It is with much joy and appreciation that I can tell you Zebra has published one of my articles. It’s titled, “Anne Newport Royall: Pioneer Publisher” and can be found in the latest issue.
http://digital.thezebra.org/?issueID=32&pageID=1
Royall edited and published two newspapers in Washington, D.C., from 1831 to 1854. Before becoming a publisher, she was an indefatigable travel writer. Her remarkable story includes time spent in Alexandria.
My thanks to Mary Wadland, the publisher of Zebra.
In 2010, the City of Alexandria installed a sculpture (some have called it a statue) of the Edmonson Sisters at 1701 Duke Street. Erik Blome is the artist. The ten-foot-tall work depicts Mary and Emily Edmondson, two young sisters who gained their freedom from slavery in 1848.
Note: Mary was the taller of the two.
We, and others, I’m sure, had hoped for an accompanying historical marker. Walking past the sculpture the other day, I was thrilled to see one now installed.
The placement of this exquisite work of art was more than just one of maximizing visibility (across from the Whole Foods). It stands next to a Federal-style brick building at the 1707 Duke Street.
The two and one-half stories building with five-course American bond brick was constructed in 1819. For some years now, it has held the offices of a property management company. In 1848, the building was a slave pen that held Mary and Emily Edmondson.
No historical marker is attached but the building is on the National Register for Historic Places. The nomination form tells us the five-bay Federal structure is uncommon in Alexandria. It stood on the eastern edge of "West End."
A nearby historical marker (1456 Duke) provides a brief history of this long, lost part of town (1717 Duke is the only remaining structure). In this gritty part of Alexandria butchers, tanners, wheelwrights, and blacksmiths worked their trades. Before the Civil War, slave owners and dealers met at Catt's Tavern every first week of January.
Joseph Bruin bought the brick dwelling in 1844 and began operations as a slave pen. Sadly, it was not the only one in Alexandria. Four blocks down at 1313 Duke stands the "Freedom House," the ironically named museum that is located in its former slave pen.
The story of this slave pen has been told much more than the one owned by Bruin. During the decades of the internal slave trading, a staggering number of enslaved souls were sold and shipped like some much cargo to the Deep South. Both these buildings are reminders of the darkest chapter in the city’s history. John Franklin and Issac Armfield made pots of gold at 1313 Duke before leaving Alexandria in 1836. Bruin stepped in and became the biggest seller of enslaved humans in the area.
Bruin partnered with Henry Hill. To read the Alexandria Gazette in the 1840s and 1850s is to see the display of ads placed by Bruin.
The one he placed in the May 7, 1849 issue read:
“We wish to purchase fifty negroes for a gentleman in the South.”
The slave trade did not go unnoticed in Alexandria. Some citizens wrote letters to the Gazette such as this one in 1827.
"Scarcely a week passes without some of these wretched creatures being driving through our streets. After having been confined, and sometimes manacled in a loathsome prison, they are turned out in public view to take their departure for the South."
As told in part by the marker, and in full by Mary Kay Ricks (“Escape on the Pearl”), Mary and Emily’s nightmare began in the spring of 1848. On an April evening, Emily slipped quietly away from her owner's home in Foggy Bottom. Mary did the same near the corner of 13th and G streets.
The two sisters were part of a group of seventy-some enslaved persons who boarded the schooner Pearl at a wharf in southwest DC. Some lived in Alexandria.
Captained by Daniel Drayton, the schooner and the escapees made it all the way to the mouth of the Potomac before they were caught and returned to Washington. A three-day riot ensued, fueled by angry slave owners and pro-slavery others.
Mary, 15, and Emily, 13, were taken to the Bruin slave pen. Bruin shipped them to New Orleans where they would have likely been forced into prostitution. "Fancy girls," they were called. To protect his investment, Bruin brought the sisters back to Alexandria after an outbreak of yellow fever.
The marker points out Paul Edmondson, the father of the sisters who lived in Montgomery County with his wife Amelia, spearheaded an effort to raise the $2,250 dollars needed to purchase their freedom. Henry Ward Beecher beseeched church members to give money to the cause. Mary and Emily were emancipated on November 4, 1848.
In their new life in New York, the sisters attended Central College in Cortland. They also took part in a convention in Cazenovia, New York to protest the pending approval of the Fugitive Slave Act, a bill being hammered out in Washington.
Abolitionists, Underground Railroaders, and sympathetic Northerners had long protested against what they consider the kidnapping and return of escaped enslaved humans. The U.S. Constitution meekly addressed the issue:
No person held to service or labour in one state, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labour may be due.
The new law’s wording was tougher. Daniel H. Weiskotten sums it up (The "Great Cazenovia Fugitive Slave Law Convention" at Cazenovia, NY, August 21 and 22, 1850):
Mandated local law officers, even in states where slavery was illegal, to find and arrest all fugitive slaves and return them south to their owners or back into slavery. It also made it illegal for anyone to harbor or aid escaped slave.
Frederick Douglass, who knew a thing or two about escaping slavery and fighting for freedom, also attended the convention. In fact, the fiery orator's gavel opened the convention and his mere presence gave the protest authority and weight.
The historical marker shows a copy of a famous daguerrotype taken at the convention. In their landmark book, "Picturing Frederick Douglass," authors John Stauffer, Zoe Trodd and Celeste Marie Bernier provide us with the details.
Ezra Greenleaf Weld took the photo on August 22, 1850. The image would have turned out better had it been taken inside, but local uproar pushed the convention out into an apple orchard.
Douglass was just 32, but had already become known for his escape from slavery in southern Maryland and speaking out against the evil institution. He had also published "Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass" and traveled to England and Ireland.
In order to justify slavery, the slave-holding states claimed African American were sub-human. Douglass proved them wrong. He quoted from classic literature and made eloquent points in his writings and speeches.
Douglass and the white abolitionists in the North wanted people there to hear the horrible stories of chattel slavery. The presence and story of Mary and Emily spoke volumes, too.
Wrapped in plaid shawls, the two sisters stand out in the photo. The man standing behind Douglass is the abolitionist Gerrit Smith. Mary is to his left, Emily to his right.
The bill passed as part of the Compromise of 1850. President Fillmore signed the Fugitive Slave Act into law. As Andrew Delbanco points out in his new book, "The War Before the War: Fugitive Slaves and the Struggle for America’s Soul from the Revolution to the Civil War," Congress hoped the new law, a key part of the compromise, was a solution to keep the Union together. Instead, the author tells us, the Fugitive Slave Act "divided the nation and set it on a path to civil war."
Mary and Emily went on to attend a prep school at Oberlin College. Harriet Beecher Stowe, sister of Henry, paid for the tuition. Hicks tells us the famed author wrote about the Edmondson sisters in "The Key to Uncle Tom’s Cabin," her non-fiction account of slavery. When writing Uncle Tom's Cabin, Stowe recalled the Bruin slave pen.
The erection of this marker coincides with the release of Delbanco's book. Mary and Emily Edmondson are not in it, but they are certainly in this story. They knew a thing to two about the struggle for freedom and liberty, and this new marker is a good introduction to their remarkable story. Paired with the sculpture, they make for an extraordinary place of public memory. However long, the wait was worth it.
Experienced the double-take of the century the other day.
Coming back from Arlington, was waiting at the light at South Eads and South Glebe. Looked to my left and spotted a marker behind a cloak of fence wrap at the WMATA Four Mile Run bus shop.
My experience with providing feedback about problems with markers has not been a good one. But in this case, Cynthia Liccese-Torres, Program Coordinator, Arlington Historic Preservation, came shining through. I got a prompt response and a promise the marker will be added to their list of marker investigations.
Anyway, the good news is the marker is at the HMDB, and below is the wording. Fingers crossed Arlington commutes its sentence.
Near this point the Alexandria Canal crossed Four Mile Run, connecting Alexandria docks and railyards to Georgetown and western Maryland from 1843 to 1886. To the east were the turnpike and railroad. In 1896 the Washington, Alexandria and Mount Vernon Railway began to run electric trolleys beside the abandoned canal in this area, where it also built a car barn, repair shops and a power house. In 1906 the trolley line opened and operated Luna Park west of the tracks, providing a ballroom, roller coaster, water slide and other amusements. Parts of this complex survived until 1993, when the trolley barn was torn down after serving as a bus garage since the 1930s. Eads Street traces the canal and trolley line.
After finishing up with my report on Westover, I reflected on the enjoyment I have always had when visiting Arlington. Part of the appeal is the way they embrace their neighborhoods. I count 25 neighborhoods in Arlington on the National Register for Historic Places. That is more than Alexandria and Fairfax County combined.
Going through the list, Cherrydale piqued my curiosity. I looked at its neighborhood association website and found it very inviting. They even include a walking map. Not sure I have even seen that for a neighborhood.
We took the walk and enjoyed it. Here are the highlights.
Although it does not include the pre-civil war history, which includes colonial surveyor Daniel Jennings owning the land, Cherrydale does a wonderful job of telling its history through a large historical marker and accompanying murals.
Settlement began in this area after the Civil War. G.M. Hopkins map (1878) shows a small crossroads village, the place where Cherrydale would begin to form. In 1893, a post office at Lee Highway and Pollard Street was named Cherrydale, named for the large cherry orchard behind the present firehouse.
Like Westover and other communities in Arlington, Cherrydale owes a lot to the railroad line. This one was the Great Falls and Old Dominion Railway Line. The train station (Dominion Heights) was located at the northeast corner of Lee Highway and Old Dominion Drive.
Established in 1898, the fire station is the oldest in Arlington County. The station arose in 1921. According to a marker, the library is the oldest existing library building in Arlington County (1961).
Cherrydale is also a place to learn about Joan Trumpauer Mulholland. Born in Washington in 1941, educated at Duke and raised in Arlington, she has amassed an extraordinary career as a civil rights activist. The Mulholland Foundation tells us she participated in over 50 sit-in and demonstrations by the time she was 23 years old. As a Freedom Rider, she crossed paths with MLK, Medgar Evers and John Lewis and was tracked down by the KKK. Mulholland story has been told in documentaries and books.
This summer, the Cherrydale Citizens Association erected a plaque titled — Cherrydale Drug Fair Sit-In. The protest took place on June 9, 1960 at the lunch counter in Cherrywood at 3815 Lee Highway. Trumpauer and five others sat in to protest racial discrimination.
As impressive as its history is, where Cherrydale really shines is the neighborhood itself. The walk has a dozen stops. The highlights for me were the murals, and the house at 2101 N. Stafford. According to the info on line, it was build in 2004. Kudos to the builder who drew on older architecture.
The only disappointment for Cherrydale is the lack of a mom and pop cafe. Local intel pointed me to Northside Social in Clarendon. As we noted yesterday, quite the spiffy historic building with a killer location and some terrific tasting coffee.
It’s not in Cherrydale, but it is in Arlington. How do they do it?
In all the excitement and questions about exactly where are the borders of National Landing, Aurora Highlands, the neighborhood rubbing shoulders with both Crystal City and Pentagon City, has been lost in the shuffle. It’s our guess residents like that just fine, as the neighborhood of single family homes is not part of the Amazon plans.
Nevertheless this is a charming place, with some homes built in the first part of the twentieth century. It's also on the National Register for Historic Places.
Let's take a brief look.
Like Del Ray and some other communities, Aurora Highlands was born out of transportation improvements that occurred in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Enough can’t be said about the Washington, Alexandria, and Mount Vernon Electric Railway. From the 1890s to the 1920s, this mass transit system moved hundreds of thousands of people between the Nation's Capital and Washington’s shrine at Mount Vernon and points in between.
The line went from downtown Washington, crossed over the Long Bridge, and took a course along modern day Eads Street. Stops included Aurora Hills (S.Eads), Virginia Highlands (22nd and S. Eads) and Addison (18th and S.Eads).
These stops skirted the east side of the Aurora Highlands, whose first blocks were between Kent and Fern and 18th and 23rd. The Washington Post called this the “garden suburb of Virginia Highlands” and praised it in 1910:
“The average wage earner who lives in a cramped city home can now obey the call of nature.”
There were other similar places to live outside the city of Washington, but like today, residents of Aurora Highlands could make it to work in a shorter period of time.
The neighborhood got going strong in the roaring twenties. The Nelly Custis Public School opened followed by a library and fire house.
Some of the homes were poured from concrete. Milton Dana Morrill invented the steel mold and called his development “Concrete City.” After designing government buildings, Morrill turned to residential. He favored cement due to its permanent, sanitary and fireproof qualities. Stucco was added to the exterior.
As pointed out by the National Register Historic Places, Aurora Highlands is an amalgamation of the original three subdivisions — Addison Heights, Aurora Hills and Virginia Hills. By the 1940s, the neighborhood was fully built.
Harriet Edleson (The Washington Post, Where We Live), visited the neighborhood in 2015. She pointed out the area "has lots of features that residents enjoy, the seasonal ice-skating rink at Pentagon Row, the library and green space."
Perhaps some residents fear what's coming with the arrival of Amazon. But the lay of the land insulates the neighborhood and it's the type of community that would fight fiercely against changes in zoning.
Here's to its continued harmony.
The long and crazy wait is over. The Amazon gods have anointed Crystal City and its neighbors, Pentagon City and a patch of Alexandria land in the northern part of Potomac Yard (ok, now I understand the need for the encompassing name), and Queens, as the places for their second headquarters.
Much has been written here locally, including a couple of delves into recent history.
We thought we’d do a brief, “what was there before” look. Crystal City is only a half century old, but the land it stands on, as well as adjacent parts, have some stories to tell.
When passengers land at National Airport, they do so on land once occupied by the Abingdon Plantation. Sometime in the 1740s, and likely before Alexandria was founded in 1749, Gerrard Alexander built the plantation home, a modest one and a half story dwelling girded with oak beams and rafters. The dwelling overlooked the Potomac River and looked out to Maryland on the opposite shore. The new Federal capital of Washington was a revolution and a move from the North away.
As one of the first towns of importance in this part of the English colony, Alexandria, hugging the Potomac about four miles south of Abingdon, would be settled primarily by Englishmen and Scotsmen. The Alexanders hailed from Scotland. In 1669, when some native Americans still fished and hunted along this part of the Potomac, Gerrald’s grandfather, acquired a large tract of woodland. The “Howson Tract” included present day Old Town Alexandria, Potomac Yard, Crystal City and on up towards Rosslyn.
Alexandria was founded on a portion of Alexander land. A state highway marker in Old Town says Alexandria was named for the family of John Alexander. It seems possible the honor might have included the family itself.
Moneymen in England had hoped for great returns on their investment in the new colony. When nothing precious was found, the immigrants and their descendants turned to planting tobacco. The “obnoxious weed” came with a terrible price. Enslaved humans toiled in the fields.
Alexandria took off as a seaport. Tall ships sailed up the Potomac to the entrepot, discharging the goods from London and loading up hogsheads of the cured leafs. Nearby Georgetown marked the fall line, the furthest the ships could sail.
In 1778, Robert Alexander, Gerrard Alexander’s son, sold the plantation and house to John Parke Custis. “Jacky” was the son of Martha Washington and the adopted son of George Washington. George and Martha raised Jacky and his sister Patsy at Mount Vernon.
In 1779, Eleanor, wife of Custis, gave birth to their third child, Eleanor (“Nelly”) at Abingdon. Years later, a sign posted on land that would become Crystal City proudly proclaimed Abingdon as the “Birthplace of Nelly” (And yes, Washington slept there).
In colonial days, the Potomac River was a major barrier to getting around. George Washington and others crossed on ferries. Much rejoicing came in 1809 with the opening of Long Bridge, used for foot, horse and stagecoach. Anyone heading to Alexandria from Washington, and vice versa, passed through the nameless land of what became Crystal City. When Union troops took control of Alexandria in 1861, they marched through here.
This land has a rich transportation history that includes native American trails, turnpikes, railroads, and the Alexandria Canal. In the first part of the nineteenth century, turnpikes were the first major improvement in getting around. Little River Turnpike and Leesburg Pike are reminders of the first toll roads that brought in the agricultural products to Alexandria.
The Washington and Alexandria Turnpike was also part of the turnpike era. A historical marker in Potomac Yard tells us it was chartered in 1808 and was the first direct road between Alexandria and Long Bridge. Many a horse and carriage went along here after paying a toll of 25 cents.
In the middle of the century, the turnpike era gave way to two new forms of transportation. The Alexandria Canal had a hey day transporting coal and other products from 1840s to 1880s. Not able to compete with the iron horses, the canal fell silent.
Three railroads developed in Alexandria during the mid-nineteenth century. Once again, the process of getting the products and people to Alexandria was improved.
And once again, movement between Alexandria and Washington was improved with the building of the Alexandria and Washington Railroad in 1854. Like the turnpike and the canal, the tracks took a north to south course through what became Crystal City. After the Civil War, rail service connected Richmond with Alexandria and Washington. The Waterloo station was located where 15th street crosses over Route One.
Transportation improvements took another step in Northern Virginia and Washington with the building of the Washington, Alexandria, and Mount Vernon Electric Railway. From the 1890s to the 1920s, this mass transit system moved hundreds of thousands of people and some light freight such as milk cans between the Nations Capital and Washington’s shrine at Mount Vernon.
The line went from downtown Washington, crossed over the Long Bridge, and took a course along modern day Eads Street. Stops included Aurora Hills (S.Eads), Virginia Highlands (22nd and S. Eads) and Addison (18th and S.Eads).
These stops helped create the Aurora Highlands of today, whose first blocks were between Kent and Fern and 18th and 23rd. The Washington Post called this the garden suburb of Virginia Highlands and praised it in 1910:
“The average wage earner who lives in a cramped city home can now obey the call of nature.”
The Nelly Custis Public School opened in 1924 followed by a library and fire house. Homes were poured from concrete and semi-bungalow. Milton Dana Morrill invented the steel mold and called his development “Concrete City.” After designing goverment buildings, Morrill turned to residential. He favored cement due to its permanent, sanitary and fireproof qualities. Stucco was added to the exterior.
As pointed out by the National Register Historic Places, Aurora Highlands is an amalgamation of the original three subdivisions — Addison Heights, Aurora Hills and Virginia Hills.
Note: Aurora Highland is not in the boundary of "National Landing," but rubs shoulders with both Crystal City and Pentagon City.
When the WAMV tracks crossed over Four Mile Run, the tracks did not run along the same north to south path to Alexandria as Route One today. It veered to the southwest and then entered Alexandria via King Street. Along the way were created a handful of communities we know today as Del Ray.
Mass production drove the next change in transportation. When Americans fell in love with automobiles in the 1920s, the mass transit systems faded away. In the 1930s, the Washington-Richmond Highway ran through what became Crystal City. It was later widened and became known as U.S. Route One. In ever increasing numbers, cars and buses used this road.
(Note: For many years, U.S. Route One through this portion of Arlington and southward along what is now Potomac Yard, was named Jefferson Davis Highway. This summer, Alexandria officials dropped the name and renamed it Richmond Highway (effective Jan 1).
When Route One goes through Old Town, it becomes Henry Street and Patrick Street. Once over the Beltway, and on to Fairfax County, Route One picks back up the name Richmond Highway.
According to Patricia Sullivan, Arlington County does not have the legal authority to change the name, but would likely approve a change if authorized by the General Assembly in Richmond).
Abingdon burned down in 1930, a sad loss for preservationists. Visitors seeking to learn about the Custis family could still do so at the Lee-Custis mansion, which today stands three Blue Line stops away from Crystal City. Jacky Custis’s son, George Washington Parke Custis, built the iconic Greek Revival mansion home in the first part of the nineteenth century (later renamed the Arlington House-Robert E. Lee Memorial).
The loss of Abingdon helped paved the way for a new era in the area that would become Crystal City. Brick yard and railroad owners sold their land. One of them was the Adamantine Brick Company, located just to the north of Route One and 15th.
This unattractive part of Arlington got a form of landscaping improvement with the building of the George Washington Parkway, a memorial highway which opened with much fanfare in 1932. Just steps from where Nelly Custis was born, National Airport sent off its first planes in 1941. The Pentagon opened two years later. In 1952, the Shirley Highway, the predecessor to I-395, opened as Virginia’s first limited access freeway and included a new 14th Street Bridge.
All of these marked the start of another new era in and around the nation’s capital. Beginning in the 1940s, Washington experienced a post-war boom that gave birth to an explosion in suburban home building in Arlington, Alexandria, Fairfax County and all around the District. Emblematic of the growth, the population of Fairfax County went from 98,000 in 1940 to 455,000 in 1960.
A large percentage of the homes built in Northern Virginia during this wave were single-family suburban. Some developers turned their attention to what we call density development.
One such real estate company was owned by Charles E. Smith. John B. Hillman (The Washington Post, October 30, 1965), told his story and introduced the region to Crystal City as a “new residential-business city being created near the Pentagon.”
The new development of high-rise apartments and office buildings was hailed as “the largest new apartment, shopping and office center in the Nation’s Capital.”
Greater Greater Washington sums up this development in Crystal City.
Much of this growth was guided by modernist city planning principles of the time, favoring superblocks that limit road connections, separating transportation modes with elevated highways and underground pedestrian tunnels, creating internal retail space instead of along sidewalks, and employing an overall brutalist aesthetic.
Smith, began with building a tall, three-wing “Crystal House” that featured “ornate lobbies with magnificent chandeliers.” Scott Sterling, a spokesperson for the company, later told Linda Wheeler of The Washington Post about the name origin:
Smith wanted to give the place a new image — so he put an elaborate crystal chandelier in the lobby of the first building and named it Crystal House. Every building thereafter took the Crystal Name.
The units (18th and Eads) sold like hotcakes. The name crystal caught on, but we’re not sure how Frank Lloyd Wright felt about it. In 1940, the famed architect had proposed a “Crystal Heights” (aka Crystal City) in the Temple Heights section of Washington, D.C. The Washington Post described the plans as a “self-contained community of hotel, apartments, theater, shops, ballroom, and garages.” Tired of fighting the resistance to the tall set of buildings, Wright ultimately withdrew his plans.
The infant Crystal City stood on 50 acres between 15th and 23rd streets, which is today the heart of the neighborhood. Junkyards, cheap motels, and light industry had dotted the soulless landscape. Next to nothing was worth saving, although it’s our guess some folks lamented the demolition of the Airport Drive-In Theatre. Owned and operated by Paul J. Foley, the big screen first flickered in September 1947 with a capacity of 1,000 cars. The short but sweet run ended in 1963. Its site is the Crystal Place Apartments at 20th and Crystal Drive.
The overpass (viaduct) that takes motorists and cabbies over Route One and the railroad tracks to National was built in 1966.
The popularity of Crystal City was obvious. From their reclining chair, residents could sip a martini, look out the window and see someone else struggling with a traffic-choked commute. A unique perc was an Underground Shopping Mall, which opened in the summer of the bicentennial year of 1976. Among the 40 shops and stores were Drug Fair and Larimer’s.
Sandra Evans of the Post (January 25, 1987) described the Underground as an “11-block long network of tunnels that connected more than two dozen apartment buildings and offices, two grocery stores, restaurants, two Marriot Hotels, a health club and a movie theater.”
The population of Crystal City at that time was 4,685 with employment for 31,200. One young resident said, “My parents are coming to get my car because I never use it.”
Evans also pointed out the drawbacks for Crystal City. The concrete neighborhood fell silent after dark and on weekends.
Nevertheless, Crystal City was filling needs and continued to expand. By 1994, development ran from 15th to 31st, more or less a full buildout. It was around this time that Pentagon City was put on the map with the opening of the Fashion Center at Pentagon City. Crystal City’s neighbor continues to grow to the point that a newcomer might think both places are as one, although most would agree Pentagon City’s street layout and architecture is more pleasing than Crystal City and the bridging of Route One maintains a sense of separation.
Of course, not everyone was pleased. Robert Lee, a Chinese-American who has lived in the Aurora Highlands neighborhood since the 1969s, lamented the loss of views of the rising sun and the pastoral sense of living between the river and the leafy ridge to the west.
After the turn of the century, Crystal City hit a massive roadblock. The patent office moved to Alexandria and The Base Realignment and Closure Act of 2005 took jobs elsewhere. The recession hit as well as budget cuts.
Officials in Arlington sat down and formed The Crystal City Planning Task Force and the Crystal City Business Improvement District. Recent improvements include Long Bridge Park, and a dedicated bus lane down Crystal City. Further south it connects with another dedicated, middle-of-the-road bus lane in Potomac Yard. Crystal CIty is also undergoing a “Future Cities Project” focused on even more walkable urban improvements.
As we have seen, the story of Crystal City is a story of its neighbors, including Alexandria. Through the years, this land has seen its destiny controlled by Fairfax County, the District of Columbia, back to Virginia (Alexandria County), Arlington County (1920), and finally the name Crystal City. Virginia’s history also overlaps with its neighbors in Maryland.
That would be our advice to any newcomers. As you get to know Crystal City and National Landing, give an equal effort to know the region and the DMV.
Many a bus hauled commuters to and from their jobs in Washington. Metro service arrived in 1977. Virginia Railway Express (VRE), whose service extends to Fredericksburg, is a fixture for commuters. A dedicated bus line opened in 2015. Progressive Arlington County is dedicated to building more and more bike lanes and infrastructure.
A set of granite stones in Potomac Yard tell us about some of this transportation history. A standout is Potomac Yard, a freight classification yard that operated from 1906 to 1992. Its tracks ran through what became Crystal City.
Hemmed in by the railroad tracks to the east and Aurora Highlands to the west Crystal City could only grow to the north and the south.
After the turn of the century, attention turned to its southern most portions from 33rd Street down to Four Mile Run. This parcel is just north of Alexandria and makes up the northern tip of Potomac Yard. Camden Potomac Apartments and Harris Teeter anchor this part. As we speak, hard hats are filling in the gap between 29th and 35th.
Note: The vast majority of Potomac Yard is located south of Four Mile Run in Alexandria. The small parcel north of Four Mile Run is located in Arlington, Crystal City.
Forecast: Steadier, Heavier Rain coming this weekend
Crystal City, Historic Footprints
1. Abingdon Plantation Home
2. Washington-Alexandria Turnpike/
Railroads
3. Alexandria Canal/Washington-
Alexandria-MV Electric Railway
4. Waterloo Station
5. Brick Yards
6. Airport Drive-In Theater
Note: Abingdon Ruins Have
Historical Markers Between
Parking Garages, Open to Public
Excellent morning walk and visit to Westover, a leafy neighborhood in Arlington east of Falls Church.
Even learned a new word — “acroterion,” which Webster defines (who says that anymore?) as “a pedestal placed on a pediment to support a statue or other ornamentation and an ornament similarly placed.”
This one is the latter definition and is located in front of the Westover Library. The historical marker makes note it “originally decorated the pediment over the main entrance of the Abby mausoleum, which overlooked Arlington National Cemetery.”
According to the library site, the cathedral-like Mausoleum was built in 1924 in the Romanesque style and was once “a grand final resting-place for Washington, DC’s elite.”
I had no clue about this structure. Seems a crying shame it could not be saved. Normally if something makes it as far as the 2000s, it is saved. And in this case there’s the disturbing reinterment of the remains.
Before I go on a visit, I look at the google map, including the satellite view. On the map, Westover appears to be just another leafy suburban neighborhood with a main road crossing by a scattering of businesses and buildings.
Found out, however, this part of Arlington has some nineteenth century history and a fascinating one at that.
The first name given to this place was Fostoria. It was fun to read the ads placed by the Fostoria Land and Improvement Company. They placed a huge one in "The Washington Post" in June 1891. William Abbott was the President and James M Hoge Secretary.
The ad touted the proximity to the railroad lines, which ran where I-66 does today. The station was located where Highland Park is today, probably near the Custis Bike Trail. (Photo taken from Ohio Street bridge, looking west. Station's site is to the right, about where the sign is).
The name Fosteria did not last long. An ad in 1906 for Highland Park said:
Why go in the suburbs and buy a 25 foot lot? The same money will buy an acre in beautiful highland park.
The homes were laid out on a grid of three blocks and a few others that formed triangles. Ohio, Nicholas, McKinley, 14th, 15th, and 16th, which form the core of the neighborhood, were started this way, as well as others as seen on the map.
(Seems two of the streets pay homage to President McKinley).
With the metro system, Northern Virginia today has a mass transit system and transit-oriented development. There was an early form of this beginning in the late nineteenth century. Similar gridded suburban communities near the electric railways were or would soon pop up at Aurora Highlands, Glencarlyn, Ballston and Falls Church, as well as New Alexandria and Del Ray.
Established in 1888, one of the first electric rail lines was the Washington, Arlington & Falls Church Railroad. By 1904, the tracks ran from Rossyln with service to Highland Park, Falls Church and ending in the City of Fairfax.
In 1894, the Washington, Alexandria and Mount Vernon Electric Railway Line provided commuter service to Washington and points southward through Alexandria and down to George Washington's shrine. In 1910, the WAFC merged with the WAMV to form the Washington-Virginia Railway Company.
Highland Park did not take off as much as some others. By 1939, there were only 38 homes. The rest were built during the post war boom.
In 1993, Linda Wheeler of The Washington Post wrote about a Victorian House with gingerbread trim that Anna Sullivan bought in 1973. Sullivan co-wrote a book with Joyce Dale on their restoration of the house, “The Old House Source Book.” Seeing this house was one of the highlights of our visit.
Westover has a nice blend of homes and mom and pop businesses along Washington Boulevard that provides a cohesive character.
A highlight of my visit was walking into the Ayers Hardware Store. Lowe’s and Home Depot are great, but this flashback to older times hits you with a jolt of nostalgia.
A historical marker outside tells us John Ayers used his establishment “as a platform for service in his community.”
The store's 4.5 on Yelp is testimony to their service and wide selection.
A few doors down, the Italian Store serves up good coffee and pastries before opening at 10 am for the home-made sandwiches and pizza. I quipped to the lady that any food with lots of vowels in its name is probably gonna be real good. She smiled and agreed.
Another anchor is the Westover Library. Before this one, I had never seen a library woven into the fabric of the commercial part of a neighborhood. It has a modern look and facilities, but its brick shell is the former Walter Reed Elementary School (built in 1938).
Two delightful bonuses are inside the library. Leaded stain glass windows, created in the 1930s, restored in 2004 and installed in 2010, came from the Abbey Mausoleum before it was demolished. Louis Comfort Tiffany as the artist.
The second bonus is courtesy of Tom Dickinson. Our paths crossed over a mutual appreciation of lost homes. Tom took his passion and created an exhibit entitled "Arlington: Then and Now.” The Westover Library will host it until the first of January 2019.
Dickinson told me:
I've been taking photos of residential and commercial properties that were subsequently demolished ("Then"), and then photographing the buildings that replaced them (“Now"). Last year, I received an Arlington Arts Grant to pursue this project, and now the time has come to finish it and put it on public display. To frame the photos, I am using the actual windows that I salvaged from many of these buildings, now gone.
All in all, a terrific visit -- words I can't spell, and a wonderfully-managed neighborhood with a history deeper than most realize.
Note: Both Westover and Highland Park/Overland Knolls are on the National Register for Historic Places. I walked in both Westover and Highland Park. I asked about a half dozen residents what they called the neighborhood. All said "Westover." When I asked where does Highland Park fit in, they did not know. The NRHP form does show the different borders. The separating line for the two is McKinley Street. Perhaps a historical marker could be erected to sort this out.
I’ve always enjoyed the walks sponsored by the Coalition for Smarter Growth in the Washington region. More than any one else, they carry the torch of progressive planning and keep the public informed about development and its pro and cons. An unheralded aspect of their work is protection of streams and other environmental concerns.
And so it was again on a steamy late summer afternoon in Alexandria, when about 50 folks gathered at the edge of Founders Park to hear the latest on the unfolding of the Waterfront Plan.
Al Cox, City Architect Historian, did an excellent job with providing some historical context.
I got to know Cox earlier this year when we were trying to figure out the build date for River Farm. Ever gracious with his time, he has rescued me more than once from windless waters.
Founders Park, the football-field shaped, riverside park that stretches for two blocks south of the Robinson Terminal North (the foot of Oronoco Street), is a popular spot in Old Town. The park does have its peak periods of activity, but it can also be pleasantly quiet.
Walking along the shore, the group proceeded through the park, and stopped at its southern edge near the foot of Queen Street. As we were standing there, someone asked Cox, What was here before?
Cox looked straight at me and said, “Do you know?”
It's amazing just how quickly the mind can recover from a surprise question like that, find and process the needed information, and gauge what should be the appropriate length of the reply.
Stunned, I spit out — “a lot of ugly things.”
My heart started beating again when I heard a chorus of chuckles. On the other hand, part of me felt bad for not being more specific, and giving what might be perceived as a glib answer.
Driving home after the walk, I was reminded once again that ignorance is one of the best motivators. I knew enough about this part of the waterfront to say what I did, but feeling the need to know more, I set out on the search.
So here’s a brief rundown on what came before Founders Park (founded in 1978). Our main sources are the Historic Waterfront Plan, the Alexandria Gazette, The Washington Post, Sanborn Fire Insurance maps and historic aerials. A big thank you to Donald Shomette for his terrific coverage of the waterfront, and others as noted.
Photos:
Please note the aerial photo you see is published with permission from Historic Aerials, meaning I purchased it. Same for the historic photos, used with permission from the Alexandria Library, Special Collections. I took the one of the park.
18th Century
Before it was recently taken down, a brown-colored wooden sign at the foot of Oronoco marked the site of West’s Point. The Robinson Terminal North Warehouse, which will be demolished for redevelopment, stands steps away.
With no historical marking there, the story of West's Point remains a hidden history. This silence is a great paradox. In the decade before Alexandria was founded in 1749, Hugh West owned the land. In 1731, West had a tobacco house built near the tip of land. A map sketched out by George Washington shows it as the only built thing between Great Hunting Creek and Four Mile Run.
Jim Bish, an expert on the history of the West family, summarizes West’s Point the best by saying —
In reality the town had already existed since the mid-1730s and people were coming to the Hunting Creek warehouses on a good road to get their tobacco inspected and warehoused and while there they could also get back and forth to Maryland. The chartering of this already commercial activity as now a town was an important event and Hugh West took the leading role, assisted by members of his family.
Note: West’s warehouses were about a mile north of Great Hunting Creek, which, before the founding of Alexandria, was the closest known place identifier.
After its founding in 1749, Alexandria took off as a growing seaport. Where other entrepots such as Dumfries and Colchester failed to live up to their expectations due to silting, Alexandria benefitted by its riverside location. Some silting was a problem, and shoaling would eventually help put an end to its shipping days. But by not being located on an inlet, Alexandria avoided the fate of the other two.
A visitor to Alexandria in its early days would have seen plenty of action along the waterfront. Four blocks south of West's Point shipping activity took place at the wharf extending from John Carlyle’s Georgian mansion. Further south stood the public wharf at what would become the foot of Duke. Another block down one could heard the hammering of pegs at John Hunter's shipyard.
Perhaps the activity at West’s Point was overshadowed this way. Nevertheless, its wharfs saw activity and Shomette tells us there might have been shipbuilding there, too.
Histories of Alexandria that cover the horrible slave trade focus on the internal selling that took place from the 1830s to 1861 at the Franklin and Armfeld’s pen on Duke Street. A wood cut from 1845 shows what appears to be enslaved humans along the wharfs at the foot of Duke.
Sadly, these stories of enslavement began in Alexandria even sooner. The Maryland Gazette of April 3, 1760 and September 9, 1762 advertised “a parcel of very healthy Gambia slaves,” to be sold at Alexandria. The Alexandria Waterfront Plan indicates these sales took place at the future site of Founders Park. Perhaps they chose this spot for its more inconspicuous nature.
Another indication of the growth of the seaport were the four wharfs built by 1775. One of them extended from the foot of Princess Street, which ends at the edge of Founders Park. At that time, the banking out process (1780s) that created the waterfront land we walk on today had not yet taken place.
A lot of activity took place along these wharfs. By the 1780s, wheat and grain were overtaking tobacco as the main crops shipped out on the tall ships. On their return, the ships brought in rum, sugar, and household goods crafted by the merchants in London.
Alexandria’s crescent shaped bay was beautiful, but it was also a pain in the neck for the stevedores. In the 1780s and 1790s, the city filled in the bay with a process known as “banking out." Due to this re-shaping of the small cliffs east of Fairfax Street, the 200 blocks of Prince, King, Cameron, Queen, and Princess are less steep than they originally were.
This feat of engineering was the city’s first redevelopment action and made the logistics of shipping easier in the growing seaport. It created the land from Founders Park down to the foot of Wolfe.
A historical marker at Ford’s Landing sums up this action:
By 1790, merchants had filled in the river flats for as much as 400 feet beyond the original shoreline to create “superb wharves and vast warehouses. In 1795, Alexandria was the seventh-busiest port in the United States with 1,000 vessels entering the port annually.
19th Century
Alexandria’s Golden Age as a seaport ended after the turn of the century. George Washington and many of the town’s founding fathers were gone. So, too were the initial prosperous times.
During the antebellum period, Alexandria went through ups and downs in terms of its economy. Embargoes, the War of 1812, fires and floods were no friends to the businessmen and citizens of the town, whose population stagnated in the eight thousands.
Throughout much of the century, one source of steady income and stories for the newspapers was Fishtown. A seasonal community, it was located right where Founders Park lies today, between the foot of Oronoco and down to what would be the foot of Princess.
The native Americans had certainly known a lot about fishing along the Potomac. As a marker at Jones Point Park tells us:
For more than 9,000 years, people have been attracted to the rich fisheries of the Potomac River near Jones Point. Archeological evidence indicates that indigenous people set up seasonal fishing camps on the Point to take advantage of herring, shad, eel, striped bass and sturgeon runs.
Shad and sturgeon were the most prized catch for both natives and Europeans. These species are anadromous – they hatch upriver, swim out to sea, and once full-grown, ascend the river to their birthplace to spawn.
George Washington owned as many as three fisheries near Mount Vernon. Founders Online tells us the fish were sold in large barrels to local planters for their enslaved humans, and shipped abroad often to the West Indies. Washington made great profits shipping salted fish to the West Indies and elsewhere.
The story of fishing on the Potomac in the nineteenth century belongs to Fishtown. Every year from mid-March to sometime in May, this part of the seaport came alive with the arrival of the boats at the Public Fishing Wharf (on a line with Princess) and the unloading and shipping of shad and herring. African Americans, many of them women, gutted, cleaned, salted and packed the Potomac hauls.
Better than anyone else, Ted Pulliam describes Fishtown as, “a shambling collection of smelly shacks.”
Cleaning fish at a vigorous pace requires a certain kind of skill with the cutting knife. The fish cutters at Fishtown were the masters of this craft.
Of their work, a visiting writer wrote in the Gazette (April 14, 1852):
“the women were covered head to heels with scales… they performed their tasks with wonderful alacrity and skill.”
No one has covered the important history of Fishtown better than Shomette (Maritime Alexandria). Alexandrians, he tells us, who owned the majority of landings and valuable fisheries on the upper Potomac, continued to thrive during the otherwise declining years of the city’s maritime history.
It’s hard to know a year by year accounting of the hauls brought in to Fishtown, but according to Mary G. Powell:
in 1880, 3,000 shad and 200,000 herring arrived and sold for $7 and $8 per 100 and $2 and $3 respectively.
An 1832 article in the Edinburgh Encyclopedia said the “quantities of shad and herring taken may appear almost incredible. The number of shad frequently obtained at a haul is 40,000 and upwards and of herring vastly more. The shad and herring are transported all over the country and shipped to various ports in the US and West Indies.”
Shomette tells us 1871 was typical. 250,000 herring and shad were brought in. Also caught were rockfish, perch and catfish.
As one can imagine, Fishtown was not a place for a gentleman to take a lady, nor a place for a field day for the schools. Needless to day, it was fodder for the local writers. The Alexandria Gazette certainly gave Fishtown a good amount of ink every spring.
It’s also hard to know when Fishtown was first in use. The Alexandria Gazette of 1843 used the term. It wasn’t too long after that Fishtown’s seedy side emerged.
An article in the Gazette (April 25, 1851), tells us:
“occupants at the Fish Wharves, who by their outrageous conduct, have been a constant source of trouble to strangers and others.” The police said, “some young men who have long been suspected of living by a means not recognized by law.”
An article by a Washington Star reporter, reprinted in the Alexandria Gazette (April 7, 1857) gave his impressions.
The police were there every year to deal with “ungodly company, known for their propensity for execrable whiskey and taste for rowing and rioting.”
Much to the pleasure of Alexandria’s leaders and its citizens, the reporter said very few of these rowdies were from Alexandria.
The booze certainly did flow at Fishtown. In 1859, police busted six whites and four “colored” and charged them with selling liquor without a license. On occasion, rowdies were arrested for fighting and disturbing the peace.
Fishtown also produced some interesting architecture. As noted by Virginia Foundation for the Humanities (“Fishtown Business”):
Throngs of fishmongers rented wood to build shacks along the wharves, dismantling them at the end of the season in order to return the wood. Since "hired" wood could not be cut, windows were created by leaving out a plank, resulting in windows that were 15 feet long and 1 foot tall.
Not much is known about Fishtown during the Civil War. We do know with the outbreak of war in the spring of 1861, the Union turned the seaport into a supply base. Materiel such as horses, wagons, tents, guns and ammunition were unloaded, stored and issued out.
Charles Magnus's "View of Alexandria" (1863) shows wharfs extending from Princess and mid block below. Where the planked-built shanties would have been during the fish season, one sees about half-dozen smaller structures that could be his depiction of them. Beside them are more permanent buildings that look like warehouses. On Magnus’ map, one sees a boat there loaded with bales of hay, as well as railroad tracks along Union Street.
The nomination form for Parker Gray Historic District adds to our knowledge of Fishtown.
During the Civil War, when the City’s African American population began to grow again, two new neighborhoods cropped up north of Princess Street and east of Washington, known as the Berg and Cross Canal. The Berg traced its name from a group of African Americans who had moved up from Petersburg.
It’s likely that the names of the workers at Fishtown has been lost to history. We can guess, however, that some were from “Contraband” families. They poured into Alexandria in 1862 and 1863.
It’s highly likely some lived at the Berg. An 1885 Sanborn Insurance map shows “Negro Shanties” located within the block of N. Fairfax, Oronoco, N. Lee and Princess. These homes were part of the Berg neighborhood, adjacent to Fishtown, and built during the Civil War. Its possible descendants of these families live in the nearby Samuel Madden Homes, named for the first African-American pastor of the Alfred Street Baptist Church.
Fishtown had a long run, but it came to an end some time after the turn of the century. A report in The Washington Post (1892) noted the glory days of dealers from Philadelphia and Baltimore buying up batches were gone. Newspaper coverage fell off after 1910.Shad catches fell off dramatically in the first part of the century. Causes for the decline were over-fishing, pollution and loss of spawning habitat, primarily due to dams.
Shomette tells the end of the fishing industry was Alexandria’s last formidable waterfront mainstay.
20th Century
With a parade down King Street, and other events, Alexandria celebrated its 150th birthday in high-style 1899. Perhaps the parade helped heal some of the wounds from the 1897 fire which had destroyed the landmark Pioneer Mill, the Old Dominion Boat Club, a fertilizing mill, and other structures along the waterfront and the Strand between Prince and Duke.
After the turn of the century, Alexandria found prosperity in manufacturing. As noted by the Alexandria Archaeology website, “Alexandria experienced astonishing growth as a manufacturing center from 1899 to 1915, leading every city in Virginia except Lynchburg in the increased production of goods.”
During this time, a lot of Southerners chugged the Tivoli (“I love it” backwards) beer brewed at Robert Portner’s large facility on the north side (the blocks surrounding modern day Trader Joe’s). For teetotallers, the north side also held a large plant for making milk bottles (Belle Pre Bottle Company and then the Old Dominion Glass Company). Paff’s Shoe Company turned out 1,200 pairs each week.
William A. Smoot (1878-1941) made a name for himself in this part of the waterfront. The Smoot family name was legendary in Alexandria. As Harold Hurst points out, the antebellum business activities of the Smoot brothers laid the foundation for what was to become the most powerful commercial and industrial dynasty in the city’s history.
Sales must have been brisk for Smoot’s coal and lumber yard. He lived at Colross and then the Lloyd House, two of city’s most fashionable addresses. Smoot also served as mayor and one of the first council members under the new form in 1921.
In addition to the big bruisers, there were sundry outfits on or near the future site of Founders Park, such as the Globe Mill (later known as the Ladd’s Mill), Old Dominion Stone Company, which made soapstone, Prices’s Salt Fish Warehouse, Samuel Reeds Fish and Salt Warehouse, and the Lawrence Mill Company.
By far, the biggest presence at the future site of Founders Park was the Alexandria Fertilizer and Chemical Company. Headed up by John P. Robinson, its charter was granted in 1889. The company became one of the South’s largest such factories.
Up until the 1960s, their operation consisting of two large structures. The production plant, which contained a Sulphuric Acid Chamber, stood where the Robinson Terminal North is located today. A six-inch pipe ran to the storage facility, which fronted the west side of Union between Oronoco and Princess. Outside storage there held 12,000 tons.
A tramway with a traveling crane ran from the corner of Prince and Union to the wharf. Some sources call this a “Trestle Wharf.” The operation was one of the largest in the south. The company’s wharf was at the foot of Princess. Incoming ships brought in phosphate pebble stones and sulfur.
In 1946, the City Council ordered the American Agricultural Chemical Company to stop discharge of gas and acid fumes from its fertilizer plant. This signaled the start of civic complaints concerning pollution and were a harbinger of Old Town home owners fed up with the deleterious nature of this part of the city.
A photograph of the waterfront taken in 1930 shows a waterfront scene that would have shocked previous generations. You had to look hard to find any boats or shipping activity. As Shomette tells us, "Alexandria’s long and frequently maritime history was already becoming a forgotten relic of the past."
Yet a kid could still feel the thrill of the arrival of a big ship. In his 1983 memoir, “Reminiscences,” Clarence J. Robinson gives us a first hand account of how his company, Robinson Terminal, got started with a conversation along the waterfront. A handshake later came a contract to unload and store the large rolls of newspapers for the Washington Post.
Robinson even expanded in the 1960s. This was when Robinson Terminal North was built, the corrugated steel counterpart to his warehouse at the foot of Duke and Wolfe. He continued to bring in product as did the American Agricultural Chemical plant, but the big ship fans had long waits in between.
A constant in Alexandria along N. Union Street was the railroad. For the longest time, the tracks ran all the way down to Wilkes Street, where it turned westward and ran through the tunnel there. Oral histories tells us how the railcars created a barrier with the waterfront and the rest of the neighborhood.
By the 1940s, those tracks were pulled up, but still went as far south as the foot of Princess Street. Two spurs ran through modern day Founders Park, as part of the chemical plant operations.
Overlooking the Potomac River in Washington below Georgetown lies a high-rise set of residential units overlooking the Potomac River. Infamy walked in there on the night of June 17, 1972. Six men were arrested for breaking into the headquarters of the Democratic Party. The Watergate scandal grew out of the botched break-in.
A few months before the break-in, a mini-scandal erupted in Alexandria involving a proposal by the Watergate Improvements, Inc.
As summarized by Ted Pulliam, in December 1971, the Watergate Improvements Inc., proposed to build a set of four 20-story towers where Founders Park stands today. Girded by the Alexandria Board of Trade, the plans were approved by the City Council. Needless to say, a number of citizens opposed it.
In an oral history, Robert L. Montague III recalled the effort against the proposal he helped lead. They filed suit against the development in June 1972.
Montague:
The property turned out not to belong to the developer. It was owned by the federal government, and we brought to the attention of City Council the fact that they didn’t own the land as well as the fact that they were trying to do something very inappropriate there.
The City eventually swapped the site of the Ficklen School to the developer to build townhouses and we acquired Founders waterfront park.
Montague also gives a lot of credit to the Alexandria Waterfront Park system and the Northern Virginia Conservation Council. According to the Library of Virginia they formed in 1965 and filed several lawsuits to preserve public open space including the Alexandria waterfront in the 1970s. They were responsible for provoking the federal government into bringing quiet title actions for all of the parcels of land on the Alexandria waterfront
Ellen Pickering played a key role during this time. In a business and governmental world ran mostly by men, she was an Alexandria City councilwoman and a champion for preservation. Pickering also steered or helped lead many committees and commissions, and had a big hand in building the Mount Vernon Trial between Alexandria and Washington.
In Alexandria’s first two hundred years, economic and business interests usually prevailed more anything else. In the 1940s, some of Alexandria’s citizens became interested in preservation. Among them were Gay Montague Moore and Polly Hulfish. They sailed on the wings of earlier activities such as Sarah Carlyle Herbert Hooft. Citizen involvement began to shape the future of the city.
In the late 1960s the Alexandria Fertilizer and Chemical Plant ended its fifty plus years run. Seaport activity was coming to an end but the Robinson Terminal was doing a brisk business between the foot of Duke and Wolfe.
In his memoir, Clarence J. Robinson picks up the story. He purchased the lot east of S. Union and between the foot of Oronoco and Pendleton. The chemical plant’s facility there was torn down in 1963, and Robinson Terminal North was erected in 1964. This corrugated steel warehouse was best known for holding the paper rolls for the Post, but Robinson tells us a variety of products were unloaded there, including steel, cars, and bottled beer.
Going back to the early years of Alexandria, the most popular place to live with a view of the waterfront was south of King. Anything beyond Queen was less desirable for those who could afford a nicer home. This rule of thumb lasted until the 1970s. To the west of where Fishtown had stood, townhouses were built, a remarkable change.
Emboldened by the defeat of the plans for eighteen stories condominium complex there, Alexandria city planners, nudged along by the activists, proposed a new plan for the waterfront. This time the focus was on creating parks and encouraging construction of townhouses and apartments that would be set back from the waterfront.
A new day was dawning. During the 1960s, Urban Renewal plans had created political firestorms in City Hall. Although some citizens lamented the loss of historic buildings on the 300 to 500 block of King and some nearby, others were saved.
Back along the waterfront, Alexandria celebrated its 225th birthday in July 1974. The city hosted ceremonies for the dedication of Founders Park. In her memoir, “On Target, Stories of the Torpedo Factory Center’s First 25 Years,” Marian Van Landingham tells us she suggested the park’s name because “the city started with tobacco warehouses at the water’s edge where Oronoco ended."
At the foot of Oronoco, where Hugh West had started it all, Founders Park was dedicated. That evening, the Torpedo Factory was christened. In between, the Alexandria Bicentennial Bagpipe Band marched from the foot of Oronoco to the Torpedo Factory. Van Landingham described the walk along a vast gravel and stubble field.
In 1979, the famed undersea explorer Jacques Cousteau thrilled the throng gathered at Founders Park. The occasion was National Oceans Week. Cousteau was quoted as saying, "We must carefully weight the consequences of our actions. We cannot fish only for today. We must think about tomorrow.”
Several months later, Founders Park and the area around it was back in the news. The owners of about 150 townhouses on the west side of N. Union voiced their concerns about not being able to gain clear title to their property. The Justice Department had filed suit against the city and six landowners along the waterfront.
The dispute centered over who owned the waterfront parcels that were part of the landfill. The saga had begun in the seventeenth century when King James II's charter for Virginia and King Charles I charter for Maryland both included the Potomac River. The colony of Maryland, led by Cecilius Calvert, Lord Baltimore, pointed out their grant included the Potomac River to the ‘further bank of the said river.”
In 1791, Maryland gave the title to the newly formed District of Columbia, the new seat of the Federal Government. The diamond shaped capital included Alexandria and part of northern Virginia. The high water mark along Alexandria’s shore was part of the title, and remained so even after Alexandria retroceded to the District of Columbia. The Feds put the boundary beyond Lee Street, which was the original shoreline and high water mark.
Citing the 1791 high water mark, the Federal Government had claimed the land. The original suit claiming federal title was filed by the Interior Department in 1973. The 1979 filing claimed the 1791 line went further inland. The future of the waterfront hung in the balance.
In 1981, the Alexandria City Council approved an agreement with the Federal Government over ownership of the waterfront. Alexandria gained title to 15 acres of waterfront land, leaving it as park space. The Feds agreed to drop its 135 year claim of ownership and gave the city control over waterfront development, with the stipulation that it must abide by the land-use plan drawn up in consultation with the National Park Service.
With the dispute finally laid to rest, Alexandria planners went to work. In the 1980s and 1990s, the city opened Tide Lock Park, Rivergate Park, Waterfront Park, and Shipyard Park.
Founders Park today remains a popular gathering place for both local and visitor. Incorporated in 1979, just one year after the park’s founding, the Founders Park Community Association holds monthly clean-ups and get togethers. On a typical day, black steel benches provide a place for reading a book, relaxing or watching boats glide past on the river. Autumn moods are currently on display.
In a few months, King Street Park will open at the foot of Alexandria's Main Street, leaving the Robinson Terminal North site, the place where it all started, as the final part of the waterfront to be redeveloped.
Al, thank you for the question.
So sad to learn of the passing of Willie McCovey.
Batting cleanup behind Mays, and like his slugging teammate, hailing from Alabama, McCovey was feared by the men on the mound. But off the field, McCovey was a Gentle Giant.
McCovey was one of my favorite players, along with Mays and Marichal. I will never forget his Hall of Fame acceptance speech when he said Sundays were made for baseball and family.
Too many highlights to list for this distinguished career, but we can know McCovey felt pride in 1965 when he was on the cover of The Sporting News (October 2).
Photographer Niels Lauritzen captured McCovey in two poses. The large foreground shot shows the big-fisted slugger kneeling in his San Francisco away uniform with his bat resting on his left shoulder. The smaller background photo is "Stretch" at the completion of a swing, with one hand on the end of the bat and his uniform number showing on his back.
Bob Stevens wrote the cover story, pointing out the trials and tribulations the McCovey faced, including knee and foot injuries. Stevens also noted 1965 was McCovey’s most consistent season and that he did not complain about his injuries.
McCovey made two more TSN cover story appearances, in 1968 and 1969. There was something special about him when he flashed his trademark smile.
As perennial bridesmaids, the Giants made it to the World Series just once in the Mays and McCovey years. In October 1962, McCovey’s smash line drive in the bottom of the ninth, caught by Yankees second baseman Bobby Richardson, came within inches of bringing glory to a city that had fallen in love with the Giants in 1958.
McCovey found some comfort in later years when the Orange and Black won the World Series in 2010, 2012 and 2014.
When the Giants moved from windswept Candlestick Park to a near downtown location in 2000, McCovey became a big part of the ballpark experience. In 2002, principal owner Peter Magowan and the team reached out to the fans to honor McCovey at McCovey point. Roberta and I bought a personalized tile that looks out to his statue.
Some years ago, a thoughtful friend gave me a special present - a baseball signed by McCovey.
Like the good memories of number 44, I will always cherish it.
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