Arnold on Spreading the Joy

"I grew up on a farm in Foster, Rhode Island, or 'Fostah' as we call it. I dropped out of high school at 18 to work and was drafted to be in the war that same year. I was trained as Military Police (MP) up in Augusta, Maine. They had me guarding German soldiers in Fort Devens, Massachusetts. These were guys from the Africa core who were older and pretty calm because they weren't in the desert and no one was shooting at them anymore. After that, they sent me to Fort Edwards where I was guarding the young, tough Germans who were off of Normandy Beach. These were some serious guys. They would come over to me and fold a bottle cap in half with their hands just to show off. You try that sometime. It ain't easy. 

"Next, they sent me to Germany. I was an MP in Germany, which was a really dangerous job because about 75% of us got knocked off by sniper fire. A few weeks into my service, the war ended. When I heard, it didn't register. I couldn't believe it. One of the stories that really sticks with me from Germany was when we were patrolling an area and came across a house. We hadn't had a shower, hot meal, or decent shelter in weeks, so we took over the place and sent the lady living there to sleep in the barn. This woman had the same stature as my mother and took to me for some reason. She asked if she could wash my clothes and make me something to eat, so I let her do it. As we were leaving the house the next day, she took me by the hand over to a photo of her son who was about my age and wearing a Nazi uniform. She said in German, 'The war is over, but my son is not coming home.' We hugged and cried. In 1987, I went back to Germany with my wife to find that woman and say, 'thank you.' Turns out, a year before, she was killed in a traffic accident. I will never be able to tell her thank you. That always urinates me off. 

"When I finally got out of the service, I came back to Rhode Island. I got a job digging ditches, but  figured there was something better for me. I decided to finish high school and go to college at Pacific University in Portland, Oregon to study journalism. I got a job with the Evening Star in Washington as a news photographer in 1951. I covered everything in this town during my 13 years there. I got pictures of presidents, high society, criminals, you name it. I was a bachelor at the time and took all of the evening and weekend jobs. Went to parties that never quit with plenty of liquor and I danced with all of the high society people. 

"After my service here, I decided to go to seminary and be an Episcopal priest. That took me away from Washington to southern Maryland for 22 years. My community was all pig farmers. But after growing up on a farm and taking pictures in Washington, I could talk to anyone. When I retired, I came back to D.C. because I love it here. I am an avid swing dancer and love that there is dancing every night of the week here. I used to dance for three hours straight when I was younger. I would finish dancing with some gal and before I got to the side, there would be a different gal tapping me on the shoulder for another dance. Now that I am 84, I can't dance like I used to, but still think that it is important to spread the joy with my dancing when I can."

Eugene 'Thunder' Hughes on the Midtown Youth Academy

Eugene, right, is pictured with Jeffrey, one of the Midtown Youth Academy's boxing coaches and a graduate of Dr. Hughes' program. 

'I was born over in a neighborhood that they tore down to build the Rayburn House Office Building. I was one of 13 children. We had an outhouse, oil lamps, an ice box, and had to chop wood for the stove. It was a different time then. When I was just a kid, maybe nine years old, I started boxing. I turned out to be pretty good and won pretty much everything there was to win in the world, from the golden gloves to the worldwide all-service tournament four years in a row when I was in the Marines.

"After I got discharged, I was out in California and went down to Watts. There, I joined the Black Panthers and was one of the first members. We were trying to reorganize Watts and let black people know that they were human. We made our own schools and built a parallel community to the white one. But, you know how folks be, those on the outside got real jealous and mad and came after us because we weren't going to live under them no more. When the people from the outside came in, we ended up burning Watts down. Many of us went to jail for the burning. I got four years, but got out in 18 months on good behavior.

"While I was in jail, I sent out an application to the University of Connecticut because I was still under the G.I. Bill. They let me in and I studied to be a lawyer because I wanted to get into the structure and turn things around. Even though I wanted to join the establishment, you never stop being a Black Panther. You always got to keep on.

"I ended up working on a few things up in Connecticut and organizing for a bunch of issues. After a while, I got tired and wanted to come home to Washington. When I came back, I became a roving leader in the Department of Recreation for Mayor Washington. When Barry came in, I worked with him, too. I grew up with Sharon Pratt Kelly in my younger days and became her personal bodyguard when she was mayor. I have worked with Williams and Fenty, too, to help get kids off of the streets and drugs and into college.

"I opened the first Midtown Youth Academy on 14th and T to teach reading, math, and boxing over forty years ago. I worked with kids to show them that they were somebody and could be anything they wanted to. On Sundays, I took em to church with me to celebrate God. The more kids we got, the more I looked for volunteers to come and help us. We believe in each one, teach one here. A lot of kids have come out of our program and opened businesses and been successful leaders of the community. In fact, I own this building, which we have been in for over 21 years, because some of the kids that I trained turned professional and helped me to buy this building. Some of the kids that came through here are people like Russel Davis, Tony Perez, and Sugar Ray Leonard. Even the ones who made it will tell you that there is no easy road in life.

"Now, we are the oldest boxing club in the city. People always tell me that I should change things here and make this place look new. I want to keep it the same way, so it is just like the people who trained here remember it. This is where they came from. They always need to remember that." 

The Midtown Youth Academy is located at 2206 14th St. NW. 

Tal aka 'The Razor' on Checkers

"I'm 79 and have been playing checkers my whole life. They call me 'The Razor' because I am known for giving close shaves. I beat people before they even know they are beat. I am considered a wise and sharp checkers player. That's why they gave me that nickname.

"I was born in Ozark, Alabama, and came to D.C. in 1953 to go to Howard University. I wanted to be a physician. When I enrolled, I needed a science major, so I picked chemistry. I graduated in 1957 and got into medical school a few years later. I spent a year in medical school and realized that it was not going to be my claim to fame. I left and took a job as a chemist for the Food and Drug Administration. In my time, I also worked with the Bureau of Commercial Fisheries. This was the time of Sputnik when they were studying the atmosphere. At the same time, they started to explore the sea. I was involved on the team that was exploring the chemical elements of the Sargasso Sea, off the west coast of Africa. It was a collaboration of several countries and I met scientists from Russia, Brazil, and Germany.

"Meeting all of these people and traveling exposed me to how other countries play checkers. The strategies are similar the world over, but there are different styles of checkers. There is international checkers, with 100 squares and 20 men per side. We play American pool checkers on a 64-square board with 12 men per side. You can move forward one spot, but you can also jump backwards. When you get a king, he can move the entire square on whatever line he is on.

"I didn't start playing on a regular basis until 1980. At the time, we used to play at barber shops and under trees around town. In 1985, we raised enough money to open the club by charging membership dues to pay the rent. This is the only checkers club in Washington, D.C., but they do still play in other places like Mason's Barbershop in N.E. and at cab stands around the city.

"For 25 years, we have been playing here almost every day. We have about 30 members and I have been the president for 20 years. We play in checkers leagues and travel the country for tournaments. This year, we have already been to Georgia, Florida, and North Carolina. Our national tournament is coming up in July in North Carolina. We play competitively among ourselves to get ready for the tournaments. There are five categories of players for the tournaments, from beginner to master. They are: Blue Ribbon, Gold Bar, Junior Master, Master, and Top Master. Last year, I played as a Junior Master and did not lose a game, so I will probably get moved up this year to Master. One of the best checkers players in this club is a guy named Freddie Owens. He is one of the best in the country. He always comes out in the money.

"Everyday that I can, when I finish what I am doing, I am here. They say that people should exercise your body, but you need to exercise your mind, too. We believe that there is a relationship between checkers and warding off Alzheimer's. We have a saying that an idle mind is the devil's workshop. By playing checkers on a regular basis, we exercise our minds and develop a nice sense of camaraderie. Wherever you go, you will find checkers players. We know where to find a good game when we are out of D.C., and most checkers players from out of town know to come find us when they want a good game in Washington.

"See, we are passionate about our game. We love our game."

The Capital Pool Checkers Club is located at 813 S St., N.W.

Frank on Buttons

"I was born in Baltimore and moved to Washington when I was five years old with my family. My parents had two grocery stores, real Mom-and-Pop stores, on the 1700 block of 10th Street NW and one on 5th and N St. As soon as I could count change, I was working at the counter. We didn't make much money, but everybody ate good. Back then, we had a book that people used to buy things. You bought things on credit and settled up at the end of the month. You don't see stuff like that anymore. People aren't as trusting as they used to be.

"I stayed in D.C. until I joined the National Guard and then went off to fight in Korea. I think that everyone should provide a year of some kind of service after high school. So many kids end up lost and don't know what to do. Public service is a good direction and an important way to help your country.

"When I got out of the Army, I came back to the area and got married at 25. My first job was selling insurance. Back then, I used to cold canvas. I went to a building and started at the top floor and talked my way down through every office trying to sell stuff. At the time, I could even go into the government buildings and walk around, too. I did get asked to leave the CIA because it was a secure building, but otherwise I could go most everywhere else.

"When I got fired from New York Life, I started selling buttons as souvenirs. Turns out I liked it a lot better. It started when my kids were in school and I went down to the government printing office to pick them up a copy of Kennedy's inaugural address for $o.50. I love history and thought it would be a nice present. When I came home, I told my wife, 'These look nice. I'll bet you can sell them.' She thought I was crazy. The first two people I showed them to wanted to buy them, so I bought 50 more and started selling them down at the Capitol. That was about forty years ago.

"I started selling all kinds of souvenirs and then I got really into buttons, especially the campaign buttons. I am the only guy in town who sells this stuff on the street. I got original stuff going back to McKinley and Teddy Roosevelt. I have Democrat, Republican, Vietnam War, peace and love, and even Socialist buttons. I try to have every button, so people don't have to argue with me about my politics. The average person will spend $10-15 on my buttons. Now, my most expensive button is $75. It is not super expensive, but some of this stuff gets up there. A Lincoln button could go for $1500.

"Buttons have been good to me. In 1984, I produced over one million buttons for the Reagan campaign. They were mostly those ethnic buttons, things like Greek-Americans for Reagan. Because of it, I was invited to both conventions and they called me up for a photo op with Nancy Reagan, so that was my 15 minutes of fame.

"I am 80 and think that I have another year or two out here. As long as my legs hold up, I will stay out here because I enjoy what I do. I meet a lot of great folks and have interesting conversations with people from all around the world. I'd much rather be doing this than staying home and watching television. I like to enjoy every day and tell people that every day that you are alive is like Christmas. If you are standing on your own two feet, you're doing good and should feel blessed." 

Mark on the Dance of Days

"The first thing to say is that I knew about the D.C. punk scene long before I came here. I grew up in one of the most rural and economically depressed areas in Montana and punk gave me the awareness of possibilities outside of what I knew. I am very proud of where I come from and I learned a lot there, but at the time, it felt like hell to me. Punk music, starting with the New York scene and Patti Smith and then the London scene with Sex Pistols and The Clash, gave me a reason to live. These were young people, more or less my age, creating this angry music that was ultimately so full of life. They were not waiting for change, they were going to make it themselves. 

"Punk music helped me go to college. College was not one of those things that everybody did where I grew up. It was extremely optional. I wanted to study things that I believed in and become an activist. I wanted to change the world. That is why D.C. grabbed me. When I left college, I was very career oriented and came to Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. It was a pipeline into the establishment, for the better or worse. 

"I was from a small town, so coming here was very overwhelming. I had never seen homelessness or racial segregation, and it just tore my heart apart. My crisis became even more profound when I went to Central America in 1985. The poverty there was at a whole new level and there was an ongoing war where the U.S. was not playing a positive role. At school, I was being trained to be a mid-level functionary in this system that was supporting these policies. I knew that I could not go forward in the direction I had just spent tens of thousands of dollars for school. At the time, the only thing that made sense to me was the D.C. punk scene. It was about doing things yourself and having a positive mental attitude. So for the second time, punk rock revolutionized my life. 

"It was at that time that I thought that someone needed to write a book about the punk music scene here. It was an incredible story that mattered a lot to me. I get New York and London, but D.C. as a punk rock center, it seemed so unexpected. I wanted to share the story of how this happened. I started doing research in 1986 and the finished product came out in 2001. The D.C. punk scene and its continuing influence around the world is an astonishing an inspirational story. 

"Punk music is a chapter of D.C. that many people don't know about, but more people should. People think that this is a buttoned-up town where we only import culture. There is a part of that stereotype that is true, but D.C. played a huge role in punk and rock music and exporting a positive mental approach towards living and tackling problems to everyone who could hear our music. For people who don't like punk music, that is cool, but you should try and embrace the spirit. This is a city built out of big dreams and D.C. punk is just another amazing representation of that."

Mark Andersen is the author of Dance of Days: Two Decades of Punk in the Nation's Capital. He is also involved with We Are Family, which is a senior citizen support network.

Jewell on Oral Histories

“I grew up in Arizona and Hawaii. I first came to Washington in 1956 when my husband joined the Foreign Service. We were in-and-out of Washington from 1956 to 1985, and then settled here permanently. We were posted twice in Holland, once in Sierra Leone, Morocco, Curacao, Trinidad and Tobago, and Brazil. My husband was an economic officer and I was a tag along spouse. In those days, we couldn’t work, but we gave lovely dinner parties and brought up perfect children. 

"When we came back to Washington, I was around 50 and no one would hire me. I had no resume or network, as I had been overseas for so many years. Saying that you gave a nice dinner party in Curacao didn’t do much for helping you get a job. My husband suggested that I start helping out the city. I started by helping to clean up our neighborhood and helping, in my small way, to bring my area of 16th Street back after the Martin Luther King riots. 

"I also started doing oral histories. My first one was of foreign service spouses. Foreign Service wives had, in my day, been very quiet because they did not want their words or actions to reflect on their husband’s work. We used to be included in our husband’s efficiency reports, if you can believe that. They used to look at our dinner parties, philanthropic work, and the behavior of our children. In the end, I don’t think that stuff ever really mattered, though. A foreign service officer was successful if he was good at his job, but they wanted us to believe that our behavior mattered. Now, things are so different. Many of the spouses are men and most spouses are allowed to work, either in the Embassy, or the host country. We interviewed over 200 people and published a book, Married to the Foreign Service: An Oral History of the American Diplomatic Spouse.

"At the time, I was also involved with the Woman's National Democratic Club. The Hatch Act prohibited me from promoting either party when my husband was a government employee. When he retired, one of the first things I did was to join the club. I came to lunches here and joined different task forces. When my foreign service spouses book was finished, I came over and did an oral history here. With the foreign service spouses, I knew nothing about oral histories, but I knew my subject. This was the opposite. I missed the women’s movement and civil rights because we were abroad, but I knew how to do an oral history. I worked to publish Democratic Women about the amazing history of this place. 

"The Woman's National Democratic Club has been around since 1922. Our building was originally a mansion designed by Harvey Page, a notable Washington architect, and built in 1892-94 for a descendent of the noted Adams family of Massachusetts. After she died, her son rented the building to senators and cabinet secretaries. We purchased the building in 1927 and started to grow the group. One of the members gave us an interest free loan and the Democratic National Committee helped us with our mortgage, the salary for the executive director, and funding our newsletter until the depression hit. 

"This club has a lot of important history and gone through many changes. Eleanor Roosevelt was very involved with our work and we have had every sitting president here, expect for Clinton and Obama. In doing research for the book, one of my favorite stories about the club is about the musical Hair. When it was first screened in Washington, there was a lot of debate in the city about whether it was too racy. The club put on a special performance of the production and people resigned in protest that the club had sunk to such depths. The club has really been at the forefront of many important social and cultural issues, even if some of the membership moves a little slower. Now, my generation is the mainstay of the club, but there is a new youthful group, people in their 60’s, who are taking the lead here to move the club and its history forward." 

The Woman's National Democratic Club is located at 1526 New Hampshire Ave NW.  

David on the Brickskeller

"I was born at home at the corner of Rodman and Connecticut Avenue in 1950. People talk about being a native born Washingtonian, it doesn't get much more native than that. I played music professionally and lived on the road for about six years, but have been here otherwise. I guess I just can't figure out how to get out of here. 

"My wife's grandfather started the Brickskeller in 1957. He was French and a Cordon Bleu certified chef. In the 1940's, he was a chef at Napoleon's, which was Washington's best restaurant at the time. He wanted to open his own place and leased a space over by the Mayflower Hotel and opened the restaurant Blackstones. Eventually, he bought this space and opened the Brickskeller  in 1957. There were a lot of good restaurants at the time, so he wanted to make his stand out. At the time, places had good wine lists, but no one had a good beer list. This place opened with around 50 different beers available. We probably had the most beers in the world then, and we have tried to keep that up. 

"There were a million bars called the Ratskeller at the time, especially around colleges. Ratskeller is a German word meaning a bar below street level that serves beer. He didn't want to have another ratskeller, but he liked the sufiix. The place was built of brick, so he combined the two words. The original menu of this place had Alaskan king crab legs for $1.75 and a pitcher of beer for $.85. Those prices are still good, if you pay in 1957 silver dimes. 

"This bar has gone through many variations. In the 1970's, this was the largest dart bar in the country. The problem with darts is that the place was jam packed, but the bartenders were sitting on their asses because no one was drinking. They didn't want to screw up their game. The place also has an interesting music history. Emmylou Harris, Mama Cass, and Jose Feliciano played here. Jim Morrison used to hang out here when he lived in Virginia. 

"During the bicentennial, someone dared the owners to have a beer from every state. Missouri, at the time, was a dry state, so they didn't succeed, but it planted the seed to expand the beer list. They bought a truck and sent it around the states to get beer from all over, including Alaska. We had about 400 beers when I came here in 1982, half of which were cans because can collecting had been popular in the 70's. I saw that the future of the industry was in better quality bottled beer. In the first year I was here, I increased the number of beers to 850. At one point, we had it up to 1,300 beers. Now, we have a little over 1,000. I like having the opportunity to present the world of beer to people who want to experience it. 

"Since opening, this place is remarkably unchanged. People come in who haven't been here in 40 years and say, 'This place looks exactly the same.' I say, 'We probably swept a couple times." 

The Brickskeller is located at 1523 22nd Street NW.

Laura on the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington

"My family started in the grocery business in D.C. My great-grandfather came here in 1918, just two days after World War I ended. He opened a grocery store in Trinidad. My grandmother was a bookkeeper, and my grandfather sold milk and eggs at the market. My father was always very proud of being born in Washington and his roots here. I grew up with a strong awareness of local history and an attachment to the places and people here.

"I used to work as an international tax lawyer for the IRS. I loved it, but one day when I was walking home, I thought that these multinationals and all of their tax problems are so divorced from everyday life. I always knew that I wanted to do something that was going to make our community a better place. Ever since I was a kid, I was interested in historic buildings, the environment, and creating a sense of place. When I started to volunteer at the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington in 1993, things just clicked. A year later, the curator told me that the executive director was going to retire and I should apply. There were a number of people applying and I didn't think that I would get it. But, at the age of 35, I became executive director. Since coming on, I have been working to build a strong sense of pride in our Jewish community and history in Washington and help build bridges to the wider community.

"The Jewish population was always small here compared to other places. The Jewish community started to form in D.C. around the 1840's. By community, I mean 20 families of around 400 Jews who came in through the ports in New York, Boston, and Baltimore. The presence of the government helped lure additional people. Until World War I, we only had about 2,000 Jews in Washington. Later, the number of Jews grew dramatically, as a lot of Jews came here to work for the New Deal or the newly-formed government agencies. Now, Washington has grown into one of the most educated and affluent Jewish communities in the country. 

"Jews have lived in all four corners of this city. While there were neighborhood enclaves, there was not one particular Jewish neighborhood in Washington that had all of the Jewish life. Jews largely spread to the thoroughfares, where they could open shops. In NW, it was 7th Street. In SW, it was along 4 1/2 Street, which isn't there anymore because of the urban renewal. Jews were also on H Street, NE, and in Anacostia. These were mostly mom-and-pop stores, but a number of the smaller shops ended up becoming department stores like Lansburgh's, Saks, Hechts, and King's Palace.

"In the 1920's, Jews started to move uptown to Petworth, Shepherd Park, and Silver Spring. As more and more Jews were living uptown, many of the synagogues left downtown - specifically I St between 5th and 8th Streets where there was a synagogue on practically ever corner - for bigger spaces and to be closer to their congregants. In the 1950's, that is when the commercial area on 7th Street started to go into decline. Things got much worse after the riots. After that, people were not coming downtown, as they were afraid. In 1969, many of the remaining Jewish groups, mainly the Jewish Community Center (JCC), the Hebrew Home, and the Jewish Social Service Agency, moved out of the city to Rockville. For them, it may have seemed like the clear choice because the Jewish community was largely uptown.

"Because there has been a real push to make D.C. more of a livable city in recent years, that has helped to reestablish some of the important historical Jewish sites in the city. Who would have dreamt that in 1997, the JCC would buy back their building on 16th and Q Street and there would be a downtown JCC again. Moving forward, I would love to see more of an emphasis on arts and culture in the Jewish community here. You look at places like New York, which has a dedicated Jewish museum, and Toronto, where the Jewish Federation has a vice president for culture. We are working to be able to do those kinds of things for the community here."

Laura Cohen Apelbaum is the executive director of the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington. 

Richard on the Treasury Building

"I grew up in North Hampton, Massachusetts. I did my Masters and Ph.D. in Massachusetts. I have a doctorate in American and New England studies. When I finished my coursework, I took my first job as an architectural historian with the state of Vermont. That was followed by a job in the Virginia historic preservation office as an architectural historian. From there, I got a job as the curator of the White House of the Confederacy in Richmond, Virginia. Then, I crossed the Mason-Dixon line to work at the Treasury in 1990. I first worked as a collections manager and then as assistant curator and then curator and historic preservation officer for the Department of the Treasury.

"This building has a lot of history. The Treasury building is the third oldest federal building in the District of Columbia, preceded by the Capitol and the White House. The first Treasury building was built in 1800 and then burned by the British when they came to town in 1814. A second building was erected, which was burned again in 1833. After the first two burnings, Congress wised up and hired Robert Mills who was from South Carolina to come and build a fireproof building. Mills had worked on the Capitol and used the Bourse in Paris as his prototype for the Treasury building. He gave every employee his own office, and essentially created the first modern office building in the United States. Since then, the building has undergone a number of extensions and renovations and now essentially occupies an entire city block.

"Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon, who served from 1921-1932, was one of the first to attempt to recognize Treasury's historical and artistic significance. He instructed one of his assistants to collect historic furnishings and was instrumental in celebrating the historical significance of this building. However, it was not until 1986, that the Treasury Department created the office of the curator. Now, comparable offices exist at the White House, Senate, Capitol, and State Department. As the curator, I am charged with the preservation, restoration, and maintenance of the Treasury building and the Treasury collection. Treasury has the most comprehensive and oldest portrait collection within the Executive Branch. We also have a large collection of antique office furnishings, as well as museum quality art that relates to Treasury's history, including serving as the temporary office of President Andrew Johnson after Lincoln's assassination."

Read more about the history of the Treasury Department  here. 

Derek on the Greatest Profession on the Planet

"Me and my brother, my father, my grandmother, and my great-grandfather are all from Washington, D.C. My family has a strong connection to the city, but, like many families, we eventually migrated out of the city to the suburbs. I grew up in Maryland and spent most of my childhood there. I grew up in the hard-core scene in D.C., which is funny to think about now that I own a bar. 

"As a teenager, I moved to Charleston, South Carolina, with my father. There is where I started to stray away from the idealistic, straight edge 14 year old and started drinking and partying with kids in high school. As soon as I could, I left South Carolina and came back to D.C. I had no plans or designs of being a wine-and-spirits professional at the time, but I got a job waiting tables at Rocky's in Adams Morgan, which is where Evolve is now. 

"At the time, I was somewhat aimless. I know this is going to come off as a little harsh, but a lot of people in the restaurant industry are aimless, which is a nice way of saying losers. It is an easy way to make cash and support substance-abuse issues. I considered myself one of those losers. Fortunately, I didn't have substance abuse issues, but I didn't know what I wanted to do. Eventually, one of the bartenders left and Rocky asked if I knew how to bartend. I said, 'Yes,' but I really had no idea. She could sense my hesitation and asked me to make her a rum punch on the spot. I grabbed every rum on the rail and threw in some juice and sour mix and garnished it with every piece of fruit I could find. Amazingly, she said it was good and that is how I got my first job bartending. After that, I fell in love with it and knew that it was the job that I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I think that bartending is the greatest profession on the planet. Sometimes it is hard because people can abuse alcohol. There have been instances when I had to cut off people who were my grandparents' age. As much as I lionize drinking culture, I recognize the need for moderation. 

"After Rocky's closed, I went to work at a number of different places and then studied to be a sommelier. In the end, I didn't love being a sommelier as much as I loved being a bartender. While I was still a sommelier, some friends and I started a speakeasy during our days off. Eventually, I came back into bartending when I got involved with The Gibson and eventually opened The Passengerwith my brother, Tom, and Paul Ruppert. When we opened this place, we wanted a bar that was of the District. We were tired of the mentality that D.C. is not good enough, so we thought there was no better way to show pride in the District than putting a D.C. flag on the door with a sign that says, 'God save the District.' We also wanted to incorporate local things, like half-smokes and rickeys.

"The rickey is actually D.C's native cocktail. The gin rickey may be the most popular rickey, but the bourbon rickey was the original, and it was invented at Shoomakers, which was on Pennsylvania Avenue, in 1893. It was described quite literally as a shit hole. One of the bartenders, George C. Williamson, was considered Washington's greatest bartender at the time. The Washington Post called him the 'King of Julep' makers and he invented the rickey. Every President visited Shoemakers except for Rutherford B. Hayes, who was dry. I went and made drinks for President Obama, but can you imagine that presidents actually used to go visit that guy to get a drink. It blows my mind. In his obituary, it said that Williamson likely had a hand in every political decision of the time, as Shoomakers was where all of the politicians and journalists hung out and talked about work. 

"Shoomakers eventually closed because of prohibition, which came to D.C. earlier than the rest of the country. Morris Sheppard, a senator from Texas, wanted to make an example of the District. D.C., now as then, drinks more per capita than any city in the country. Correspondingly, the indicators of drunkenness are 36th or 37th in the nation, which means that we can hold our alcohol." 

Derek Brown is the co-owner of The Passenger at 1021 7th Street Northwest.  He is also a regular contributor to The Atlantic.  

Paul on Riding Through History

"I was born in Camp Pendelton, California. I came to the D.C. area in 1968. My Dad was in the Marine Corps and just came back from Vietnam and was stationed to Marine headquarters. I was in the 5th grade, so I followed him. I went away to college and finally finished last year. I was on the 34 year plan and finally finished with a degree in biology at George Mason. 

"Growing up in Virginia, my Mom would take us to lunch or dinner every Christmas in the District. I didn't get my real feeling of the District until I started working on the Hill during college. In my time here, I got to see Washington from a lot of different perspectives. I have done all kinds of work here. I have worked in the bowels of the beast on K Street and on the Hill. I have done stuff at the homeless shelters and seen that side of Washington. D.C. is a very diverse place. One of my favorite studies is by the Brookings Institute called Polyglot Washington, it says that 21% of the people who live in this city do not speak English as a first language at home.

"I started driving a pedi-cab in July of 2009. I really love D.C. and think that I am a permanent tourist here. There are so many worlds in this 60 square miles area.There is a lot to see and know in Washington and I am always learning. Many of us don't realize that we are walking, or riding, through history every day here. When I have passengers, I like to know where people work and what their interests are, so I can tailor the tour to what they like. The great percentage of people that I pick up and take on tours are nice, honest folks who share my love of Washington. Every once in a while, I get a few bad apples.

"I have been all around the world and Washington D.C. in the spring is probably the most beautiful place in the world. And I am not just talking about the cherry blossoms. Look at all of this beauty around us. This place is really amazing."

Read more about Paul's adventures in D.C. here.

Chuck on Being the Godfather of Go-Go

"Go-go is a groove, man. It is a mixture of Latin percussion, jazz, blues, and African call and response. To me, it has also always had a spiritual vibe because the roots of go-go came from a church that my Mom used to take me to as a kid. At our church, people used to jump and shout, just like they do now when they are listening to go-go. 

"D.C. is where go-go got started. I always say that D.C. is my hall of fame. I was raised in all four corners of this city. When I was a kid, we used to live in a little shack by the railroad tracks. I used to beat on a rock to the beat of the train going by. Everyone in my family could sing, but my Mom could outsing anyone. We used to sing at church together, and she took me around to sing at house parties. We would pass around a hat to make some money. Then, I started shining shoes around town. One time, I shined Louis Armstrong's shoes outside of the Howard Theater. Back then, I would make $2 or $3 in a day, as shoe shines only cost a dime. I remember he gave me a whole dollar tip. I will never forget that. I told myself that one day I would play at the Howard Theater. 

"I left home and school at 13. I had all kinds of jobs and got into a bit of trouble. I spent my share of time behind bars, and then I did an eight-year stint at Lorton Reformatory. I had been to several other jails before, but all those experiences taught me was how not to go to those same jails no more. When I went to Lorton, it changed my whole life. That was over 50 years ago, and I ain't never been to jail since. I am proud of me for that. To me, Lorton was college. There, I got a high-school diploma, learned a trade, and learned the guitar. In Lorton, I paid a young man five packs of cigarettes to make me a guitar in the wood-working shop. I watched some of the cats there play, but pretty much taught myself the guitar. At Lorton, chow time and showtime used to both be at 5 p.m. on Saturdays. After about six months of practicing, I made it onto the show. When word got out that I was playing, they had to change the chow time to 7:30 p.m. because no one was at the mess hall when I was playing. That let me know that I could put on a show.

"When I got out, I used to play in a group called Los Latinos and the Earls of Rhythm. In 1966, I started my own band, Chuck Brown and the Soul Searchers. I liked to keep the music going in between songs, so there was not a break. See, the music just goes and goes. I mixed up the Top 40 with a lot of the Latin percussion and the call-and-response. At the time, they had go-go clubs and go-go girls, but no go-go music, so I decided to call it go-go. When they heard my music, people started coming out of their clothes and moving the tables and chairs out of the place, so there was more room to dance. The music really caught on in 1976. After that, we put out a tune called Bustin Loose. That was our biggest hit. In 1979, we were on Soul Train, which meant that go-go had arrived. Then, some of the other bands started catching on, like Rare Essence, Trouble Funk, and the Junkyard Band. 

"Still, when I get on the stage, I become enraged and forget about my age. A lot of people ask me when I am going to retire. I say, 'Come on, I still got the fire, the desire, and I am getting hired. Ain't no need to retire.' People call me the Godfather of Go-Go. I didn't give myself that name; it was the fans and the DJs. They made it all happen and I appreciate it. Looking back, I still would have been happy had go-go just been popular in D.C. I didn't expect it to go anywhere, but it went all over the world. I will always be grateful to D.C. for that -- and for my family. You got a lot of love in D.C. I found my first wife here. We stayed married for 27 years. I then got remarried and have been with my second wife for 25 years. Both of them were great. I am the one that wasn't so great, but I am cool now because I am too old to be anything else. Now, I have four kids. I lost one son in an automobile accident 20 years ago. We have five grandkids and another grandkid on the way. I really feel lucky. 

"Last thing I gotta say is that for all of you who want to be on your feet dancing for hours, you need to go to a go-go."

Cindy on the Congressional Cemetery

"I was born in Mayfield, Kentucky and was raised in Memphis, Tennessee. When I finished college, I got a job with the Agency for International Development in Washington. I am a Republican and very involved in politics. At the time, I was asked to become the Executive Director of the National Young Republicans. When Richard Nixon left office, I was devastated and went home to Memphis in distress. I came back ten years later when I married my husband. We moved to Capitol Hill and have been here ever since. 

"In 1984, my husband was working with the Congress and the president of the association that runs the Congressional Cemetery was a good friend of his. He said, 'Paul, I need you and Cindy to come and help us clean the cemetery on Saturday.' I thought that it would be a fun thing to do, so I showed up wearing sandals, shorts and I had my Japanese farmers knife, which is used for pulling weeds. We drove up in front of the cemetery and saw the terrible condition of the place. I said, 'This is not going to work. Take me back home.' I put on boots, long pants and used a sickle, rather than a weeding tool, as the grass was above my knees.

"At the time, the cemetery had no money and nobody to keep it up. Most of the people who are buried here don't have anyone left as we have been burying people since 1807. There used to be hookers in the east end and wild dogs in the west end and the drug dealers on the front of the property. An association was formed in 1974 to help take care of the place. The association sought help from Veterans Affairs and the National Parks Service, but both organizations could not help for different reasons. So, they decided to have a bake sale and raised $35. Then, they had a fundraiser at someone's house and raised a few hundred dollars. Then, they had a Halloween party here and raised a few thousand dollars. Then, they sent out a letter to all of the people in the neighborhood to seek members. In 1978, the Association raised enough money to mow the grass three times a year. They couldn't rake or do anything about the snow. The rest of the time, the mowing was done in pieces by volunteers.

"After I volunteered in 1984 and 1985, I did not come back to the cemetery until 2005. When I came back, I was stunned at how much the cemetery had changed. At the time, the association was looking for someone to manage and build upon the history of the cemetery and put out a request for proposals for an executive director. The vice chairman of the board, who I had met a number of times, asked if I would consider applying . I said, 'I don't want to run a cemetery.' She said, it is more than just running a cemetery. I said, 'Well, if I can do what I want to do, I'd love to take the job.'

"When I got here, there was one nice lady who answered the phone for four hours a day, three days a week. There are now seven of us. We are working to tell the stories of the people in this cemetery who made a difference in American history and for this city.There are 55,000 people buried here, including 1,200 veterans. This cemetery still has people who own plots, but haven't used them because they are still alive. We bury around 12 people a year.

"When L'Enfant drew up plans for the city, the Southeast corner was called Reservation 13 and set aside for the insane asylum, the pauper's house, the jail, and the hospital for the terminally ill and diseased. The cemeteries were established up near Takoma Park and in upper Southeast, but the location that was chosen for this cemetery was marshland. The U.S. government swapped the original location with a piece of Reservation 13. The cemetery was originally 4 1/2 acres. The first person buried was the master stone mason of the Capitol. The third person buried was the wife of the Commandant of the Navy Yard. The fifth person buried here was Senator Uriah Tracy. By 1812, we buried 12 members of the House and Senate and a Vice President and a number of Cabinet officials and military leaders. At that time, Congress declared us the Congressional burying ground because there was no embalming. When you died, you had to go someplace pretty fast. This was the only cemetery in the federal city.

"Probably our most famous person is the March King himself, John Philip Sousa. He was the very famous director of the Marine Corps Band. Matthew Brady was a photographer in the 1800's who took pictures of the Civil War and also took the famous picture of Lincoln that is on the $5 bill. We also have J. Edgar Hoover buried here. Some people feel that he was not straight. I don't know if that is true or not, but his longtime secretary, Clyde Tolson, who was number two in the FBI and his housemate and inherited all of his property bought a site as close to Hoover as he could get, which was about 12 sites away. We also have Leonard Matlovich who was the first person kicked out to the army for being openly gay. His tombstone says, 'When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.'

"We are still a secret in D.C. Even people on the Hill have no idea where this place is. For the last 40 years, we haven't done anything to publicize ourselves. Until ten years ago, we were embarrassed about our condition. Now, we have specialized and general tours, pageants, plays and musicals. We are also developing materials to help D.C. students learn about the history of this city. There are 26 people buried in this cemetery for whom D.C. schools are named. We have the first ten mayors of the city buried here. We have the man who designed the Washington Monument. We have editors of the first and second newspapers here. We have Senators, Congressmen, and Vice Presidents. We have the guy who designed the Navy Yard and the man who ordered it burned, so that the British couldn't get it. This cemetery is full of stories about D.C. and our nation's history."

Cindy Hays is the Executive Director of the Congressional Cemetery at 1801 E Street SE.

Ron on Giving Things an Extended Life

"I was born in New Olreans, but my memory of that place is limited, as we moved to the Washington area when I was 4. I grew up in the suburbs of Washington and the long-standing attitude towards living in the city was, 'Who would want to do that?' I was around during the riots and very much aware of their impact on the city. I did eventually move into D.C. in 1974. This city was a ghost town after rush hour. At the time, I was on a limited budget and there were ten restaurants throughout the whole city where I could afford to eat. Now, there are 20 reasonably priced restaurants on every block. To me, it was a no-brainer that this city would come back, especially because of the stabilizing effect of government. 

"At the time, all of these neighborhoods had such interesting architecture and there was very little being done to celebrate it. Now, you can appreciate how beautiful this place is, but back then, you saw everything through smokey glasses. There clearly were several neighborhoods that were interesting and well-kept. One of them was Adams Morgan, were I moved shortly after coming to the city. Back then, I worked at George Washington University in the Physical Plant. Through that, I learned about the demolition process. I remember my first lesson in the business of demolition. When they were tearing down my apartment building, I was determined to buy this beautiful brass doorknob in the house. My Dad used to have an old porcelain door knob as a paper weight. I can't help but think that got me interested in door knobs. That also inspired the name for our store, theBrass Knob. I walked up to the demolition guy, Cool Breeze, and said, ‘How much for the door knob?’ He said, ‘$5.’ I said, 'How much for the door?’ He said ’$5.” If I had asked just for the door, I would have gotten the door and the doorknob for the same price. So, I ended up deciding to buy the contents of the house for $90. That was a pretty good purchase and was my introduction into the salvage business. 

"My business started because I had a truck and a place to store my stuff. My partner and I opened our first store in Adams Morgan, in the space next to the current Brass Knob store. We split into two different corporations a few years ago when I opened this warehouse, but we still work together closely. I find my stuff through a lot of different ways. The guys that are in the demolition business are my first leads. I met and befriended them and gained their trust a long time ago. You had to prove that you will not hurt yourself or steal anything on site. Those are the two big tests. I also have pickers who bring me stuff. With some of them, there is always a question of whether they are bringing me a legitimate take. I have to be very clever about finding out where the materials came from. On occasion, there have been issues when people bring me things that are not from a legitimate take and I am very quick to cooperate with the police. 

"To me, this business started because I could not get over the idea that people were throwing all of this value away. I used to go the dumpsters with a friend and strip all of the hardware off of the doors. See, I always enjoyed the collecting part of this business. You go into these deep mysterious dark buildings, basements, attics, and cubby holes looking for treasure. There is so much history in the buildings here and it is nice to take parts of those buildings and bring them to a new life. It is always fun to tell people where things come from. We get stuff from Embassies and sell the bathtubs of the rich and famous. I bought the bathtubs of Pamela Harriman's Georgetown building, she was a socialite and Winston Churchill's mother, so I can conjecture that some famous people probably took a bath in one of my bathtubs. Even if it is an insignificant piece of history, it is nice to think that things will have an extended life."

Ron is the owner of the Brass Knob Backdoors Warehouse on 57 N Street NW. 

Carol on Showing the Beauty of D.C.

"I am 60 years young. I have been living in Northeast for about 50-some years. I left once to go to Newark, New Jersey and stayed gone for eight years. I came back because I could not live no place else but D.C. The people in New Jersey were fine and everything, but there wasn't a sense of closeness. If I walk down the street and look at you and say, "Good morning,' what would your reply to me be? In New Jersey, they don't know. You say good morning and they don't say nothing. Here in Washington, even the winos say good morning to you.

"Today, I am taking my granddaughter, my great niece, and the two girls I take care of out on a stroll. These girls have no connection to D.C. because no one has taught them anything about this city. What they know about this city is that if you hear gun shots, you hit the floor. But there is so much beauty here, especially on H Street, that I am trying to show them. Back in the 60's, H Street was a beautiful place to walk and go shopping. On Sundays, parents would stroll up and down the street after church. After the riots, it all changed. 

"As I look around, our black children need help. There are a lot of bright, young black kids out here, but there is not a lot out there for them. All they need is something to do and somewhere to go, so that they can be proud of themselves. I am so proud that my granddaughter wants to be a doctor and my great niece wants to be a lawyer. But no one talks about that - what black children want to be. They talk about what they do that is not right. Like I said, there are a lot of positive black children out there. We need to help them for a change. 

"I would like to get a hold of the people passing laws and just shake 'em. Some of those people have no knowledge of what life is really like in the inner city of Washington, D.C. They just pass these laws. I mean, laws are fine, but if they are not working year-after-year, why are you keeping them? Some of them are as silly as silly can be. Look at what is going on with H Street. Why are you going to put in a streetcar? We already have buses and cabs. Instead of putting in this nonsense, build some schools. Streetcars were on H St. when I was a little girl. You decided to tear them down once already. Now, you want them back? This is silly nonsense. If you want to develop this area, develop the schools and help our children.

"When I went to school, you could play in peace. There was no cussing and fighting going on like you have today. You didn't have children running for their lives. I lost my son to these streets. He was a professional boxer and had been accepted to the University of Maryland. He got caught up with the wrong crowd. You know, the day he died, I had a bad feeling. Mothers can sense things. I remember driving to work and seeing an ambulance pass. I said, 'Lord, someone just lost their baby.' It turns out that it was my son in the ambulance. He had been shot. I was working as a nurse at the time, so they let me see my boy at the hospital. He was shot in the head and up and down his arm. I knew my baby was gone. People say that this is part of life on the streets, but I won't accept that. See, I believe in God. My son did not belong to me, but to God. I guess God wanted to take him back. I accept that, but I will never accept the violence in my community."

From left to right, Precious, Dominique, Oluwaferanmi, Leondria, and Carol. 

Bijan on the Basketball Capital of the United States

"I came to D.C. in the first grade. My family moved around Washington a couple of times, and we eventually settled in Brookland when I was 8. Moving to that neighborhood got me really interested in sports. One of my neighbors was McKinley Armstrong, the famous basketball coach from McKinley Tech High School. He had a son my age and a hoop in his yard. I always played sports in the neighborhood and eventually started playing on intramural and school teams as I got older. Where I grew up, if you didn’t follow sports, you were out of the lunch-room conversation. Sports became the all-consuming pastime in my life, whether it was playing them, following them, or watching them on TV. 

"After high school, I was playing less, but I was following all of the sports in D.C. religiously, especially basketball, and got interested in writing about sports. Through that, I really learned about Washington's amazing basketball history. Little did I know when I was a little kid that high-school basketball in D.C. is as popular and well-played because of something that happened in a century ago. There was a gentleman with a doctorate from Harvard named E.B. Henderson, who learned basketball from James Naismith, the inventor of the game. Dr. Henderson introduced basketball to schools in the D.C. area, especially the segregated schools, and to the first historic YMCA down on 12th Street, which won a colored national championship in 1910. While D.C. did not have the size, it became a hotbed of basketball. Because of that, by the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s, D.C. had some very good teams. Great local players like Elgin Baylor, Dave Bing, Adrian Dantley, Danny Ferry, and Len Bias are largely an outcome of the growth of the game here, and of the great local high-school basketball programs like Armstrong High, McKinley Tech, Cardozo, De Matha Catholic, and St. Anthony's. Recruiters started beating a path to D.C. to find the next great players. 

"D.C., for its size, has produced more elite college basketball players than any other city. We have also had over 200 players drafted to the NBA from the D.C. area. When Street and Smith's did its 100 greatest college players of all time, ten were from D.C. No other metropolitan area had even close to that many. The former Boston Celtics coach Red Auerbach once said that D.C. has the best schoolyard basketball in the country, and he is from Brooklyn. It was a lot of local talent that built some of the great D.C. collegiate basketball programs, like American and Georgetown. When John Thompson left St. Anthony's High School to coach at Georgetown, he brought some players with him to build the nucleus of his first successful team. 

"D.C. athletes, whether in the NBA, college, high school, military, prison, or community leagues, are always some of the most outstanding basketball players. As a writer, I am trying to draw attention to the fact that basketball is an important part of the history of this place, just like the music history, the civil rights history, and the home-rule history. D.C. is not only the capital of the United States, but the basketball capital of the United States."

Read more about D.C. basketball's past, present, and future on Bijan C. Bayne's website and blog. 

Dan on Seeing Washington from a Piano Bench

“I was born in Buffalo, New York in 1935. Of course, I’ve been lying about my age and telling people that I am 38…Celsius. Those were some tough times. We're talking the Depression, now. My father had a job pumping gas. He used to wear a leather bow tie to work. Can you imagine that? I tell you, he was just lucky to have a job. To have babies during that time when you didn’t know what you were getting into was a big deal. But we laughed a lot and played music as a way to keep things positive in our family. One of my father's great passions was the piano and now me and my brother are pianists.

"My parents would have their friends come over and we would perform for them. If we were naughty, they would send us to bed without applause. Even now, we still put on the same act. It hasn’t changed at all. I got my break when we moved to Miami. At the time, the coaxial cable had not come down from New York, so the only way you could get television programs was by mailing them on kinescope from the studios. So, Florida was always a week behind in television. That gave a great break to kids who had a lot of moxie to be local entertainers. At the time, I had my own radio and TV shows and a column in the paper. I even played in Miami Beach at the famous Sagamore Lounge of the Sagamore Hotel. Get this, we would do punch lines in Yiddish and we didn’t know what we were saying. Then, I got a national commercial for cigarettes, which was a huge deal. I look back now and that was crazy, as cigarettes killed everyone in my family. 

"I always thought that I was going to be an actor. Music was very easy to me, so I didn’t respect it. I moved to D.C. to go to Catholic University and stayed for many years after as an actor. We were doing a scene from Henry IV, Part 1 at the Mayflower Hotel the same night the French singer Edtih Piaf was performing at the hotel. Her piano player didn’t show up, so they asked us if anyone knew how to play French music. Of course in show business, when anyone asks you if you do something, you say. 'Yes!' That was how I got my start at the Mayflower Hotel back in the Eisenhower Administration. That’s how long I’ve been here. 

"People call the Mayflower Washington’s second best address after 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. All of the President’s have stayed here. We have all of the Inaugural galas. There is a lot of history here. Listen to this true story, the hotel used to have a strolling fiddle player named Julian Altman. He got sick at 85 and on his deathbed, he tells his wife, 'This fiddle is pretty important.' Turns out it was a Stradivarius that had been stolen out of a dressing room of Carnegie Hall. I don’t think he stole it, but it's an amazing story.

"Now, I work at lunch at the Prime Rib and evenings at the Mayflower.  Both places get the same kind of  lobbyist and Congressmen crowd. You can always tell the difference when they’re at dinner because the lobbyists picks up the check. When I play, I look at people and think about what was popular when they were 18. That is the key. I also get a lot of requests. Guys usually want As Time Goes by from Casablanca. Women always like Memory from Cats. Late in the evening, after people have had a few, they usually come and sit on the bench with me, crying about how they wish they had practiced piano when they were little. I tell you, I've really seen a lot from this bench."

Catch Dan Ruskin playing lunch daily at the Prime Rib (2020 K St. NW) and in the evenings at the Mayflower Hotel  (1127 Connecticut Ave. NW.)  Listen to one of his original tracks here.