Nathaniel Ward’s hands trembled as he unrolled the parchment. The stakes were higher than any column or arch he’d ever designed. This wasn’t just a monument—it was to be the monument. A symbol for a fledgling nation clawing its way through political strife and fragile alliances.

President Washington’s words echoed in his mind: “We need more than marble and mortar, Mr. Ward. We need something that will outlast the squabbles of men.”

It had been weeks since that meeting. Nathaniel had locked himself in his workshop, ignoring the jeers of rival architects who called him too young, too inexperienced. His neighbors in the muddy streets of the District muttered that he was chasing an impossible dream.

But Nathaniel couldn’t let their doubts weigh him down. He knew what this monument had to be. It had to whisper to the future, Remember what we built here, even if we falter.

He sketched furiously, envisioning a towering obelisk—a shape both ancient and timeless. Simple, yes, but bold. A single spire reaching toward the heavens, free of partisan flourishes.

His design earned silence when presented to the committee. The room of powdered wigs and frock coats leaned in, murmurs of skepticism punctuated by moments of awe. Finally, Washington himself stood.

“This,” he said, voice firm, “will do.”

The construction site was chaos the day they laid the cornerstone. Laborers shouted over each other, hauling limestone and carving wooden scaffolds. Dust filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of hammer on stone.

Nathaniel watched it all, his heart swelling. He knew it would take decades to complete. He wouldn’t live to see it rise to its full height. But that didn’t matter.

“Do you think they’ll understand what you’ve built?” asked a mason, wiping sweat from his brow as the cornerstone settled into place.

Nathaniel smiled, looking toward the horizon, where the city itself was still a skeleton of muddy streets and scaffolds.

“They don’t have to,” he said. “It’s for those who come after us. For the ones who will stand here and know we tried to build something better.”

As the cornerstone was lowered into the earth, Nathaniel felt the weight of history shift onto the obelisk he had only begun to dream. In the shadow of the stone, hope and unity took root.