tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-358877892024-02-07T20:18:10.652-05:00Washington D.C. My HometownNative lives and memories in Washington, D.C. from one turn of the century to the nextCokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-47947609804034508582023-01-23T09:29:00.009-05:002023-06-20T08:31:14.420-04:00How Potomac Heights Became a Community<p><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">By serendipity, my</span></span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"> dive into the history of the houses on my block coincided with a volunteer job organizing the archives of the Palisades Community Church. Here I unexpectedly found a treasure trove of photos and stories of many of our neighborhood's original inhabitants, and I soon realized this was not an ordinary church.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXx604PQDP6AShIvF0nnR0sOqK29fI3D4njjK4UVVwLgszM1g9JNFKBT-PnLgaqWAZPzYHAd_vuu5YkbAONPl3URkNQ1DR7JGCSpgCRfP6ilSeuSo8339EOjNKBwwo-6yEt_vlBhkLVKp5GKU6nLE9J02apqdBgoQGYVZs396Or52nZXBFCU/s3025/IMG_7937.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2332" data-original-width="3025" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXx604PQDP6AShIvF0nnR0sOqK29fI3D4njjK4UVVwLgszM1g9JNFKBT-PnLgaqWAZPzYHAd_vuu5YkbAONPl3URkNQ1DR7JGCSpgCRfP6ilSeuSo8339EOjNKBwwo-6yEt_vlBhkLVKp5GKU6nLE9J02apqdBgoQGYVZs396Or52nZXBFCU/w436-h336/IMG_7937.jpeg" width="436" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jo-Ann Monez with big bow once lived at 5400 Cathedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span><p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat;">Legend has it that the idea of the church first started during a tennis game on a balmy evening in the summer of 1922. This was when our section of the neighborhood was called Potomac Heights. Cathedral Avenue, which predated the National Cathedral, still went by the name Jewett Street and was an unpaved little road which ran down hill towards the river. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">That summer, Olive and Robert Mancill were playing doubles with Mr and Mrs. Clyde Moore when the topic came up of how to get the neighborhood children to attend Sunday school. The Mancills were Baptists, and the Moores leaned Methodist. Both had made offers to haul their neighbors' offspring to their respective churches in Georgetown, but though the parents seemed willing, the reply always seemed to be "maybe next Sunday."</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">Perhaps they could manage a Bible school of their own? </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">Both couples reached out to neighbors and asked if they wanted their children to attend a local Sunday school. The answer was a resounding "yes." They also discovered that many young families were feeling isolated and disconnected in this fledgling community of newly built homes.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI3HlKXtC1C8LKkvrZbojaTlQtZDLzvchedpy4PI4CYBVeBfBKAlmjN7IK0IeqUCnP0WdKk29E7qep4uiSAJpSo4AA0VTh2Wne3LUdzh5bAaMd5yZwKXPhJYo8y80sdpl8BaOm41Ivna_ltfIExmcmaMkXq7jx0dOkE0QF7HF-G7ISYhIQyA/s1680/1913%20pot%20hts%202.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="1680" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI3HlKXtC1C8LKkvrZbojaTlQtZDLzvchedpy4PI4CYBVeBfBKAlmjN7IK0IeqUCnP0WdKk29E7qep4uiSAJpSo4AA0VTh2Wne3LUdzh5bAaMd5yZwKXPhJYo8y80sdpl8BaOm41Ivna_ltfIExmcmaMkXq7jx0dOkE0QF7HF-G7ISYhIQyA/w614-h298/1913%20pot%20hts%202.png" width="614" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">newspaper ad from 1913</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">On December 5, 1922, twenty eight interested people gathered at the large Mancill home at 5410 Macomb Street. A history of the community church movement was read out loud, and people learned that many rural communities had put denominations aside in order to pool their resources. </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">In the early 1920s, our neighborhood still had working farms. The only churches here were Our Lady of Victory and a small outpost of St Albans. Word spread, and the group met every weekend in January. They decided to call their enterprise the </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"> </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">“Potomac Heights Bible School.”</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Meanwhile, a pair of brothers, Earl and Carey Rector were erecting store fronts on MacArthur Boulevard. Earl planned to open a general at 5441 MacArthur Boulevard, but he agreed to temporarily rent the empty space for $50 a month to the Bible school. </span>Determined to make the space work, the group found benches, borrowed hymn books, and bought a small stove. Forty-three people met on a Sunday morning, January 7th, 1923.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">By March 5th the congregation had enthusiastically raised enough money for a down payment of $100 on a $1200 vacant lot just behind the store, where the driveway of the current church is now. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">It was going to be a busy year.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">On March 21, another neighbor, Mae Topping, hosted a luncheon at her home at 5018 MacArthur. Here, energetic ladies of the church met to brainstorm about fundraising. They decided to call themselves the "New Idea Society." </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"> By the third meeting, the club had collected $17, and everyone voted to spend it all on a set of dishes and a tub for washing up . They held luncheons as fundraisers, and catered events at other churches. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">Three months later the New Idea Society had bought 516 pieces of china. Bake sales, church suppers, hat parties, and many other events would rake in enough money over the years to pay the note on the property and raise new buildings. </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">In November 1923, the first New Idea Society bazaar raised $500, the equivalent of about $8,000 today. These women nailed fundraising. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxvWcSqh7-oMsqAJC4EZsLjS_kz7mtbOhwTJoRZzy_YrQGJ5WJOdmz8gxO3e7mYyjLMaNTd-QR-Dk59ZoN5bzF2BvL7YlRKmCELqolyHu8lpBGfLRdLxEhvGNhs5hjsFEK_pyBXECdR11_VoqFwQadWOueMHV9MbGHKcwiE8nQd0J8yTh5Ro/s5014/Hat%20Party%20No%20date%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3202" data-original-width="5014" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxvWcSqh7-oMsqAJC4EZsLjS_kz7mtbOhwTJoRZzy_YrQGJ5WJOdmz8gxO3e7mYyjLMaNTd-QR-Dk59ZoN5bzF2BvL7YlRKmCELqolyHu8lpBGfLRdLxEhvGNhs5hjsFEK_pyBXECdR11_VoqFwQadWOueMHV9MbGHKcwiE8nQd0J8yTh5Ro/w494-h316/Hat%20Party%20No%20date%202.jpeg" width="494" /></a></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">The Bible School had to vacate the Rector’s store in May of 1923. Sunday school classes were then held all over the Mancill home including on the porches and in the kitchen. Their congregation was already taking off. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">In July that same summer, the school met on Edward and Margaret Doig’s lawn The Doigs lived at 5315 Cathedral on the corner of Sherier Place. Here they heard a lecture about community churches, and the possibility of their Bible school becoming a church slipped into place.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u9QZL0uLm7yNfosf4Y31KdM0hpcpnzA_n21RKbhXEF9pPUuB2iFskE6mJrLLYA2Lr2-R1ssTssb1GOpxk3j8IRQZjNu9RwXsyLEpsvROW24S2yn5gAT8hXR0oro27TerhJwsW8glvMoKGtxkiG0s6a7OsiT7u2nt_FUJL9JGaXmbFM58K3o/s2220/The%20Doigs%201930%20@%205315%20CAthedral.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2220" data-original-width="1175" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u9QZL0uLm7yNfosf4Y31KdM0hpcpnzA_n21RKbhXEF9pPUuB2iFskE6mJrLLYA2Lr2-R1ssTssb1GOpxk3j8IRQZjNu9RwXsyLEpsvROW24S2yn5gAT8hXR0oro27TerhJwsW8glvMoKGtxkiG0s6a7OsiT7u2nt_FUJL9JGaXmbFM58K3o/w255-h483/The%20Doigs%201930%20@%205315%20CAthedral.jpeg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doigs in 1930</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">Work progressed on a frame structure on Cathedral Avenue throughout the summer.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">When the project ran out of money, neighbors picked up hammers and pitched in on weekends. The congregation was able to move into their new home in September of 1923. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1-hSGtZ6EesoZBONvbHPHXFs6tNQy4fpHLUVH0Ty-2pTjUuXfCq2mFUpSTQfIYZc-REc9D2Af2GVYH4xTXg4D569pjHUn9m0DBgDqt7QN2aPqoovAWNk9Ns_NmQb-MMkFIciEHsuhMvX5gsOAV78Jo8heXaWyk4PB8Gab1k-d7FpxazRjDA/s11800/Ptomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%201924.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6864" data-original-width="11800" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1-hSGtZ6EesoZBONvbHPHXFs6tNQy4fpHLUVH0Ty-2pTjUuXfCq2mFUpSTQfIYZc-REc9D2Af2GVYH4xTXg4D569pjHUn9m0DBgDqt7QN2aPqoovAWNk9Ns_NmQb-MMkFIciEHsuhMvX5gsOAV78Jo8heXaWyk4PB8Gab1k-d7FpxazRjDA/w531-h309/Ptomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%201924.jpeg" width="531" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">On March 19, 1924, the Potomac Heights Community Church formally adopted its name and constitution with eleven Christian denominations under one roof. The inclusiveness of their doctrine was key in bringing this community together.</span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The first community church in Washington DC had become official. Two years later, the congregation had swelled.</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2024" data-original-width="3200" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcQ5LewM8ikYN9-_IUvMB966mNydTQaPluakeYFAZ-VEt4KLaTni3-6ROvJ4zUtlBhgSM5p6XBM7QBAqER7AeOIxCGEna8jqN9I0pYmYDInXay7QrMWxImMmkDQdzRHz_sDAQdJtwGpXXjRfLJdV6NFqST3D2c4GANxVF3yjb-dzhbUZUzPM/w606-h383/1925.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="606" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Partial Shot of Congregation, Cathedral Ave 1925</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcQ5LewM8ikYN9-_IUvMB966mNydTQaPluakeYFAZ-VEt4KLaTni3-6ROvJ4zUtlBhgSM5p6XBM7QBAqER7AeOIxCGEna8jqN9I0pYmYDInXay7QrMWxImMmkDQdzRHz_sDAQdJtwGpXXjRfLJdV6NFqST3D2c4GANxVF3yjb-dzhbUZUzPM/s3200/1925.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; text-align: left;">In the summer of 1928, the church decided to buy the bungalow at 5200 Cathedral, on </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; text-align: left;">the corner of Cathedral and Hawthorne where the 1950s educational building is now. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; text-align: left;">It was a stretch financially, but with this purchase the church now occupied a full block. That same year sidewalks were added on both sides of the street. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1756" data-original-width="3657" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBumixKEH8nSeNKJtD-ABa3uZHpkkIHHLx3wenWsIhkquC13Uzvv5I5C9cTf7jtkE0E2TbClH5ZVh17eUnnpaGjf540oRRmhDvcKgRdX1CAHCRDtzM75naEIRJcN8Ey1A9Sus1ekldOio7peZ6A-3GzAnPp7Q93TcFNsnwR2Vrp8d1JqF3Rmg/w653-h314/IMG_7942.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="653" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Congregation in front of bungalow 1939</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBumixKEH8nSeNKJtD-ABa3uZHpkkIHHLx3wenWsIhkquC13Uzvv5I5C9cTf7jtkE0E2TbClH5ZVh17eUnnpaGjf540oRRmhDvcKgRdX1CAHCRDtzM75naEIRJcN8Ey1A9Sus1ekldOio7peZ6A-3GzAnPp7Q93TcFNsnwR2Vrp8d1JqF3Rmg/s3657/IMG_7942.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">By 1929, another small building was added, and the roof was raised to add five additional classrooms due to the overwhelming number of children in the congregation. The construction was done by church members. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiafsvJ-MKQh4tEJPPWpU5hlRoS2jRK0eQg3fn2pbVpfhYTw1mnIpj7GJkcPgL9ZX4ABFHQGfba4Jbrz4wF_Ry5jk-LJCE6yU-vxiAOmM4PKA_wIaW8D0nGq6Tr82DeEZMjSBYxWUy66BaOSlbkVC7XeVpD-B-ITmy2ewfFUUHOqqm-OVHF8A/s4856/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%201%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3440" data-original-width="4856" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiafsvJ-MKQh4tEJPPWpU5hlRoS2jRK0eQg3fn2pbVpfhYTw1mnIpj7GJkcPgL9ZX4ABFHQGfba4Jbrz4wF_Ry5jk-LJCE6yU-vxiAOmM4PKA_wIaW8D0nGq6Tr82DeEZMjSBYxWUy66BaOSlbkVC7XeVpD-B-ITmy2ewfFUUHOqqm-OVHF8A/w424-h300/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%201%202.jpeg" width="424" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br />
</span><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">The tot count reached 220 in 1931 and made up 18 Sunday school classes. That same year, the congregation agreed that space was a passing issue. The church needed a bigger boat.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9r1fMDPomCRolwwLVzg0s3F48cMbbjXS6MW00-5TKLwz4YePBq6ey58w_Od0X0St7jOMscgrRcQ0wvzFfdFWGoXUTwWp-hBXBh_nuj7j9HEbBLMCSXqGual9AA2MYs7Qs5RwfBeH1IsSdkxs1BVk-EMR7gnM8LKv6Sf-77HnUdBgL4K8mb7c/s3093/IMG_8004.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="3093" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9r1fMDPomCRolwwLVzg0s3F48cMbbjXS6MW00-5TKLwz4YePBq6ey58w_Od0X0St7jOMscgrRcQ0wvzFfdFWGoXUTwWp-hBXBh_nuj7j9HEbBLMCSXqGual9AA2MYs7Qs5RwfBeH1IsSdkxs1BVk-EMR7gnM8LKv6Sf-77HnUdBgL4K8mb7c/w774-h295/IMG_8004.jpeg" width="774" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The ground was broken for the current sanctuary on Sunday June 12, 1938, and the building was ready</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> for business on January 22, 1939. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The congregation numbered about 260 at this time with an additional 275 children attending services.</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYshTbmwLCJM0tKmJpoRECPqdZNI_BF5407IbFWjJB8m9LG4lZIlCnJPc0WDPe0MYLnEOuWs1mx95w0fJjnRigagJBLR3BJyKXIMOyL06YzQkiRkr9mm8mM3nz-AJlMo_Eu7jRp78OIKU-xEvxpIPagD56RNbyAqtnDjqu_GqBYOs5q9v78Y8/s5982/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5982" data-original-width="5779" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYshTbmwLCJM0tKmJpoRECPqdZNI_BF5407IbFWjJB8m9LG4lZIlCnJPc0WDPe0MYLnEOuWs1mx95w0fJjnRigagJBLR3BJyKXIMOyL06YzQkiRkr9mm8mM3nz-AJlMo_Eu7jRp78OIKU-xEvxpIPagD56RNbyAqtnDjqu_GqBYOs5q9v78Y8/w402-h416/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20.jpeg" width="402" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">In 1950 the DC government changed the name of our neighborhood to Palisades.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The church followed suit on January 13, 1953 and kept growing. An educational building was </span>planned, but the next event was completely unforeseen. At 3:46 am Sunday March 3, 1957, police on a routine patrol discovered a fire which had started in the church office and spread quickly. The original wood frame building was badly damaged, but parishioners showed up at 8 am that same morning and gamely cleaned up the sanctuary in time to hold services. Their plans for a new building became even more of a priority.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaslASigetKnkLXBhUkmlKmzaFGiKjATLUGNlYUGO9UUN5QcQ0Qsj0SL4NKAcEB8Nee_Sjb9-DOyJ3GuKb2Btz-EKcGiCqJz3WeuvL2LJ6jlM03xO_eHp2kN1836gPO_bJ4PBIe3qgcvxtVBgZQmEXE7NXTs_rTOa13uAbO3mOA80CJSQhEJU/s5464/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3550" data-original-width="5464" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaslASigetKnkLXBhUkmlKmzaFGiKjATLUGNlYUGO9UUN5QcQ0Qsj0SL4NKAcEB8Nee_Sjb9-DOyJ3GuKb2Btz-EKcGiCqJz3WeuvL2LJ6jlM03xO_eHp2kN1836gPO_bJ4PBIe3qgcvxtVBgZQmEXE7NXTs_rTOa13uAbO3mOA80CJSQhEJU/w495-h322/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" width="495" /></span></a></div><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">On Sunday November 2, 1958 the groundbreaking for the education building took place </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">on the site of what was the rectory bungalow</span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">. Mary Cochran, the oldest active member of the church, got first crack at the ceremonial shovel. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ztzpjxflkgwIvMhK3YRDOhGX4F55pQHFubTrTEhAqygljQol7yA_rQoWeodgVuwOKmewPO9ormufcFOcQElVHck7I1dfGxF46MTLT-EtxqZndfovAoqACov1jtTD5TMkioo0I6OSalqXjgtXIs5cQXTZSxGCPAKZjne9fXIfeh_Cq57rNqw/s7113/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="7113" data-original-width="5015" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ztzpjxflkgwIvMhK3YRDOhGX4F55pQHFubTrTEhAqygljQol7yA_rQoWeodgVuwOKmewPO9ormufcFOcQElVHck7I1dfGxF46MTLT-EtxqZndfovAoqACov1jtTD5TMkioo0I6OSalqXjgtXIs5cQXTZSxGCPAKZjne9fXIfeh_Cq57rNqw/w259-h367/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" width="259" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mary Cochran far left</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">From the very beginning the church tirelessly sought out new ways to connect this community. During the very first meeting at the Mancill home in 1923, Mr Moore said “I think social gatherings once in a while would be advisable in order to keep up the interests of the people.” </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">Mary Cochran proposed "scoping out home talent" to put on plays</span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"> . </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">A music recital was held a month after they moved into the building in 1923. This photo - probably taken in the late 1940s, featured at least three people from the 5400 block of Cathedral Avenue including Mary Cochran (5426), David Correll (5414) and Ezra Fox (5429.)</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Wu7hYCUcNjpHbpItwtWl7-D8LJr1vOtniTFleRGgNd1wcVxCZaioMmMPbeMIb0e60f7G_SK7oyDPIheliV-upqYmq99YWhY81F9hRXsMlWdx1b6DH4Fx2nWE8YAiNIj5NEh3vDQFsdhXCzKslVnModWc9NPZ0WIMTrMwl3w0UnocnGKvaks/s10902/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%204.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="8885" data-original-width="10902" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Wu7hYCUcNjpHbpItwtWl7-D8LJr1vOtniTFleRGgNd1wcVxCZaioMmMPbeMIb0e60f7G_SK7oyDPIheliV-upqYmq99YWhY81F9hRXsMlWdx1b6DH4Fx2nWE8YAiNIj5NEh3vDQFsdhXCzKslVnModWc9NPZ0WIMTrMwl3w0UnocnGKvaks/w484-h395/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%204.jpeg" width="484" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mary Cochran back row far left next to Dick Corell. Ezra Fox back row far right</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">In 1925 church members Nettie and William McGinniss started “The Beacon,” a church and community </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">bulletin which was named for the flashing light in the church tower. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHUqFPDtpuNslj0ZUSHYW8btzrvuJjjSVijKj4eGTw-bQN2fZPdTIvmD0-rY0XAMShP4PNZ4GTpthLmm8JIFsRs5-Q3ljmnOlISIEHfNo8gRvLJDEAhXmBu1q4XRAvFqLLpjJvh0UGpcmEW66PoMEwxtTfgKVVBCPlHg9KnMnznw-bV_f1VM/s3394/IMG_8458.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3394" data-original-width="2334" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHUqFPDtpuNslj0ZUSHYW8btzrvuJjjSVijKj4eGTw-bQN2fZPdTIvmD0-rY0XAMShP4PNZ4GTpthLmm8JIFsRs5-Q3ljmnOlISIEHfNo8gRvLJDEAhXmBu1q4XRAvFqLLpjJvh0UGpcmEW66PoMEwxtTfgKVVBCPlHg9KnMnznw-bV_f1VM/w311-h453/IMG_8458.jpeg" width="311" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1939 Beacon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">Topics were covered from</span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"> gardening to procuring a gas station for the neighborhood. Each issue paid for itself with ads on the back. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXnuhoOqfqvSPEr3wspGb03GUcOn7_PpCKWM6wr4nR0IxbL1vPQJ3fVh7K2yZL9UUI3CC-rtirwMwgeh-PAFpqYXuFxEYdcharP5NqhNppcrUTby3E720_ZPQ6MTznIu-Ivx5ew9kknATF-OK9X15vTqUvQGfW6z5esiWpcCos_lV1EFlbIs/s3220/IMG_8457.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3220" data-original-width="2079" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXnuhoOqfqvSPEr3wspGb03GUcOn7_PpCKWM6wr4nR0IxbL1vPQJ3fVh7K2yZL9UUI3CC-rtirwMwgeh-PAFpqYXuFxEYdcharP5NqhNppcrUTby3E720_ZPQ6MTznIu-Ivx5ew9kknATF-OK9X15vTqUvQGfW6z5esiWpcCos_lV1EFlbIs/w358-h554/IMG_8457.jpeg" width="358" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"> </span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">On Sundays the pastor would often load his cars with boys and drive around the neighborhood handing out that week’s issue to keep our community connected.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">Lots of clubs met in the building. I</span><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">n 1933 seven Boy Scouts kicked off a troop that still exists today. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JVrMc-Wds6C0hDZifzBtRC5D0CEBLFHgqNzWQqW23j0Ci8XK0ua0J4NoCzmnqhwYvdry3bYCx533_0hmzUY4USjInHrTsNXayBBfLYA7c9qkqYpjR1BQxi_NQ3LLy7d4sNBWvBSyvDghIhUAVXH8rYOBtk-cGEF-87P-kMiZv3ETcp-ip10/s4712/Cub%20Pack%201935.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3460" data-original-width="4712" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JVrMc-Wds6C0hDZifzBtRC5D0CEBLFHgqNzWQqW23j0Ci8XK0ua0J4NoCzmnqhwYvdry3bYCx533_0hmzUY4USjInHrTsNXayBBfLYA7c9qkqYpjR1BQxi_NQ3LLy7d4sNBWvBSyvDghIhUAVXH8rYOBtk-cGEF-87P-kMiZv3ETcp-ip10/w498-h365/Cub%20Pack%201935.jpeg" width="498" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat; font-size: x-small;">Cub Pack in 1935</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;">Just a few weeks after the Social Hall was completed in 1938, Mary Cochran’s dream came true when a play called “Everybody’s Crazy” was performed on a real stage. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjte3r6PvhyykgVKyVBkFnjKodfhbeRAPHQetXHRTZVaijg7ZPOVlwKLcEeSbeQqVbc5kYjMewcrt0uQTJ63pF5oCOBg_OcJcAGqCgH6G98CC_fcH3bu7cv_pDtT5UegxWI6HaPUex-Xycr-nW-DyNdNZVxE-M9eCuFEa5FxqqC9sUo4Lndn98/s3498/IMG_7084.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="3498" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjte3r6PvhyykgVKyVBkFnjKodfhbeRAPHQetXHRTZVaijg7ZPOVlwKLcEeSbeQqVbc5kYjMewcrt0uQTJ63pF5oCOBg_OcJcAGqCgH6G98CC_fcH3bu7cv_pDtT5UegxWI6HaPUex-Xycr-nW-DyNdNZVxE-M9eCuFEa5FxqqC9sUo4Lndn98/w531-h393/IMG_7084.jpeg" width="531" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><br /></span><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-kerning: none;">Since then the building has housed too many social activities to mention including a bowling league,</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-kerning: none;"> art classes, a rabbit breeders society, and a Welsh club. Many neighbors remember the bountiful ham and oyster dinners once put on by members of the legendary New Idea Society who loved a good hat party. </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIb0S44OroLbZxQMJUwTy1UoN_WqNBFzBRJP-kG28_nKe2V2YIv78yTE-CkCUkNUSh2w0wqZq9DGNcRiDAlFd4GhyulR3SX0NWGu1RntIboUufrLrS_li9fGWbWh_WETfdE25aw0xdS09uBXgP1EiSRnmarp_andr5A2Qbj7JOs_M842WZemo/s4558/New%20Idea%20Society%20Hat%20Party%201961.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2756" data-original-width="4558" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIb0S44OroLbZxQMJUwTy1UoN_WqNBFzBRJP-kG28_nKe2V2YIv78yTE-CkCUkNUSh2w0wqZq9DGNcRiDAlFd4GhyulR3SX0NWGu1RntIboUufrLrS_li9fGWbWh_WETfdE25aw0xdS09uBXgP1EiSRnmarp_andr5A2Qbj7JOs_M842WZemo/w592-h357/New%20Idea%20Society%20Hat%20Party%201961.jpeg" width="592" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1961</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Montserrat;">Since the 1970s, church membership has dwindled significantly to the point where the congregation can no longer support its own campus. In 2021, the church decided to look forward, to the next one hundred years, and with that in mind, repurposed the building as a non-profit community space called Palisades Hub. The building is once again open for concerts, classes and connecting neighbors. This new vision of partnership between church and community will strive to keep this space a vibrant part of our neighborhood well into the next century.<br /><br /></span><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Montserrat;"> </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Montserrat;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-9224237157800738502022-11-20T10:43:00.001-05:002022-11-20T10:43:27.116-05:00A Sears Bungalow @ 5414<p><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRRevWKGD8qZFkbSQTq_YyeYeP6RtE0H8jRQrRH-gyvVE0LzsrAa_M4LmRJBSDv5ZIG_NTz8hyr3NM9YdNmowlYRIjihBNDleS_K_qhXki5YatJTM-lQ5ZBF1GA9GewQyTnZE29SkFCEk2jvf7tMiyi0FMOI889S0n6QDmH9zZuIZdRAlzzQ/s4032/IMG_6976.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRRevWKGD8qZFkbSQTq_YyeYeP6RtE0H8jRQrRH-gyvVE0LzsrAa_M4LmRJBSDv5ZIG_NTz8hyr3NM9YdNmowlYRIjihBNDleS_K_qhXki5YatJTM-lQ5ZBF1GA9GewQyTnZE29SkFCEk2jvf7tMiyi0FMOI889S0n6QDmH9zZuIZdRAlzzQ/w465-h349/IMG_6976.jpeg" width="465" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px;">When my family first moved to this 1923 Sears kit bungalow, I wondered; Who lived here before we did? Was it a summer cottage or a full time house? And why were the two huge honking radiators in the crawl space the only source of heat upstairs?</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px;">I never found out the answer to that question, but by digging through old census forms, property deeds, and church records, I was able to find out who lived here first and was thrilled to see her numbered and named in this church photo.</span></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZGthffvR-b7_9odlyM9wpz8VFsdUtgUP52lS6Brr1UGdRUUBVsoRCvN4GbnpQy8I-R7UFTHa9NKbTicmWOrYpuHRJsToYrpP6F-_IZTVBRUswd_pu38HsuXHUSqcxLTQw1C_qrYgwe_HliIoJ2-FcCbbQDodLyWlxGws1KE_F2n6Etvd6qk/s483/nettie.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="483" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZGthffvR-b7_9odlyM9wpz8VFsdUtgUP52lS6Brr1UGdRUUBVsoRCvN4GbnpQy8I-R7UFTHa9NKbTicmWOrYpuHRJsToYrpP6F-_IZTVBRUswd_pu38HsuXHUSqcxLTQw1C_qrYgwe_HliIoJ2-FcCbbQDodLyWlxGws1KE_F2n6Etvd6qk/w460-h303/nettie.jpeg" width="460" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Nettie Correll #38</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; text-align: left;">Annette Brandon Stewart was born in 1891 in Otter River, Virginia near Lynchburg. “Nettie” was one of nine children. Their mother died when Nettie was fourteen and Ben, the youngest child in the family, was four. Their father was a clerk for the railroad which may be how Nettie met both of her husbands. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px;">Nettie and her siblings lived on a farm with their grandmother Jennie Anthony until 1914 which was a rough year for the Stewart kids. Their father died in September, and Jennie died a few months later. That same year Nettie married a local boy, Guy Hewitt Ould who also grew up in Otter River. </span></div><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Like Nettie’s father, Guy worked for the Southern Railroad as a clerk. The Oulds and their baby girl, Mattie, moved to DC by 1917 and lived in Takoma Park. Another</span> daughter, Nancy, was born in March of 1921 before Guy passed away two years later. He was buried back home in Otter River.<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Meanwhile all seven of Nettie’s siblings had moved to Washington DC by 1920, and all five of her brothers became professional photographers. One sister even<b> </b>married<b> </b>a photographer. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">The Stewart Brothers Photography company was formed in 1924 and is still in business. One of their early jobs was filming the gardens of Dumbarton Oaks from 1929 until 1932. Nettie’s brother, <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/local/2004/02/29/photographer-richard-h-stewart-dies-at-102/31c184d3-58c5-428f-b12e-ec97c28418f5/" target="_blank">Richard Stewart</a>, became a prize winning photographer and explorer for National Geographic. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrgYs_q7RYPEJ5X4RRHnUy8Aku0ABJvbSM9Sc9EyZiQ0U9OXkxe7hvHQLtBzXDh9vrx7BvkyR8gmLFXn3Y51ewOnLREH6Tqe9qu5jzl2Tx8zU-VEV_CKe31K9DAg8xO5XrLFbRsdHRfTMGJy9jMV4qcQzq8C90IBpn8BAxzBfSfBZaecEF9Y/s1376/richard%20stewart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1376" data-original-width="1082" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrgYs_q7RYPEJ5X4RRHnUy8Aku0ABJvbSM9Sc9EyZiQ0U9OXkxe7hvHQLtBzXDh9vrx7BvkyR8gmLFXn3Y51ewOnLREH6Tqe9qu5jzl2Tx8zU-VEV_CKe31K9DAg8xO5XrLFbRsdHRfTMGJy9jMV4qcQzq8C90IBpn8BAxzBfSfBZaecEF9Y/w272-h345/richard%20stewart.jpg" width="272" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Here is one of his famous photographs taken in Veracruz, Mexico in 1939.</p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8TYwghb5f8YiERFMVC32HGVMdGVaye_kba-zEXSPvsPdgkrhKQGyOiAO_9HxZq_9FowTW1ulbmCRzQriooGHVWVJVsH4r2g9is67e0lfrM6Ylg31ngae7k0wTD0bn2XqcuAAq7E7BKDD2C_1Rtg4_MeyNwFom65wFDOi9rVWGsx1WXlb4yA/s1051/nationalgeographic_75006-web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1051" data-original-width="800" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8TYwghb5f8YiERFMVC32HGVMdGVaye_kba-zEXSPvsPdgkrhKQGyOiAO_9HxZq_9FowTW1ulbmCRzQriooGHVWVJVsH4r2g9is67e0lfrM6Ylg31ngae7k0wTD0bn2XqcuAAq7E7BKDD2C_1Rtg4_MeyNwFom65wFDOi9rVWGsx1WXlb4yA/w290-h380/nationalgeographic_75006-web.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Nettie, too, became a newspaper photographer after her husband passed away. She bought this<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"> house, brand new, from the Potomac Heights Land Company in December 1923. A year later, </span>she married David K. Correll who was listed as a boarder in the Guy Ould household in the 1920 census and worked on the railroad with Guy. Nettie’s sister and two brothers also moved to Palisades in the 1920s.</p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Nettie, David and the girls were very involved with the Palisades Community Church which formed the same year Nettie bought the house. Her neighbors Mary and James Cochran, were founding church members and most certainly reached out to Nettie when she moved in. Nettie taught Sunday school and had her class over for an outing in 1927. I feel so lucky to have found this church photo taken in Nettie's back yard which looks like a casting call for "The Little Rascals."<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMRkIiOggmPejnlkDvoCBhyj07Hlmf2LsKMTgPirrRB8nYYKv5fsZ7S28ZF1ad0o9w-Phsk9aKpekXzKbP-vArr1cyStqF-agVOK4ZCaRBu2gRBNdQz2oKVpgilRle-HN1L-Bb_Wnnep3P8tAXDLxooLjI3RHHJ8fUhS8SJ7NMY6b5u5tE1jE/s5550/sunday%20school.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3136" data-original-width="5550" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMRkIiOggmPejnlkDvoCBhyj07Hlmf2LsKMTgPirrRB8nYYKv5fsZ7S28ZF1ad0o9w-Phsk9aKpekXzKbP-vArr1cyStqF-agVOK4ZCaRBu2gRBNdQz2oKVpgilRle-HN1L-Bb_Wnnep3P8tAXDLxooLjI3RHHJ8fUhS8SJ7NMY6b5u5tE1jE/w594-h336/sunday%20school.jpeg" width="594" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Both David and Nettie performed in plays, and David was on the building committee, in the choir, and served as superintendent of the Sunday School. Church meetings were also held here in the house. Nancy sang in the choir and was a standout soloist. Mattie married William Eastman, “at home” on Cathedral on January 11, 1936.</p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMICG1LdcSGHTXoztjAB9wszJQ6YO8sz1SrwJRlXaeVunRUzL8eGT8f17v58fdUWzrSl6zZFkTKqfoJJWsfhwEFuEIwe2Oyv2KWyJqodYMOuzQifdeQOmQI_Br9hm7rkJX--r6MUlAgPlzG0_RgkejAQcbK7nCUQg27oefmViB26Uv9-cHQK4/s499/Mattye%20Ould%201936.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="328" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMICG1LdcSGHTXoztjAB9wszJQ6YO8sz1SrwJRlXaeVunRUzL8eGT8f17v58fdUWzrSl6zZFkTKqfoJJWsfhwEFuEIwe2Oyv2KWyJqodYMOuzQifdeQOmQI_Br9hm7rkJX--r6MUlAgPlzG0_RgkejAQcbK7nCUQg27oefmViB26Uv9-cHQK4/s320/Mattye%20Ould%201936.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;">Nettie and David sold the house after Mattie got married. They moved with Nancy to Arcadia Street off Western Avenue NW in 1937, but they stayed very involved with the church until they moved to Florida in the late 1950s. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFX2SDGpM6LaDtITx22CNW1CDZLyO-cJpfToJRWLkdWRlYPyUnrta4wFdil_xPQEnoGptmRCWS_aGmppsxslUeN8eVHFuD-DFn2v6tYdnRLcZrzdWYF1tPm3V-NULtGQD2mO6zsrKzYDK5a3OS_bh-QaAGB2uexoA2X2CLVr1mbXWeGaYPh0/s1191/Nettie%20and%20David%20Correll%20with%20Nancy%20in%20front%20of%20Nettie%201939.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFX2SDGpM6LaDtITx22CNW1CDZLyO-cJpfToJRWLkdWRlYPyUnrta4wFdil_xPQEnoGptmRCWS_aGmppsxslUeN8eVHFuD-DFn2v6tYdnRLcZrzdWYF1tPm3V-NULtGQD2mO6zsrKzYDK5a3OS_bh-QaAGB2uexoA2X2CLVr1mbXWeGaYPh0/s320/Nettie%20and%20David%20Correll%20with%20Nancy%20in%20front%20of%20Nettie%201939.jpeg" width="318" /></a></div><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span><p></p>
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<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 21px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-58397705912671534082022-11-20T10:15:00.000-05:002022-11-20T10:15:03.718-05:00The Revolving Door of 5410 Cathedral<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GGAcPk0Zp7poobXIMb_E-qZxe3O0UZzokHN-HPCcFHoUdj3LO3HmBYG3Wt40IAtoS9T6CDqxnrNkYn7fOp5o7kYyyTdv40_dKjbRpHjRwfqD5g29ioVRF1LB80BkWYMrAMGToNzF7VOSLbLCn9uIvuINul0_nSPnEOMVi-QDocv64OR-4eg/s3343/IMG_7707.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3343" data-original-width="2699" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GGAcPk0Zp7poobXIMb_E-qZxe3O0UZzokHN-HPCcFHoUdj3LO3HmBYG3Wt40IAtoS9T6CDqxnrNkYn7fOp5o7kYyyTdv40_dKjbRpHjRwfqD5g29ioVRF1LB80BkWYMrAMGToNzF7VOSLbLCn9uIvuINul0_nSPnEOMVi-QDocv64OR-4eg/w362-h449/IMG_7707.jpeg" width="362" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">Adolf and Freida Frelitz were the first owners of this 1927 Dutch colonial. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px;">The couple came to this area from Germany when they were both about 30 years old. Adolf was a butcher by trade, and Frieida a home maker. Three children, Henry, Fred and Catherine, came along before they bought the house on Cathedral Avenue in 1928. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px;">By then Fred was 17 and Catherine was 15. (Sadly their eldest son, Henry, died when he was only fifteen in 1922.) </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">Perhaps the river attracted the Frelitz family as the only article I could find about them mentioned fishing for catfish in a 1926 Evening Star:</span></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-JzuSTyDwYi2So19BDNDebCBLdJb3gnUHf96jeKeEE1zx4IKLTSJALW6Fwoo-uxphpPZ_cJ8wptdbyFjhEjlU46lPDLVsGIjCDs-r3XlJmcvF8cRoSzhpPCmMaL-E_7v4gzEfBUhnuWa1vn59p0MtuKRq119UnRlc4nOAGNRfyjnWZNKt7k/s904/fielitz%20feb%2028,1926%20Eve%20Star.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="904" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-JzuSTyDwYi2So19BDNDebCBLdJb3gnUHf96jeKeEE1zx4IKLTSJALW6Fwoo-uxphpPZ_cJ8wptdbyFjhEjlU46lPDLVsGIjCDs-r3XlJmcvF8cRoSzhpPCmMaL-E_7v4gzEfBUhnuWa1vn59p0MtuKRq119UnRlc4nOAGNRfyjnWZNKt7k/w480-h217/fielitz%20feb%2028,1926%20Eve%20Star.png" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px;"><br /></span></div>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px;">The 1930 census indicated that Adolf was still working in the meatpacking industry; Fred had become a draftsman for the government, and Caroline was a stenographer. A year later Caroline married and moved to Baltimore with her new husband George. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">
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Fred too, was married by 1936. He and his wife Hedwig had a son in 1937 and named him Henry after Fred's late older brother. By 1939, Fred and family had moved to New Jersey. Adolf and Freida moved in with Caroline and George in Baltimore. The house was rented to the Fuchs' family from 1939 until about 1942 which formed a lifelong connection for</span> Peter Fuchs. He was born at this residence, and also lived near the Palisades library while growing up. He left the area in 1956, but returned in 1968 with his wife Marilyn when they bought around the corner on Carolina Place. </p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Adoph sold the home to the Glasser family in 1945. The house turned over 4 more times in the next 35 years. Here is an ad from 1948</p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MCWqNymbRK_LgVP8wRup26IDjrPKfHitnYiTVOxv9poeNdtVnPo3TA8M0TbS9c5RTMSSlBkEy-uaJ-IQgPDeycW1KhPhv2IHnPL-eebuz9xtJd34Fez8fQFfdXoGjfa6hjOZwldmpw9MR9iM50zk_ayT1QjcWjORKQUHsqYaEY02UjfxAow/s978/5410:1948.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="978" data-original-width="790" height="475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MCWqNymbRK_LgVP8wRup26IDjrPKfHitnYiTVOxv9poeNdtVnPo3TA8M0TbS9c5RTMSSlBkEy-uaJ-IQgPDeycW1KhPhv2IHnPL-eebuz9xtJd34Fez8fQFfdXoGjfa6hjOZwldmpw9MR9iM50zk_ayT1QjcWjORKQUHsqYaEY02UjfxAow/w383-h475/5410:1948.png" width="383" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Here's another from 1967. We can see someone whacked down the foliage and put up a chain link fence in the meantime.</p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VN_lqddFHz-nhaawK_3l-yX5A2IEK7hLLdhe8UkSan9T3PvhovXazFqxBYIRbOHvPOfMY5P38397oOfNlrTi4eLC6NHplpyh-WZdpbxjUzoHYj4xwtQkPLrezTNV7Ws_2MEcMZNpT_K3LjYXfkbpyjxl3QHeORgeTo9mtiuwicL_aG0IvCE/s922/5410:1967.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="900" height="455" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VN_lqddFHz-nhaawK_3l-yX5A2IEK7hLLdhe8UkSan9T3PvhovXazFqxBYIRbOHvPOfMY5P38397oOfNlrTi4eLC6NHplpyh-WZdpbxjUzoHYj4xwtQkPLrezTNV7Ws_2MEcMZNpT_K3LjYXfkbpyjxl3QHeORgeTo9mtiuwicL_aG0IvCE/w443-h455/5410:1967.png" width="443" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">This house has turned over more than an other on the block, and has also seen a lot of renters. Additions were added in the back, and the garage was turned into a man cave, but the core of the house remains the same, and the front porch has always been welcoming. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-11556663510113407052022-04-28T08:06:00.001-04:002023-06-19T17:36:26.133-04:00Fannie and The Foxes<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ad25F3--9TNxkgxSnmJnmi4Q5VTejXLy75VDU7a_MblX4DH63mCjca8TDkHfDW_8fwdZpLtEenf9wmZvgvoWOmlx4QmSZf4DMC6Cr4nodIyi0qM4A8Do1dU72ybtcvoE9fUA-ZvbrJRGCHscIMqqV6MrWEZmYVR1nw7A2U5e8qx0NPqNNdk/s5312/Samuels'%20house%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2988" data-original-width="5312" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ad25F3--9TNxkgxSnmJnmi4Q5VTejXLy75VDU7a_MblX4DH63mCjca8TDkHfDW_8fwdZpLtEenf9wmZvgvoWOmlx4QmSZf4DMC6Cr4nodIyi0qM4A8Do1dU72ybtcvoE9fUA-ZvbrJRGCHscIMqqV6MrWEZmYVR1nw7A2U5e8qx0NPqNNdk/w548-h308/Samuels'%20house%202.jpg" width="548" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by Mary Stapp</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I never met Fannie Harward, the first owner of 5429 Cathedral, but I believe she was a strong, hard working woman with a head for real estate. She was </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">born in 1869, just after the Civil War, on a farm near Charlottesville, Virginia. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I first found her in Washington in an1898 street directory. She was listed as a widow and a dress maker, but a</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">fter considerable digging, I discovered that Fannie was divorced from a man named JL Cox in 1896. The two had a daughter named Stella who was born in 1888, but did not live with Fannie or her ex-husband.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">I think she may have called herself a widow for propriety’s sake. What I do know is that she had to make own way for some time and that two of her sisters eventually joined her in DC. In the 1900 DC census, Fannie and her younger sister Elizabeth lived together working as a caterer and a waitress. They sublet a room to a typesetter at the Government Printing Office which was right across the street. Fannie may have met her second husband, Charles, through this connection. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">Charles Harward was born in North Carolina, but moved to DC to work at the printing office. I found this poem he wrote for his deceased little sister, Mabel when he was 20 years old in July of 1887. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><b>Baby's Grave</b></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Down in the verdant woodland deep, </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Where blooming daisies wave,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Where rippling waters dance and leap, </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>There is a tiny grave.</i></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Our darling babe is buried there- </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Our treasure and our pride;</i></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>She was so sweet, so pure, so fair, </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>So lovely when she died.</i></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>She died as does the budding rose, </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>Which Winter's breath doth blast, </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>And on Jesus' breast, in sweet repose </i></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><i>She is safe from harm at last.</i></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Charles and Fannie were married in 1901. Fannie was 33 by then and never stopped working.</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> <span>In 1907 the Harwards lived in a large boarding house </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">on 13th Street NW overlooking Franklin Square</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span>. Fannie managed the property which housed over thirty tenants and was also referred to as the Cutler Hotel. Fannie's first foray into real estate, as far as I can tell, was the purchase of two lots on</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-kerning: none;"> </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-kerning: none;">the alley behind the building. </span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-kerning: none;">Fannie continued to buy and sell real estate. In 1910 she sold her alley lots and </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">bought property in Cabin John, MD which she later sold to her sister Sarah. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-kerning: none;">A tiny announcement of the sale appeared in the Evening Star right next to a large real estate ad for Potomac Heights. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Cutler Hotel was sold in 1919, and the Harwards bought their own home at 23 Iowa Circle, now known as Logan Circle. A few years later, Fannie started investing in Potomac Heights like she was playing a game of Monopoly. Between 1923 and 1927 she bought 5429 Hawthorne Place, 5515 and 5747 Potomac Ave, 5434 Carolina Place, and 5125 and 5429 Cathedral. There could be more. Fannie is usually the only name mentioned as the first owner of these properties. Most of these houses have been torn down, but 5429 Hawthorne, built in 1923, is still much like it was.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7aF-Lv4jYRuE96AD_fkkBB4qU9URVc_ImrpbBz8FAP_sHZ3Oj0n4Nuo3j-VYx96yyaD9VQ25tAkVMkrzuCSXSLBqXjXXUr7lgyvI_WrtsxQ7Ioip-XDUnmmKUJ_PT3D2tck0FVu-FuP5oObPLl1wfArWHWV5g8Fq2Yiis4WAAWG4cORnae8/s3701/IMG_9220.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2712" data-original-width="3701" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7aF-Lv4jYRuE96AD_fkkBB4qU9URVc_ImrpbBz8FAP_sHZ3Oj0n4Nuo3j-VYx96yyaD9VQ25tAkVMkrzuCSXSLBqXjXXUr7lgyvI_WrtsxQ7Ioip-XDUnmmKUJ_PT3D2tck0FVu-FuP5oObPLl1wfArWHWV5g8Fq2Yiis4WAAWG4cORnae8/w452-h330/IMG_9220.jpeg" width="452" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In 1926 Fannie and Charles were living at the 5434 Carolina Place property which was a Sears and Roebuck kit house. This may be the only other building still standing that Fannie once owned. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RIacob3AUKGilwXr9Db1Ll4em6gSL21EvouJXT8ixjycrcEvQAm4_kPHfzRkUZBrOeTTw62NewjcXzH25nbzAkTbfzOjXCrell91jcLDbuOm7FbEWo8fDxlkAqwsAZLlhJRBre3SuVNS7tNLowWHEJtnva7GlDnlyi0-XxE1UrPjOlrOH-0/s4032/IMG_8423.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RIacob3AUKGilwXr9Db1Ll4em6gSL21EvouJXT8ixjycrcEvQAm4_kPHfzRkUZBrOeTTw62NewjcXzH25nbzAkTbfzOjXCrell91jcLDbuOm7FbEWo8fDxlkAqwsAZLlhJRBre3SuVNS7tNLowWHEJtnva7GlDnlyi0-XxE1UrPjOlrOH-0/w406-h304/IMG_8423.jpeg" width="406" /></a></div><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">A year later she oversaw the construction of a handsome Dutch colonial right across the street from herself at 5429 Cathedral. Here's a snippet from the Evening Star:</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVwZvdBKh3AvENbCeqjLLImdITb51ZnWEYWuKht13kwe3vLX_y4lCu4slEAFXCdQPjNzoh5r2yPUYd9yZ3AtFaXbeWsMcAc1d5gAyZTKeZBgKGzD3OTI8PDyidHFLgt1KcPIT3d3eUjNOpzh9rYDLEwmoawVUltocqxsP7N--lKoJDCn-S-4/s1352/2%20jan%201927%20Eve%20Star%20Fannie.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="1352" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVwZvdBKh3AvENbCeqjLLImdITb51ZnWEYWuKht13kwe3vLX_y4lCu4slEAFXCdQPjNzoh5r2yPUYd9yZ3AtFaXbeWsMcAc1d5gAyZTKeZBgKGzD3OTI8PDyidHFLgt1KcPIT3d3eUjNOpzh9rYDLEwmoawVUltocqxsP7N--lKoJDCn-S-4/w486-h123/2%20jan%201927%20Eve%20Star%20Fannie.png" width="486" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">A mention in the church bulletin in 1929 indicates the Harwards rented furnished rooms, so it looks like they were still in boarding house mode. Here is the only photo I was able to find of Fannie, standing on the far left with the congregation of The Potomac Heights Church for their annual group photo in 1930. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbaDpMAz7NbpHmRw0F6u-fyhxMUQAqUODuCg18Z2-4all2jV7q43V-2ouuMFGeVmwhBF03SWXZawqL5-3zo7EjysfFzHzq4z5ebuGsiqZf550IxhH0ngZ7e-HHNyqerfrss7hgSjL1-xvWc2T5ybxja4vY7DSiWp0wryhbC7FRkqb4ItGwBxo/s2026/Fannie%20far%20left%201930.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1832" data-original-width="2026" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbaDpMAz7NbpHmRw0F6u-fyhxMUQAqUODuCg18Z2-4all2jV7q43V-2ouuMFGeVmwhBF03SWXZawqL5-3zo7EjysfFzHzq4z5ebuGsiqZf550IxhH0ngZ7e-HHNyqerfrss7hgSjL1-xvWc2T5ybxja4vY7DSiWp0wryhbC7FRkqb4ItGwBxo/w399-h360/Fannie%20far%20left%201930.jpeg" width="399" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">By 1930, the Harwards were both in their 60s. The census revealed they had a lodger named Ezra A. Fox, a 27 year old man who was born in Virginia. He was working as the manager of an A & P grocery store. The next year Ezra went back to his hometown of Luray, Virginia to marry his neighbor and long time sweetheart, Virginia Kibler.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-yqzDocuVT0h67sSETn-1QBd7wc0D5p2Ic9axmsC1WyjLnCB9hLHwOk4eZ4X5E1jKwVTjt_ui1H5_V3gg7qYA0iLExTIZAHBflKeLx2SLh_Ah0lPBu-gkbhKpTFBepZ-B9iH7a16qr3uEki1Q00tL8rFcmZINz5RzdD_6r5SYUT4TgxddOU/s2342/Virginia%20Kibler's%20home.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="2342" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-yqzDocuVT0h67sSETn-1QBd7wc0D5p2Ic9axmsC1WyjLnCB9hLHwOk4eZ4X5E1jKwVTjt_ui1H5_V3gg7qYA0iLExTIZAHBflKeLx2SLh_Ah0lPBu-gkbhKpTFBepZ-B9iH7a16qr3uEki1Q00tL8rFcmZINz5RzdD_6r5SYUT4TgxddOU/w421-h322/Virginia%20Kibler's%20home.jpg" width="421" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Virginia's home in Luray, VA</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Virginia, mind you, had not been sitting around pining for Ezra. She had to give up her job as superintendent of Page County schools when she went to live with Ezra at the Harward's home. Ezra started working for his neighbor Early Rector at Rector's Store which was just up the street.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Charles Harward retired from the printing office in 1932 and died “suddenly” at home in October of 1935. </span><span style="font-size: medium;">A year after Charles’ death, Fannie sold her home to the Foxes as well as the house at 5515 Potomac Ave. She lived at 5515, probably until the Foxes sold the property in 1939. I am not sure where Fannie went after this, but she her address was 1725 P Street when she died in 1951. Fannie was buried with Charles in Alexandria. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LvkF-eGPxPF2EIdslvAceFhIitpK3dTDI_Z5nNgOqLdXG_x2nJF6BlaB32wRnhyteFuJ62xMRnuq1gmiCquBZ-y2etvnPQCTJoxzAGYjbJYYP8nBYysb35b2bJE-OrEyiG9OGTmQ6o4yu3sQtwhCfO4W33B-Ps050jqXukcR1pdMKgdmJgQ/s445/chas%20harward%20grave%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="323" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LvkF-eGPxPF2EIdslvAceFhIitpK3dTDI_Z5nNgOqLdXG_x2nJF6BlaB32wRnhyteFuJ62xMRnuq1gmiCquBZ-y2etvnPQCTJoxzAGYjbJYYP8nBYysb35b2bJE-OrEyiG9OGTmQ6o4yu3sQtwhCfO4W33B-Ps050jqXukcR1pdMKgdmJgQ/w276-h381/chas%20harward%20grave%202.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span>I</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">n 1936, Ezra and Virginia had a baby boy they named Allen Wayne. That same year, Ezra's boss, Early Rector, talked Ezra into buying his store and gas station </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">which Ezra </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">thoughtfully renamed Fox’s Market and Service Station. </span></span><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFjEOitu9bp_I14iGKkoM7kGrlNPQlj8WeU0DjtKM0C7KpmNn8u5CPAEcmrGDTFR9NkFppj2V7r7idY1O9QETsf8l8160kHuhPqlMnAbUh0fa5m6KsXjjAC9brhe2ItgkBINJF9PuM05FAmCCjbvEHRm5KOgZdLdsjt9w8XsAwGJubCV3tg8/s2588/IMG_7069.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1943" data-original-width="2588" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFjEOitu9bp_I14iGKkoM7kGrlNPQlj8WeU0DjtKM0C7KpmNn8u5CPAEcmrGDTFR9NkFppj2V7r7idY1O9QETsf8l8160kHuhPqlMnAbUh0fa5m6KsXjjAC9brhe2ItgkBINJF9PuM05FAmCCjbvEHRm5KOgZdLdsjt9w8XsAwGJubCV3tg8/s320/IMG_7069.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">Ezra would open the shop every day at 5 a.m., and Virginia would take phone orders at home, then fill and deliver them later in the day. When Ezra added a soda fountain to the cigar bar, Virginia made the chocolate syrup for the ice cream. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">In 1940 the Foxes rented a room to a newlywed couple named George and Sarah Wilson. K</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">eeping it all on the block, their neighbor Raymond Pruett, who lived on Carolina Place, sold the Wilson's his parents' house at 5422 Cathedral. This happened in 1951 after Raymond's mother had died.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">The Foxes ran the store until they retired and sold the property. They were active in the Palisades Community Church for most of their lives. Ezra and Virginia can be seen in the 1947 congregation shot standing in the middle of the back row.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQh2jJ3vCF11dSfA5myRJqAlI0IBKo4iNLHoURIfM6dsa-UGMhpzlZs8SEynhKDuLHQdz1X7yldLmQKmKFV0AxmU7GIyzIPnYhrwl4J956qgWItTY_b1L6xAFcHIv1zRtpn0wwR_GNhWxvkHKuHRcdLuQOi_rIiwrCz20IXXt-4AignKnNdA/s569/IMG_7283.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="314" data-original-width="569" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQh2jJ3vCF11dSfA5myRJqAlI0IBKo4iNLHoURIfM6dsa-UGMhpzlZs8SEynhKDuLHQdz1X7yldLmQKmKFV0AxmU7GIyzIPnYhrwl4J956qgWItTY_b1L6xAFcHIv1zRtpn0wwR_GNhWxvkHKuHRcdLuQOi_rIiwrCz20IXXt-4AignKnNdA/w494-h273/IMG_7283.jpeg" width="494" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-66970328313557226992022-04-24T07:29:00.001-04:002022-05-24T17:59:16.328-04:00Chasing an Elusive History <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAU8gn1bORhPrnSZDiMb-kc7CqdGUc-GldqPz-Nli_7sINiv2oWNsMkkgoHOlTJM_0EEDu7Z5nV0pFh-QcNz-cWIpe65gKqHHpNPIl0qUFroZ07nebP4-ouGHwCIm2Doy1ODxv3oFOfNt2dWz-45I6bFvUdLv2n9kFBL2vbJTwavAo4oSSGo/s2893/5408.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2893" data-original-width="2085" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAU8gn1bORhPrnSZDiMb-kc7CqdGUc-GldqPz-Nli_7sINiv2oWNsMkkgoHOlTJM_0EEDu7Z5nV0pFh-QcNz-cWIpe65gKqHHpNPIl0qUFroZ07nebP4-ouGHwCIm2Doy1ODxv3oFOfNt2dWz-45I6bFvUdLv2n9kFBL2vbJTwavAo4oSSGo/w307-h425/5408.jpeg" width="307" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Built in 1919, the first owner listed at 5408 Cathedral was Clarence Oliver Hamilton, a housing contractor and carpenter. But in the 1920 census, he lived nearby in Cabin John, Maryland. Perhaps he built this house as an investment and never lived here, or maybe he moved in after selling his own home in 1922 ? I can only guess what happened for the next five years. </span></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">According to the deed, the next owner was Rose Dowling. Rose’s father died in 1916, and her mother moved up the hill to 5016 Jewett street which is what Cathedral Cathedral Avenue was called back then. Rose may or may not have lived with her mother until she died in 1920 when Rose was 32 years old. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">Rose's oldest brother Marshall bought the property for Rose in 1924, but a few years later she finally married. Rose and her new husband Paul then moved to New York.The property was listed for sale, but did not change hands again until after the couple divorced in 1945. I believe the house was rented out most of those years. I found a little gem in the Evening Star in 1927 about policemen caught up in a gambling raid. One of the arrested listed his address as 5408 Cathedral. A year later though, a different man ran an ad for a lost collie. Again I'm grasping at history straws.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">I do know that William and Edith Blowe officially bought the house in 1948, but they may have been renting from Rose since at least 1935. William was a bakery salesman. They had two boys, William Jr and Peyton. Both went to Western High school. Here's a school shot of Peyton who was named for his maternal </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">grandfather.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ve-Sq8_5JqMFLaUuFjMmkvJUbNd48BECMORGIXL-DzxZdtMiX3DR9UsZ_0o0jTJnakpESXa64YR8RPPjr-xSNPqcq6dWoF4AWwyKnWyfqvCPra4fxRu3P-HvhtMzYLqaM7r3U3JlQTzPPy3c_gWyP7gHGFjnlr46OOSc5U_LLNfKoZTLnug/s570/Peyton%20Tunstall%20Blowe%20age%2016%20at%20Western%20copy.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="430" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ve-Sq8_5JqMFLaUuFjMmkvJUbNd48BECMORGIXL-DzxZdtMiX3DR9UsZ_0o0jTJnakpESXa64YR8RPPjr-xSNPqcq6dWoF4AWwyKnWyfqvCPra4fxRu3P-HvhtMzYLqaM7r3U3JlQTzPPy3c_gWyP7gHGFjnlr46OOSc5U_LLNfKoZTLnug/w199-h264/Peyton%20Tunstall%20Blowe%20age%2016%20at%20Western%20copy.png" width="199" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By 1940, William Jr, his wife Vera and their baby Caroline all lived here as well. Vera Maceron formerly lived around the corner on Sherier Place. William married his "girl next door” in 1936. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In 1952 the Blowes sold the house to Blanche Stevens, a former missionary teacher and specialist with the Mapping Service. Before working at the map service, Blanche had taught school in Japanese occupied North Korea from 1911-1940. (If those walls could talk, I'll bet Blanche had some interesting stories.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In 1963 Blanche sold the house to the McFall family. Also a teacher, Frances McFall taught third grade at Key Elementary for many years and was known for taking her students on a bird watching expedition every spring. She raised her own children here and stayed in the house until the end of her life, shortly after retiring in 2004.</span></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbPQJEPRxuTqrM_A4q0S68z72ZpHs11BAfUCacZkhCYbJYexqo9CEfPcYhiklAi590cTF6T-OtejZYU6nwyq_bVVNgXtBPqgh3I1xNEj-CZPtUbo_AMB2RgZ6LdmxT5JTdhxvwtFCFko5SeOhkVodIZ6xczQyln8X8DJ78ngDTFcs5glDt9A/s2216/IMG_9440.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2216" data-original-width="1518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbPQJEPRxuTqrM_A4q0S68z72ZpHs11BAfUCacZkhCYbJYexqo9CEfPcYhiklAi590cTF6T-OtejZYU6nwyq_bVVNgXtBPqgh3I1xNEj-CZPtUbo_AMB2RgZ6LdmxT5JTdhxvwtFCFko5SeOhkVodIZ6xczQyln8X8DJ78ngDTFcs5glDt9A/s320/IMG_9440.heic" width="219" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-91316635224755788592022-04-22T10:54:00.007-04:002023-06-19T17:04:20.224-04:00All About the Brick<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5DxcCEwt6I0jSusB4cSVPu2JFKuUJ7f_eZTxZfqbZVjp3rUHz9vbng3Fqfj91My1p-KKTeQNl_qblXLkDzmTWNT3NTxG2oQT2cjAOzetd9YmmZZosBw8NvnW0tKMFtvfYDAv7LepyGUAUwbIsfvOls7w1tSP15M3pVlDY-ImNpyqMpkwNnOc/s3145/5422%20Cathedral.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2540" data-original-width="3145" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5DxcCEwt6I0jSusB4cSVPu2JFKuUJ7f_eZTxZfqbZVjp3rUHz9vbng3Fqfj91My1p-KKTeQNl_qblXLkDzmTWNT3NTxG2oQT2cjAOzetd9YmmZZosBw8NvnW0tKMFtvfYDAv7LepyGUAUwbIsfvOls7w1tSP15M3pVlDY-ImNpyqMpkwNnOc/w408-h329/5422%20Cathedral.jpeg" width="408" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">In 1923, a wooden frame bungalow belonging to Frank A and Fannie Ernst stood at 5422 Cathedral, but five years later a fire destroyed the house. This story was posted in the Evening Star on October 26, 1928:</span></p></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXw7sHG5Z4dKdnALK5TEHKhWOdayi99dhF1-2SrVG3KDqWcAyM0kgX8xe671j3ogtcWq7nnioTSwMfUptV0x89Q2gBh7DNovBkdys_6tG8NjkKmRzo-ZRpFC_2qPrJtwq-_goJ9J9jLqmL0dmwc7PGmgMWxqF7ZL_6rTj2RgRMGQfSS4eO1qs/s904/Fire%20%2026%20Oct%201928%20Ev.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="904" data-original-width="894" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXw7sHG5Z4dKdnALK5TEHKhWOdayi99dhF1-2SrVG3KDqWcAyM0kgX8xe671j3ogtcWq7nnioTSwMfUptV0x89Q2gBh7DNovBkdys_6tG8NjkKmRzo-ZRpFC_2qPrJtwq-_goJ9J9jLqmL0dmwc7PGmgMWxqF7ZL_6rTj2RgRMGQfSS4eO1qs/w383-h388/Fire%20%2026%20Oct%201928%20Ev.jpg" width="383" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And this appreciation was published in "The Beacon, " a bulletin put out by Potomac Heights Community Church: "Words fall to express to you our thanks and gratitude for all your many kindnesses and unstinted generosity in so unselfishly assisting us in getting comfortably located after the loss of our house and its furnishings by fire last Friday morning....only. a heap of smoldering ashes remain. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">The next property owner, George Estler Pruett, was born in Washington DC in 1873. His father was an iron worker, and George became a bricklayer. In 1895, George married another DC native, Miss Bessie Jackson. Their only child, George Raymond, was born in 1903. "Raymond" grew up at 1912 N Street in Georgetown and attended Central High School. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Raymond also became a bricklayer and joined forces with his father in the building business. In the 1920s, the two of them built and sold a pair of brick houses at 3301 and 3303 Dent Place. In 1929, Raymond was able to build a home for himself and his bride-to-be, Winifred Mae Williams at 5411 </span>Carolina</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span> Place</span>. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2390" data-original-width="3820" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVZ1NXWBLhNbUG0zvWp_1fizTqUeyRmqNsDtvbhOAQkDyalZjuLoRNcfl3ECqRjl1vMGw72udjEFqyXrP1r_QSg6OuIRA2Szmook5M91kdK4ugsntM_W-6Cjse4Zw5U4zhydddzNtoo5fwjB4v3t815sO9OGvUGCoujIrRsNwgmjpteTa3dc/w535-h335/IMG_8200.jpeg" width="535" /></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Raymond and Winifred had four children and lived on Carolina Place until 1953. They started their family </span>with<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span>Mary who was born in 1932.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJNGVrLYOT1xpSLqTRl5dmIwznhZijTXLU20t1LkJ2gflUXBci3hdGQgrX5FpFMUkhQlWv6DzFWfPyeI8ZaF4F4A8bwZUPi5qfuIWSdHuiaSJJ4xts50XBG9q0lCATY-SjKsH7wQ54mcbUF0upHTyiWftAdsjtxXrtbp2rdlM5rj_mCZzxfk/s1109/G%20Ray%20And%20Mary.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="881" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJNGVrLYOT1xpSLqTRl5dmIwznhZijTXLU20t1LkJ2gflUXBci3hdGQgrX5FpFMUkhQlWv6DzFWfPyeI8ZaF4F4A8bwZUPi5qfuIWSdHuiaSJJ4xts50XBG9q0lCATY-SjKsH7wQ54mcbUF0upHTyiWftAdsjtxXrtbp2rdlM5rj_mCZzxfk/s320/G%20Ray%20And%20Mary.jpg" width="254" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">George and Raymond were all about the brick. A year after Raymond’s house was finished, George built a traditional brick colonial for himself and Bessie at 5422 Cathedral, just around the corner from his son. I think this is a photo of George and Bessie with their grand daughter Mary.</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkC0-og0gm9rKWrFgfi9ee9rHmXBAeedSQaIQeUqu9Va2bFqk8KQ19nFAzpp0fuqqFIgp0Yc8WQ1VPw2FO8-eQUrzv5QrzzGqZOAN1E9PZ4ypzLmU82ZvvxhbIuwn8JHSj8Ub3OWvIe_uO-HPvK9iDXFX1gyNf_KdL9-d3biWrGHLZ6dkPHM/s446/goerge%20and%20bessie%20pruett.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="344" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkC0-og0gm9rKWrFgfi9ee9rHmXBAeedSQaIQeUqu9Va2bFqk8KQ19nFAzpp0fuqqFIgp0Yc8WQ1VPw2FO8-eQUrzv5QrzzGqZOAN1E9PZ4ypzLmU82ZvvxhbIuwn8JHSj8Ub3OWvIe_uO-HPvK9iDXFX1gyNf_KdL9-d3biWrGHLZ6dkPHM/w367-h476/goerge%20and%20bessie%20pruett.jpg" width="367" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Initials carved in a corner of the concrete floor indicate that Raymond had a hand in building the handsome garage behind his father’s house in 1932.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveoXAA_BGP-XGvC0d1HWn44ZdNVHvhAhScC2JbkZ4iFt9A_gnd7c27dTW-Ggg4uATwnGf7bmYQ7_-TfDDu3_2ELItrDJdACZQY2T1Xzl655KgyhYK54lDU_zBS61-4bpPxZcbMF3d1-m3liDdgXc2tAgBE0IGfdAvo-pvw3B_1fLxJZOZCmw/s2765/IMG_8298.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2081" data-original-width="2765" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveoXAA_BGP-XGvC0d1HWn44ZdNVHvhAhScC2JbkZ4iFt9A_gnd7c27dTW-Ggg4uATwnGf7bmYQ7_-TfDDu3_2ELItrDJdACZQY2T1Xzl655KgyhYK54lDU_zBS61-4bpPxZcbMF3d1-m3liDdgXc2tAgBE0IGfdAvo-pvw3B_1fLxJZOZCmw/s320/IMG_8298.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">The Pruetts were busy men between 1933 and 1940. They built at least five more houses to sell, much like the one at 5422 Cathedral, within a block or two of their own homes. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBUJPANpW9sdUIDmflyWSYoeMg2qfyOOGBnCQdH-KsnJWblqCTgHiPufYkpFE70igCCUDeKVff2wxxRctkrPOBKuGM7JDJ9fQuJEpVIL7kzcLU5WrpsUX6dvq6i_vAyx7Oi-jWTOOT52WbtVaKluGl0Crh394n2a8rC5UHe2_Qn2VSl3-Izk/s5654/1939.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2940" data-original-width="5654" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBUJPANpW9sdUIDmflyWSYoeMg2qfyOOGBnCQdH-KsnJWblqCTgHiPufYkpFE70igCCUDeKVff2wxxRctkrPOBKuGM7JDJ9fQuJEpVIL7kzcLU5WrpsUX6dvq6i_vAyx7Oi-jWTOOT52WbtVaKluGl0Crh394n2a8rC5UHe2_Qn2VSl3-Izk/w511-h265/1939.jpeg" width="511" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1939 Ad from church bulletin</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Three claimed to have river views at 5404, 5406 and 5414 Carolina Place. All used to sit in a row despite the wonky house numbers. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRLjHC-4XJloiArKWVZicCPOUIsqKzklnviO1_hUMGoH0WIaaC3QJB-v9g1vadhfR-0ahNKoFE3MaTXpVUEAX2mXspIJWQdzfKGHgQlu-HGND99NZe0NLME_k2IfCbPtBebjQWxnvMJXR05UyaZfiNzomkSnSIff82tIDrLZc6K1nfuYG9Fc/s3670/IMG_9123.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2335" data-original-width="3670" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRLjHC-4XJloiArKWVZicCPOUIsqKzklnviO1_hUMGoH0WIaaC3QJB-v9g1vadhfR-0ahNKoFE3MaTXpVUEAX2mXspIJWQdzfKGHgQlu-HGND99NZe0NLME_k2IfCbPtBebjQWxnvMJXR05UyaZfiNzomkSnSIff82tIDrLZc6K1nfuYG9Fc/w529-h337/IMG_9123.jpeg" width="529" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Two more were on the next block at 5507 and 5511 Carolina. <span style="font-family: inherit;">All of these homes are still standing except for 5414. Here's the original ad for that house from 1933:</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7L0VzO4jCIpyOqk5VM6BL3gvvPnQci8RbB0GM_OohjvyMPnJo_hSNTCVKfzfQmzimm06SogkYavtOx0nxpp9oY8n6Z-RB9QQGObLRJ0M2qs-BN8M_BAYbBgh592BSn8NHYI6157KytSfVPOXQBqqcKHidhPd3jIcsidixbubCdrC8vHNICY/s1198/1933%20Eve%20Star%205414%20Caroli.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="712" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7L0VzO4jCIpyOqk5VM6BL3gvvPnQci8RbB0GM_OohjvyMPnJo_hSNTCVKfzfQmzimm06SogkYavtOx0nxpp9oY8n6Z-RB9QQGObLRJ0M2qs-BN8M_BAYbBgh592BSn8NHYI6157KytSfVPOXQBqqcKHidhPd3jIcsidixbubCdrC8vHNICY/w336-h566/1933%20Eve%20Star%205414%20Caroli.jpg" width="336" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">In 1940, George was 67 years old and still working according to the census. He made the papers when his pocket was picked while trying to find a seat at the movies. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkSYX-3eFwJk2FLG-dnycn6sOzxb1tEOxe1QOrAtKSbbqTzzfXRI19eODJ7Ii1bTnI_lzf0LXts8GHN5FeX9l8S8Nh7s2_7f2A_RR_uy7M4Nm_livPbAfyrX7lVq0MeVBDu-edvCbtcRQ7OcdTRkokN77ZKmHDAf8i5IPm2m8Unz9mkChGo8/s964/pick%20pocket%20George%20Pruett.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="748" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkSYX-3eFwJk2FLG-dnycn6sOzxb1tEOxe1QOrAtKSbbqTzzfXRI19eODJ7Ii1bTnI_lzf0LXts8GHN5FeX9l8S8Nh7s2_7f2A_RR_uy7M4Nm_livPbAfyrX7lVq0MeVBDu-edvCbtcRQ7OcdTRkokN77ZKmHDAf8i5IPm2m8Unz9mkChGo8/w285-h368/pick%20pocket%20George%20Pruett.png" width="285" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Here's a photo of Raymond taken in 1941 when he was president of the Central High Alumni Association. He is the one in the middle, grinning while handing out an award. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9z_y8UeOu7OsKigyedc6Cg6GSNKTbVG5g-ICl2bef2_g1cHP3OlwcmJ8Yiw8uZyvsdSgh-ZPNVbqp9Z6iPw-PVX9ET2NYz2eW-TX7eWvhJpJJpVaJZBzKPWJfhYIMAvv3tHF5xxthe44PZPh71AYZ7lpsER4M-C7ccMFMUi204mh2CtCC4Vk/s1540/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-19%20at%208.34.40%20AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1228" data-original-width="1540" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9z_y8UeOu7OsKigyedc6Cg6GSNKTbVG5g-ICl2bef2_g1cHP3OlwcmJ8Yiw8uZyvsdSgh-ZPNVbqp9Z6iPw-PVX9ET2NYz2eW-TX7eWvhJpJJpVaJZBzKPWJfhYIMAvv3tHF5xxthe44PZPh71AYZ7lpsER4M-C7ccMFMUi204mh2CtCC4Vk/w422-h336/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-19%20at%208.34.40%20AM.png" width="422" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">George Senior died in 1943. He was buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Georgetown. Bessie followed him in 1948. Raymond inherited the home. Keeping it all o</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">n the block, he sold the house to the Wilsons who had been renting a room from the Fox family just down the street at 5429 Cathedral. Here's the ad from 1951:</span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7SAmnJx7MeHNKz_7ez4jULDs-JpXj_Td_sRsIGvsHee4iqw9Is6GOyflaO1EEGL3qD4EISPzr8ppAm2QOWHtwKd0urhN_fVdQ8SMgdZ6yUatWeGFulaDmGsre6Wrn-_FSib7SfsMzyd9IvyaP4f6_Rtd3KoBvs7QRyqslTsY6QzXAm8fTK4/s788/Jan%201951.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="590" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7SAmnJx7MeHNKz_7ez4jULDs-JpXj_Td_sRsIGvsHee4iqw9Is6GOyflaO1EEGL3qD4EISPzr8ppAm2QOWHtwKd0urhN_fVdQ8SMgdZ6yUatWeGFulaDmGsre6Wrn-_FSib7SfsMzyd9IvyaP4f6_Rtd3KoBvs7QRyqslTsY6QzXAm8fTK4/w300-h400/Jan%201951.jpeg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span>George Albert Wilson was born in 1896 and worked as a carpenter most of his life. He and his wife Sarah E Hood both grew up in rural Maryland near Mt Airy. The two married relatively late in life, in 1940. George was 43 and Sarah was 32 when t</span><span>hey moved into the Fox’s house as newlyweds. Sarah was working for the government as a stenographer.</span><span> </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Wilsons never had children, but both were active members of the Palisades Community Church. I </span>could<span style="font-family: inherit;"> only find one photo of them buried in this congregation shot in 1946. </span></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4hOnKpnF0VOQO5BbJOFTL37xk9VmLZGhdjKLQ3OhugEEKWo4JU9fvOquBFM54BhyOEIqWtffSdLHFN8LIXjZDiBhuC0EHu7H9VKnouu6Q4rU1nsRqw4NLGC2xZfg1QYjXJE_CjNzuuPUJ8Ojx_cBl-2nglY3f1zmzCyNGklrF_LIjQLJd4c/s556/IMG_7994.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="460" data-original-width="556" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4hOnKpnF0VOQO5BbJOFTL37xk9VmLZGhdjKLQ3OhugEEKWo4JU9fvOquBFM54BhyOEIqWtffSdLHFN8LIXjZDiBhuC0EHu7H9VKnouu6Q4rU1nsRqw4NLGC2xZfg1QYjXJE_CjNzuuPUJ8Ojx_cBl-2nglY3f1zmzCyNGklrF_LIjQLJd4c/s320/IMG_7994.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sarah was president of the church bowling league in the mid-1950s and </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">had an extensive rose garden. She also taught piano to neighborhood children. George died in 1973, but Sarah stayed in the house until 1990, a few years before her death in 1993. They were both buried in their home town, Mt Airy. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Here's a recipe from Sarah copied from a church cook book. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 23px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR76PqXXXIMcPjxB-VtRKH19rvCLyEDyerPp0_zCSWAN8X796z5ynXprQZ9rhJU_hyRCRMdv_oRR3QRYUc06JSGwLRW3pgLNqteAhrNkwmtoSOdcxAzdZ9cv0leTVJJ1td45wlX7bhoemTqH8FkNaRKWPlsVftUH7iIlc9HytOlfY2OcsjAdM/s3547/IMG_7200.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3547" data-original-width="2704" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR76PqXXXIMcPjxB-VtRKH19rvCLyEDyerPp0_zCSWAN8X796z5ynXprQZ9rhJU_hyRCRMdv_oRR3QRYUc06JSGwLRW3pgLNqteAhrNkwmtoSOdcxAzdZ9cv0leTVJJ1td45wlX7bhoemTqH8FkNaRKWPlsVftUH7iIlc9HytOlfY2OcsjAdM/w392-h514/IMG_7200.jpeg" width="392" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span>And here's another legacy from Sarah's time in the house- the azalea bush by the brick garage. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6me18e1Lq5l3Q_EBmwN0acMJWv0ooOxCDlm4GCMkDMEQM-I0QO14ubX3BM-ZMCyhAwlnBWGU5CylngSIND_H1mDsAtNsL_khDrJeWVUPo4lmhGOXQ78_OjFBPO6C71gO5p9JaZyk7vJi2l8MuK6c-kWcwqiTWOZMwDTYs4rLPSHdU4uVMCU/s3438/IMG_9214.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2264" data-original-width="3438" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6me18e1Lq5l3Q_EBmwN0acMJWv0ooOxCDlm4GCMkDMEQM-I0QO14ubX3BM-ZMCyhAwlnBWGU5CylngSIND_H1mDsAtNsL_khDrJeWVUPo4lmhGOXQ78_OjFBPO6C71gO5p9JaZyk7vJi2l8MuK6c-kWcwqiTWOZMwDTYs4rLPSHdU4uVMCU/w479-h316/IMG_9214.heic" width="479" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-141543374194423432022-04-19T07:57:00.003-04:002022-05-09T20:40:50.141-04:00All in the Rector Family <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_W1S4Fhwc7HjFUN3xTpB6pzLBdugndL5ah49Dzr7Sq1FSCnI2jEZ89umP2DxVhn4PaIzpPd8WQsKhXKmWc4KJ5aWndHYc7y9m6SuKNkCi2bQw_N7AqrZfFYv22UEjJU3lqIiGOGzTz1fgP0hqjC8pRzfFlun95NTqF0MsOjmzeodqvOEKShI=s3501" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3501" data-original-width="2910" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_W1S4Fhwc7HjFUN3xTpB6pzLBdugndL5ah49Dzr7Sq1FSCnI2jEZ89umP2DxVhn4PaIzpPd8WQsKhXKmWc4KJ5aWndHYc7y9m6SuKNkCi2bQw_N7AqrZfFYv22UEjJU3lqIiGOGzTz1fgP0hqjC8pRzfFlun95NTqF0MsOjmzeodqvOEKShI=w401-h482" width="401" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Early Breckenridge Rector was born in 1886 on a farm near Luray, Virginia. According to the Richmond Times Dispatch, he married Edna Campbell in 1908, and their honeymoon was an "an extended tour of northern cities.” By 1910 Early and Edna were living with Early’s older brother Charles and his family on H Street in Washington, DC. Early became a streetcar conductor, but he also worked in his brother's cigar shop which would lead him to his next career.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><span> Early, and another older brother, Carey, formed a construction business by 1922. They called their enterprise, simply enough, The Rector Brothers. One of their first projects was building two store fronts at 5441 and 5443 MacArthur Boulevard (or Conduit Road as it was known in those days.) The newly formed Potomac Heights Community Church first met </span></span><span>as a pop-up</span><span> at 5441 in January 1923 before the store officially opened in May. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Early and Edna ran a combo deli and market in the 5441 space, and a hardware store next door at 5443. </span><span>He added gas pumps to the hardware store by 1923 and rebuilt both of his buildings in 1932. </span><span>To get an idea of what the market had to offer, here’s a list of stolen goods from an article in the Washington Post on March 11,1927.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">“Smashing a plate glass window, thieves gained entrance to the store of Early B Rector…and made off with $200 in cigars, $50 in cigarettes, $10 in candy, $7 worth of soaps and a quantity of shoestrings, pencils, chewing gum, beads and phonograph needles.” </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Today Chu's Cleaners occupies the old gas station and DC Boathouse was in the store space.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTSSoyYCgjxU-yiQ2rDYhl_1DfRAZw6lMPRMSvRRa1QClzCtt6_u3ZKhykw3bErtdG05q-20JWDwe9z8jOyAn17vdoDFoWkZgI0m532qKetsVXFht5IRNTrqBD16JOxk6SyX5ynfKJCJ_Q5RJJCZhkOm-wSkb9Xsn6qUWHQtpZ-KsoaENRRls=s781" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="781" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTSSoyYCgjxU-yiQ2rDYhl_1DfRAZw6lMPRMSvRRa1QClzCtt6_u3ZKhykw3bErtdG05q-20JWDwe9z8jOyAn17vdoDFoWkZgI0m532qKetsVXFht5IRNTrqBD16JOxk6SyX5ynfKJCJ_Q5RJJCZhkOm-wSkb9Xsn6qUWHQtpZ-KsoaENRRls=w442-h362" width="442" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Early also bought two lots on Cathedral Avenue in 1925. He built a house for himself at 5411 in 1926, and the brick house next door to himself at 5409 seven years later in 1933. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixGJZHKp4TOZMCfVy5gXXuIoee4mUTf0BfXEbHWrSUzvGSxZe0DNtsslbgQ1aO0LZU7zLXoYara69gvCnwDTDzdvy35SHuYOwcJMCMuzFHFzECJTcBE2qMnXK1KJZNAO-H_9Rnxup7NAZ97vgw6mDeCddFCjgJ2mxanUMGqw-D-TvXHS1Z03k=s3754" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2507" data-original-width="3754" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixGJZHKp4TOZMCfVy5gXXuIoee4mUTf0BfXEbHWrSUzvGSxZe0DNtsslbgQ1aO0LZU7zLXoYara69gvCnwDTDzdvy35SHuYOwcJMCMuzFHFzECJTcBE2qMnXK1KJZNAO-H_9Rnxup7NAZ97vgw6mDeCddFCjgJ2mxanUMGqw-D-TvXHS1Z03k=w531-h355" width="531" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">This home was kept as a rental property for about 40 years. The first tenants were Max Kossoris, his wife Esther, and their son Peter. Max was born in Russia in 1902 and eventually became a senior statistician at the Department of Labor where he worked to prevent industrial accidents. The Kossoris shared the home, perhaps by subletting, with an elderly couple, Jerry and Edith Kirby. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Meanwhile not a mile down Conduit Road towards F.S. Key School, Early's brother Carey built a</span><span> similar deli/market at 5105, and another store front at 5107 in 1928,</span><span> plus a gas station at 5101 in 1933</span><span>. All of the buildings have been renovated, especially the former gas station on the corner, but you can see the other two store fronts were once identical. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9zxpLnLt3IwRQqifwZvW3UK2OxBSNDd0PrgAAED21tzHtF1_aFp_59LEdnm8SBnQa5xkZPm4f1Fz3RhwFBPmBLdzYuXJYITLYTN3pM-iZis8oOB-oTBEMs3M23K3X7inxkQ_646-02QMTIIqHfYdr-nxi9JvoH1V9MtqSC8M2T1t-fynwNA/s3849/IMG_8996.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2267" data-original-width="3849" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9zxpLnLt3IwRQqifwZvW3UK2OxBSNDd0PrgAAED21tzHtF1_aFp_59LEdnm8SBnQa5xkZPm4f1Fz3RhwFBPmBLdzYuXJYITLYTN3pM-iZis8oOB-oTBEMs3M23K3X7inxkQ_646-02QMTIIqHfYdr-nxi9JvoH1V9MtqSC8M2T1t-fynwNA/w576-h338/IMG_8996.jpeg" width="576" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">After Prohibition ended in 1933, both Rector brothers attempted to get liquor licenses for their establishments in 1934. The neighborhood quickly shot this idea down. One location was too close to the Palisades Community Church, and the other was too close to Key Elementary School. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Carey and his wife, Zula moved here and ran the shop from 1927 until they both retired in 1943. Zula died in 1959 and Carey in 1960. I wonder if they built this addition on the back of 5107?</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihwusvFGx2cOKvk-eN0dAev-CgWDG1gelc2ANOoYz8ahca2QuIo-mXXhzBO3qXV0Kg4ZPIbi_3QOm56l87oQwFrbCfsIasfCpTb-YVcVbVkbtraAGAIX0G8jcQewC5mRXcwPz4VScJP-5ae5VS3-xVyR8kGfqQScmgAK1J89bP00f07yvnuuo=s3588" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2424" data-original-width="3588" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihwusvFGx2cOKvk-eN0dAev-CgWDG1gelc2ANOoYz8ahca2QuIo-mXXhzBO3qXV0Kg4ZPIbi_3QOm56l87oQwFrbCfsIasfCpTb-YVcVbVkbtraAGAIX0G8jcQewC5mRXcwPz4VScJP-5ae5VS3-xVyR8kGfqQScmgAK1J89bP00f07yvnuuo=w428-h289" width="428" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Early and Edna Rector also lived in the neighborhood until the end of their lives. They never had children. Early died at home in July 1973, and Edna died two years later. The two homes on Cathedral Avenue were left to Edna’s nieces and nephews. The heirs sold the rental property, but the house at 5411 stayed in the family for many years. Barbara, one of Edna's nieces, bought the family home with her husband Les Allison and lived here until Les retired in 1994. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaTY7_-hffU_oLtuPT-PRGRKTgbHMibn0xQ3yCYDA57c1Gh4CF7wOX8SwtsNhoNlQMpoXFN9Sit9JC_AQNHJb6iSxi2csTd4GyMvWK7LKdGUP7SKePNn9o8neDnwfBDzstAZWJQB9Vby4XOf8CxmfvgTJhadFv9-cznnbnitALPIxxOVK6C0/s2083/IMG_7569%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="2083" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaTY7_-hffU_oLtuPT-PRGRKTgbHMibn0xQ3yCYDA57c1Gh4CF7wOX8SwtsNhoNlQMpoXFN9Sit9JC_AQNHJb6iSxi2csTd4GyMvWK7LKdGUP7SKePNn9o8neDnwfBDzstAZWJQB9Vby4XOf8CxmfvgTJhadFv9-cznnbnitALPIxxOVK6C0/w556-h222/IMG_7569%202.jpeg" width="556" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Ad from 1929 church bulletin</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-14502309163422351502022-04-18T09:20:00.004-04:002022-04-18T22:57:26.059-04:00Glen Echo and the Finlon House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip8QLa_lnR9MqYUYGA9UBB1m2sPtQDd0C3CX99EOu6eFzsEB0x7jCq28ko0-rXARkyNzXVMph5ICwWD4OMbSIwtG0k135UVK0InjkCJB6RVqUZjgK65J4Z9LXJMEtfCZYL7iglAwOi43Bg4wE_JCUcvQJEPHRHUT1jvv5Hwn1SLljAvdY2qE/s2260/5419%20CAthedral.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2063" data-original-width="2260" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip8QLa_lnR9MqYUYGA9UBB1m2sPtQDd0C3CX99EOu6eFzsEB0x7jCq28ko0-rXARkyNzXVMph5ICwWD4OMbSIwtG0k135UVK0InjkCJB6RVqUZjgK65J4Z9LXJMEtfCZYL7iglAwOi43Bg4wE_JCUcvQJEPHRHUT1jvv5Hwn1SLljAvdY2qE/w416-h379/5419%20CAthedral.jpeg" width="416" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">Frank Matthew Finlon was born in October 1878 in Carbondale, Pennsylvania. His parents were Irish immigrants, and his father was a watchman. In 1900, Frank still lived at home, and was working as a carpenter for the railroad. He married Theresa “Tessie” Buckley in 1903 when they were both 25 years old. The groom planned to work in the mines as a carpenter, but his luck changed. Instead he became the first manager of Luna Amusement Park in Scranton. Because of his work experience, he may have been hired to construct a mini railway when they were building the park in 1906. In the 1910 census, the Finlons were still living in Scranton and had three small children: Genevieve, Harold and Eleanor. </span></div>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The family moved to Maryland in 1911 when Frank became the construction manager of Glen Echo Amusement Park. He was a very busy man building and designing both rides and structures around the park. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeRI0qpsIgLZGbjzdgBV-x7OZBKwozenO46IE5P8yG1ayKCaKj9aBlU7jBqe0WWlExPYz6gSWCswvCtkEqggS5QDn2EpvhdbU3InXf1u7l62qwCLGMECrrzshaGVPXIXnOup7MisNYZDYo2fli5YfJlNv-4-yU2FjLnB72itQvemu6QPef6k/s1200/glen%20echo%20:finlon.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1200" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeRI0qpsIgLZGbjzdgBV-x7OZBKwozenO46IE5P8yG1ayKCaKj9aBlU7jBqe0WWlExPYz6gSWCswvCtkEqggS5QDn2EpvhdbU3InXf1u7l62qwCLGMECrrzshaGVPXIXnOup7MisNYZDYo2fli5YfJlNv-4-yU2FjLnB72itQvemu6QPef6k/w489-h433/glen%20echo%20:finlon.jpeg" width="489" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">May 1913 ad in Washington Times</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I found the paragraph below in a Park Service history of Glen Echo.</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">"In 1925 the Glen Echo amusement park Dance Pavilion is converted into the Crystal Ballroom, whose 7,500 square-foot maple floor is believed to have been retained from the earlier structure built in 1911 and wholly upgraded in 1921. The ceiling, made by amusement park superintendent Finlon and his wife, is of a lattice frame covered by a fine silk cloth.” </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Frank also built the housing for the Dentzel Carousel which is the only ride still operating in the park today.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_guKyiCk2QuijQViPlRMUuQ2CeyThJWrx8meTLamhqR4Jbb7i49OxXwqrOVN06mwGCEBqvXy58q_MPWGF5vCShEucEhnC5ol1tAB8P8GIl51RvRbxX_ILHBinjF1kT8V4ljR6Kuxqs8g1bkm78n2gsdqaU8lqsz08-lbFbvvthknZkZ68Oqw/s1404/glen%20echo%20carousel%201925.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="988" data-original-width="1404" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_guKyiCk2QuijQViPlRMUuQ2CeyThJWrx8meTLamhqR4Jbb7i49OxXwqrOVN06mwGCEBqvXy58q_MPWGF5vCShEucEhnC5ol1tAB8P8GIl51RvRbxX_ILHBinjF1kT8V4ljR6Kuxqs8g1bkm78n2gsdqaU8lqsz08-lbFbvvthknZkZ68Oqw/w468-h329/glen%20echo%20carousel%201925.png" width="468" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Glen Echo 1925</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Quite the leap from Carbondale.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRyBY9XNNhkqh7zgQ_tghSOlO6ng4_ACP1cQgM4pUa3P87cMRHzHSIHXDiAXVqHfCRGJ88G0ws6wsfnUu1wbkb_d15I7SGYbn5Vgqn2lG8iszh-K5zzQZ4FKibN9dZHUBKJKglNPRvscP8aYtv5SjuRe8mbWhGwC80nH2zLM1ibpE4NymC_gU/s858/c1900%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="858" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRyBY9XNNhkqh7zgQ_tghSOlO6ng4_ACP1cQgM4pUa3P87cMRHzHSIHXDiAXVqHfCRGJ88G0ws6wsfnUu1wbkb_d15I7SGYbn5Vgqn2lG8iszh-K5zzQZ4FKibN9dZHUBKJKglNPRvscP8aYtv5SjuRe8mbWhGwC80nH2zLM1ibpE4NymC_gU/w532-h397/c1900%202.png" width="532" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The family lived a bit of a fairy tale life making their home on the second and third floors of the Chautauqua tower which was built in 1891. They lived there from about 1911 until 1925. Their last child, Clare was born in 1913. In 1914, the shake shingle roof caught fire, but luckily no one was hurt. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">I wonder if the bustle of the place was getting to Frank by 1924. According to a mention in the Evening Star, when he was asked what he thought of the new chimes of the nearby Epiphany Church, he replied "I can't hear a thing you say on account of those damn bells."</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In 1926, Frank escaped “those damn bells.” He went into the building business and started with a large home he built for himself at 5419 Cathedral Avenue. All four of his offspring were still living at home when the family moved in: Genevieve was 20, Harold was 19, Eleanor, 17, and Clair was 16. Three out of four of the “children” were still living on Cathedral 14 years later in 1940. Eleanor, the go-getter, had married John Beamer around 1937, but all of the other siblings married late in life. The oldest son, Harold, continued to work at Glen Echo until he joined the Navy during WW2. </span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Frank probably never retired. He worked in the building business for about a decade, but the amusement parks drew him back. He helped rebuild the Chesapeake Beach, and managed Tolchester Park near Rock Hall, Maryland for the last five years of his life. He fell ill and died at home in February 1942 at the age of 62 and was buried at Cedar Hill Cemetery. By 1950, all of his children had finally married and probably moved out. Tessie died in 1963 and was buried with Frank. She still lived on Cathedral Ave.</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p>
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<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Addendum:</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Harold Finlon followed in his father’s footsteps and worked at both Glen Echo and later in Chesapeake Beach. He married the love of his life, Mildred Garland in about 1943. Mildred was also a fan of amusement parks, and had many fond memories of summers in Chesapeake Beach. where her father had built 6 cottages in 1922. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyrPMNcjItP6N3wmfUQmOnNXOG2LBRch3SyoNV-Hxd-qxIPpQTw69IFDes1cJtowFuCJSXeltz2XGsFsNP5GiQhdMXyNhpCdV4nwPKgauSct6qzd471Y9uArJtHOlu13jNMKNEkTdQAOb1xMkmi1dXWASUmZ-cdMgzkVtz43G1A7PwF8PoZ4/s744/chesapeakebeach_327m.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="744" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyrPMNcjItP6N3wmfUQmOnNXOG2LBRch3SyoNV-Hxd-qxIPpQTw69IFDes1cJtowFuCJSXeltz2XGsFsNP5GiQhdMXyNhpCdV4nwPKgauSct6qzd471Y9uArJtHOlu13jNMKNEkTdQAOb1xMkmi1dXWASUmZ-cdMgzkVtz43G1A7PwF8PoZ4/w399-h315/chesapeakebeach_327m.jpg" width="399" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span></p>In 1948, Harold quit his job with the Navy and became the superintendent of Chesapeake Beach's amusement park. </span></span><span>Harold and Mildred had two sons, Harold Jr or “Finny” and Allen. Like their father, both boys were raised in an amusement park, and for many years, children gained free admission to the park on Finny’s birthday,</span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Harold died in 1969, and the park closed in 1972. The park's Dentzel carousel was taken down, but Mildred rescued one of the kangaroos and kept it in her basement. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Mildred was a power house. She worked as a public school teacher in Washington DC for many years before she married Harold, and also in Calvert County where she was an early advocate for integrated schools. She was also a founder of the Chesapeake Railway Museum where she donated her kangaroo. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJK_8voPS9-_DmnvhJMfovcLMWxa8hVcR_TY_IPYClDyM2YdWm1zqJgK7sTtqDr3xaQ9QKcn4lEHmn8j9SmogDyUb2TYStVt8LjjH2VjtMkFWYZdtESXc4I_IIxQoPqkGh4oHZEo-SGv7rOC7yhRCESlC_4kFBNchKWjeHh5zEZhjfVOiW4c/s750/02_DESTINATION_-Mildred_Finlon.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="534" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJK_8voPS9-_DmnvhJMfovcLMWxa8hVcR_TY_IPYClDyM2YdWm1zqJgK7sTtqDr3xaQ9QKcn4lEHmn8j9SmogDyUb2TYStVt8LjjH2VjtMkFWYZdtESXc4I_IIxQoPqkGh4oHZEo-SGv7rOC7yhRCESlC_4kFBNchKWjeHh5zEZhjfVOiW4c/s320/02_DESTINATION_-Mildred_Finlon.jpeg" width="228" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
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<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-76730558483398521242022-04-02T08:17:00.000-04:002022-04-02T08:17:11.999-04:00 Full House<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21.3px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGL9LfSNk8nkvLdBbVZlT3JRClGoaS3VrTIDfZzadqfXzF9uYvzCrXya2rWJkwWYZLoZQs1bMCB44mcU-eUGedxEn2eTVRnat_67Bkm2TnaJXHVmkQCqlJD65ncThDnUNX6fCOf7GIpCC3t0ItcxfiU9pyzX1esYhrdeLM8Rsgi8Aw5CnR-BQ/s3820/5415.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2758" data-original-width="3820" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGL9LfSNk8nkvLdBbVZlT3JRClGoaS3VrTIDfZzadqfXzF9uYvzCrXya2rWJkwWYZLoZQs1bMCB44mcU-eUGedxEn2eTVRnat_67Bkm2TnaJXHVmkQCqlJD65ncThDnUNX6fCOf7GIpCC3t0ItcxfiU9pyzX1esYhrdeLM8Rsgi8Aw5CnR-BQ/w491-h354/5415.jpeg" width="491" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">This beautiful “semi” bungalow at 5415 Cathedral was built with Number One Pine in 1922, perhaps by its first owner John A. Rhine who was a carpenter by trade. John Augustus Rhine was born in Mechanicsville, Maryland in 1876. His father Augustus Rhine, was a blacksmith. John and his wife Florence married in 1897 in DC, but lived in the nearby Arlington and Mt Rainier before buying the property on Cathedral Ave.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"> In 1930, the Rhine’s adult daughters Beulah and Edith, plus their daughters' families lived there as well. John Rhine, now 54, was working as a carpenter. Beulah’s husband John Padgett was an electrician, and they had two little girls- Virginia and Dorothy. Edith’s husband Elmer Smallwood was working as a milkman while she stayed home with Elmer Jr age 2. Their daughter Gladys came along in 1932. Perhaps it was the Depression that drove them all under one roof. The Rhines tried to sell the house for several years. Here’s an ad from 1929.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBUkTSbQxjjoDB_LwdCuTyWk8XnmXYSBwUd1GU4Q7bumc5y-j185b9NSayyuQsZrZ7QdoZV5SC7p_5Ls85lSumM5BANAAWNGqGV4p5W-8TdRrjKrZGVG2ISrOph2z7GWzPfPExmg0AWEVJPtwO8AU5I9k7vXfFR782Apwsnawrpd-7G2zOdg/s1516/5415%20ad%201929%20Eve%20sta.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="1516" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBUkTSbQxjjoDB_LwdCuTyWk8XnmXYSBwUd1GU4Q7bumc5y-j185b9NSayyuQsZrZ7QdoZV5SC7p_5Ls85lSumM5BANAAWNGqGV4p5W-8TdRrjKrZGVG2ISrOph2z7GWzPfPExmg0AWEVJPtwO8AU5I9k7vXfFR782Apwsnawrpd-7G2zOdg/w536-h120/5415 ad 1929 Eve sta.jpg" width="536" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">In 1935 the house finally sold to Nellie Hogan, a single working woman. Nellie was born on a farm in Natural Bridge, Virginia in 1883. Both of her parents were born in Virginia and were descendants of Irish immigrants. The Hogans were a large, close knit family, and Nellie was the third of eight children. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">By 1910, Nellie had moved to DC and was living with her uncle Michael. In 1922 there’s a mention in the newspaper of a Miss Nellie Hogan being a registered nurse at Georgetown Hospital, and I believe this is how she made her living. I can’t find Nellie in the 1930 census, but in 1940 she was listed as a nurse working in a public hospital. She also rented rooms to supplement her income. In 1940, two other families lived at 5415 including a young couple from the midwest, Jack Winkler, a butcher, and his young wife Irma, plus Frederick Bolton, a “medical instructor,”his wife Jessie, and their teenage daughter Constance. Here’s an ad from 1937.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikerPxNoiXAEOmn6XcIWwV10gLdPrjiD9a7s2hDLGQQR2nUNJA3STYen8HYwkfTCjvkQr3H_n3RJzc0kUmqYRzyuYNmbZTIxoQTIFYczDbQFcgJrVSTj6MwBI_H-xfuR_JyLbCWRf8akh8emoGSJ484FD6rRyOj9oHGfFzDn5-2OxqkoGgApI/s663/5415%20ad%20for%20rent%20eve.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="147" data-original-width="663" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikerPxNoiXAEOmn6XcIWwV10gLdPrjiD9a7s2hDLGQQR2nUNJA3STYen8HYwkfTCjvkQr3H_n3RJzc0kUmqYRzyuYNmbZTIxoQTIFYczDbQFcgJrVSTj6MwBI_H-xfuR_JyLbCWRf8akh8emoGSJ484FD6rRyOj9oHGfFzDn5-2OxqkoGgApI/w496-h110/5415 ad for rent eve.jpg" width="496" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In 1945 Nellie’s sister Mary also moved in while studying at Catholic University to be a nurse. Nellie died in 1958 “suddenly” at home. She was 75 years old, and she left the home to her siblings. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqe6chxPCG7Q-BgUNYkF-qihsNMWd2M7YXH-0iUbJkwbM0fRLQ_GpU6lx5Rswu8TUhAWlsJc9xm7OKvp2PW6VFY8goPS9DpfQpZkIdCN5u7e1TgFxaC3Nr0BkZDD9wQR8mLZyUin5Tg5XMPp99zGWLBtXy1m8MnDqIitW8HegL6tnGztswOM/s638/5415:%20nellie%20obit%20star%201958.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="638" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqe6chxPCG7Q-BgUNYkF-qihsNMWd2M7YXH-0iUbJkwbM0fRLQ_GpU6lx5Rswu8TUhAWlsJc9xm7OKvp2PW6VFY8goPS9DpfQpZkIdCN5u7e1TgFxaC3Nr0BkZDD9wQR8mLZyUin5Tg5XMPp99zGWLBtXy1m8MnDqIitW8HegL6tnGztswOM/w401-h148/5415: nellie obit star 1958.png" width="401" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-34146979805345653372022-03-31T08:36:00.001-04:002022-03-31T08:38:10.591-04:00A Ready Made Bungalow<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83I5I6-MPohRycqk1DaBcVqKvtyVRpqTYAPVUZJlJ4lazl___y9mpQhdAO45ZRV445VtLCbU7k7MhAHMp5uplrjWZuI2Qb90_tWXWjHb-wU_FTrpsYHuYW_Q-WxoIp8wzETE7pM04vRiSOBUZIbFGslGlLhe4BVZht6POTAzRVKIg8h3kX1M/s3353/26F90A84-8481-42E9-AF99-3E07A1C35C2B_1_201_a.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2651" data-original-width="3353" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83I5I6-MPohRycqk1DaBcVqKvtyVRpqTYAPVUZJlJ4lazl___y9mpQhdAO45ZRV445VtLCbU7k7MhAHMp5uplrjWZuI2Qb90_tWXWjHb-wU_FTrpsYHuYW_Q-WxoIp8wzETE7pM04vRiSOBUZIbFGslGlLhe4BVZht6POTAzRVKIg8h3kX1M/w480-h380/26F90A84-8481-42E9-AF99-3E07A1C35C2B_1_201_a.heic" width="480" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></p>This Sears kit bungalow on the corner of Cathedral and Carolina was built in 1922, the same year that Sears opened a model home store on 10th Street NW. Kit homes started popping all over Potomac Heights. </span><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiog3dmM0e80nggwyb0fTCkfdScrECMgSGc1TqMmRzbG3b-ootv3A8mk5yBHymifRxUcCNr1JHTeFigTDryM89UuK83K-apgsG71pHYXDgJNDEwsQpfiElnfOQGCqKWgTKW3hL8iHbts5Jxv7JSFTzj2_ysFvOh7XuJlRR-_Hv9cjJ2xRHrcfo/s842/Sears%20ready%20cut%20homes%201922.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="694" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiog3dmM0e80nggwyb0fTCkfdScrECMgSGc1TqMmRzbG3b-ootv3A8mk5yBHymifRxUcCNr1JHTeFigTDryM89UuK83K-apgsG71pHYXDgJNDEwsQpfiElnfOQGCqKWgTKW3hL8iHbts5Jxv7JSFTzj2_ysFvOh7XuJlRR-_Hv9cjJ2xRHrcfo/s320/Sears%20ready%20cut%20homes%201922.jpeg" width="264" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">The house first belonged to Albert J and Susie Kegal. Albert was born in Holland in 1873. He came to the US when he was eight years old with his parents Martin and Johanna. They settled in Milwaukee, and in 1896, Albert married a Wisconsin girl, Susie Kampe.</span></div><div><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_QKp3tukSsvIDDnNL2s_mincBQCXMYe7DJSixUgLYWPXaZnE4Fihs7Li-aR1Z9qI-kclWIj2YkgFilK-dmz1GYMTLivm7fASYqIEAd8z-Dv4HmtwKJYP5IonDQCkmJBijnz2xXa6x_cjpKXN27boNOSGB6uKcTX-6kwI9blrnuAhxO8lQNA/s924/Suzie%20Kampe%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="714" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_QKp3tukSsvIDDnNL2s_mincBQCXMYe7DJSixUgLYWPXaZnE4Fihs7Li-aR1Z9qI-kclWIj2YkgFilK-dmz1GYMTLivm7fASYqIEAd8z-Dv4HmtwKJYP5IonDQCkmJBijnz2xXa6x_cjpKXN27boNOSGB6uKcTX-6kwI9blrnuAhxO8lQNA/w295-h382/Suzie%20Kampe%202.jpg" width="295" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suzie Kampe</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Albert worked as a pressman all of his life, and Suzie was a homemaker. In 1900, the couple adopted a baby boy and named him Earle Martin. When Earle was about 20, the family moved to Washington, DC. Albert got a job at the printing office and rented a place until he could afford the new house on Cathedral Avenue in 1922. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> That same year in June, Earle married Gladys Steel. Both families lived together in the Cathedral house for about 20 years during which time Earle remarried. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Times; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">In the 1930 census Earle and Gladys have a one year old son named Martin. Earle was working as a car salesman. Albert was still employed as a pressman, and Suzie was very active in the Potomac Heights Community Church which often had fun and crazy fundraisers like this one - an all woman, cross-dressing wedding.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUG8pkPd7HAAP5XS5D9GlJRspkKIX5NZp9Y_Zv3mSrEN0kiia7WE-NQr_ui1PZsZQhcbRDHGZfVFZEmxxHzaBWcglQHMZ69voPKF18AsUQmdu7maIZt3kN9KRaZv_FWth0SdBRyAuSJctTImm8FxfJHZ2WA8AEeoZb73b3glWOH67ccv_M8o/s1906/IMG_7952%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1323" data-original-width="1906" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUG8pkPd7HAAP5XS5D9GlJRspkKIX5NZp9Y_Zv3mSrEN0kiia7WE-NQr_ui1PZsZQhcbRDHGZfVFZEmxxHzaBWcglQHMZ69voPKF18AsUQmdu7maIZt3kN9KRaZv_FWth0SdBRyAuSJctTImm8FxfJHZ2WA8AEeoZb73b3glWOH67ccv_M8o/w562-h389/IMG_7952%202.jpeg" width="562" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suzie front row, second from right </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By the late 1930s. Earle had married a neighbor, Mary Hill, who was living on Hawthorne Place. I'm not sure what happened to Gladys, but Earle, Mary, young Martin and a new baby, Mary Elizabeth, all were living with Albert and Suzie according to the 1940 census. </span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That same year, on an extra cold day in January, eleven year old Martin made the papers when he and his friend Don Custard fell through the ice into the canal while trying to walk under Chain Bridge. Martin could swim and was able to get out and run for help, stopping traffic on Canal Road. James Cox, one of the firemen who came to the scene, also fell through the ice, on his first attempt, but eventually was able to get Don out by throwing him a rope. </span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmGHq8m8g6E5lTD6tOvbe6_mFSAA414KaQEYseBqYG3uviG0b_52Ofk7kvmGVl7gR1EsIk8xPqDGIvviFkOs3FkBBhut7fEglJsJzkYOFDq8ihmotnsX6cKZxAUz3FGBRQE0bKpSKJ9R4cgr-r3M6sHTbB0Hk4b4cNSCGpAV_KPPU1oDT2qKA/s1701/photos%20Don%20Cystard%20M.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1701" data-original-width="1292" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmGHq8m8g6E5lTD6tOvbe6_mFSAA414KaQEYseBqYG3uviG0b_52Ofk7kvmGVl7gR1EsIk8xPqDGIvviFkOs3FkBBhut7fEglJsJzkYOFDq8ihmotnsX6cKZxAUz3FGBRQE0bKpSKJ9R4cgr-r3M6sHTbB0Hk4b4cNSCGpAV_KPPU1oDT2qKA/w382-h502/photos%20Don%20Cystard%20M.jpg" width="382" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 23px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 23px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Don, who lived across the street from Martin, survived without ill effects even though he was in the freezing water for a half hour. Later in life, Don joined the Marines and died on active duty in Korea in 1951. Martin came out unscathed, but their hero, James Cox was hit by a car the next day on Canal Rd while discussing the rescue. Both of his legs were broken.<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Earl and Mary moved to 5618 Conduit Rd by 1942 according to his draft registration, but Susie and Albert stayed in the house until the end of their lives. Susie died in 1948 and Albert died a few years later in 1952. The house was left to Earl, and he sold it soon after his father died.</span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRCb0s5nbIjc1zxrRqONB81r2T6tg1KwR_pENn4XNfiqkXs9NL1C12aT7Cu9GtrOWaZdL0KYS4KpDHMIyGw7UiwJ0BZSoCnp-O92hBjqS0GGbDP8WVJa4sS3WakmsvmvCKMnznnPYu_cfKionnkeQgiOzB00UQxJioWb_KCWsIStSF1_Go5w/s1378/Albert%20and%20Suzie%20before%201948.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1378" data-original-width="1034" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRCb0s5nbIjc1zxrRqONB81r2T6tg1KwR_pENn4XNfiqkXs9NL1C12aT7Cu9GtrOWaZdL0KYS4KpDHMIyGw7UiwJ0BZSoCnp-O92hBjqS0GGbDP8WVJa4sS3WakmsvmvCKMnznnPYu_cfKionnkeQgiOzB00UQxJioWb_KCWsIStSF1_Go5w/w382-h510/Albert%20and%20Suzie%20before%201948.jpg" width="382" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Albert and Suzie in the yard of 5423</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-49774609728757869732022-03-22T08:57:00.001-04:002022-04-16T08:25:06.810-04:00The Cutler House<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1dIXNZLHBAx1kLuxiqoMoGiWh_QpXOus_ZgBoeWKpYoalPFGwG_HBl6MJsAQ52K87eH6S0nbAkEEHB3Rmq62sBcoM74sBRSTvSOeNmWwVVS7bTcbUDSnOV3ycfe7d1VjJwCgmpFXXhGjm3MMOpV6DCc-XxPlxpUi0yVSuSJYu86-dy7Cj5U/s3208/IMG_6977%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3208" data-original-width="2791" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1dIXNZLHBAx1kLuxiqoMoGiWh_QpXOus_ZgBoeWKpYoalPFGwG_HBl6MJsAQ52K87eH6S0nbAkEEHB3Rmq62sBcoM74sBRSTvSOeNmWwVVS7bTcbUDSnOV3ycfe7d1VjJwCgmpFXXhGjm3MMOpV6DCc-XxPlxpUi0yVSuSJYu86-dy7Cj5U/w328-h378/IMG_6977 2.jpeg" width="328" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">Howard Cutler, born in 1883, might be most famous for designing the Kodak Tower in Rochester, New York, but here in Washington DC, his architecture is found all over town including the Masonic temple in Silver Spring, Bethesda Chevy Chase High School, and St Andrew’s Church in College Park. He also designed the unassuming but handsome home at 5404 Cathedral Avenue. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The first owner, William Franklin Young, was born on a farm in 1860 in Fairfax Virginia- just before the Civil War. He moved to DC by 1889 and married Sina V. Collins relatively late in life. He was 30, and she was 26. I found them in the 1900 census renting a house in DC and living with their three children- Ruth,Thomas, and Calvin. The census listed Sina as a house inspector, and William was a carpenter. The family wanders a bit in the next twenty years. In 1910, they were living in Fairfax. In 1920, they moved to Miami, Florida, but then William bought the lot on Cathedral Ave in 1923 and built the house in 1926 when he was 67 years old. Was he unhappy in Florida? Or was it an investment? In any case the house went on the market starting in 1927 according to this ad in the Evening Star.<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbZ53m8L1SnT4xJrLs8XlNaB0uYmn0DYPs7S150MBnGUgFCL5rohoOD2rCjOo2EFOdvepnFv1Rqkthr6aC0IzUVcs4lP3X7T5TIulTBjPwM_AAkJfmshoaLEq5LgC4jDHQp0AI1hxZHkayT4fLXmpoy58ayZ7stIWYbYQUl9423vet3XoD4A/s554/5404%20eve%20star%201927.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="190" data-original-width="554" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbZ53m8L1SnT4xJrLs8XlNaB0uYmn0DYPs7S150MBnGUgFCL5rohoOD2rCjOo2EFOdvepnFv1Rqkthr6aC0IzUVcs4lP3X7T5TIulTBjPwM_AAkJfmshoaLEq5LgC4jDHQp0AI1hxZHkayT4fLXmpoy58ayZ7stIWYbYQUl9423vet3XoD4A/w496-h171/5404 eve star 1927.jpeg" width="496" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The house didn’t sell. Maybe the Depression was partly to blame. In the 1930 census, the Youngs were all living on Cathedral Ave. Their son Calvin, now 37, still lived at home. Calvin was a steamfitter. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p>
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<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"> In 1932 The Youngs left Calvin behind and moved back to Florida. They finally sold the house in 1934 to David and Grace Rogerson, a young couple with three boys. David Jr, Chester, and William. David supported the family by working in the dairy industry, I found this little clipping on Dec 25, 1940 in the Evening Star. (Weaver Place is now called Arizona Avene)</span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPumMRrdxj9l-Uo_NHGZ5EENtAZgAAELr8sCmsDRxf27oU2lb0m0C3t3REG2Ib33cjNei3KNmRucXInifkY5RZBeZc6ZEBmr-6pVITrvey03D-cjMDwxNhzwtrZRDxWoH8Q0n9QvYoDiPe_rj34wBVWZ_kWevQCwveTt-AEN6OIikHuGnS1w/s790/5404%20cyclist%20Dec%2025%201940%20.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="382" data-original-width="790" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPumMRrdxj9l-Uo_NHGZ5EENtAZgAAELr8sCmsDRxf27oU2lb0m0C3t3REG2Ib33cjNei3KNmRucXInifkY5RZBeZc6ZEBmr-6pVITrvey03D-cjMDwxNhzwtrZRDxWoH8Q0n9QvYoDiPe_rj34wBVWZ_kWevQCwveTt-AEN6OIikHuGnS1w/s320/5404%20cyclist%20Dec%2025%201940%20.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span>Poor Chester...I wonder if he got the bike for Christmas?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1946, the couple divorced. David moved to Baltimore and remarried while Grace stayed in the home with the boys. In the 1950s, Grace joined the bowling league at Palisades church. The boys went to Wilson High School and afterwards, David Jr joined the military. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_-96ilC1TqS4WWuHz6zrhO0IzcxM91RQ7WvM4lXd-5BEzapdYkt_RYdhlYYllIHi6cZPVGNYTruqjMcakpiQG3uq8xJ4hkw3hWrtlrlF_a6tEv3vaGE_3MSvBhW-W_MHijkv0_vBUAmtadIW2OaMmmL2-5mQv1l60BJH7Jzzw2gOXACw9EE/s1238/5404%20:stqr%201952.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1238" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_-96ilC1TqS4WWuHz6zrhO0IzcxM91RQ7WvM4lXd-5BEzapdYkt_RYdhlYYllIHi6cZPVGNYTruqjMcakpiQG3uq8xJ4hkw3hWrtlrlF_a6tEv3vaGE_3MSvBhW-W_MHijkv0_vBUAmtadIW2OaMmmL2-5mQv1l60BJH7Jzzw2gOXACw9EE/w371-h246/5404 :stqr 1952.jpeg" width="371" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Grace sold the house in 1962 to Ruth Olsen and Marguerite Roney who were living there when I moved onto the block. The "bluestone finish" had been inexplicably painted black by then which, I imagine, set Howard Cutler to rolling in his grave. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p>
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<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-56741737643646344362022-03-10T09:08:00.013-05:002022-04-20T14:38:34.476-04:00The Oldest House on the Block<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 18.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiB_6wJ55cSxsLKBDNeT3OLXO-wuSCPT-F8hTnZQJsx_vIM5VzWn-W4d7ktUvRZz43ltSdeBfPPL2kw9_V1jqUU18_ZMXYBLaIxcE-m8U9BIp57frghpoVomjY-p5xBOkGj3NXpZOQwQRdQyRHWi2tLshkyDGWSc4DErArVlV8nZXjJF_DQ1lQ=s3370" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3370" data-original-width="2803" height="485" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiB_6wJ55cSxsLKBDNeT3OLXO-wuSCPT-F8hTnZQJsx_vIM5VzWn-W4d7ktUvRZz43ltSdeBfPPL2kw9_V1jqUU18_ZMXYBLaIxcE-m8U9BIp57frghpoVomjY-p5xBOkGj3NXpZOQwQRdQyRHWi2tLshkyDGWSc4DErArVlV8nZXjJF_DQ1lQ=w403-h485" width="403" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>The house at 5426 Cathedral Ave was built in 1917, and the first owner was James Price Cochran. James was born in Lynchburg, Virginia in 1863, when the Civil War was still raging. He was the eldest of ten children, born when his mother Amanda was just 17. His father William was a wheelwright and ran a grocery store. James became a policeman in 1883 and saved the lives of two people caught in a house fire in 1890. </span><span>In 1886, he married Emma Kate Gertrude Huysman in Washington, DC. and worked for the fire department here before returning to the police force. He served both in uniform and plain clothes and according to the Evening Star made many “clever captures” which included a gang of silver thieves operating near Dupont Circle.</span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAf5j3ZjW0D1BbuChkBS5SvdIRZuXuA7eS8UFiqQNpdwpuyThrSnHdntZZhHdMeYxGe1J23CSbniN1qAzUt3RbZxinoWq67Mn3jzl4PmGOl_50tK3NIijGDI9m69jnzeGz8eEcTabZiMULSqqyamlihwgIYsr5GK1pGOkgHllxqMZEC0KgKXM=s788" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="484" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAf5j3ZjW0D1BbuChkBS5SvdIRZuXuA7eS8UFiqQNpdwpuyThrSnHdntZZhHdMeYxGe1J23CSbniN1qAzUt3RbZxinoWq67Mn3jzl4PmGOl_50tK3NIijGDI9m69jnzeGz8eEcTabZiMULSqqyamlihwgIYsr5GK1pGOkgHllxqMZEC0KgKXM=w258-h420" width="258" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A daughter, Merceda, was born on March 3, 1890, but by 1899 his marriage was in big trouble. Allegations of “unfaithfulness with persons of questionable character” were made by James and denied by Emma. (I wonder if James used his detective skills for domestic purposes as well.)</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">In any case, James resigned from the DC police force in 1899 and started a new career as a night watchman. He was instrumental in starting the NIght Watchman’s Association in 1905 and was their business agent.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">During a Watchman meeting in October 1905, stories were told about the original watchmen, Fritz Stutz, “a venerable German who patrolled the warehouses on the riverfront of Georgetown” in the 1850s when there was no metropolitan police force “with his Cossack-like fuzzy cap, his heavy hickory staff, watchman’s rattle and queer-looking lantern…” Sometimes Mr Stutz would throw in a bit of news on the hour as well. The current watchman’s association worked with the police and often guarded department stores and other private businesses and homes.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">James married again in 1906 when he was 43 years old. His new bride Mary Louise Rawlings grew up on a farm in Anne Arundel County, Maryland. Mary, no spring chicken herself, was about 30 when they tied the knot. </span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">The Cochrans bought the large house at 5426 Cathedral Ave in 1916 when James was 54 years. He still worked as a watchman, but the five bedroom house gave them an opportunity to make extra money by taking in boarders. In the 1920 census, a boarder named Annie Phipps lived with them. She was single and a seamstress.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Meanwhile, James’ daughter Merceda had married George Isemann. The two lived nearby in Georgetown. Both would become champion duckpin bowlers and frequently appeared in the sports pages until George died of a throat infection in 1940. James' ex-wife Emma married two more times before she died in 1922. Her last husband was an embezzling, brawling bartender who made the papers when he assaulted a cop in 1916. I can’t help but think James probably heard about that one.</span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">In 1925, when James was 62 and Mary about 50, a baby appeared in their lives. He was named George Michael Cochran. Here’s Mary with George on her lap from a 1926 Potomac Heights Church congregation photo. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOG6TQVhy4JFNHHb3kS2GlSNKKoRv_LdxRdBKjgid6xe_ZgKZ6XMqQ5wYoFusWuI2sZFnlShg9_y8Qzvm9nU-TXhrNqNHajM7YdJWvxwjLyCEV0fks-jSglVJ2bVGEZcotruD5EzDOMW5SAEgM5rxAHH_eHNv9znT6U79ML-1TU7y7shVZYQs=s3893" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3893" data-original-width="3024" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOG6TQVhy4JFNHHb3kS2GlSNKKoRv_LdxRdBKjgid6xe_ZgKZ6XMqQ5wYoFusWuI2sZFnlShg9_y8Qzvm9nU-TXhrNqNHajM7YdJWvxwjLyCEV0fks-jSglVJ2bVGEZcotruD5EzDOMW5SAEgM5rxAHH_eHNv9znT6U79ML-1TU7y7shVZYQs=w313-h402" width="313" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial;">James and Mary attended one of the very first meetings which initiated the formation of the Potomac Heights Community Church. (Now Palisades Community Church) Mary taught Sunday school from the very beginning in 1923 until the 1950s. She was also enthusiastic about drama, and when the church was first getting organized she proposed scoping out “home talent to put on plays.” </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">L</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial;">ater Mary herself participated in those plays including this one. </span></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8sUHSaNQ-boi9kGaqTzfbpZFslh6LI9YZb81sE-HSkeoNEmDgZumCIn_vW6rX7IuWf5CBNLzRRu2flkbi7gtX0k9nOZ8fhryFni5LCGQmVOi24UH97LnLGTuud6Er8bP7PZbcI8d2QeiXr-lm2VnFGhaLsiLP-4vCekk5oclhppI-HfkxdT4=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2927" height="451" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8sUHSaNQ-boi9kGaqTzfbpZFslh6LI9YZb81sE-HSkeoNEmDgZumCIn_vW6rX7IuWf5CBNLzRRu2flkbi7gtX0k9nOZ8fhryFni5LCGQmVOi24UH97LnLGTuud6Er8bP7PZbcI8d2QeiXr-lm2VnFGhaLsiLP-4vCekk5oclhppI-HfkxdT4=w327-h451" width="327" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; text-align: left;">Mary back row far left next to David Correll of 5414 Cathedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">In the 1930 census, Annie had left the household, but three more boarders appeared. George F Cochran was listed as an adopted son. James was still working as a watchman at 67 years old. That same year little George was bitten by a dog. It made the Evening Star on April 24, 1935.</span></div><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhv4dLKv3SneCvrS2NMGxagNqADEPYaCXMtSA0bc3YVKulOEOCaFzT11qxSk-DH-mFPaPzL9UAxcfwadYhjlnVOmm7wnp0UPbNIaufsoAdHy-tbpSPcRF9L8liK_cKyHnupwPFWFmD-GS8cIjKgR6CD43ldY5ueo5COrFP0C_97XuiJ9cVpMTk=s801" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="801" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhv4dLKv3SneCvrS2NMGxagNqADEPYaCXMtSA0bc3YVKulOEOCaFzT11qxSk-DH-mFPaPzL9UAxcfwadYhjlnVOmm7wnp0UPbNIaufsoAdHy-tbpSPcRF9L8liK_cKyHnupwPFWFmD-GS8cIjKgR6CD43ldY5ueo5COrFP0C_97XuiJ9cVpMTk=s320" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">In the 1940 census, The Cochrans were still hosting lodgers which included Bess Custard and her two little boys, Don and Jimmie. Bess was divorced and supported herself as a stenographer. Don and his friend Martin Kegel, who lived across the street, made the papers when both fell through the ice while playing on the canal that same January. Even though Don was in the icy water for at least a half hour, he survived the incident unscathed, and joined the Marines at 18. He was killed while serving in the Korean War. </span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisJ_PZVd4Lcc_yuV-fNwQdvoEBmS931fBtqSLeb1KKHbu9k4PFYbixiTcOyN-jvBxRh1gh8pkt-70rUmU9HxVaTsR-_PaJWdbYIYXAmvnfYrVzz4PD24vlIZK4sCI3_OElXsHFez6B0htwCd3DxBfrtot_EwuNRN2UBycLT7-6HUY57uZxB8w=s1638" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1638" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisJ_PZVd4Lcc_yuV-fNwQdvoEBmS931fBtqSLeb1KKHbu9k4PFYbixiTcOyN-jvBxRh1gh8pkt-70rUmU9HxVaTsR-_PaJWdbYIYXAmvnfYrVzz4PD24vlIZK4sCI3_OElXsHFez6B0htwCd3DxBfrtot_EwuNRN2UBycLT7-6HUY57uZxB8w=w460-h237" width="460" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Evening Star Jan 16, 1940 (Don on right)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">James died early in the summer of 1942 and was buried in Lynchburg. He was almost 80 years old. George joined the Navy that August and served until 1947. Mary stayed in the house until 1946 when she sold the property to James and Marguerite Schaeffer. Mary remained active in the church until her death in 1961</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4HVT8WONqlKuWQGVRhV182EjV3jqHglZg1F7bqiGgecszXOEF1N5YaFNS4OaDOtZ1BWaYUEWv3TcVR0r_e0bhMduzji5ykIYxsk7FbxXLxBgT2AOWER_beo5QBZC-xq7hQlS4vQl5yICN6bqhS71BM0iPhQHz5CtvTm0wOpKe4mgAGOFghb0=s1522" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1522" data-original-width="1279" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4HVT8WONqlKuWQGVRhV182EjV3jqHglZg1F7bqiGgecszXOEF1N5YaFNS4OaDOtZ1BWaYUEWv3TcVR0r_e0bhMduzji5ykIYxsk7FbxXLxBgT2AOWER_beo5QBZC-xq7hQlS4vQl5yICN6bqhS71BM0iPhQHz5CtvTm0wOpKe4mgAGOFghb0=w402-h478" width="402" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mary and James congregation photo 1940</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;">. George joined the Navy that August and served until 1947. Mary stayed in the house until 1946 when she sold the property to James and Marguerite Schaeffer. Mary remained active in the church until her death in 1961. She even manned a ceremonial shovel when the church built an addition in 1959. Here are two of her recipes from the church cookbook. (click on the photo for a larger version)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_DgV-ymQyr0U-BXmQMBU96M3ZUxYEHCJEDxthJHt1zXFuTRXSW_-2hIHUjIxawZ8fq0rpj6zIFUqggkFTo2K4xJ5JYVxKpaF6MwY8c03vxRXB3hv4rLjkn_hFsn5Bz-5T5cvvXD2HJZYDMcz2qi3b321kraYb-MObuqAgaiAziDkXQCH17gg=s3476" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2737" data-original-width="3476" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_DgV-ymQyr0U-BXmQMBU96M3ZUxYEHCJEDxthJHt1zXFuTRXSW_-2hIHUjIxawZ8fq0rpj6zIFUqggkFTo2K4xJ5JYVxKpaF6MwY8c03vxRXB3hv4rLjkn_hFsn5Bz-5T5cvvXD2HJZYDMcz2qi3b321kraYb-MObuqAgaiAziDkXQCH17gg=w493-h350" width="493" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial;">I don’t know much about the Scheaffers, who lived here for 8 years, except that they won a prize in a beautiful house contest in 1952. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">This ad appeared in March 1954 when Armin and Mary Hufnagle bought the house. </span></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggM9fDy-C4mOT_8I__tKRbu28_sHF_ooWEFjEOZV0VPxXBc28mYVhJSeUFFYev3vmcok4CN3eARZKr-zz7BcXfSIANOlA8rfbrJ03WtpvSarYKQOkemkvsNFWFYjRCx7Ky8CFNcGMZ0RDfQDSSMLMIOl_nBLbtqzmowzzEqjDEO6iKKATtbp8=s1033" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="1004" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggM9fDy-C4mOT_8I__tKRbu28_sHF_ooWEFjEOZV0VPxXBc28mYVhJSeUFFYev3vmcok4CN3eARZKr-zz7BcXfSIANOlA8rfbrJ03WtpvSarYKQOkemkvsNFWFYjRCx7Ky8CFNcGMZ0RDfQDSSMLMIOl_nBLbtqzmowzzEqjDEO6iKKATtbp8=s320" width="311" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Armin was in turns an insurance salesman, a “proprietor” and a cabbie.</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><span> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Armin died in July 1973, and Mary sold the house to the current owner in November 1973. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Here's one more photo of Mary hanging out with other charter members at church.</span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMpfNN79dmQoHKWjigCB7J0T95Pp-0860Tv1k0tWwF6Ruj1c06n1XfaXcOgwBh8pIaqzn1xcMrZ3G6cqpmIyIm1QM4EAdiEYR7IiQ-9ymx5SY5YKkZEaYa78uipsJkeVvnqJmjE3cdOpkgeiLiwE3bpC75KU9VjWBBm34afJahsXP7muTIxg/s7113/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="7113" data-original-width="5015" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMpfNN79dmQoHKWjigCB7J0T95Pp-0860Tv1k0tWwF6Ruj1c06n1XfaXcOgwBh8pIaqzn1xcMrZ3G6cqpmIyIm1QM4EAdiEYR7IiQ-9ymx5SY5YKkZEaYa78uipsJkeVvnqJmjE3cdOpkgeiLiwE3bpC75KU9VjWBBm34afJahsXP7muTIxg/w308-h436/Potomac%20Heights%20Com%20Church%20%202.jpeg" width="308" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-32468032804540166512022-02-22T07:34:00.005-05:002023-01-23T08:47:07.653-05:00Potomac Heights: Have You Seen It?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OOpW-lTf7U5ZJAqfC0q3SepTZwXdS0uZaeBdXMACUJ2Iuh_dsEXiBP-4GZzvBkrqBusz5mQufzHQJdD2XylNrBK2ayDx9jR7VLR7YWiUmX2_oqYbaO5Vs4rOXNwxGcOpkWAGSg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="1256" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OOpW-lTf7U5ZJAqfC0q3SepTZwXdS0uZaeBdXMACUJ2Iuh_dsEXiBP-4GZzvBkrqBusz5mQufzHQJdD2XylNrBK2ayDx9jR7VLR7YWiUmX2_oqYbaO5Vs4rOXNwxGcOpkWAGSg/w451-h237/potomac+heights+ad.png" width="451" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-042ad196-7fff-5d4d-cf58-3866293d9818">In the summer of 1909 a new "suburb" called Potomac Heights opened in the Northwest corner of Washington, DC.</span> At the time only a semi- abandoned athletic park with a race track for bicycles existed on this edge of the city. The track, which opened in May of 1896, was nestled near the corner of Macarthur Boulevard and the Dalecarlia reservoir where an alley with a deep approach is now. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09O0l2KtCjirmY3K54si8B5Eu3zg3eTDb46OIQob4avT1VlFeoOV3aHRWQQwGIUWbBzNlHru6YaHwGByw9H3m65TX-_JzvARrwMvFYKpd89eQuGx2EMbFCMo2F-QOVX_pyHVHYy00K9HBLn4SJpucoI1juwgTgss2wAgyIqT8UKujw_TA8sA/s1586/1903%20Baist%20Map.Jacojpg.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1586" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09O0l2KtCjirmY3K54si8B5Eu3zg3eTDb46OIQob4avT1VlFeoOV3aHRWQQwGIUWbBzNlHru6YaHwGByw9H3m65TX-_JzvARrwMvFYKpd89eQuGx2EMbFCMo2F-QOVX_pyHVHYy00K9HBLn4SJpucoI1juwgTgss2wAgyIqT8UKujw_TA8sA/w606-h321/1903%20Baist%20Map.Jacojpg.jpg" width="606" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1903 Baist Map</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">An article in the Evening Star had this description: "there are no obstructions in the entire area, and the only landmark is a solitary tree, which stands about the center of the place, and in the side of which, as a mark and a relic of bygone days, a piece of bayonet is firmly held, which was undoubtably imbedded in the tree doing war times, when the place was used as a camp by soldiers." Yep, that was a while ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">An estimated 18,000 yards of earth were removed to create a sunken amphitheater effect with the course being one third of a mile long. The president of the company, Jacob P. Clark, was also the president of the Great Falls Electric Railway at the time. Housing development plans were alluded to, but never came to fruition. Here's a drawing of the bike track.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPqmStNP9G2aEQyV3hi1nrJwtcevCVP5L-0BzRdbLfMMlUBkrg_SV3YR2gE7WzkjnQrRyzjA489RypVEPr28-ZBtpx2tSPY92-hBs3S4i1aOzFmb6v80_VF7jOqQFD82EOXKy09xxZj0kgzikoHxtN2kDVLD9Vec3jYrm48ZEZc6AF9lircw8=s1544" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1544" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPqmStNP9G2aEQyV3hi1nrJwtcevCVP5L-0BzRdbLfMMlUBkrg_SV3YR2gE7WzkjnQrRyzjA489RypVEPr28-ZBtpx2tSPY92-hBs3S4i1aOzFmb6v80_VF7jOqQFD82EOXKy09xxZj0kgzikoHxtN2kDVLD9Vec3jYrm48ZEZc6AF9lircw8=w400-h201" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">On June 16, 1909 <span id="docs-internal-guid-042ad196-7fff-5d4d-cf58-3866293d9818">a group of real estate men from North Carolina bought the 75 acre property </span>which was still mostly undeveloped land, described at the time as "a maze of timothy oats and undergrowth." The tract was one mile long, bounded by Arizona Avenue, the Dalecarlia reservoir, MacArthur Boulevard, and the bluff of the river.<span> JD Dorsett, </span>R H McNeil and JM Maupin called their new corporation "The Potomac Heights Land Company." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The new neighborhood would be three blocks wide, bisected by what was then the Glen Echo trolley line which provided the convenience of a streetcar to anywhere in the city. Originally about 800 lots were planned with two acres donated to become Carolina Park by the developers where "walled springs under wide-spreading branches provided deliciously cold water." The springs are mostly forced through tunnels today, but one still meanders close to Macomb Street. The lots were 25 feet wide, and buyers were encouraged to purchase two at $800 a pair with financing available "for less per month than you pay a good cook."</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4JEdQwmYlW1LSoXDNy_9dt9k9LXs7qkeKMY-i19V1FukEzQrHs_ztK2Khoa4YFmTCH1nKEyrTYLoldcNFBHUclH5cL0KXoNJaGh5Uwr62x16wppUofRPWfVwD2NLcAd42ZELcg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img data-original-height="1460" data-original-width="1746" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4JEdQwmYlW1LSoXDNy_9dt9k9LXs7qkeKMY-i19V1FukEzQrHs_ztK2Khoa4YFmTCH1nKEyrTYLoldcNFBHUclH5cL0KXoNJaGh5Uwr62x16wppUofRPWfVwD2NLcAd42ZELcg/w400-h333/1909+Potomac+Hgts+plot+map.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> Potomac Avenue, a brand new road, was described in an Evening Star article on June 3, 1911 as "extending along the very brow of the hill and commanding a magnificent view of the Potomac River and the valley." As beautiful as the topography was, and still is, land near the river was not traditionally considered to be desirable. In the 1920s Chain Bridge led to a gas station and a tavern on the Virginia side. A watering hole had anchored that side of the bridge ever since one took the place of an abandoned Civil War guard station. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeWZQnEL8hOR5aDuiK6GFwXNvlrYlnL6P2vHLT4H57l8YVQAyQMozCzdwK3iYJsesBsJNxfrQ5c8dN0iObcF3mT9QQi7LCiIirGddeHBvaWicJXbu9alcn24ICevxh3sEBtA1Ag/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeWZQnEL8hOR5aDuiK6GFwXNvlrYlnL6P2vHLT4H57l8YVQAyQMozCzdwK3iYJsesBsJNxfrQ5c8dN0iObcF3mT9QQi7LCiIirGddeHBvaWicJXbu9alcn24ICevxh3sEBtA1Ag/w400-h300/34797u_CivilWar.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">photo from Library of Congress</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Due to flooding, Chain Bridge has been replaced many times, and first got its name from a suspension bridge version in 1808. The current stone piers have been in place since just before the Civil War. Various taverns came and went as well. During Prohibition in the 1920s, McKey's Tavern was known as a bootlegging outpost. I love this noir type shot.<br /></span><div><p></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsmwyUwb-MJeZ2-eu5dlLdK9BFwbY2x94F593shu9cWw6H29QiBadiMhcbUI075l4nwkOXAHP6nM5yCuma0243jPI1Qn0Ejk-FGlRGHAfXGxka0283L9cYvloBPHplMAvSvx6gQ/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1384" data-original-width="2116" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsmwyUwb-MJeZ2-eu5dlLdK9BFwbY2x94F593shu9cWw6H29QiBadiMhcbUI075l4nwkOXAHP6nM5yCuma0243jPI1Qn0Ejk-FGlRGHAfXGxka0283L9cYvloBPHplMAvSvx6gQ/w400-h261/1930+McKay%2527s+tavern+.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Taken from parking lot of McKeys Tavern </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Of course, the DC side of the bridge had its own share of shady goings ons. In August of 1927, eighteen men and women were arrested for disorderly conduct, and three for bootlegging during a midnight raid on a house at the corner of Canal Road and Arizona Avenue. A thousand bottles of home brew and liquor were seized. In the summer of 1933 undercover cops in bathing suits arrested two entrepreneurs on a houseboat who had been "catering to canoeists and swimmers all summer doing a particularly heavy week end business." Business was booming. The cops seized a dozen quarts of their "alleged whiskey."</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">A girls' reform school, which opened in 1893 on the site of the present day Sibley Hospital, flanked one end of the neighborhood- just across the road from the bicycle track.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY--ey_x5Mn6XuZeWS-i170ycCSzJqEvypSrOOullCiQyuw8-UXAxtxDSfNf2WP65fUbFOZ2XH2Y9_ZjlEDkjAg56zax73ImHvyuE9ULaDEaqMsOxCxJghwYsLAskLnYk5KdhgqEagI2wada0fMjQT2lW7rYrGPe_vQazkblkbheRVWrknIjA=s421" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="421" data-original-width="346" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY--ey_x5Mn6XuZeWS-i170ycCSzJqEvypSrOOullCiQyuw8-UXAxtxDSfNf2WP65fUbFOZ2XH2Y9_ZjlEDkjAg56zax73ImHvyuE9ULaDEaqMsOxCxJghwYsLAskLnYk5KdhgqEagI2wada0fMjQT2lW7rYrGPe_vQazkblkbheRVWrknIjA=w330-h400" width="330" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Reform School Admin Building 1937</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1921 eleven girls escaped from the reform school. Thirteen men and women were later arrested for harboring the runaways, several being caught while "enjoying life in Marquise Camp" south of Chain Bridge according to a story in the Evening Star. A motorboat called "The Vamp"was raided and yielded more arrests. The girls reported that they "were motored about the river" and that bathing suits were acquired for them. I have a feeling their benefactors were not well-intentioned. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Life was both rural and blue collar here in the early 1900s. Fishermen and laborers lived in shacks which dotted the bluffs on both sides of the river. Quarries lined the Virginia side from near Spout Run to Pimmet's Run by Chain Bridge. Barges still ran up and down the canal delivering everything from coal to ice cream until a flood in 1924 basically shut down operations. Here's a canal barge serving as a party boat in June 1916.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicowrrxh8XLcXywrpdYeOnVeplxXLS6ld0acTL1syU5m49pLJOz5L7NfqV-qZtmBcwL0XbfMfqWLVhFskCl7n6TQa26I2-Ga3aYjQbrm3u3BUJe1c2EA1kfpO7mNq9Vu45mQGCHA/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img data-original-height="500" data-original-width="698" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicowrrxh8XLcXywrpdYeOnVeplxXLS6ld0acTL1syU5m49pLJOz5L7NfqV-qZtmBcwL0XbfMfqWLVhFskCl7n6TQa26I2-Ga3aYjQbrm3u3BUJe1c2EA1kfpO7mNq9Vu45mQGCHA/w433-h311/The+canal+party%252C+June+10%252C+1916+-+3.jpg" width="433" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Canal Party photo by Willard Ross </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />The B and O Railroad ran a line from Georgetown along where the Crescent trail is now, but Chain Bridge was often the scene of recreation as much as commerce as this "Chain Bridge Hike" in June of 1916 portrays.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1o5_RkAJ1MhMnm8aFvhe9vrGaJGrBLOdJ75KVPnvA4S0qVQxVCTIQctsVE3aI2KFBMN2zDW4_A5BWytwQCi9G1lVZAiBx3rufXLT9vwmTOWglPSJ2pSDbR5JgpTiuTdjxf32fg/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img data-original-height="2217" data-original-width="3436" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1o5_RkAJ1MhMnm8aFvhe9vrGaJGrBLOdJ75KVPnvA4S0qVQxVCTIQctsVE3aI2KFBMN2zDW4_A5BWytwQCi9G1lVZAiBx3rufXLT9vwmTOWglPSJ2pSDbR5JgpTiuTdjxf32fg/w444-h289/Chain+bridge+hike%252C+June+24%252C+1916+-+1.jpg" width="444" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Postcard by Willard Ross</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />The Potomac Height Company capitalized on the natural beauty of the area with advertisements proclaiming the benefits of healthy living with city conveniences. "Your home -within 5 cent street car fare of Washington-on the healthful level of 150 feet above and overlooking the most beautiful part of the Potomac-that's what awaits you..."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbez3syBGd4z5Sd-WmM2XiI6QHlyOBmLVQ3I9AP849w5M6WIgMMcrHlXg7q8Fbve72tvO0WcwwBLN86-0VdzNaVhH-LMoHK-kx2oqSRjUk51w2lki6znQ-T264yP5_Wb1hRFdPYStrF7lEsywF7XVRdzfZmdkfPT0UImCl_Df7Liq5D3GBP-s=s1514" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1514" data-original-width="1092" height="447" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbez3syBGd4z5Sd-WmM2XiI6QHlyOBmLVQ3I9AP849w5M6WIgMMcrHlXg7q8Fbve72tvO0WcwwBLN86-0VdzNaVhH-LMoHK-kx2oqSRjUk51w2lki6znQ-T264yP5_Wb1hRFdPYStrF7lEsywF7XVRdzfZmdkfPT0UImCl_Df7Liq5D3GBP-s=w324-h447" width="324" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> Many subsequent ads hinted that the neighborhood would soon be lake front property. For decades plans to harness the river's energy were pondered. The Great Falls Manufacturing Company which later reorganized as the Great Falls Power Company retained riparian rights starting in the 1839 even though the river was within the jurisdiction of Maryland. A massive hydro-electric dam was proposed in the 1890s. The lake would be named after Montgomery Meigs, an architect and engineer who oversaw the construction of the Washington aqueduct which included a feat of engineering now known as the Cabin John Bridge. The 220 foot masonry arch was the longest in the world for about 40 years after its creation. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1864, Meigs, a fervent supporter of the Union during the Civil War, was Lincoln's quartermaster and later a self imposed doorman when Lincoln lay dying at the Petersen House. It was Meig's who had the vengeful idea to bury soldiers in Robert E. Lee's yard and turn the grounds into Arlington Cemetery.</span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5H7B7-vdUdF9ySEYHif_VFsSsBTNTZoJDLrQPB-7-Rvr1tpGfx2Z03vhM4FBRXxRReGeEfIyjge7fInXoV5bu1qhSv-0aKM8gCfqn070rg0Vyl6sxDR6-lHVB2G5HJjl_uoH-bg/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5H7B7-vdUdF9ySEYHif_VFsSsBTNTZoJDLrQPB-7-Rvr1tpGfx2Z03vhM4FBRXxRReGeEfIyjge7fInXoV5bu1qhSv-0aKM8gCfqn070rg0Vyl6sxDR6-lHVB2G5HJjl_uoH-bg/w271-h362/Montgomery+C+Meigs.jpg" width="271" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Montgomery Meigs Library of Congress</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />But I digress. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The powers-that-be finally came to their senses in 1927, when the National Park and Planning commission realized a dam would be environmentally ruinous, attract unwanted heavy industries, and possibly "imperil" the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument downstream if breached. About ten years later, the government bought the C and O Canal from the B and O Railroad.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The most disturbing history of Potomac Heights can be found in 1911 when an ad in the Evening Star listed 15 "good" reasons to buy property here, the number one being "because the property is in a splendid neighborhood and free from persons of African descent." </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqXMhj0beRYmdPp8SrnLQQJn0bkbutfQQWec8WgQMZPXEZ1r-aKYKarmfdaVKYp_QqD6oGdr9Ugb58QtiFoO1pQBDc5y5oG43DZXiu6KZQmGNkNsVBtPJVm8CpZacwi41DxzR0w/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="988" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqXMhj0beRYmdPp8SrnLQQJn0bkbutfQQWec8WgQMZPXEZ1r-aKYKarmfdaVKYp_QqD6oGdr9Ugb58QtiFoO1pQBDc5y5oG43DZXiu6KZQmGNkNsVBtPJVm8CpZacwi41DxzR0w/w233-h350/1911+potomac+hgts+racial+.png" width="233" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This ad was the most blatant I found, but not a one off by any means. Advertising pitches repeatedly emphasized that "only the best people" could buy homes here, and deeds with racial covenants were not outlawed until 1957. In July 1919 an ad in the Evening Star had this abhorrent description of home sales in Potomac Heights: "Under stringent restrictions. It will always be white." And that's pretty much what happened.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMF8J7WpAz-RWH_I0uy6k7gZXVbzlPESzQM17dkqroPK7F8OVKde02Na-yka7CZyQynHp0QSnAVhrYnGRo3ZrYC1t4gtNKNodArJr_0vLkz-mF8sB_7HH1KWeYlfyvIrs_TxyQQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1232" data-original-width="1462" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMF8J7WpAz-RWH_I0uy6k7gZXVbzlPESzQM17dkqroPK7F8OVKde02Na-yka7CZyQynHp0QSnAVhrYnGRo3ZrYC1t4gtNKNodArJr_0vLkz-mF8sB_7HH1KWeYlfyvIrs_TxyQQ/w285-h240/Evening+Star+1919.png" width="285" /></span></a></div></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Development of the neighborhood preceded slowly. Sears and Roebuck, the mail order company, began selling homes in 1908, but the DC market took off in 1922 when a local sales office opened on 10th St NW. Sears kit homes came in a stunning array of both styles and materials and were a popular choice for those investing or moving to Potomac Heights. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1923 The Potomac Heights Community Church forged connections between many of the new neighbors. The only church in the area was Catholic, and since there weren't enough Baptists or Methodists to make a difference, a group of neighbors decided to join the community church movement and merged eleven denominations into one church.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Now many of those homes are making way for newer bigger buildings- especially on lots overlooking the river. My block of Potomac Heights has two Sears homes, including my own. This year, listening to all the hammering nearby, I wondered who first lived on this block. under the shade of our 100 year old willow oaks? Stay tuned to this site for those House Stories. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-20565486646908656652022-01-26T08:50:00.004-05:002022-01-30T12:04:59.083-05:00The Hollywood Inn of Maryland<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbLkFVzDnZodcv7M7T22feFia3U35T_vd30rgbgWhFcMgcM_VM8TmMIUUN5wjuERr-2-wWtz49dpJlHPxd5jJJXxv3Hqf5lXC5IMcNUgGtd0EmGTPt13A_f7hdvDVW3JvG_twI2_5S3wnIm1CBjRZP3HYjX2Ao_bnzu9dZJVSf5CDWMLOyFkI=s445" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="304" data-original-width="445" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbLkFVzDnZodcv7M7T22feFia3U35T_vd30rgbgWhFcMgcM_VM8TmMIUUN5wjuERr-2-wWtz49dpJlHPxd5jJJXxv3Hqf5lXC5IMcNUgGtd0EmGTPt13A_f7hdvDVW3JvG_twI2_5S3wnIm1CBjRZP3HYjX2Ao_bnzu9dZJVSf5CDWMLOyFkI=w400-h275" width="400" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>By the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">time my father George was twenty years old, he was supporting his wife Bebe, a young son Peter, and a new baby. M</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">y grandparents Pota and Pete were still crazy upset that my parents had eloped in 1935, and that my mother was not a Greek girl. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> Pota still refused to accept the situation, but in 1937 when my sister was born, my grandfather Pete was ready to cave. He</span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"> had bought property near Camp Springs some time in the early 1930s thinking</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"> the urban congregation of St Sophia's might want to use the grounds for picnics and gatherings. The </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hollywood Inn, as it was called, was near the middle of nowhere in an area so rural, it didn’t have a street address. The area which was once known as Red's Corner or Meadows. </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); white-space: pre-wrap;">Unfortunately the church thought the place was too far from the city and not as much fun as an excursion to Marshall Hall. Pete upped his game when he secured a license</span></span> to sell beer in June 1933 as soon as regulations prohibiting the sale of beer were relaxed and before the official end of prohibition at the end of that year. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here's a Hollywood Inn ad from 1934.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaiHVtWTuA4qjyE5oWwpg2xPIpe4QXklUHUnd8_whPpfcWeOCHrg8clrooJ0MuvDK9tu5BIAq1AS4Oh1S4JlnlzTtTUVYdx-FzLVi4dvYDQhUyXzEZNTJT0-VOQd4gND2MTTI6_uOtb5jaY4CunUwNDnYhi_7_vfb66scAow2RVX9J7ysVRJk=s1064" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="1064" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaiHVtWTuA4qjyE5oWwpg2xPIpe4QXklUHUnd8_whPpfcWeOCHrg8clrooJ0MuvDK9tu5BIAq1AS4Oh1S4JlnlzTtTUVYdx-FzLVi4dvYDQhUyXzEZNTJT0-VOQd4gND2MTTI6_uOtb5jaY4CunUwNDnYhi_7_vfb66scAow2RVX9J7ysVRJk=s320" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>And here is a photo of the family on the front porch around 1935. My grandfather Pete is in the back standing between his brother Alec and his daughter Catherine. The front row is son Nick, Alec's wife Koula and my grandmother Pota. The children belong to Koula and Alec. My father is in the very back grinning. </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEij1JjxWM66pwZuTsRVraRNrWK1FIpocs80uIDmb5v1r8UgGW21oBjuHu-Gu9rI_GCWgETCA3RKiKbhzH_0Hh68s8hWT7UH53ntyYLMNyAccWbZXAZHQ3hH54pmscUIikfxpuiZoOtf7B4FfRf_ApMEDdd2_49lS3hWmWXiIjeeAE9W2wIrQf0=s3398" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2070" data-original-width="3398" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEij1JjxWM66pwZuTsRVraRNrWK1FIpocs80uIDmb5v1r8UgGW21oBjuHu-Gu9rI_GCWgETCA3RKiKbhzH_0Hh68s8hWT7UH53ntyYLMNyAccWbZXAZHQ3hH54pmscUIikfxpuiZoOtf7B4FfRf_ApMEDdd2_49lS3hWmWXiIjeeAE9W2wIrQf0=w471-h288" width="471" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">After my sister was born, Pete decided to let his son live there in exchange for running the roadhouse. During the week, George worked for Quick Service Laundry. When he was out driving the delivery truck, he would put flyers on parked cars advertising Saturday night dances and chicken dinners on Sunday at the inn. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Chicken plucking was also on his resume.) </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am guessing my father got an extra good deal on these business </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">cards because his name is misspelled. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgB6mCmzLhOenGdVu0JogyqpFgwnZ6hlRSnER3xDIwG7Iu8iDuu581FucQ8LvIRmzVGijD67vttlsSIONgUsacAcagN3yUo4jFjNuJPdzkDR0v5hPdSBDwNZ3BgIi9dUH9kFsgyM_fvEmjsj2SiDWHg9pC9jTV4LxrQzJsUmbAt4C7GLm6eHTI=s4407" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2643" data-original-width="4407" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgB6mCmzLhOenGdVu0JogyqpFgwnZ6hlRSnER3xDIwG7Iu8iDuu581FucQ8LvIRmzVGijD67vttlsSIONgUsacAcagN3yUo4jFjNuJPdzkDR0v5hPdSBDwNZ3BgIi9dUH9kFsgyM_fvEmjsj2SiDWHg9pC9jTV4LxrQzJsUmbAt4C7GLm6eHTI=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I only have one rather desultory photo of the Inn's interior. Seems like everyone is waiting for Godot including my grandfather Pete who is standing to the right of the stage. </span></span></span></div></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJDMWbF-ZTAsfeJpBb8UtbxKfksty-POKtujy0D1tRCgMFF7hiG4CBVlfsFZs3fuUqMWPgVqnBDl93HM7Cyh0i5wSBBPYJOOnJeY3nHq7P2M-UDWieKOcY3VxeNHkYpyfGvuqnl6ry0EpXXCsNbaZSBYRshYCMmHfPcLD6-R9tRzYxNw4VVsU=s2101" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1128" data-original-width="2101" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJDMWbF-ZTAsfeJpBb8UtbxKfksty-POKtujy0D1tRCgMFF7hiG4CBVlfsFZs3fuUqMWPgVqnBDl93HM7Cyh0i5wSBBPYJOOnJeY3nHq7P2M-UDWieKOcY3VxeNHkYpyfGvuqnl6ry0EpXXCsNbaZSBYRshYCMmHfPcLD6-R9tRzYxNw4VVsU=w493-h265" width="493" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>Both of my parents grew up in the city. This was their first run at life in the </span></span><span style="color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;">country with chickens, dogs and cats. I love this goofy photo of my sister sharing her playpen with a dog and puppies. Her brother Pete has his head at the bars.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUvC65A25msqns13eRtzck66QLTKjO90U1mi7z1AytI2dYOvbxqBuOMZfyA3PRL4yg5pyufiS2RPvOghJiHzFOpHIDqu_Ovu1IpQqaaR7U8oSSgXaSYZsyGn_Fq-7mA4K6NFzR2MPdDmoh1liW3-SMt4d2Jp22o0dwKw7VXF4vvoyno3p1Q2Q=s5697" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5697" data-original-width="3724" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUvC65A25msqns13eRtzck66QLTKjO90U1mi7z1AytI2dYOvbxqBuOMZfyA3PRL4yg5pyufiS2RPvOghJiHzFOpHIDqu_Ovu1IpQqaaR7U8oSSgXaSYZsyGn_Fq-7mA4K6NFzR2MPdDmoh1liW3-SMt4d2Jp22o0dwKw7VXF4vvoyno3p1Q2Q=w261-h400" width="261" /></a></div></span></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>One memorable Saturday, the Inn was rented out to a group who wanted to have a "smoker." </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">George had no idea what was involved until the entertainment arrived. My father took one look at the four dancers and decided he should ask my mother to leave her hostess stand and stay upstairs for the rest for the evening which, as it turns out, was cut short by a raid. As my father told it, a nosy neighbor caught wind of the affair and called the police. The incident </span></span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">garnered a mention on the front page of </span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The Evening</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; white-space: pre-wrap;">Star</i></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> on February 5, 1938. </span> My father was arrested and fined for his ignorance, but he always loved to tell the story.</span><div><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvRjtRoYx4pXHpDms4oUB8FVO6g8G6CAHtVeFZhshDUBbiVX-SC7opsC9NEzcz7zzUmcelWSsFm8Bo_LelRQ_MiOCoX_immcnVj0LYZ2VdWYta4KohbV84v1bF_0biaThvDyHwfN4ZQiMTXRC0h4VIFGZ_iB4zvxEJTMbed4BLQq8_uZ8b4_E=s674" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvRjtRoYx4pXHpDms4oUB8FVO6g8G6CAHtVeFZhshDUBbiVX-SC7opsC9NEzcz7zzUmcelWSsFm8Bo_LelRQ_MiOCoX_immcnVj0LYZ2VdWYta4KohbV84v1bF_0biaThvDyHwfN4ZQiMTXRC0h4VIFGZ_iB4zvxEJTMbed4BLQq8_uZ8b4_E=s320" width="246" /></a></div><br /> </span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #262626; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A year later the word "smoker" took on a whole new meaning on a windy night in March. My parents hosted a friend's birthday party earlier in the evening. They had cake and danced, mostly to "Hold Tight" which was in heavy rotation on the music box as my mother called it in her journal. The party broke up just before midnight, and after shutting down the Inn, my father fell asleep while Bebe was reading in bed. She heard rustling noises in the attic and wondered why they still had rats with all of the new cats roaming the property. She woke up George, and after listening a moment, he went down the long hall to investigate. When he pushed open the trap door to the attic, he discovered flames and yelled back to my mother to wake the household which included their helpers Mary Louise and Horace. They left the building at 12:15. My father went back in with Horace to try and save a few things, but it was too smoky. Half of the building was already consumed by flames. George drove his DeSoto four miles to the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Forrestville fire department to get help, but by the time he returned, the inn had burned to the ground. The devastation took less than forty five minutes, and the recruited firemen used their resources to save the woods and neighboring houses. </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p style="color: #262626; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p style="color: #262626; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;">George and Bebe lost everything that night except the clothes on their backs which were pajamas. They stayed with a neighbor and had to borrow clothes to drive into town the next day. Pete eventually sold the property to Andrews Air Force Base. My father found an apartment on E Street a week later, and they started over from scratch with donated clothing and furniture. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></p></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSIyZCS1ztHu2eoRafXNGRdB5LZ3Yxcjir-xyDENwHvOURUAdmh1cfHgq9OI6CGdK_HuzuWtn76LZuav2qR733UBMLP5f6VzZ0bfiTOMDlwUrur09ERx3kd1FYrEZHAFhxXfqRJzm9ljWMnEK87yWqBZFVZjL1bsciVi_9QMikLFOIAq9XzOw=s2057" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2057" data-original-width="1734" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSIyZCS1ztHu2eoRafXNGRdB5LZ3Yxcjir-xyDENwHvOURUAdmh1cfHgq9OI6CGdK_HuzuWtn76LZuav2qR733UBMLP5f6VzZ0bfiTOMDlwUrur09ERx3kd1FYrEZHAFhxXfqRJzm9ljWMnEK87yWqBZFVZjL1bsciVi_9QMikLFOIAq9XzOw=w169-h200" width="169" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0f8baf82-7fff-59de-62c4-f234077385ac"></span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-44719566571367282019-12-01T08:35:00.003-05:002020-08-04T07:36:14.156-04:00Old School Part One<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzltsIblJptnJEy3AE6Buf56Mc44SrEXl7rgagGiC0TLT0G57v58NZMbsEp-SycrckctJwlBrxUuVxfDtI2CBS_14L1LHY3Qf-GkDv7-yyNIiAj-3aybXT5edXacMw0SCL-20pbw/s1600/hp_scanDS_1122982519.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzltsIblJptnJEy3AE6Buf56Mc44SrEXl7rgagGiC0TLT0G57v58NZMbsEp-SycrckctJwlBrxUuVxfDtI2CBS_14L1LHY3Qf-GkDv7-yyNIiAj-3aybXT5edXacMw0SCL-20pbw/s1600/hp_scanDS_1122982519.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My father George started kindergarten at Wheatley Elementary on Neal Street NE in the fall of 1921. His sister, Catherine dragged him to school by the hand, and he cried the whole way. The teacher kept asking him his name, and he kept telling her “Yorgo.” They both must have been mystified. "Yorgo" didn't speak English, and he remembers being the only Greek boy in the class. The only friend he can recall from those early days was Harry Chase who lived up the street and did scary shows in his basement. (Isn't there always one?)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjpLasyLj5izQXL-Ulcb5BSHIAvkQCy2hZuFvWhzPUfNGhMmRByXWuqaldr6cga7B51ZMBS4omCTWWbM6QnNjX98tAIRo-GLo51hh3EyNWotNKIiRJ5IJwV0Z835yXfi4dQr9CA/s1600/Scanned+Image+142730006.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1076" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjpLasyLj5izQXL-Ulcb5BSHIAvkQCy2hZuFvWhzPUfNGhMmRByXWuqaldr6cga7B51ZMBS4omCTWWbM6QnNjX98tAIRo-GLo51hh3EyNWotNKIiRJ5IJwV0Z835yXfi4dQr9CA/s400/Scanned+Image+142730006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry Cooke 1926 (Roger front far left)</td></tr>
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Meanwhile, in Mount Pleasant, my mother Bebe and her little brother Roger attended Henry D. Cooke on 17th Street NW. Cooke was unusually large and overcrowded for an elementary school in the 1920s, and Bebe was a shy little girl. She didn't like going to school. She remembers being locked in a closet, but she doesn't remember why.<br />
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In 1929, the family moved to the brand new Broadmoor Apartments on Connecticut Avenue and Porter Streets in Northwest. The children in the building had their own little bus which took them to John Eaton Elementary on Lowell Street. One of those children was John Hechinger who would grow up to be a hardware magnate and start a chain of stores in our area. Bebe’s only good memory of John Eaton was the bakery truck which came around at recess. She was always torn between the eclair and the cinnamon bun.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhvhD-TwsUyMmU3ljfK04YOK2lfDCAUZfKJbf1zEcrN5s2f8dathoTZjNsRK32-jOk8djos1zEI6d7XwfKoQWJ2jWQrL1_7-7mgIOCUFhyQK5d0f4VyHt_mRvo7OcZVMY1XXDn3Q/s1600/scan_85417955_1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhvhD-TwsUyMmU3ljfK04YOK2lfDCAUZfKJbf1zEcrN5s2f8dathoTZjNsRK32-jOk8djos1zEI6d7XwfKoQWJ2jWQrL1_7-7mgIOCUFhyQK5d0f4VyHt_mRvo7OcZVMY1XXDn3Q/s1600/scan_85417955_1.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Roger and Bebe</td></tr>
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My father’s family also moved to Cleveland Park in the 1920s. George, Catherine and their little brother Nick all attended John Eaton starting in 1926. George remembers at recess a truck came from <a href="http://www.streetsofwashington.com/2020/06/the-holmes-modern-bakery-one-of-dcs.html">Holmes Bakery</a> to sell treats. My mother Bebe, who also went to John Eaton, liked the cinnamon buns, and George liked the eclairs. George remembers that John Eaton was bigger than Wheatley and had a better playground. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzA6uVXrj84gDLOJJjFsTLqLEA3UezOhzfpmvuJptdweegdeD9xoe9JidNxeo9hRNorrTmklL_qVc7izO4vUDBrljLn8u2-clfUVHqaqtco4-8mRsHvBf_1OX-kzU4CgBoo1Wdg/s1600/SCAN0028+%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="1555" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzA6uVXrj84gDLOJJjFsTLqLEA3UezOhzfpmvuJptdweegdeD9xoe9JidNxeo9hRNorrTmklL_qVc7izO4vUDBrljLn8u2-clfUVHqaqtco4-8mRsHvBf_1OX-kzU4CgBoo1Wdg/s400/SCAN0028+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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The Cokinos children walked the quarter mile from Macomb Street to school until George got a bicycle. Between owning a bike and getting a recommendation from his neighbor, Mr. Burka, of Burka’s Liquors, George became the first captain of the first boy patrol in the city. He remembers being in the sixth grade which would make the year about 1927. He kept his badge all his life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYAI2HlzJLhCLBY4fSnNml-kiJPN5Wd0QuJPykSrqRswWCs-9eagU1aD-ipfIhlqYuhki4Sn9WRXiQHQfJj5t8nSkhPPMSJm0_mLJLwHLOkfV0td4kCBoo0ZH0jZFhLoTR-dV7Q/s1600/IMG_3183.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1229" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYAI2HlzJLhCLBY4fSnNml-kiJPN5Wd0QuJPykSrqRswWCs-9eagU1aD-ipfIhlqYuhki4Sn9WRXiQHQfJj5t8nSkhPPMSJm0_mLJLwHLOkfV0td4kCBoo0ZH0jZFhLoTR-dV7Q/s320/IMG_3183.jpg" width="245" /></a></div>
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His little brother Nick followed in his footsteps about four years later. Here's a picture of him and his fellow officers. (Click on the photo to enlarge)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcTBicy2CNSXbHrjM82VQ2DP3hfvHGc6KkLiahVWukaeBkJesU4M4uRkE54mXvg2l97Imf2otcnXjhjI4WbpbUunhZ6KpOhR61i3ISHL_bzIPIhvskgR43ugbYqnrJSMNuDc0qg/s1600/hp_scanDS_1132215141453.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcTBicy2CNSXbHrjM82VQ2DP3hfvHGc6KkLiahVWukaeBkJesU4M4uRkE54mXvg2l97Imf2otcnXjhjI4WbpbUunhZ6KpOhR61i3ISHL_bzIPIhvskgR43ugbYqnrJSMNuDc0qg/s1600/hp_scanDS_1132215141453.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Nick- 4th from right second row (1930s)</td></tr>
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Most of the elementary schools went from kindergarten to the eighth grade in those days which would date this picture of Catherine's graduation sometime around 1929.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZF8M3humX_Qbhawtgbn-_hbfGyzqAP3Je3vlN7Uyt86dXbVQ9gQO4vA0ghvHYGZKKSWNW1-3hYQ8C98neJUQwa3uLe7m36_kOmIVtXjxSwDtQ50_ePCmPf9OCJ4AL6MF_2Ggcbg/s1600/IMG_1530.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnASumRWdlbZU9aoExohsELWxDvsZuL9JbI5md9VxRwJXE1S_Xj_EodonrUeLWRhlc9Sr7efgIawq0N8wSnnEL4HHWGLJ0po21hGn2n7jUYMC6SIAQ7jfoMn4Cvd4iJhkrS2prgg/s1600/HLIOP.SP.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWBLntefdifv7gj_GWQ8f3bZUTcy3ssSlMfATRIUEvbQHQsiNpcdwczul2eUFWZjdtfbo7rNUDdwDNE-0wbO4Gp6c-vbVfpU-zXBGiTCV_JVUm44TvgpXw3mar-iqq9ZzvmaWwQ/s1600/SCAN0028.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="1544" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWBLntefdifv7gj_GWQ8f3bZUTcy3ssSlMfATRIUEvbQHQsiNpcdwczul2eUFWZjdtfbo7rNUDdwDNE-0wbO4Gp6c-vbVfpU-zXBGiTCV_JVUm44TvgpXw3mar-iqq9ZzvmaWwQ/s400/SCAN0028.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catherine second row second from left</td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-56276969924442460542018-12-29T08:52:00.018-05:002022-02-05T08:15:46.192-05:00Part Three: The Cokinos Brothers Go Their Separate Ways /Macomb Street<div style="font-family: times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hain's Point abt 1920 Pete, Pota, Katy, Adam and little George</td></tr>
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The Cokinos Brothers came to Washington, D.C. from Greece in the early 1900s. My grandfather Pete and his brothers Adam and Alec lived above the various candy shops they ran until they had enough money to do other things. Adam and Pete both bought homes for their families near the shops on 9th Street NW and H Street NE, but those two had very different ideas about their retirement gigs.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">In 1922 Adam bought a fifty acre farm on the Rockville Pike at Montrose Road in Montgomery County, Maryland. Today high rises and shopping centers have replaced the barns and fields, but in those days the fifty-six acre tract was known as the National Vaccine and Anti-Toxin property, </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">Here is a picture of the original house which was built with rammed earth and stone by Rudolph Gaegler in the 1850s or so.</span><br />
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Adam wanted to have a farm to table kind of place which would supply restaurants with fresh produce. Unfortunately his property manager smoked in bed and burned the place down.<br />
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At least that’s what my father always told me. <br />
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I discovered another somewhat harrowing explanation in a Washington Star article from July 1925. John Cooley, the property manager and his 35 year old son Jesse were living in an outbuilding on the farm because Adam had already sold off the Gaegler house and eight acres in 1924. According to the article, poor Jesse was pumping the kitchen's coal oil stove when it exploded. His clothing caught on fire, and a neighbor severely burned his hands trying to get Jesse’s clothes off. In desperation, Jesse ran to a nearby creek to douse himself, but it was no use. A passing motorist took him to a hospital where he died.</div>
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Adam never did move to the farm, and after this unhappy event, he sold both the property and his candy store. He moved the family up to Philadelphia where his wife Katy could be near her folks again. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"></span><br />
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In 1920 Pete bought property on Macomb Street back when the street car turned here off Wisconsin Avenue and trundled on to American University. Not much else was here at the time. Pete filed a permit in 1925 to build a two story building with storefronts and apartments above the shops. </div><div style="font-family: times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrOSnQ7GeGu9NKpDiiIqUGONs4Sil4QSbCEH6dUy5kpjNhWdJefIutnBj5TkSUDzgwVqF77LWIuy1HMQMk23-rPCwJn14DljhQXTRCShsHRy75dQpydbLronelt5u4VMwJFF_LOFU349BumlMNtw4V3yqB_wMO-PAxyBLZUxk_kOrV_wCweE8=s1315" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1315" data-original-width="944" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrOSnQ7GeGu9NKpDiiIqUGONs4Sil4QSbCEH6dUy5kpjNhWdJefIutnBj5TkSUDzgwVqF77LWIuy1HMQMk23-rPCwJn14DljhQXTRCShsHRy75dQpydbLronelt5u4VMwJFF_LOFU349BumlMNtw4V3yqB_wMO-PAxyBLZUxk_kOrV_wCweE8=w259-h360" width="259" /></a></div><br /><div style="font-family: times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">The Cokinos family moved here from H Street NE in 1926.</div><div style="font-family: times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete and Pota<br />
Catherine, Nick and George on Macomb.</td></tr>
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The first tenants were a druggist, a grocer and a hardware man. My brother Peter remembered a High's store which sold ice cream when he lived there in the 1940s. Today the whole building houses one restaurant- Cactus Cantina. In 1927, Pete opened another candy store, but most of the customers were construction workers from the National Cathedral looking for lunch. Pota would run upstairs and get them soup or a sandwich. Here's my grandmother hanging out the window of her apartment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC9AKP59g8OPZsLt1fEQsmb94u6XWvDw0PB422jPCA9YwYBJfBUTznwTARodU9ObF6hJNB3eihlKpxNP-TULQsbCmVpBLLoFvQf9l_dR4OF_z_TU-26ju-6twR660_Ostv3F17w/s1600/Scanned+Image+150560006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1053" data-original-width="708" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC9AKP59g8OPZsLt1fEQsmb94u6XWvDw0PB422jPCA9YwYBJfBUTznwTARodU9ObF6hJNB3eihlKpxNP-TULQsbCmVpBLLoFvQf9l_dR4OF_z_TU-26ju-6twR660_Ostv3F17w/s400/Scanned+Image+150560006.jpg" width="268" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><p style="font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Another photo, taken in 1927 shows the building when it backed up to the eighteen hole golf course which was part of the <span style="color: #0000e9;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 233);"><u><a href="https://dcwritershomes.wdchumanities.org/evalyn-walsh-mclean/" target="_blank">Mclean Estate</a></u></span></span></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">. (later McLean Gardens) Evalyn and her husband Ned McLean squandered millions and threw lavish parties on the 75 acre property which included their home, a cast iron swimming pool, and stables. </span></p></div><div><span style="font-family: "times";"> </span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFf4cNVEJAMLN23EiRb8tT2rz9djZhwhkJ01px618g3ALAMFFxhJKla_0gOjYVjbUcNqEZ3iIdmDaRmfhVGhmU-zUWYenvQMoMx76cWZzBMPbKWav1ougKVACOSifL-KeVF1TIg/s2048/Macomb+and+Wisconsin+1927.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFf4cNVEJAMLN23EiRb8tT2rz9djZhwhkJ01px618g3ALAMFFxhJKla_0gOjYVjbUcNqEZ3iIdmDaRmfhVGhmU-zUWYenvQMoMx76cWZzBMPbKWav1ougKVACOSifL-KeVF1TIg/w400-h240/Macomb+and+Wisconsin+1927.png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;">Rumor has it that Evalyn allowed her dog to wear the Hope Diamond. Maybe that's why it's now safely stowed in the Smithsonian. </span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "times";">By 1929 Pete and Pota converted the candy shop into a lunch room. They called it Macomb Cafeteria although it was more like a diner with a few stools and booths. </span><span style="font-family: "times";">The ad below might send mixed signals, but whatever the dining experience, the room was only one storefront wide.</span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;">
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<span style="font-family: "times";">Unfortunately Pete found out a bit too late that his apartment manager liked to gamble. Pete had to sell part of the building to pay the back taxes. Two Amy's Pizza occupies this space these days. You can see the painted dividing line. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times";">Meanwhile the youngest brother Alec had moved uptown with Pete. Alec was still a lonely bachelor, but happily for him, the Haramkapolos brothers had just brought their sister Koula over from Greece. (Not to be confused with my grandmother Pota who was a Haralampakos which might explain why my father was always confused about her maiden name.) </span><br />
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Alec and Koula were married in 1926 and lived in an apartment over Burka’s Liquor Store for about six years. Their daughter Catherine was born in 1927. Here they are right in front of the building on Macomb with Wisconsin Avenue behind them.<br />
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In the early 1930s, another baby was on the way, and the apartment wasn't getting any bigger. Alec and Koula became the caretakers of St Sophia's church which was on 8th and L Street NW at the time. The church provided them with their own digs right next door, and that is where they brought up their family. Their door was always open...<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-46984965018328521822018-12-14T14:05:00.002-05:002018-12-14T14:05:44.428-05:00Part Two: How the Cokinos Brothers Found Love<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmd8AFS6_YSxdoJVYS3oh7lJ-dGPHWJdrJERAOr25kHGDJxVRgjiKrBWPRi8YXalZ_Tvbh-zok7smR4iI-sSp29IAgtk49LLSRarnXYpmoyN1c0_sU-TpM0MylJCt4JHtXMz4htA/s1600/adamcokinos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="463" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmd8AFS6_YSxdoJVYS3oh7lJ-dGPHWJdrJERAOr25kHGDJxVRgjiKrBWPRi8YXalZ_Tvbh-zok7smR4iI-sSp29IAgtk49LLSRarnXYpmoyN1c0_sU-TpM0MylJCt4JHtXMz4htA/s400/adamcokinos.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam Cokinos, batchelor</td></tr>
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The Cokinos Brothers came to America for opportunity. They may not have planned to stay, but by 1911 they had three candy shops going, and I'm thinking it made sense to get married and settle here for good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZF8M3humX_Qbhawtgbn-_hbfGyzqAP3Je3vlN7Uyt86dXbVQ9gQO4vA0ghvHYGZKKSWNW1-3hYQ8C98neJUQwa3uLe7m36_kOmIVtXjxSwDtQ50_ePCmPf9OCJ4AL6MF_2Ggcbg/s1600/IMG_1530.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnASumRWdlbZU9aoExohsELWxDvsZuL9JbI5md9VxRwJXE1S_Xj_EodonrUeLWRhlc9Sr7efgIawq0N8wSnnEL4HHWGLJ0po21hGn2n7jUYMC6SIAQ7jfoMn4Cvd4iJhkrS2prgg/s1600/HLIOP.SP.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmFkpKaMTtf3rwJuJGn0c9aruHw_3Nyzy0ym9xuZ0gEayN1Ps6aNsuUmQnp4Z5vTdCEu64YsF4MSw0jNyeTXnSiD-Row3uQ4l0yWqMutixNki4eUMqRFDhi0HiBPNUxxt-xEHsA/s1600/xmas1911.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1230" data-original-width="966" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmFkpKaMTtf3rwJuJGn0c9aruHw_3Nyzy0ym9xuZ0gEayN1Ps6aNsuUmQnp4Z5vTdCEu64YsF4MSw0jNyeTXnSiD-Row3uQ4l0yWqMutixNki4eUMqRFDhi0HiBPNUxxt-xEHsA/s400/xmas1911.png" width="313" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;">Adam was the first of the brothers to find a bride. Greek women were scarce in Washington at the time, but luckily he found </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); color: #323333;">Kalliope Condrackos (Katy) i</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;">n Philadelphia- probably through a candy store connection. He married her in 1912 and brought her back to Washington where they raised a fine crop of girls named Jean, Mary and Thetis.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUTdsB2yZKliSe51Yp926pkIdAqlTs0rKdDD-MZhl4lQe9msFwNg4b1VQIMz2dmwRybbaqTaK5o2SDby_FXEtahoSAIC9gGAxRWOX3T9nA07zYHuv0MoFUmsxA3uMc5n9TnhQLsA/s1600/greek+fam+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1074" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUTdsB2yZKliSe51Yp926pkIdAqlTs0rKdDD-MZhl4lQe9msFwNg4b1VQIMz2dmwRybbaqTaK5o2SDby_FXEtahoSAIC9gGAxRWOX3T9nA07zYHuv0MoFUmsxA3uMc5n9TnhQLsA/s400/greek+fam+5.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
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Pete was the next brother to get hitched. My grandmother Pota Haralampakos had lost her father in Greece and was sent to live with her brother Tom, another candy man, in New Jersey. My dad always told me that Tom's wife Christine was none too thrilled about the arrangement. I'm guessing none of them were judging by this photo from about 1912.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMiO6uBpawz35OlYRMozrqg-s5Jyj-Fl1MxLDYrbSHYF4sWmP7MawJcq-rIgB5YpxoR3VDZh3mMOu-MOTI2UPjZxjiCrVzCKrJWUQVpPMCJchywE-GrkWgd4aqykl228rdDXyNqw/s1600/Pota+and+Tom+Haralampakos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1258" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMiO6uBpawz35OlYRMozrqg-s5Jyj-Fl1MxLDYrbSHYF4sWmP7MawJcq-rIgB5YpxoR3VDZh3mMOu-MOTI2UPjZxjiCrVzCKrJWUQVpPMCJchywE-GrkWgd4aqykl228rdDXyNqw/s320/Pota+and+Tom+Haralampakos.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
Fortunately Pete found Pota through the confectioner's grapevine. In July 1914, he took a train up to Elizabeth, New Jersey to get hitched. The two were married at 3 p.m. and promptly took the 6 o' clock train back to D.C. So much for a honeymoon. No time for wedding pictures either, but this might have been the picture that caught Pete's eye in the first place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinvgBEEJCEf5Gs1xdo0ugniD3fMIZTAMwCIIGM1rQtlpuFjmp-m62d0kITVBCEGsrmpP2MmYTlX-D-pY64ncuwQpiaSZLx7DDRfYc5VTMDrfmKLzmrffIE8RHdv-13evSYSxZA2A/s1600/pota+haralampakos+cokinos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinvgBEEJCEf5Gs1xdo0ugniD3fMIZTAMwCIIGM1rQtlpuFjmp-m62d0kITVBCEGsrmpP2MmYTlX-D-pY64ncuwQpiaSZLx7DDRfYc5VTMDrfmKLzmrffIE8RHdv-13evSYSxZA2A/s320/pota+haralampakos+cokinos.jpg" width="205" /></a></div>
Pota and Pete lived above the candy shop on H Street NE. Their first baby Catherine came along in April 1915- a respectable nine months after their marriage. In 1916 they bought a nearby row house on 11th Street NE. George was born at home that same year in April, nine months after his parents' first anniversary. Their last child Nick was also born in April a few years later which tells you a thing or two about their matrimonial schedule.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAdN2MXNLE8Gwj5DaGPGoM-iN6Tjwa3pvSrf9-UDulVCPvjAD_BJmXlxaPj7uaW7ZOc74Qjl4CI4lBwwHnysSdfPCQCGo9-Gecx5-YZwQKMaSSLzFL6rDGHbAQgSC5BU1S35qNQ/s1600/hp_scanDS_1132215145421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="848" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAdN2MXNLE8Gwj5DaGPGoM-iN6Tjwa3pvSrf9-UDulVCPvjAD_BJmXlxaPj7uaW7ZOc74Qjl4CI4lBwwHnysSdfPCQCGo9-Gecx5-YZwQKMaSSLzFL6rDGHbAQgSC5BU1S35qNQ/s400/hp_scanDS_1132215145421.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Back at the candy shop, the children weren't allowed to sample the wares, but George had a powerful sweet tooth. He took to wearing a bulky overcoat with lots of pockets- both during the winter and suspiciously summer, too. This get-up allowed him to become an intrepid shoplifter. He claimed he lost all his baby teeth to his voracious sugar habit, but despite my father's thievery, the stores were a success, and he grew up to have a fine set of choppers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBu7RiaNg7BChryrfo95fEEZKKKpoIcw-28c6MvWH1VyoGMgem4YI82pWy3dDS79FjgXIfyv8cwY6CccIz3Eq4MWbpcoA9UnbjSgf4CZgboXmqH9CuPTo6nQ-PeAObeVYmJIehCA/s1600/1103+H+St++NE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBu7RiaNg7BChryrfo95fEEZKKKpoIcw-28c6MvWH1VyoGMgem4YI82pWy3dDS79FjgXIfyv8cwY6CccIz3Eq4MWbpcoA9UnbjSgf4CZgboXmqH9CuPTo6nQ-PeAObeVYmJIehCA/s1600/1103+H+St++NE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cokinos Family on H Street NE abt 1920</td></tr>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-81319732688803544472018-12-10T09:03:00.001-05:002022-03-07T18:23:10.005-05:00Part One : How The Cokinos Brothers Came to D.C.<div style="color: #042eee; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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Once upon a time nine children grew up in a large house in a tiny Greek village called Agulinitsa. The village was very close to the sea and not far from Olympia where the ancient games were held. The family had olive groves and farmland nearby, but three of the brothers, including my grandfather Pete, and his brothers Adam and Alec decided America held more opportunity. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxPd3CtA22Gx9JA42VSXVTdHoqnVU9BCfj3WAxxymq9KaV8Qk5aOGoJgSnmyhbpyMJQaB0Iso_GbcVvtBW6AYd094e4nF1SIIE-BYDZpAfutacG8U60puOMchqGd2rOz8T6dbTA/s1600/peter+cokinos+OLD%2521.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1571" data-original-width="1163" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxPd3CtA22Gx9JA42VSXVTdHoqnVU9BCfj3WAxxymq9KaV8Qk5aOGoJgSnmyhbpyMJQaB0Iso_GbcVvtBW6AYd094e4nF1SIIE-BYDZpAfutacG8U60puOMchqGd2rOz8T6dbTA/s400/peter+cokinos+OLD%2521.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
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The first time I visited Agulinitsa in 1988, it just boggled my mind to think of how Pete and his brothers got out of Dodge in the early 1900s. I pictured them riding donkeys or perhaps walking over the mountains, carrying their things in a rucksack. My vivid imagination and horrible sense of history both overlooked the fact of a railroad. Years later I realized I had missed seeing the tiny station the first time I was there. It was the size of a bus stop. Pete and his brothers only had to walk a few blocks to catch a train to the port of Patras.<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0H3CVOZ7uivbuDzuDxGTRcPlfKV6PPi5iV-T0WTXBvH1oINCp1EIDKm_lqf5QIZvJjOwH_qYGlhoQ7d6pLSFU8IRSu-2Nivge4NX57A5qa7esjH4yGpmQeLUMlsMLyo-OYd41sw/s1600/IMG_1530.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1123" data-original-width="1600" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0H3CVOZ7uivbuDzuDxGTRcPlfKV6PPi5iV-T0WTXBvH1oINCp1EIDKm_lqf5QIZvJjOwH_qYGlhoQ7d6pLSFU8IRSu-2Nivge4NX57A5qa7esjH4yGpmQeLUMlsMLyo-OYd41sw/w640-h448/IMG_1530.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZF8M3humX_Qbhawtgbn-_hbfGyzqAP3Je3vlN7Uyt86dXbVQ9gQO4vA0ghvHYGZKKSWNW1-3hYQ8C98neJUQwa3uLe7m36_kOmIVtXjxSwDtQ50_ePCmPf9OCJ4AL6MF_2Ggcbg/s1600/IMG_1530.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnASumRWdlbZU9aoExohsELWxDvsZuL9JbI5md9VxRwJXE1S_Xj_EodonrUeLWRhlc9Sr7efgIawq0N8wSnnEL4HHWGLJ0po21hGn2n7jUYMC6SIAQ7jfoMn4Cvd4iJhkrS2prgg/s1600/HLIOP.SP.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">Digging into history, I discovered that our cousin James was actually the first Cokinos to arrive from Agulinitsa. He landed in Wilmington, Delaware in 1903 and worked in the candy business there until his cousin Pete joined him two years later. They moved to Washington soon after and opened a confectionary called </span>the Sugar Bowl at 721 8th Street SE. The two lived above the shop and made candy and ice cream in the basement by hand until there was enough money to bring over more family. In 1908 they sent for Adam and opened another store at 1203 H Street NE. The next year Pete and James moved to H Street to make room for James' brother Daniel and Pete's brother Alec. </div>
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Business was booming.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnlooIHUemXcg5oayrcKOv_tq-xvacLTOWIURCWBKEKaHCcKDuXHRSp-e_rRyCWP0augXQsokw_CSpBCghd5X9u3CDKzuXrjFCD7zIGxMNTpqG8y5es3FgYWSZbaJxgsZWgMJRg/s1600/scan_71127204920_1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="1042" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnlooIHUemXcg5oayrcKOv_tq-xvacLTOWIURCWBKEKaHCcKDuXHRSp-e_rRyCWP0augXQsokw_CSpBCghd5X9u3CDKzuXrjFCD7zIGxMNTpqG8y5es3FgYWSZbaJxgsZWgMJRg/s400/scan_71127204920_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alec and Pete at 1203 H Street NE abt 1910</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">The crew soon opened another candy store at 909 41/2 Street SE which I have now learned was not a typo in the DC street directory, but an actual thing. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #323333;">Creative math was part of <a href="https://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/news/article/13026197/half-life"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #1255cc;">a 1905 plan t</span></a>o further organize the city on an alphabetical and numerical grid. This street and the neighborhood were eventually wiped out in the 1950s in the name of “urban renewal,” but now the area has a new baseball stadium and a revitalized waterfront. A nearby historic plaque remembers 4 ½ Street as a major shopping destination in its day. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjcMB10BGUseh3WG_MLYCaYZw6bLZItGfjqP45mUPElYSvT7-8DTYIeCugEAoX6jDYe3tDNG36hGCH74-swl4WItYirOvc8mJiYVS5kLqcK1kx3bkJVt3ZgQqz8SaqlbN1DVQUg/s1600/20810r-jolsonsparentshouse-dcf.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="616" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjcMB10BGUseh3WG_MLYCaYZw6bLZItGfjqP45mUPElYSvT7-8DTYIeCugEAoX6jDYe3tDNG36hGCH74-swl4WItYirOvc8mJiYVS5kLqcK1kx3bkJVt3ZgQqz8SaqlbN1DVQUg/s400/20810r-jolsonsparentshouse-dcf.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 1/2 Street SW (Library of Congress) </td></tr>
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In 1910 the Cokinos Brothers opened the last store of their empire. This one was at 924 9th Street NW - a block from where the ever growing Greek community had just bought property to build St Sophia's church at 8th and L. (Smart cookies, eh?)<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-39934295705978637662017-07-07T12:38:00.002-04:002018-02-22T10:26:43.937-05:00Washington D.C. My Hometown -The Musical<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidRQrqswEj39-_-Uf0rnYSUkPBvBTGyzgM-E1LCn595XFN0LdQc1fXiAyqwPcSGdBPcmDqarqOc1XJBHz7n01hpYkphhWPbzv6BLLT4rCigUMhUtMRX5_5dFoGaujL7_Xf1zgGtg/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="438" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidRQrqswEj39-_-Uf0rnYSUkPBvBTGyzgM-E1LCn595XFN0LdQc1fXiAyqwPcSGdBPcmDqarqOc1XJBHz7n01hpYkphhWPbzv6BLLT4rCigUMhUtMRX5_5dFoGaujL7_Xf1zgGtg/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>
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Once upon a time not so very long ago, John Landers, a song collector was wandering the land of Google when he tumbled across this blog and sent the above picture. He wondered if I was hip to the swinging version of "Washington, DC. My Hometown."<br />
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What?!!<br />
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Yes, D.C., there is a song. Made for our area radio station WWDC to be exact.<br />
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Back in the early 1960s, the mad men of "PAMS," the Production Advertising Merchandising Service, came up with the bright idea of making customized "My Hometown" songs for local radio stations. The musical format for each town is basically the same with local attractions plugged into the lyrics.<br />
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"The Red Sox and Celtics have both brought Boston fame.<br />
Drive on in on Route Number Nine, you'll be glad you came."<br />
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Terry Lee Jenkins seems to have done many of the vocals, and I swear to god the band could be our own <a href="https://www.facebook.com/The-Hula-Monsters-162144817149637/">Hula Monsters</a>, but these ditties were produced long before their time. Thanks to Youtube you can hear the ones made for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmySHsVvZKo">PAMS Birmingham</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulRO5UVXPcM">WCAO Baltimore</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VB4MuDm1a60">WPLO Atlanta</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6mZo4VQMm8">KXOL Fort Worth</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=woQHbQc8HOQ">Chattanooga</a>, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52XoG0iBJBM">WCOP Boston</a>.<br />
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Sadly Washington's version seems to be lost in the mists of time. I contacted WWDC, but had no luck with their archives. Please let us know if you have the digital or the vinyl. Otherwise we'll have to make up our own words....<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-21848429709999123682017-04-03T10:22:00.001-04:002019-03-28T07:50:41.802-04:00Take Me Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8RAGrxrHwFCHMZy4M2cXqXEVldyJe_CKudN8CxiEc0lctcLpEp9Tx6qe7puumBmS6Xa8jCNgy17Wxb-Hv4Il41-yacQCeyYLEhF1nXyYfs868EZYsWqwZIjR7G2FdWK71o0mSQ/s1600/Times+2+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8RAGrxrHwFCHMZy4M2cXqXEVldyJe_CKudN8CxiEc0lctcLpEp9Tx6qe7puumBmS6Xa8jCNgy17Wxb-Hv4Il41-yacQCeyYLEhF1nXyYfs868EZYsWqwZIjR7G2FdWK71o0mSQ/s400/Times+2+7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In 1929 my mother Bebe and her little brother Roger Jr lived in the Broadmoor Apartments on Connecticut Avenue. Their parents were the building's first managers, and that brought unexpected perks. Bebe remembered a lot of Senators at the Broadmoor. Not so much the politicians, but real live baseball players. In the house! The whole family got free passes for games at <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #042eee;"><a href="http://www.ballparksofbaseball.com/ballparks/griffith-stadium/">Griffith Stadium</a>, </span> and the great pitcher Walter Johnson and my grandfather Roger became friends when he came back to coach the team. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8-ulZ6dgEyBMVm2lVswLklu8jlFD1BvlBw2M0LcaMP5lUsLUx5umu-gPipPlLbBYbOoC6M_11WmWU7sb4b1mje-3mV52l1mPKcd-UunCeTYkLeJvs-IhDR06uTdMhJR9YnDoxw/s1600/11506a_lg.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8-ulZ6dgEyBMVm2lVswLklu8jlFD1BvlBw2M0LcaMP5lUsLUx5umu-gPipPlLbBYbOoC6M_11WmWU7sb4b1mje-3mV52l1mPKcd-UunCeTYkLeJvs-IhDR06uTdMhJR9YnDoxw/s400/11506a_lg.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;">In 1972, we lost our team to Texas, and my parents never converted to Baltimore. I don't love sports, but </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;">I do like the pace of baseball which allows plenty of time for eating and talking in between (and during) innings. </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;"> I will always have a warm spot for the "O's," but I definitely miss Memorial Stadium where Earl Weaver tended his tomato plants. If memory serves me, I think it was a dollar for a bag of peanuts on the way in and five for a bleacher seat, and I could always find my friend Dan Elwood commandeering an entire section with a bunch of friends and Budweisers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;">Things have come full circle now with a team back in town and a new ball park on the Anacostia. </span><br />
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Last year my son was lucky enough to score Nats tickets from a friend. He rode his bike to the ball park on a balmy Tuesday night, perhaps starting another tradition of keeping baseball in the family. </div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-67384508896702328702016-12-25T10:51:00.000-05:002018-12-09T16:16:31.439-05:00A Ghost of Christmas Past<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1AHRK1QcGvW5uLyCLE4zoLi1lUIWLQoBLdsTa9465KlbB_gKL98TkQo7-HoMPnKQPS0nuOT4O1zJZttt-P1dayRoLQ80yyL1dvZiipgchF4EoAO-wBCni0EBfgE8O3m7VD0h/s1600/fb156ff21dbbb8c4e764db1ca04b766c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1AHRK1QcGvW5uLyCLE4zoLi1lUIWLQoBLdsTa9465KlbB_gKL98TkQo7-HoMPnKQPS0nuOT4O1zJZttt-P1dayRoLQ80yyL1dvZiipgchF4EoAO-wBCni0EBfgE8O3m7VD0h/s320/fb156ff21dbbb8c4e764db1ca04b766c.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Every year I think this is it. This is the year I will sit down and write those pesky Christmas cards. I save the return address labels. I have a box of blank cards. I have a pen, but I never seem to get past perusing the previous year's mail. Poignantly, I just found a card from Billie Stathes, my father's oldest friend who died about a month ago. They met around 1922 when she was five, and he was six.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7LAmMecodRAdSoe4ZSWKrmZFDd8WQpb2cYiSDC6oL-7hh9TvOqFUuug2Rzx3OVuh5aJEqwvuh0kgIZhk_knCmwEi5i4vtG6zLtpBIOR3l77_M-MV24skFklT-66Nz2xB6C6T/s1600/Scanned+Image+141950001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7LAmMecodRAdSoe4ZSWKrmZFDd8WQpb2cYiSDC6oL-7hh9TvOqFUuug2Rzx3OVuh5aJEqwvuh0kgIZhk_knCmwEi5i4vtG6zLtpBIOR3l77_M-MV24skFklT-66Nz2xB6C6T/s400/Scanned+Image+141950001.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billie at five</td></tr>
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Billie lived at 1832 8th Street NW with her parents James and Cleopatra Stathes, her baby brother John and her Uncle George. She called her neighborhood "the village," and her world was anchored by her favorite place, the Carnegie Library. She remembered four gas stations, a variety of shops and the original St Sophia's Greek Orthodox Church were all part of her hood. Billie could also recall the days when the congregation rented space from the Adas Israel Synagogue on 6th and G. This is where she met my father - a zany little boy who loved playing the clown.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1fspCb8pzsIDU99fxGPs6JPiQYIaF6QwYACsAeFZPlNprOtxKWWt89M-RJg18Xml09SnmKIBn4scdYXhrJVzv3Iqv8Jw1v13SZkxYMCmvWTRQFAa4gOs2DGQxLpjFFSNrnmr/s1600/SCAN0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1fspCb8pzsIDU99fxGPs6JPiQYIaF6QwYACsAeFZPlNprOtxKWWt89M-RJg18Xml09SnmKIBn4scdYXhrJVzv3Iqv8Jw1v13SZkxYMCmvWTRQFAa4gOs2DGQxLpjFFSNrnmr/s320/SCAN0030.jpg" width="264" /></a></div>
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Billie and George were lifelong friends; both lived to see ninety and beyond in good health. Even when Billie moved to Florida and became a teacher, they still stayed in touch. She was always beautifully turned out and took no guff.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtaHhdwbz0uH4EN-cnmz7SNDH2KdIRMEm35_aGiQ7i1bwkICbvNMCqjjKmG-OQhUv-oE_t0H-3PcuqJLp89Jdhvg8eGDYG7BjWlMjFkWM7K28IijC0sgPdYzrpXsq9OR5Y_Um/s1600/DSCN2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtaHhdwbz0uH4EN-cnmz7SNDH2KdIRMEm35_aGiQ7i1bwkICbvNMCqjjKmG-OQhUv-oE_t0H-3PcuqJLp89Jdhvg8eGDYG7BjWlMjFkWM7K28IijC0sgPdYzrpXsq9OR5Y_Um/s320/DSCN2008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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When Billie came to my dad's funeral in 2008, she gave me a detailed map of her long lost village drawn from her memories and rendered by her cousin Nick Chacos. I was so excited that I took it to the Carnegie Library, but the staff wasn't really sure what to do with it. Feeling the need to share this cool little piece of history, I wrote about it, and six years later, thanks to historian Mara Cherkasky, <a href="http://cokinosgirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/mount-vernon-place-once-upon-time.html">that posting </a>would lead to Billie's picture landing on a new sign commemorating the old neighborhood near where the Greek church stood at 8th and L NW.<br />
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In 2014, a busload of St Sophia's current parishioners and clergy went on a crazy little field trip to an empty and seemingly soul-less convention room. The only furnishing was a makeshift altar which took on a deeper significance when the crowd discovered they were standing as close as possible to where the original altar stood. (Not an easy trick considering this block of 8th Street is part of the building now.) After a few prayers, Father Steve led the group chanting through the front hall and out the door to the new sign. Here he thereby sealed the deal by flinging holy water and olive branches around as Greeks are wont to do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylYP02soKVrM26fghh9kxRtU9uSUpk6TFFF4ZNFqdd8cZgaWhdCJwPSBfcNRpe0QRip9wAIOpCSojx3L5hTq3vHzFylVVIf9x5ZCJHJp4m9cSZo_daz-PkEqnrTj3A8gRtnEJ/s1600/unspecified-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylYP02soKVrM26fghh9kxRtU9uSUpk6TFFF4ZNFqdd8cZgaWhdCJwPSBfcNRpe0QRip9wAIOpCSojx3L5hTq3vHzFylVVIf9x5ZCJHJp4m9cSZo_daz-PkEqnrTj3A8gRtnEJ/s400/unspecified-1.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Father Steve Blessing "Billie's" Sign</td></tr>
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Billie was thrilled to find out she was included in the project, and that a picture of her and her Uncle George are on the sign. On that last Christmas card she thanked me for sending her pictures of everything. She was ninety seven when she wrote: "I wept for a week when I saw my village from long ago. I became seven again, getting ready to take my gang to the library for a couple of hours." She was nearing one hundred when she died, still as independent as ever and living at home in Coral Gables.<br />
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Next time you are near the convention center "village," look for Billie and her Uncle George and say hello to this little ghost of DC's past.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwrhsy8KbJaDlQsf6_LaYXzGw5XgpiAHH2r6qLUPcrrV6pvlS57RktgTN-YvXWxjv_ORdUFaDV9m2JWnfyKuVJ44p85a9Um65hlgscP-pqQ8ps7kmoCsOVxNwaDjuqQA8hnRi/s1600/unspecified-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwrhsy8KbJaDlQsf6_LaYXzGw5XgpiAHH2r6qLUPcrrV6pvlS57RktgTN-YvXWxjv_ORdUFaDV9m2JWnfyKuVJ44p85a9Um65hlgscP-pqQ8ps7kmoCsOVxNwaDjuqQA8hnRi/s400/unspecified-2.jpeg" width="232" /></a></div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-77612217065297816302016-05-28T13:24:00.000-04:002018-02-22T10:15:04.212-05:00Memorialis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0ujL8puA7xjy7E6YlaA0e-S7Cp6V-TX6B1IiFRrRNknM0WQNncS4WrrKPMvFtAG9n9KNH3F-OCEBuv_vGQKBiLk8RswGaJIcCO8Yxko1Ef8Fb85os8km5a0UQskddB3QyyDB/s1600/329096d8a116d60c35abc96b1480b4f8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0ujL8puA7xjy7E6YlaA0e-S7Cp6V-TX6B1IiFRrRNknM0WQNncS4WrrKPMvFtAG9n9KNH3F-OCEBuv_vGQKBiLk8RswGaJIcCO8Yxko1Ef8Fb85os8km5a0UQskddB3QyyDB/s400/329096d8a116d60c35abc96b1480b4f8.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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Memorial Day plan?<br />
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Thinkin' Lincoln I am.<br />
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"Lincoln's Cottage" was built in 1842, high on a hill, originally as a summer retreat for local banker George Riggs. In 1851 the property was sold to the U.S. government to become the Old Soldiers' Home, but once the fellows were relocated to a newer building, the cottage was offered to President Buchanan and subsequent presidents as a summer get away. <br />
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Lincoln was eager to escape the pressures of the White House in the early 1860s although, ironically, he was an eyewitness to both the recovering and the dead buried on the grounds. He would ride there unaccompanied by guards if he could swing it, and survived having his hat shot off by an unknown assailant one evening during a moonlit commute. I was told by a tour guide that travel time back then was shorter by horseback than it is today by car which tells you something about just how bad our traffic has become.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenJJGf7CEMcqNlJbo4CeWrGoaKXy0axweAScYEJgwd_HDEwMtseJX0jISj_uA85AC5tm8n6hF56CJAWe87UmXn7ZXbTLIbX6WRHG22izPCQQVyqvS1bKIgI0XDaJSYl-jtAVq/s1600/3313416055_0b59ec6e7c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenJJGf7CEMcqNlJbo4CeWrGoaKXy0axweAScYEJgwd_HDEwMtseJX0jISj_uA85AC5tm8n6hF56CJAWe87UmXn7ZXbTLIbX6WRHG22izPCQQVyqvS1bKIgI0XDaJSYl-jtAVq/s400/3313416055_0b59ec6e7c.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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For years afterwards, the cottage was pressed into service for a variety of uses including as a bar for the retired soldiers which I'll bet Mary Todd tried to haunt with disapproval. Finally in 2008, the house became part of our National Trust as a non-profit historic site open to the public. <br />
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This <b>Monday </b>there will be <a href="http://www.lincolncottage.org/memorialday2016/">a free wreath laying ceremony at 10 a.m. and tours of the cemetery</a> a bit later. I am happy to report bringing a picnic is encouraged. I also highly recommend <a href="http://www.lincolncottage.org/visit/hours-tickets-location-and-directions/">getting tickets</a> for the tour of the house where the views of Washington from the original windows let your imagination run wild. Grasp the same railing Lincoln used to walk upstairs and commune with the man who tried his best to save the Union.<br />
No easy task then or now.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-89172696211112284142015-06-21T00:00:00.000-04:002019-06-17T08:35:50.151-04:00Thanks to My DC Dad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPCloB5RU7Olm6Wc7XoTmqp81zTl_Ws0dFISs-61IrYi7FoWUYXyaj8203J13vh8d_wD5Gzgwk_7XfBHPRgnGUhLT-fJmdcwBLRG43WHqsXlNh7WgH-b_y0zEvA4GZrCVzEFBaA/s1600/Scanned+Image+150550004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPCloB5RU7Olm6Wc7XoTmqp81zTl_Ws0dFISs-61IrYi7FoWUYXyaj8203J13vh8d_wD5Gzgwk_7XfBHPRgnGUhLT-fJmdcwBLRG43WHqsXlNh7WgH-b_y0zEvA4GZrCVzEFBaA/s400/Scanned+Image+150550004.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Since I lost my dad some years ago, Father's Day has become a time to remember things. George Cokinos was born at home on 9th Street Northeast to Greek immigrants in 1916. He grew up here and never left the DC area except to travel. We didn't sightsee unless we had out of town guests. We didn't go to the Smithsonian or other museums, but he did leave me an appreciation for living in the District, and I'd like to thank him for many things:<br />
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<b>Taking me to the zoo.</b> A lot. Sometimes just on the spur of the moment, sometimes for a birthday. I suspect he liked it because it was uptown, free and outdoors. I remember he would park our station wagon right near the elephant house and partly on the sidewalk. Crazy, right? He had a little home made sign that he would put on the dashboard which said "Modern Linen -Making Delivery." That seemed to do the trick.<br />
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<b>All those DC stories. </b>George worked mostly in the restaurant world, and he had the low down on<b> </b><a href="http://cokinosgirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/farewell-av-ristorante.html">how the Italian statues got into AV's yard </a>on New York Avenue, or how Ulysses "Blackie" Auger got his start after World War Two when everyone was craving meat after years of rationing. He sold steaks from the trunk of his car for a short time, but soon opened his own place called "The Minute Grille." When he had made enough dough to buy the property at 21st and M, he called it Blackie's House of Beef. The kitchen was in terrible shape. One day my father and Uncle Mimi happened by to see the new place, and Blackie asked whether he should spend his money on improving the kitchen or buy a sign. My father said go for the sign, and that's exactly what happened. It was a big sign!</div>
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<b><br />Introducing me to DC centric food </b><br />
George always asked for a half smoke over a hotdog. He also liked the fried chicken wing sandwich at the Florida Avenue Grill which came with another story. Chewing right through the cartilage and spitting out the bones, he would talk about how his parents would have the priest from St Sophia's over for Sunday dinners when he was a kid. The chicken on the table only went so far with a family of five and an honored guest. The priest would get the biggest piece, and my grandfather would get the next biggest and so it went. My grandmother always insisted that "Georgie loved the wing." I guess it happened so many times that he believed it, too.<br />
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<b style="text-align: center;">Teaching me how to drive with impunity. </b><span style="text-align: center;">Technically I learned to drive a VW bug with a driver's ed teacher, but my father taught me the finer points of operating a motor vehicle with his mind bending lane changes on the Beltway and sometimes stunning U turns on avenues around the city. Even though he constantly scared the crap out of my mother, he gave me a lot of confidence behind the wheel. And unlike my mother, he taught me how to pump my own gas.</span></div>
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<b>Taking me to see the Watergate concerts. </b>I feel like I dreamed this, but there once was a floating barge on the Potomac River where concerts were held. The band played on the float, and the audience sat in folding chairs in the road or on the steps leading up hill to the Lincoln Memorial. After I grew up, I caught the movie "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Houseboat_(film)">Houseboat</a>" on TV and realized it was the same venue the kids went to with Cary Grant. <br />
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It's a good thing they caught that era on film because I can't imagine stopping traffic for anything like that now. Once upon a time the staircase was meant to be part of a grand entrance into the city, but now it's just a strangely marvelous out of place phenomenon on Ohio Drive.<br />
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<b>Taking me to Sherrill's Bakery. </b>When I first met the "girls," as George called them, Lola, the owner, started yelling at him in Greek as soon as we walked in. She seemed angry and scary to me. Her daughters Kiki and Dottie were less frightening, but I didn't know what was going until the scene devolved into pinching cheeks and handing out cookies. They loved my father and were scolding him for not coming by more often.<br />
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The bakery was once a mainstay on Capitol Hill and served breakfast, lunch and dinner 364 days a year in a time capsule of a 1940s diner which is when Lola and her husband Sam Rivas bought the place. A cigarette machine and a fortune telling scale flanked the front door, and I thought it was cool we didn't have to pay for the cookies. Former busboy and local film maker David Petersen almost won an Oscar and did win a well deserved Emmy for capturing those crazy and hard working women and their customers in his documentary <a href="https://vimeo.com/102183167">"Fine Food and Pastries."</a> Hit the link to see it as there's nothing left of Sherrill's except memories now. <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/local/2001/12/06/sherrills-restaurant-owner-lola-revis-dies/050a25e9-06b5-4362-895a-1be250da54e3/?utm_term=.0fa292529c15"> Lola</a> worked at the diner until she was 92 years old, but had to quit after a fall.</div>
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<b>Showing me how the linen service worked.</b> In the 1950s my dad and my Uncle Mimi started a company called Modern Linen which meant I got to go through the back doors of a lot of restaurants and meet the people in the kitchen. I worked at the laundry in the summertime and saw how all consuming the restaurant biz was. Customers were constantly having crises. They would run out of clean napkins or dish towels after hours, sometimes a delivery truck would break down, and my brother or a cousins would have to jump in and drive the order in a car. When I decided to be a sign painter my senior year in high school, I think my father thought I was nuts, but he let me paint the trucks, and that was the last time I worked at a laundry. </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-67605112410241311742015-05-07T08:53:00.006-04:002023-01-16T10:01:20.478-05:00Soliloquy for St Sophia's Greek Orthodox Church<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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St Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral has always been a part of my life. It's the church my family didn't attend. At least, not very often. My grandparents were all in from the get-go and rarely missed a Sunday, but my mother was not Greek which meant she and my father couldn't get married at St Sophia's unless she converted. Plus they both worked at Churchills, our family diner, often until 2 a.m. And Churchills was open on Sundays.<br />
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Still, my dad literally paid his dues to St Sophia's, and we went there for all the important rituals like christenings, funerals and bazaars. A lot of bazaars. My dad always bought raffle tickets for the Cadillac even though in over fifty years he never won and had to buy his own.<br />
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Driving down Wisconsin Avenue, it's easy to miss Saint Sophia sitting quietly in the shadow of the National Cathedral on Massachusetts Avenue. The bigger cathedral has held many a state affair, but the staff at St Sophia have waved over a few presidents starting with Dwight D. Eisenhower who laid the cornerstone in 1956. A time capsule was included and will be opened in 2056. (I'm probably going to miss that event just like I missed this one.)<br />
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St Sophia's has seen the likes of Presidents Johnson, Nixon, Ford, and Clinton. Plus a few football players.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(That's Father John- the one without a football or plaid pants)</span></td></tr>
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The church began humbly enough back in the early 1900s when a few hundred Greek immigrants scraped together enough money to rent a room downtown and to hire an itinerant priest. A Washington Star article in 1904 reported "in the heart of the Nation's Capital dwells a community of nearly 500 souls whose lives, customs, religion...are utterly alien to our institutions. It is the Greek colony. They are among us, but not of us."<br />
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Wonder where they got that idea?<br />
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By 1908 the parish was organized enough to have its own priest and to rent the upstairs of the former Adas Israel Synagogue at 6th and G NW where it remained for 13 years awaiting the construction of their own digs at 8th and L NW.<br />
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Though the congregation was small, differences of opinion soon brought on strife courtesy of the Balkan Wars. Father Alexopoulos asked the congregation to take a stand by separating- the Loyalists had to sit on one side of the church and the Royalists on the other. (talk about division in the aisles) This is why even before St Sophia had its own building, another church, St Helen and Constantine came into being in at 6th and C Street SW. Father Lambrides, one of St. Sophia's early priests, was so passionate about politics that he vowed to his congregation that he would rather die than celebrate the return of the throne to King Constantine. He had a heart attack that night and died the next day according to his obituary. Wow.<br />
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St Sophia finally did land at 8th and L in 1921 and stayed put for 34 years. The convention center has swallowed those blocks now- including part of 8th Street. A commemorative marker stands nearby on 7th Street and was blessed by Father Steve last fall in a ceremony held in room 140A exactly where the original nave of the old St Sophia's was.<br />
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Even the sign got baptized.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">photo by Bill Petros</span></td></tr>
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The new Cathedral was dreamed up in the late 1940s as the congregation grew. Property was bought at 34th and Massachusetts, and the ground was blessed in 1950, though the church wouldn't be ready until 1955, and the plain walls would take many more years to adorn.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hPyLEMGLg3W7_r1e00BKb7YDIcXuCZiX5gGJRCuRd5NBc_urfihvm43PV30UXF1t0E_a4TSL7Bmy0FMzxC1FcE1T1t4d30c4TlNvYSIxhJ-lg3_m4aZ9X7sFEKDnVRRrzyhAPg/s1600/Scan+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hPyLEMGLg3W7_r1e00BKb7YDIcXuCZiX5gGJRCuRd5NBc_urfihvm43PV30UXF1t0E_a4TSL7Bmy0FMzxC1FcE1T1t4d30c4TlNvYSIxhJ-lg3_m4aZ9X7sFEKDnVRRrzyhAPg/s400/Scan+2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />The founders in the weeds of the new site of St Sophia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This weekend St Sophia will celebrate its 60th year on Massachusetts Avenue and will be consecrated with as much hoopla as only Greeks can muster complete with saint's bones, incense and a whole lot of chanting. If you have ever been to a Greek ceremony you know this will take all weekend. Every inch of the cathedral has been transformed into a beautiful work of art, built with many years of hard work and long term dreams.<br />
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/jumpstart/wp-email-code.gif</div>Cokinoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10073322923154333980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35887789.post-1132049201182854782013-06-03T15:12:00.000-04:002018-12-09T10:35:28.950-05:00Skipping School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As soon as the weather turns nice, John Payne, one of my local heroes and the prefect of discipline at the Duke Ellington School, is on the move. He does't just sit in his office noting absences. Oh no. This man actively tracks down his prey whether the errant student has slipped off to Georgetown or is enjoying a park just down the street. A lot of people in my family have attended DC public schools including my parents, and during my son's tenure at Ellington, I noticed another theme running through our family: truancy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">First there's my mother and father. Bebe and George met at Western High (now Duke Ellington) in the 1930s. My mother remembers picnics outside of school with my father. He had a a Model A Ford for a quick escape, and more importantly, </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">two </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">sandwiches in his bag because my Greek grandmother was sure he would starve while away at school all day.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete and Bebe 1940s</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For my oldest brother, Pete, skipping school in the 1950s meant he and his buddy Pete Stone would head for movie theaters like the RKO, the Capitol and the Palace. Back then going to the movies also included not only a newsreel and a cartoon, but often a stage show, and my brother swears he once saw Peggy Lee. Unfortunately for my brother, our father's spies were everywhere, and he was caught more often than not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My sister Pat, the good girl of the family, also remembers skipping school with Pete Stone, Wilson's expert truant at the time. This is her story:</span><br />
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"Back in the day, skipping school was easy if you knew the right people. Pete was a senior, and I was a lowly freshman. He plotted with me one evening to go to Fletcher's Boat House, and the next day, he handled the attendance records by commandeering the girl in charge. She erased my name and his from the absentee list. We then drove to the boat house, rented a canoe, and down the Potomac we went at lightning speed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That should have been our first clue that things would end badly.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">We spent the rest of the day trying to paddle back against the current. Finally, somewhere around the Tidal Basin, we were able to get the canoe out of the water. We carried the friggin' thing all the way back to Fletcher's. Returning home much later than usual and in agony with the aches of hauling a canoe over my head and a fresh sunburn, I now had to explain to the parents where I had been. I was astonished when they accepted my tall tale about too much sun during the field hockey game, but I never risked skipping school again."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Finally in more recent years, when my daughter, Zoe skipped school at Wilson, she was inadvertently caught due to Homeland Security. She and a friend had snuck out out, just for a quick run down the block to get a soda, but during her very brief absence the entire city went into lock down mode. (Remember the Bush Administration?) Getting out was easy, but to Zoe's horror, when she returned the doors were locked, and she couldn't get back in. That's when the truancy officers picked her up, took her downtown and made her call her parents. This cured her... for a while. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">In the end I am happy to report that all of the truants in this story recieved their diplomas- even my brother Pete.</span><br />
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