer upon layer of security to itself since 9/11. The cops milling around the White House complex give it an insecure air, instead of the stately presence I fondly recall. If this continues, the nation risks becoming all carapace and no soul.