• Mary Church Terrell
     
     
    Ending segregation in Washington restaurants hinged on activism and the Supreme Court's interpretation of DC laws which had been literally lost.
  • The Manila House
    A Filipino Enclave
     
     
    How a Filipino boarding house in the 1930s grew to become a literary landmark.
  • Red Cross poster
    World War I
     
     
    It was common for D.C.'s high society couples to honeymoon in Europe, but not like Hester and Edward Pickman who spent their first weeks as newlyweds volunteering for the Red Cross during WWI.
  • Ford's Theatre sign. Photo credit: Flick user @mr_t_in_dc Licensed via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic)
    A Long Time Coming
     
     
    Following Lincoln's assassination, Ford's Theatre ceased to be an entertainment venue for over 100 years, but the curtain went back up in 1968.
  • Collapsed Knickerbocker Theater (Source: Wikimedia Commons)
    The Knickerbocker Storm
     
     
    When heavy snow caused an Adams Morgan theater's roof to collapse on January 28, 1922, 98 moviegoers were killed in one of the District's worst disasters ever.

What’s in a Name? Anacostia

East & west branch below Washington

How did the historic D.C. neighborhood of Anacostia get its name? The short answer is, of course, its proximity to the Anacostia River; but the river has its own history that’s worth unpacking. Like the Potomac, Anacostia’s name can be traced back to the area’s Indigenous population – in this case, the Nacotchtank of the Algonquian stock.

View of the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial from the White House, covered in snow

The "White Christmas" of 1962

If a white Christmas is what you want, D.C. might not be the best place for you. The area has only seen a handful of snowy holidays. But the most impressive came in 1962, when a record-setting 5 inches fell on December 25. To date, it's still the most snowfall recorded on Christmas Day in Washington.

A Christmas Benefit at the Height of an Epidemic

The Whitman-Walker Clinic's Original Location. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

In December of 1986, parents were rushing to the stores to snatch a Cabbage Patch Kid, G.I. Joe, or Teddy Ruxpin off the shelf before they were all gone. That same month, the generosity of a local benefactor was a touching reminder of what the holiday season is really about. On December 21, 1986, Robert Alfandre welcomed 30 people infected with AIDS into his home in northwest Washington for a Christmas party.

Remembering Kit Kamien

Kit Kamien at the recording studio (Source: Kit Kamien and the Backroom Players)

“I personally want to try and change the stereotype of what somebody in a wheelchair is like… I want to be judged not on my disabilities but on my abilities. I think people get frightened by the wheelchair… It’s a powerful visual symbol, but it’s not a symbol of defeat. It’s a tool I use to help me accomplish my goals. Just by climbing into the wheelchair, I don’t have to surrender my sexuality, my sensuality, my good sense of humor, or anything," said Kit Kamien, a Bethesda musician who was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the age of 26, to The Washington Post in 1987.

View of the Smithsonian Castle building

What's in a Name? The Smithsonian

He never traveled to the United States or took an interest in our politics. He wasn’t known for any philanthropic efforts. Though intellectually curious, he didn’t make any groundbreaking or well-known scientific discoveries—and didn’t patronize people who did. Yet, surprisingly, he left his estate to the United States, asking that we use it to promote scientific research and education. Of all people, how did an English scientist's name come to be such a staple of Washington culture?

Intent to Kill: A Real-Life Noir

Collage of Bricker shooting headlines (Source: created by Charlotte Muth)

While sifting through the virtual archives of some local publications, I came across an incident from 1947 that stood apart. Unlike most news, the event read like a Film Noir. This real-life tale was juicy enough to make headlines for days, suspenseful enough to make me wonder about motives, and hard-boiled enough to speak volumes to the disenchantment of the people involved. So, this article will look a little different from what we usually do at Boundary Stones. Rather than presenting the facts in a linear, scholarly manner, we have decided that this story shines best as a piece of narrative nonfiction. While every sentence is grounded in research, we held off on footnotes to let the story breathe, and took a few creative liberties to bring the characters to life. For variety, my dear reader, is the spice of life…

A contemporary engraving of the Garfield assassination (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

The Witnesses

What do a five-year-old boy, a woman working at a train station and an African American newspaperman have in common? Samuel J. Seymour, Sarah V. E. White and Samuel H. Hatton were little-known Washingtonian witnesses to some of the most influential murders in history: those of U.S. Presidents.

The Centuries-Long Saga of the ‘Oyster Wars’

An Oyster War battle in 1884

The battle lasted about half an hour, and when the smoke cleared, Captain Frank Whitehurst lay dead in a pool of his own blood on the deck of the Albert Nickel, a Baltimore oyster schooner. While Whitehurst met a fate avoided by most, the so called “Oyster Wars” had been brewing for more than 100 years prior to that fateful night on the Severn River.

For nearly two centuries, Maryland and Virginia were engaged in conflict over one of the region’s valuable resources — oysters. Full of inconsistent enforcement and rampant law-breaking, it took the president’s signature to end the Oyster Wars.

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