It's Just Too Hard To Keep Fear Alive: The Resumption of Sanity

photo by Maria Helena CareyLet’s face it, it feels good to be scared. The warm rush of anger, the burst of camaraderie when you find others that feel as you do, the single-minded focus at being mad as hell, and just not taking it anymore. Sure, we’d all like to curl up in a warm blanket of fear and not have to get out of bed and put our feet on the cold floor of sanity.

But sooner or later, we all have to go to the bathroom, and tackle that cold floor. So it is with our nation. No matter how deep the abyss of fear is, we always manage to pull ourselves out sooner or later, and often with much pain. Cold comfort, perhaps, for those on the wrong side of hysteria, a sign of underlying resiliency in our national psyche.

And so, while my friend Robert’s fear-mongering tour of Washington, DC’s dreadful past showed the legacy of fear, eventually each of these stories were turned about, and we as a nation have become stronger for surmounting them. Let's take a look, shall we?

Click to read more ...

Fear: An American Tradition Since 1692

photo by Maria CareyFear has been part of American culture for over 300 years by now, so it is hardly surprising that Stephen Colbert picked 'Fear' as a guiding principle for his rally on October 30. Colbert understands what Americans want, and he is giving it to them. But what if the fear on display on the Mall that day isn't enough for you? What if you want to wallow more intensely in this all-American pastime? Where can you go to learn more about the history of fear in our nation's Capital? Fear not, we have a list for you.

Click to read more ...

A Day in DC: Taking in the Memorials

View Memorials to White House in a larger map

Some time ago, I sketched out a sample itinerary for a day in DC focused on Capitol Hill that combined a bit of the National stuff that you’ve come to see with a little of the local color that humanizes the experience and makes your visit more memorable. So in that vein, let’s lay out another day, taking in the Memorials in the morning and a little of DC the rest of the day.

We’ll kick off at the Foggy Bottom Metro Stop on the Orange and Blue lines. We got a lot of walking to do this morning, and I don’t know about you, but I can’t do it without a cup of coffee. DC has some top notch coffee shops, but as we’re not near any of them now we’ll make do with the Starbucks at the GWU Hospital. We’re heading south on 23rd (downhill) towards the Lincoln Memorial. As we head down 23rd, you may want to swing by the Columbia Plaza shopping center (just past Virginia Ave) and pick up some water or other supplies. We’ll be walking a good chunk of the morning and pickings are scarce on the Mall.

Click to read more ...

A Voice of the Century--Marian Anderson

Tour guides just love to talk about Marian Anderson, but many folks have forgotten all about her.  She was a singer and she was African American.  On April 9, 1939, Easter Sunday afternoon, she sang from the steps of The Lincoln Memorial.  It was a total of 7 songs.  An estimated crowd of 75,000 people listened in person and more on the radio.  7 songs changed history.

In 1897 Marian Anderson was born to an extremely poor family in Philadelphia, PA.  In fact, she dropped out of high school at one point to earn money for her family.  She finished later, but she never went to college.  It was finances that prevented it.  Eventually, due to her talent, she was able to study privately in Europe.  She was rejected by the Philadelphia Music Academy, because, in those days, no African Americans need apply.

She just wanted to sing--everything from German lieder to spirituals.  When Arturo Toscanni first heard her contralto voice, he said, “Yours is a voice such as one hears once in a hundred years.”  She went to Europe because she had so much difficulty getting bookings in the US.  She jump started her career in Finland and then moved on to other Scandinavian countries; she even sang in Germany in the years just before the Nazis made that impossible. For many years Ms. Anderson’s faithful accompanist was Kosti Vehanen, a Finn.  In those days, for some, that was a scandal because he was White and Marian Anderson was not.  DC Like a Local has been finding a lot of Finnish connections recently.  When Vehanen first heard her sing, he said, 

 It was as though the room had begun to vibrate, as though the sound came from under the earth.... The sound I heard swelled to majestic power, the flower opened its petals to full brilliance; and I was enthralled by one of nature's rare wonders.

So, in 1939, after establishing her career in Europe, she just wanted to sing in Washington, DC, and Constitution Hall was the largest venue; it was owned by The Daughters of the American Revolution.  The DAR refused to book her.  When alternative dates were tried it became obvious that the reason for their reluctance was her race.  The DAR was an elitist society of women devoted to promoting patriotism.  If you are of a certain age, you remember those essay contests from high school.  “Patriotism”, as defined by the DAR, did not include equality—if you were not White.  It seems impossible today, with an African American president, that people could have thought like that only 70 years ago, but, thankfully, so much has changed.  You should know the rest:  Eleanor Roosevelt got involved and the concert happened, but, Ms. Anderson got a better gig—she had the Lincoln Memorial as a backdrop.  It marked a moment like no other.  Kosti Vehanen came out of a sick bed to accompany her.  No one who saw or heard the concert ever forgot it.  One of the songs she sang was "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen".  Fitting.

Life for Marian Anderson was never the same after that.  She lived into her 90’s.  In Rudolf Bing, the director of the Metropolitan Opera, asked her if she would like to sing with the Metropolitan.  She did in 1955 and broke the color bar there.  Of course, it was past the time when she could have had a career there, but she, as always, blazed the trail for others.  By the way she also broke the color bar at Constitution Hall, by in 1943.

In her later years Marian Anderson did a lot of charity work and even served as a delegate to the United Nations.  She died in 1993, having lived to see a lot of things change in America.  Insofar as the DAR is concerned, when this tour guide drives by that building, the remark is always that “the building is most famous for the concert that never took place.”  Interestingly, the DAR lists Marian Anderson as one of the people who have sung at Constitution Hall on its website, but the website is silent about what happened in 1939.  James DePriest, the conductor, is her nephew.

For more information on Marian Anderson, you might want to read The Sound of Freedom: Marian Anderson, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Concert That Awakened America; by Raymond Arsenault.  

I'll meet you on the corner of 14th and J...

So what's missing here?

Lot's of explanations exist for why Washington, DC's street grid is missing a J Street, but my personal favorite is that the designer of Washington, DC, Peter L'Enfant, was frustrated with our first Chief Justice, John Jay, over the 1794 Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation with Great Britain and left "J" off the map out of retaliation.

I think this is the story I most wish could be true, but sadly, it's not. The dates just don't match up. L'Enfant, who by all accounts was prickly to work with, had already been canned in 1792, two years before Jay's treaty. Our favorite kill-joy Snopes does a fairly good job of deconstructing the story, so I won't recap all the details.

Then where did J go? It's clearly missing, after all. The truth is somewhat more mundane, but still interesting. It just so happens that while Washington, DC was being laid out, our alphabet was still settling out. "J", which is relatively rare in English (think Scrabble points), was the last letter to join us. In the 1790's, it was not uncommon for "J" to be considered simply a different pronunciation of "I". For example, Thomas Jefferson often used T.I. as his initials when writing, but would have pronounced "Jefferson" roughly as we do. Interestingly enough, W (or "double U") did make the cut in DC, when it was similarly left off of Colonial era alphabets. Lucky for W, we didn't lay out the city right after Independence. Or maybe William Williams just didn't piss L'Enfant off.

If you don't believe me, take a stroll down to the excellent Daughter's of the American Revolution Museum, on 17th ST (technically 1776 D ST NW). Go up to the New Hampshire room, which is a early American "children's attic". Take a look at the blocks and you will notice two letters missing. Any guesses?

But for those of you whose sense of order rebels against this, the good folks at George Washington University took some of my tuition money and renamed the dining hall for you: