Katherine Brodt

There’s a common saying (and belief) that Washington, D.C. was built on a swamp. While that’s not actually the case, it is true that the District’s rivers and tributaries—and the surrounding marshland—have caused some problems in the past. In the nineteenth century, the low-lying area around the National Mall and Tidal Basin was the perfect breeding ground for one of the largest public health concerns at the time: mosquitoes. One enterprising doctor had a very inventive solution.

During the Great Depression, the Federal Writers Project commissioned several initiatives designed to aid thousands of struggling American writers and journalists. But perhaps their most interesting project is also one of their most important: a collection of oral histories known as the “Slave Narratives Project.” And within that collection, one narrative in particular stands out: the story of Rezin Williams.

Washington based artist Inez M. Demonet specialized in etchings and watercolors of District landmarks and people, but she spent most of her time in an office at the National Institute of Health, where she worked as a medical illustrator. Her pioneering work during World War I helped educate doctors and public health professionals, and even helped repair the lives of soldiers returning from World War I. It was not a job for the faint of heart.

In the U.S., we’re used to seeing recycled British names. It often feels a little anticlimactic to learn that a British colonist simply lifted the name of their hometown—Kensington, Cambridge, Salisbury, Westminster, Essex, Arlington, the list goes on—and slapped it onto whatever colony, town, or road they wanted to claim. However, the state of Maryland may be able to claim a rare distinction: lending its name to a location in Great Britain, not vice versa.

Those who think that the “Exorcist stairs” are the spookiest landmark in Georgetown clearly haven’t heard of the Laurie family. In the nineteenth century, in a townhouse where 3327 N Street NW stands today, two women known as “the Witches of Georgetown” were talking to ghosts and making pianos levitate. Or, at least, that’s what legend tells us.

Even though most Washingtonians know that there is a statue atop the U.S. Capitol dome, many don’t actually know what it’s a statue of. Can you blame us? It’s hard to get a good look at it. Let's take  a closer look!

As Washingtonians and Marylanders began to recover from the hardships of the Great Depression, movies and local theater were a great way to find some escape. In the late 1930s, outdoor theaters were beginning to spring up on the outskirts of the District, where they were especially popular in the summertime. Most of the new playhouses, though, were in Northern Virginia. Maryland lacked options... until organizers of a new theater project in Olney called in a favor from Ethel Barrymore.

Kensington, Maryland boasts the second-oldest continuously operational railroad station in the country, serving D.C. commuters since 1891. In 1894, as the area started to grow as a commuter suburb, "Knowles Station" was set to be officially incorporated as a town in Maryland... until a man named Brainard Warner pushed back.

How did Silver Spring, Maryland land one of the prettiest, most mystical-sounding names in the Washington, D.C. area? Was there really a magical silver spring that once flowed through the area? Is it as pretty and idyllic as it sounds? Actually, that's exactly where the name comes from: a "silver spring."

The country’s first modern art museum was established 100 years ago in a Dupont Circle townhouse. And since the Phillips Collection celebrated its centenary last year, it’s a great time to remind Washingtonians that their city has a rich art history—largely exemplified by the story of this museum.