Search

Recently, Washington’s Black community has – rightfully – pushed for more memorials and markers honoring Black leaders and the city's rich African American heritage. While we wait for our city’s landscape to reflect more of its history, we highlight some existing sites that deserve more attention.

In the historic society of Washington, there has always been a woman at the top. Sometimes she rules with an iron fist, sometimes it’s with charm, but she does rule. And the very first of these ladies was Marcia Van Ness.

When the stresses of life in Washington became too much, John Quincy Adams calmed his nerves by taking early-morning swims in the Potomac River. In a move that might be considered questionable by today’s standards, he especially liked to soak in the brisk, cold water wearing nothing but his own skin.

Bethesda has become one of Washington’s busiest, most populated suburban communities. It’s hard to believe that, only 150 years ago, it was a little roadside stop haphazardly named after its general store!

Sometimes, the most memorable thing someone can do is die. William Henry Harrison, the ninth president of the United States was the first U.S. president to die in office, and, having died only a month in, that's about all he did in office. Harrison's other claim to fame, his lengthy inauguration speech, is also what killed him.

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.

As the nation's capital, Washington has a long and illustrious history of hosting important guests, but in 1870 the city's fashionable set pulled out all the stops for the seventh child of Queen Victoria, His Royal Highness Arthur William Patrick Albrecht.

If you were to delve into the history of the Girl Scouts of the Nation’s Capital (GSNC), most of what you would find relates to troops’ longstanding history of service.

When Japanese immigrant Kojiro Inoue first moved to the Washington area in 1971, D.C. had some Japanese restaurants but couldn’t boast of any that offered sushi. It was for good reason—hardly anyone seemed interested in the idea of eating raw fish. “Sushi wasn’t popular,” explained Inoue to The Washington Post years later.

In the fall of 1965, D.C. Transit announced plans to raise bus fares and one man wasn’t having it. Marion Barry would go on to become mayor of D.C., and serve four terms but he wasn’t mayor yet. He was a relatively new resident in D.C., having moved here to open up a local chapter of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).