| 16 January 2006 Discovery A friend wrote me overnight, saying that he was proud to have had a career in The Family Business without actually having served in Washington, though it looked like it might actually happen soon . I sniffed at that. The agony of living here is one thing we wear like a badge of courage. I wrote him back to that effect, not wanting to deal with the third helicopter loss in Iraq in ten days, or that we are raining Hellfire missiles on a Pakistani village and still not getting that bastard Zarkawi. It is too soon to discover who we actually killed. They need the bodies. And of course the fact that I have to go to the office on a Federal holiday, since the Phone Company does not recognize Dr. King's day. I think it is shocking and short sighted on their part, but that is the way it is. There is no football today. Desperately attempting to delay the inevitable, I wrote back with a real estate recommendation. "Don't live in Fairfax ," I said, "or Woodbridge , or Pennsylvania . The commute will kill you. And stay away from Maryland at all costs." I tapped on. The issue with Virginia is the Potomac River. That is why it is relatively civilized on this side, because it was so difficult to get across. The portion of the SW District of Columbia that lay in the Commonwealth was given back in 1846. That is why the County has the peculiar truncated diamond shape, since it was part of the precise construction of the Federal Enclave. Too hard to administer, nothing but red-neck bumpkins over here anyway. Arlington County (once it was Alexandria County , but it got too confusing with the independent city of the same name to the south) was then conquered by the Federals, and fortified in the late unpleasantness between the States. The lines of defenses have mostly sunk back into the earth from which they were raised. Still, occasionally you will turn a corner and see a vast overgrown rampart and realize what it was, bristling with Union artillery. Arlington was a destitute and sad backyard to Washington for years after the war was over. My friend indicated he wanted to ride his bicycle to the Federal Complex over in Maryland for fitness. I gave a low whistle when I read that. That would mean rolling along on the looming hulk of the Wilson Bridge . There is no bike lane on the old span, and I would think it would only take one try to die. But on the new span there might be a dedicated lane. But then, what would happen when you got to the other side? It is not nice over there, at the part of Maryland that embraces the SE District, not so much that the trees are not green in their time, nor the hills sloping and lovely. There is just crushing poverty and simmering anger at the BMWs and Volvos that whisk their owners to the Federal part of the city. I had a little project of disovery a year or two ago, which was to photograph the Boundary Stones of the District. They were the first monuments authorized by the new Republic, one to be placed each mile of the forty-mile diamond of the new Federal District. The south corner stone was ceremoniously laid at Jones' Point on April 15, 1791, the closest point of the District to General Washington's plantation at Mount Vernon . It is now part of the foundation of the old light house, almost under the spans of the new Wilson Bridge . The survey crew headed by Major Andrew Ellicott and navigated by emancipated slave Benjamin Banneker saluted the Masons and then crashed off into the undergrowth to the northwest . For two years they battled flies and brambles and mosquitoes, placing the stones with precision, completing their task in 1792. Larger stones are laid at the North, South, East and West corners of the original ten-mile square. A sandstone column was placed precisely at one mile intervals, forty in all, with special markers at the four cardinal points, South first, then West and North and East. I have seen and photographed most of them. Some are well preserved, others are badly beaten, and a few are missing altogether. It was a fun project, and still an incomplete voyage of discovery. On the sides of the stones facing the District of Columbia is inscribed "Jurisdiction of the United States ." On the opposite side of those placed in the commonwealth of Virginia is inscribed " Virginia ." And on those in the state of Maryland , " Maryland ." On the third and fourth sides are carved the year in which the stone was placed, and the magnetic compass reading at that place. The script, on those stones that can still be read, is oddly delicate, Spencerian and out of time. When the quest was new, I was credulous. I did not realize SW 3, is a fake, a replacement, and the position is suspect. But I learned to spot the signature of the stones, the shape of the cages placed around most of them in 1917 by the Daughters of the American Revolution. The rest of the SW line is intact. So is the NW side, except for NW 5, which I have looked for five times. It is described as being "deep in the fenced Decarlia watershed and reservoir" that sprawls downhill from Westmoreland Circle . I'll find it someday. I can't tell you how eerie it is to be in the deep woods, the roar of traffic somewhere off in the greenery, with a deer suddenly bolting out of the undergrowth. North east of there the trail is easy, since the stones have survived precisely because they were on the edge of something, the boundary, not the middle of anything. To the north, the markers are all intact up to the North Stone, which has a certain jaunty lean to it, welcoming the commuters to the District. The first stone from there, headed southeast along the NE leg, is marked by a brass plaque in the doorway of a liquor store. Some back-hoe driver hauled the stone away in construction years ago, but the rest of the stones are very much there, dotted in front yards. A homeless man is living in the cage that has been twisted away from NW 3. I am missing NW 7, which is in the Fort Lincoln Cemetery , someplace. I have no idea why it is so hard to find, but a visit to the cemetery is worth it. The old works of the Civil War fort remain on the hill above the gravestones, and it was the site of the bold Marine sortie against the British heading up the Bladensburg Pike to burn the capital. NW 8 is somewhere around the Aquatic Gardens, near a Black Muslim store-front mosque, and I'll be back, someday. It did not look like a propitious time when I was there last. The East Stone is across the street from some boarded-up townhouses, and provides a vista that connects the physical world with L'Enfant and Jefferson's vision. The roads really do dramatically change direction and march off in linear grandeur to the southwest. The SE Stones are a quest all their own, and would be a worthy journey on this holiday dedicated to Dr. King. But the stones here are in the great pocket of poverty that is DC's Ward 7. The directions to SE 1 place it near a small trash dump. SE 2 is near an apartment complex of dubious standing. SE 3 and 4 are still where they were placed on the eastern side of Eastern Avenue . But from there the trail gets rocky. I would think a party of exploration would be useful, with a couple people to watch the car while the others were scouting. SE 5 would be the closest to the Suitland Federal Complex, where my friend thought he might ride his bike. Unfortunately, it is among the missing. It still exits, legend has it, and was placed under the protection of a Maryland Highway worker and taken to his garage. SE 6 is reportedly near a construction company, but I could not find it. A man was doing business at SE 7, using the protective cage to hang his wares, and he was very suspicious of my presence, and I was a little nervous about bothering him to take a picture. And there it ends. That is when the steam came out of my quest, with the realization that the last few stones were never going to be found, at least not without back-up. SE 8 is, or was, in the police impound lot in DC Village. Like many things in the custody of the District government, it is reportedly lost. But who knows, it might show up again. SE 9 was on the bank of the Potomac , originally placed on the diagonal, one mile from the first stone at Jone's Point. It exists, by report, and I have looked, but it is a dicey thing to park the car alongside the I-95 and plunge down to walk along the swampy riverbank. With the right companions, I will find it. Maybe in the Spring, when it gets a little warmer. Warm enough for discovery again. Copyright 2006 Vic Socotra www.vicsoctra.com |