Freedom Square

Rock Creek Park Horse Center

Right here in the middle of the city, there are stables and trees!

This is Asia leading Bertha from her stall.

First, she brushes Bertha and picks her hoofs.

Then she saddles and bridles her horse.

And, finally, Asia is mounted and riding. Today's lesson was about posting correctly. The kids learned how to walk their horses into a trot and then to canter smoothly. They do all of the grooming and prep work themselves. For more information about the Rock Creek Park Horse Center, go here.

Earthquake!

Yesterday, we experienced an earthquake! It registered 5.9 on the richter scale and shook the ground all the way from New York to North Carolina! Eric and I were in DC for a doctor's appointment and couldn't get out of the city. When the quake hit, everyone left their offices and classrooms, filing out into the street. Museums closed down and so did the subway system. Traffic was at a standstill. What did we do? We walked home! It took us 2-1/2 hours to get from Union Station to Virginia, at which time we took a pizza break and then were able to catch a bus the rest of the way home.

And today, we have to think about how we can prepare the boat for Irene, a category 4 hurricane expected to hit the area this Saturday.

Titanic Memorial

My favorite day of the long weekend was Monday. Eric and I woke early, as we often do, and after a breakfast of cheese, bread, and fruit, took a stroll down to the Titanic Memorial. I'd discovered this site several years ago when I worked in the area and wanted to see it again. The 13-foot high granite statue is positioned along the waterfront and is surrounded by shady trees and old stone benches. Thank you, Eric, for indulging me. xxoo.

Maine Avenue Fish Market

Right next to the Capital Yacht Club is the famous Maine Avenue Fish Market, in operation since 1805. It's a busy smelly place and throngs of people stand up and eat generous portions of food and then leave piles of garbage behind them. Eric and I bought our dinner there Sunday night but took it back to the Yacht Club for a more civilized sit-down meal in air conditioning.

I'm glad to have gone to the Wharf, but it brings back memories of the one and only time I was on jury duty. This was a case where two of the workers had an altercation after putting in 12 or more hours a day for six days straight. Tempers flared, threats were made, and one of the two men - the one on trial - charged at the other with a gaff in hand and hit him on the head. While we wanted to find extenuating circumstances, there were none and the man was ultimately found guilty.

(A better place to eat if you are in the area is Jenny's Asian Fusion directly above the Capital Yacht Club. The food is fresh, light, and very satisfying.)

Capital Yacht Club

After a trip to the public library and a few shopping-related errands, Eric and I raised anchor on Saturday morning and motored on down to the Capital Yacht Club near the 14th Street Bridge in Washington, DC.

This is a noisy spot with an airport nearby, road traffic and trains overhead, low-flying helicopters, and tour boats turning around right next to us but it's a good change of pace and quite convenient to the Metro.

For a reasonable $15 a night, we can anchor out and dinghy in to the air-conditioned Club House that offers bar service in the evening, showers (including hair dryers and an iron), laundry facilities, and Internet access. The best part, however, is the crowd ... real transients who are living the life and always willing to chat. This weekend we met Martin from Switzerland who had arrived moments earlier and was looking for a place to take English classes. We went aboard a beautiful custom-built Pacific Seacraft and spent a few hours talking to a man from Texas, and Eric met a woman who has the ability to make new sun covers for us. That should help a little with the DC heat that has already started to descend down upon us.

Orange Line: Foggy Bottom (Kennedy Center)

A week or so ago, while on Florida furlough, I attended the symphony with my mom and dad. It wasn't until today that I realized it would make a good "orange line" post. All you have to do is take the orange line to Foggy Bottom and then catch the free shuttle bus to the Kennedy Center. This pic was taken before the performance began, even before the lights went down, but I was chastised for having a camera and had to pocket my iPhone. All in all, it was a very lovely evening.

***

The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts

2700 F Street, NW

Washington, DC 20566

Orange Line: Smithsonian (Holocaust Museum)

Today Eric, his daughter, and I went to the Holocaust Museum. It's been open for a while but I have neglected going, in part because I was afraid it would be too disturbing. While there are moments when you hold your breath inside one of the rail cars, smelling the cedar, and not being able to comprehend what it must have been like standing there with a group of people on your way to a concentration camp, overall the exhibit was a celebration of those people who lived and suffered, some surviving and others not.

There is a three-story enclave filled with photographs of people in happier moments and a lower wall dedicated to non-Jews who risked their lives to help others emigrate or hide during the war. When you first enter the museum you are given an Identification Card, a small booklet with the story of a real person who lived during the Holocaust. Each card is different and the transaction immediately makes the visit more personal. Here is Sophie's story:

Name: Sophie Weisz

Date of Birth: February 23, 1927

Place of Birth: Valea-lui-Minhai, Romania

Sophie was born to a prosperous Jewish family in a village near the Hungarian border known for its winemaking and carriage wheel industries. The village had many Jewish merchants. Her father owned a lumber yard. Sophie loved to dance in the large living room of their home as her older sister, Agnes, played the piano.

1933-39: My father believed in a Jewish homeland and sent money to Palestine to plant trees and establish settlements there. When I was 10, I was sent to a school in nearby Ordea because our village had only elementary schools. I missed my family, but studied hard, and swam and ice skated for fun. Though we heard about the roundups of Jews after the Germans invaded Poland in 1939, we felt safe in Romania.

1940-44: Hungary annexed our region in 1940; by mid-1941 they'd joined the German forces. We were forced into the Ordea ghetto in May 1944, and then deported to Auschwitz. In August my mother, sister, and I were moved hundreds of miles north to Stuffhof on the Baltic coast for forced labor. The prisoners were asked to entertain the German soldiers at Christmas; I danced to the music of the ballet Coppelia in a costume fashioned from guaze and paper. I earned extra food for this, and shared it with my sister Agnes.

Sophie and her sister escaped while on a forced march in February 1945. Her mother and father perished in the camps. In February 1949 Sophie emigrated to the United States.

***

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

100 Raoul Wallenberg Place, SW

Washington, DC 20024

Within walking distance of the orange line's Smithsonian stop. For more stories, click on the personal histories link above.

Layers

Adams Morgan is known best for its wild and crazy weekend crowd, the mass of people who descend upon the multiple bars and party until the wee hours of the morn at which time they fan out into the streets, yelling, laughing, sometimes fighting, and most responsibly calling taxi cabs to take them home. But they are just visitors and I was happy to see them go.

Adams Morgan also has a strong Latino component that can give a girl like me a flash back to her earlier days living as an Army brat in the Dominican Republic, but that's mostly when you cross over 18th Street and the vibe isn't really authentic until you go up higher to Columbia Heights and even now that neighborhood has gone through a lot of change.

Adams Morgan can be called a place of politicians, most famously Gary Condit who was accused of murdering Chandra Levy in 2001, and Jim Graham who lives in the neighborhood and is known for his presence everywhere, a quick responder, always on the spot.

On the other end of the social spectrum Adams Morgan had its share of homeless and the not quite right, and my special group of single moms who had been there years earlier when the neighborhood had an inner city appeal.

The shop keepers were what gave Adams Morgan its day-to-day personality. Fenty's dad is still there taking care of Fleet Feet but Miss Pixie is gone and sells her second-hand furniture over on 14th Street. When Sid (pictured here) died, the neighborhood mourned his death with flowers and candles and most still miss the big art deco sign that marked his New York-style deli. In acknowledgment of Comet's closure in 2005, the Washington Post ran this article and it does a good job describing the slow gentrification that is taking over Adams Morgan.

I drove down Calvert Street recently, remembering which house had drunk Santa falling off the stair rails every Christmas and which house I liked best on my daily walk home. I felt a sad longing for my old neighborhood's energy and diversity but people change like neighborhoods do and it was time to move on.

Photo source.

Community

It didn't happen right away. I moved into Adams Morgan in October 2002 when the Sniper was terrorizing Washington, DC and surrounding areas. I had friends and family within driving distance but no one in the neighborhood. I was a single girl, living alone, completely isolated, and afraid to go outside.

Five years later on October 1, 2007 a fire broke out in one of the condominiums located an alley and a street away from me. I could see the fire from my kitchen window. It blazed for eight hours and the building was destroyed. Remarkably, no one died and all but one of the pets were saved.

The Avalon started burning in the middle of the night and by 4 a.m. countless people were outdoors, including me. I called my friend Nancy who lived one building down and she was fine; in fact, she was on site shooting photographs and later wrote an excellent article for the InTowner (found here).

While I didn't know anyone first hand who was victim to the fire, my niece went to school in the neighborhood and her little friend had lost everything but most of all missed her Barbies. My group of girl friends took up a collection and gave her family a $75 gift card, with the hope that the money would be spent on dolls first and more practical items second. After five years, I felt a strong sense of community in Adams Morgan, something you don't get as easily out here in the suburbs. It was as if the fire had happened to all of us. In the weeks following, there were countless fundraisers for the affected families and the building has since been renovated. You wouldn't know when you walk by 2627 Adams Mill Road that a fire had made a shell of the building. It's just there in the collective memory of the neighborhood.

Year of Giving

For further hometown insight, take a look at this amazing Web site. A local man named Reed has made a personal commitment to give away $10 every day for a full year.

This photo is of Cleo from day 41. The 50-year old trumpet player can be found at the Gallery Place/Chinatown metro station and is sometimes working the Adams Morgan area, a place he calls "wild and crazy."

Reed interviews each recipient, posting their personal stories online, and then asks what they plan to do with the money. Often times, his gift starts a chain reaction of giving. See the Lend a Hand section for more information about sharing.

Adams Morgan

This is a great photo of 18th Street in Adams Morgan.

Tryst is a primarily a coffee house during the day where people are comfortable sitting around on old couches reading newspapers or books and working on their lap tops. When I lived across the street, I would stop in at least once a week.

Madam's Organ, to the left, is completely different. It's dark, saloon-like, and full of stuffed wild animals. A taxidermist's dream. I went to a fundraiser there. The woman who was holding the event has a farm out in Maryland and shelters animals who have been abandoned or abused. What a strange place to invite those who support her cause! (Learn more about the Star Gazing Farm here.)

This pic was taken by Luis Gomez who posts one photograph a day from Washington, DC. So many tourists come to visit our nation's capital each year and never really see the city. Take a look at his blog for a better idea of what we have to offer.

Christmas in DC

We drove around town early this morning and passed out vodka and newports to the homeless. Just like Eric says, we ain't trying to save anyone; we just want to make a few guys feel a little bit better on Christmas Day. This is in Dupont Circle (technically not Adams Morgan as the tag suggests, but close enough). We also went to the New York Ave Shelter and over to Franklin Square. Happy Christmas from us to you!

Orange Line: Farragut West (Corcoran College of Art + Design)

posting this photo early in the hopes I can get over the hair and not be all distracted tonight when I listen to Stanley Hainsworth speak at the Corcoran.

... A friend of mine recently asked me if I prefer IFC film or Hollywood movies. My response, which unfortunately bordered on the dissertation length, said the following:

"Hollywood movies are just too formulaic, and exist just to feed the big hollywood machine ... they have to have the big set, the big costumes, the extra-special effects so everyone gets paid ... the music rises just at the right moment so everyone feels what they are supposed to feel and then they push us all out into the street and no one really thinks about what they were just told."

Insert the word SOLD for told and you have my summary of tonight's lecture. Stanley Hainsworth is the equivalent of Hollywood in the design world. Will it affect my emotional connection with Starbucks? Not one bit. What do I take back to the office tomorrow? I need to figure out this step in the process called a brief.

***

Corcoran College of Art + Design

500 Seventeenth Street, NW

Washington, DC 20006

Within walking distance of the orange line's Farragut West stop.

Me

I have an orange armoire, a purple chair, and I used to have a white couch. It was a shabby chic style with a slipcover, in theory a good idea until you try and stretch that thing back into place after washing it.

When I moved to Adams Morgan, it became a nuisance. There's so much city dust and activity going on and it's necessary to sweep and mop and dust every single day. Even then you can't stay on top of it.

My two cats had started to use the couch as a scratching post and I didn't have the power to stop them. One day, I'd had enough. There was a "give away" spot in the basement and I resolved to leave it there for whomever wanted it. I tipped the couch up and pushed it out my apartment door. It was heavy. There was a metal frame inside. I pushed it down the hall and got as far as the elevator when I realized I didn't have the physical capacity to get it inside. And I didn't want to push it back into my apartment. I stood there. What to do? Who to call? The elevator suddenly opened and a young guy stepped out. Hey, do you want a couch? I joked.

Yes, actually. We pushed the couch two doors down. The burden was gone. Sometimes things just fall into place.

I woke up in the middle of the night and finally cried for all of us.

18th and Columbia

This is the intersection known as the "heart" of Adams Morgan.

To the left stands my old apartment building, the Melwood, and to the right, the SunTrust square. On Saturday mornings, local vendors set up and sell flowers and vegetables for several hours. Some of the weekend shoppers may have been there in August 1967 when the Ambassador Theatre stood on the same spot and Jimi Hendrix played much to the distress of frightened neighbors and merchants. The psychedelic stage closed down within six months.

And years before that, on January 28, 1922, the Knickerbocker Theatre collapsed under the weight of 28 inches of snow killing many but leaving to history stories of rescue and heroism.

And today, a bank, but tomorrow, maybe something different.

pic by Nancy.

42 Bus: Dupont Circle

The 42 bus starts at Metro Center, goes up 17th street, over to Connecticut, and then through Adams Morgan out to Mount Pleasant. It comes every 10 minutes, all day long. This photo was taken by Nancy at one of the Dupont Circle stops. The absence of color other than a few shots of red or pink makes it look intentionally colourized. (I get a lot of hits for the 42 bus so am adding here a link to the schedule and route map.)

42 Bus: Columbia Rd and Ontario

The Robert Frank exhibit inspired Nancy to start shooting for herself again. This photo is of people waiting for the 42 bus in Adams Morgan.

The pic started a conversation between us about how I find RF's images a little uncomfortable and sad while her's are of a similar subject matter but show a warmer humanity (although a little cold in this case).

Nancy's response is as follows: I think though in a way he's right about the subjects he photographed because he was an immigrant. I think his is the immigrant view which is really where we all come from. We are unfortunately detached from our history. Even though we 'do' alot of things other countries envy, there is an underlying sense of sadness here because we don't have our roots. Despite this, I think Americans are the most generous and caring people around who also value the significance of our short human life. She calls this photo "Bus Stop Prayer."

Orange Line: Smithsonian (National Gallery of Art)

I've done a lot of off-line whining lately about how bored I am out in the suburbs and finally decided today to "pick myself up" and do something about it. In addition to my earlier book challenge, I'm going to blog about the orange line and what this easy-to-access mode of transportation has to offer me (and perhaps you). This afternoon, I'm meeting a friend at the National Gallery of Art to take in a series of Robert Frank photos.

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National Gallery of Art

4th and Constitution Avenue, NW

Washington DC 20565

Within easy walking distance of the orange line's Smithsonian stop. For exhibition information, go here and to buy the companion book, go here.

Post-gallery note: The National Mall doesn't have one spec of grass or gravel left! I guess that's what the feet of two million people will do to a place!

Searching for ... Books

Today I'm going to take a big stack of books to Second Story Books for trade value. Located within walking distance of the Dupont Circle Metro Station at 2000 P Street, they offer a good selection of used books of all kinds.

If you don't find what you want, and can't wait, Kramerbooks, also within walking distance at 1517 Connecticut Ave, may be able to help you. Open all night on the weekend, they also provide indoor and outdoor cafe seating with real food not just coffee drinks. Take a look at their online menu. (Try not to look at their Web design, though.)

Politics & Prose, not as easy to get to, but worth the trip, is another option for books in the Washington, DC area. Further up the red line, or on the L4 bus route, this bookstore at 5015 Connecticut Ave, frequently hosts well-known author events.

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