A Brief History of 4600 Connecticut Avenue

A Brief History

Acknowledgements

This history could not have been completed without the gracious assistance of the following individuals, to whom I am deeply grateful:

Lee Abramson Susan Decker Laura Kells Maryanne Kendall Jay and Linda Mathews Benjamin Plotkin Pauline Powell Stewart Robertson

I also received helpful assistance from the staff of the D.C. Archives; the Historical Society of Washington, D.C.; and the Washingtoniana Division of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library.

—John A. de Ferrari

A Brief History

Before 4600

Before the arrival of European settlers, Piscataway Indians lived in our area and had a large soapstone quarry, later called the Rose Hill Quarry, where Albemarle Street crosses Connecticut Avenue. Once the District of Columbia was laid out, the land on which 4600 is built and the surrounding neighborhood became sparsely settled farm lands in “Washington County,” outside of the city proper, which ended at Boundary Street (present-day Florida Avenue). Because our immediate neighborhood is very hilly, it was not well-suited to development and remained rural through the nineteenth century. The closest main road until the end of the nineteenth century was the Georgetown-Rockville Pike (today’s Wisconsin Avenue), which followed the route of an old Indian trail. A key landmark was the Soapstone Valley Creek, which ran through the future site of 4600 as it made its way, twisting and turning, down to Broad Branch in present-day Rock Creek Park.1

1 There’s a great hiking trail alongside the lower portion of the creek, extending from a point at Albemarle Street just east of Connecticut Avenue down to Broad Branch Road in the park. Almost the entire creek above Albemarle and Connecticut is now underground, most of it having been buried through the years as the land above was developed. The source of the creek is near Wisconsin Avenue, and a small portion can still be seen above ground just south of Woodrow Wilson High School at Nebraska Avenue. Presumably, the fact that the creek ran through the 4600 site was

During the Civil War, a circle of over 60 earthen forts was erected around the outskirts of Washington to protect the city from Confederate attack. The line of forts ran very close to our location, with Fort Reno—the largest—within easy walking distance. Equally close was Fort Kearny—its remains are on the estate of the Peruvian Ambassador’s residence on Garrison Street. It is also very possible that Union troops camped on or near the site of 4600. Many came through Washington, especially later in the war, and a known encampment was located just to the south of present-day Albemarle Street, along the Soapstone Valley Creek.

A turning point in neighborhood history came in 1886 when Congressman Francis G. Newlands of Nevada, hatched his plan to have Connecticut Avenue extended from Calvert Street out to the Maryland border, where he would develop a fashionable enclave of high-class residences to be called Chevy Chase. Newlands set up the Chevy Chase Land Company to buy up land along the planned route of the Avenue, including the land where 4600 now stands. Much effort was needed to grade the hilly land, but by 1892 it had been done; not only was the new road laid out, but an electric streetcar was in operation all the way to the Maryland line. Residential development all along Connecticut Avenue soon began.

one reason the site remained undeveloped until a relatively late date. And because the creek continues to run underneath 4600, the building is required to operate sump pumps on a continuous basis to keep the basement from flooding. The sump pumps often can be heard operating in the storage room.

4 Earlier Apartment Buildings in Our Neighborhood

The city established its first zoning regulations for buildings in 1920. From the start, the Connecticut Avenue corridor was designated for medium-density apartment buildings, interspersed at regular intervals with blocks of commercial structures. The zoning decision was a compromise between government planners who wanted commercial development along the entire length of the street, and the Chevy Chase Land Company, which wanted to preserve the residential character of upper Connecticut Avenue.2 Based on the 1920 zoning law, the 4600 block was designated for medium-density residential construction.

The 1920s brought the first surge in apartment house construction. Between 1927 and 1931, six large apartment houses were built in our neighborhood, including the historic Spanish Revival-style Ponce de Leon (1928)—designed with sleeping porches to help residents survive the Washington summer—and the Frontenac (1930)3 in the block just south of us. To our north and east, developer Harry M. Barlove built three apartment buildings in 1927-28, including the so-called Truman House at 4701 Connecticut, the apartment building at 4707 Connecticut just north of it, and Parker House across the street on our side. Two blocks north of that, developer Harry Wardman in 1929 built a set of four distinctive five-story

2 The Chevy Chase Land Company also took steps to preserve other aspects of the character of the neighborhood: according to Benjamin Plotkin, the original deed of trust for the 4600 property barred African-American and Jewish residents. The Supreme Court ruled in 1952 that such covenants were unenforceable. 3 The Frontenac, which had the misfortune to be built as the Depression was beginning, had its share of financial problems. The developer went bankrupt just as the building was nearing completion in January 1931.

5 apartment houses called Davenport Terrace (now known as Connecticut Heights).

Construction slowed markedly during the Depression years of the early 1930s, but picked up later in the decade. Two Art Moderne-style buildings went up on the east side of the avenue—4801 Connecticut Avenue (1938), at Davenport Street; and the Chesapeake (1941), across the street from 4600. By the mid 1950s, the remaining empty lots, such as the 4600 site, were in high demand. Washington by then was suffering from a severe post-war housing shortage, with sometimes long waiting lists for prospective tenants despite numerous apartment houses being constructed. Along the Avenue itself, apartment buildings began to fill in almost all of the remaining available spaces. Apartment houses constructed in our immediate neighborhood in the 1950s include Connecticut House (1957) on the west side of Connecticut at Albemarle Street; Albemarle House (1958), across the street from it and set back on a slope; the Brandywine (1953), a large complex just north of that; and the Essex (1956), two blocks north of 4600 on the west side.

A Luxury Apartment Building is Announced

The project to build 4600 was first announced in 1954, when Ralph Bush, a developer from Norfolk, Virginia, purchased the vacant 91,000-square-foot site4 of the building for $250,000. The Bush Development Corporation said it was going to build a luxury apartment building to equal or surpass the “most

4 For the record, the building has a footprint of 52,387 sq. ft., the Chesapeake Garden is 17,988 sq. ft., and the Brandywine Garden is 20,988 sq. ft., for a total of 91,363 sq. ft. For more on the gardens, see the Grounds and Gardens section below.

6 fashionable rental quarters now available in Washington.”5 Bush hired Milton J. Prassas, an established Washington architect, to design the building. Prassas had experience with large residential developments, having collaborated with Bush on Channel Square, a part of the Southwest urban renewal project. As described by Prassas, 4600 was to be an 8-story apartment house notable for its relatively large number of generously sized two- and three-bedroom apartments, its “high-speed” elevators, and “100 percent” parking spaces for all residents (and even an allowance for those who might own more than one automobile!).

An early sketch of the proposed building.

As with most such large-scale undertakings, the final product differed somewhat from the original plans. Most significantly, 4600 ended up with one additional floor—bringing the total number of units to 270—but with fewer parking spaces. Apparently, negotiations were needed with neighborhood groups who were concerned about the size of the proposed structure. Although a detailed account of the give-and-take that

5 Paul Herron, “$5 Million Luxury Apartment Disclosed” in The Washington Post, Oct. 24, 1954, page R1.

7 must have occurred has not surfaced, it appears that Bush tried to build the largest building he could. The application his company submitted for a building permit in 1955 was for an 11-story edifice. The permit was issued two years later—for the proposed 11-story building—but, of course, the actual structure would have just nine floors.

Construction began in late 1957, a full three years after the building had first been announced. The work, which set Bush Development Corporation back approximately $4 million, was completed in 1958 (not 1948, as the Multiple Listings Service database obstinately claims). Bush got help from the Federal Housing Administration to finance the project. It must have turned out to his liking; he chose to live in the building he owned for almost two years after it was built.6

4600’s Early Days

Applications for tenants were first taken in June 1958. Rents ranged from $110 per month for an efficiency to $270 for a three-bedroom unit. The first tenant was Caroline Mosier Fairbrother, who moved into apartment 113 in October, when construction had scarcely been completed.7 In fact, the building’s concrete corridors were still uncarpeted at the time. By November the building was ready to be shown off. “Fashionable Washington is invited today to look at the highest fashion in apartment living, the model units at the 4600 Connecticut Avenue,” proclaimed the Post.8 “Some of the

6 Bush then sold the building to an arm of the Shannon and Luchs Company in 1960 for about $5 million. See “The State of Real Estate” in The Washington Post, August 6, 1960, page B2. 7 Ms. Fairbrother remained a resident at 4600 until her death in August 1977 at age 78. 8 The Washington Post, November 22, 1958.

8 comforts of home include all electric kitchens, laundry facilities and an outdoor sundeck. Apartment extras are balconies, secretarial service, air conditioning and high speed elevators.” –Elegant living indeed!

In the early days, 4600 had no mailroom; clerks distributed everyone’s mail to their boxes at the front desk. This workload required two people to be on duty at the desk during the day. There were also originally three shifts of doormen providing 24-hour front-door service, as well as a parking attendant, Henry, who would park and retrieve cars for residents and who occupied the booth with the window at the foot of the loading dock stairs.

A major upgrade occurred in 1968, when unit 101, a two- bedroom apartment, was converted into offices and a mailroom. The apartment’s master bedroom became the manager’s office (now the boardroom); the second bedroom was made into a secretary’s office (the current management office); and the living room/dining room area became the mail room, which it remains to this day.

4600 Goes Condo

In December 1972, the building’s owner, Washington Real Estate Investment Trust, sold the property to a joint venture between Presley Development Company—a California developer—and Weaver Brothers, Inc., of Maryland for $5.625 million. Presley and Weaver bought the building with the express intention of converting it into a condominium. Their move came right as the first great wave of condominium construction was underway in Washington and across the country. While laws allowing for the creation of condos had been passed in the early 1960s, developers had initially been

9 hesitant to build condos for fear that the idea of owning individual apartment units was too unusual and that potential buyers might not materialize. They also needed time to work out legal and operational details. But the tide had turned in the early 1970s. The total number of condo units in the Washington area mushroomed from 1,229 in 1971 to more than 44,000 by the end of 1974. Many of these were new buildings; conversion of existing buildings into condos was still very new in 1972. In fact, 4600 was only the second condo conversion to occur in DC. The conversion spree which followed spread fears of substantially reducing the city’s affordable housing stock as well as concerns about the fairness of some developers’ practices. DC would enact a temporary moratorium on such conversions in 1975, but the market would be booming again by the end of the decade.9

Condominium conversions throughout the city caused consternation for existing tenants, especially older tenants who had been in the buildings a long time and for whom it was often difficult to buy an apartment. Prices for units at 4600 ranged from $19,300 to $49,000, and roughly a quarter of them were purchased by existing tenants, who got a 10 percent discount. Lee Abramson recalls that at least a few tenants who were unhappy about the conversion looked into the possibility of a lawsuit to prevent it from happening, although little came of that. One particularly stubborn tenant, Kate McDougall, a retired Senate staffer, managed to continue renting her apartment until as late as 1979, when the unit’s owners finally decided she would have to either buy the place or leave. She refused to cave in. At 85 years old, she died quietly in her sleep in the apartment, with only one month left before her deadline to move out.

9 See Lewis M. Simons, “The Condominium Dilemma” in The Washington Post, Dec. 29, 1980, page A1.

The Beginnings of the Condo Association and the “Secret Ballot” Dispute of 1974-75

When condominium associations were still new and untested, they were the subject of much passion on the part of co-owners who had diverging ideas about who should have what powers and how things should be run. Our demure community was a veritable poster child for this phenomenon, becoming the scene of a heated and protracted feud over the board of directors and how they were elected. Names were called, foul language used, rival citizens groups formed with dueling newsletters stuffed in residents’ boxes, and even a lawsuit filed in D.C. court. Fortunately for all involved, the situation was eventually resolved—or maybe just abandoned out of sheer exhaustion.

It all started after the first board of directors was assembled in early 1974. 4600’s very first annual meeting was held in February of that year at the Shoreham Hotel. The meeting was hosted by Presley Development Company, which paid for rental of the space at the Shoreham as well as for refreshments before and after the meeting. Things would seem to have been off to a good start, but frictions and rivalries were clearly already developing. At that first meeting, only two directors were up for election to the board by the co-owners; the other three had been appointed by Presley. Competition for the two open slots was fierce, with a slate of 14 candidates being fielded. J. Walter Lund and Benjamin M. Plotkin became the first president and secretary/treasurer, respectively, drawing substantially more votes than any of the other candidates. The three board members appointed by Presley were to serve only until the next annual meeting, planned for December, at which time their seats would be filled by co-owners.

11 After that first meeting, dissatisfaction grew among some co- owners that the board, stacked 3 to 2 with Presley Company appointees, was not acting in the best interests of co-owners. A group of about 8 co-owners organized a “Citizens Association of 4600 Connecticut” to try to correct what they saw as indolence on the part of the board and acquiescence in imprudent actions by Presley Company and its partner, Weaver Brothers. Their main beefs involved a plan by the board to have the lobby remodeled (see below), which was allegedly devised with little co-owner input; the institution of a new and very restrictive pet policy in May 1974; and a variety of other complaints about lack of action and poor communications with co-owners.

The lobby redesign that never happened.

The Citizens Association agitated for change and had some successes—it kept the planned remodeling of the lobby from going forward, for example. And it also planned to field a set of candidates for the next board election in December, at which time the three Presley board slots would become

12 available. The Citizens Association’s slate included Dr. Riordan Roett, Ms. Barbara Reese, and Mr. Carlos Garcia.

Strong-willed as this group was, friction was bound to ensue with other equally determined residents. In particular, a group that would organize as 4600 Forum, Inc. fielded its own candidates for the December election, including Paul Lyons, Naomi Boone, Virginia Reith, and Francis Ward. With many candidates running, the election at the co-owners’ meeting in December 1974 was very close. At first, Roett, Garcia and Lyons were declared winners, but Reese objected, and some of the votes were declared invalid. A resolution was passed to have additional ballots cast to determine the members of the new board.

Much trouble ensued over the casting of these extra ballots after the Citizens Association slate won the three open seats. Accusations were made by Lyons that members of the Citizens Association—in particular Barbara Reese—had lobbied individual co-owners to change their votes after having seen how the supposedly secret ballots were cast. In fact, Reese was finally named to the Board in place of Lyons. Lyons, who was also 4600’s ombudsman at the time, led a vocal effort to discredit the newly elected board, and the 4600 Forum group he helped establish even filed suit in DC Court to have the election results nullified and a new election held. While Reese, on the one hand, had a reputation for being very uncompromising, Lyons also was apparently quite an outspoken person. “He loved to pick a fight,” says his former wife, Maryanne Kendall. His 4600 Forum collected enough co-owner signatures to force a special vote to be held on whether to remove Ms. Reese from the board.

13 Jay Mathews, a reporter for the Washington Post and resident of 4600 at the time, wrote an article about the dispute.10 While recounting some of the particulars of the ballot dispute, Mathews’ article also talks about the great friendliness and diversity among co-owners—4600 was a very pleasant place to live. The overall thrust of the article is to raise questions about the potential tyranny of a strong-willed board of directors. A companion article11 recounts more generally the state of condominium governance at the time; because condos were still new, similar struggles were occurring throughout the Washington area.

Despite all the sound and fury, little seems to have come of this grand early dispute in 4600’s history. The drive to remove Ms. Reese from the board failed to garner enough votes. Within a few years, major players, including Reese and the Lyonses, had moved out of 4600. And the lawsuit was eventually dropped because so much time had gone by that a new election was coming up anyway, and the suit had lost its urgency. More broadly speaking, perhaps one could say that co-owners gradually became more comfortable with their positions and with the respective roles of the board and the building’s management. In any event, the community weathered the storm well.

4600’s Pet Policy

Perhaps next in line for the title of biggest controversy facing the 4600 community would be the building’s no-pet policy. 4600 apparently had been a de facto pet-friendly apartment

10 “Baby Carriage at Issue” in The Washington Post, July 31, 1975, p. DC1. 11 Kathy Sawyer, “Democracy in a Condominium” in The Washington Post, July 31, 1975, p. DC1. See also “2nd-Generation Condo Problems Come to the Fore” in The Washington Star, October 4, 1975, p. F1.

14 building prior to turning condo, with many dogs and cats in residence. Soon after the building turned condo, a decision was made by the new board of directors to prohibit new pets beginning in April 1974. A survey of co-owners was then conducted that found that “1/3 favor pets, 1/3 oppose pets, and 1/3 are opposed but do not feel it right to force those who presently have pets to dispose of them.” Accordingly, the board reaffirmed its decision to ban all new pets but explicitly allowed pets that had been in the building prior to April 1, 1974. Legend has it that some of those pets are still around today…

Despite the board’s logic that co-owners were opposed to pets by a 2 to 1 margin, there was resentment about the board’s get- tough attitude about the policy. A board newsletter from October 1974 carried on at some length about how refuse from pets was showing up in inappropriate places (such as stairwells), which the board thought disgraceful.12 It was from this time forward that the no-pet policy seems to have been taken seriously, and the board began to undertake enforcement actions against unregistered pet owners.

While the policy has never changed, it has been the subject of debate throughout the years, and opinions about changing it have often been divided. In March 1989, a pet survey was sent out to co-owners asking if they would support a limited pet policy allowing “[o]ne neutered cat per unit, two small birds per unit, fish and other common unobtrusive animals” but prohibiting dogs or exotic pets. Co-owner responses were almost evenly divided: 54 out of 109 were in favor of the proposal while 51 were opposed, and 4 said they didn’t care. The board likewise was nearly split, failing to adopt the

12 4600 Connecticut Boardletter, No. 7, October 7, 1974.

15 proposed rule change by a vote of 2 in favor, 2 opposed, and one abstention. The issue was then put to a vote at the annual meeting in December 1989 and was defeated by another close vote—46 percent in favor and 53 percent opposed.

By 2002 interest had again arisen in considering whether to allow cats and other small animals but not dogs. In September 2002,13 board president Daria Steigman characterized 4600’s approach to pets as a “don’t ask, don’t tell” philosophy and noted that “there are a number of people in this building who have cats and other small, house-bound pets.” Steigman solicited input from co-owners on whether to revise the pet policy or leave it as it was. It is unclear what the specific results of this informal survey were, but no policy change ensued.

Most recently, in 2004, more consideration was given to changing the pet rule after the issue was raised at the 2003 annual meeting. A “special task force” of approximately 35 residents was convened in April of that year to advise the board’s president, Stewart Robertson, on possible changes to the rule. Later that year,14 Robertson reported that from “survey results a few years ago” (the 2002 survey) as well as response from the task force, he estimated that “sizable minorities” both supported and opposed changes to the pet policy. He asked co-owners to contact him in writing if they thought the pet rule should be changed. At the 2004 annual meeting a lively discussion ensued—again from both pet supporters and pet opponents. Robertson reported that from all the sources he had at his disposal—the 2002 survey, comments directly to him, as well as comments to board secretary Jessica

13 Correspondence from Daria H. Steigman to Fellow Co-owners, September 17, 2002. 14 4600 Update, Summer 2004, p. 1.

16 Frohman—a total of 60 co-owners (24 percent) favored pets while 50 (20 percent) opposed pets. While these results indicated a slight trend in favor of allowing small pets, more than half of co-owners had not registered any opinion on the matter. Thus once again, no action was taken to change the rule.

While some co-owners have wished to be able to resolve the pet issue “once and for all,’ the history of 4600 shows that it remains one of the subjects that we clearly do not all agree upon. The pet rule is a house rule, and under the condominium’s by-laws, it can be changed at any time at the discretion of the board. Alternately, a pet rule could be incorporated into the by-laws themselves; however, doing so would require a favorable vote by two-thirds of co-owners. It seems likely to be hard to find that kind of clear majority opinion on either side of this contentious issue.

4600 Goes to Hollywood

Unassuming, mild-mannered 4600 was used as a backdrop for several scenes in a 1981 Hollywood movie called The Amateur, about a CIA computer analyst out to seek revenge against terrorists who have killed his girlfriend. The analyst, played by John Savage, resides at 4600. The movie, which also stars Christopher Plummer, has two scenes of the exterior of the building; in one Savage steps briskly out the front door to his car parked handily (and in violation of the rules!) in one of the visitor spaces. In the other, he arrives at night and is greeted with the front door held open by 4600’s uniformed doorman. There are also several scenes inside the analyst’s apartment; most of these were done on a set, but a few seconds’ worth were taken in apartment 832, then owned by Ed and Iris Austin. According to the film’s production

17 managers, they found 4600 to be “very attractive; very Washington,”15 and thus they decided to use it as the CIA analyst’s home. The movie, available on DVD, is no masterpiece, but Hollywood has certainly produced far worse.

The idea of an important intelligence analyst living at 4600 was certainly fitting; one famous analyst did in fact live at 4600—Meredith Gardner, who cracked several key Soviet spy messages after World War II. As an analyst at the Army Signal Intelligence Service in 1946, Gardner made breakthroughs in decrypting several messages that had been sent from Soviet diplomatic missions in the U.S. to Moscow. His work revealed the identities of several infamous spies, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg as well as Klaus Fuchs, the German-born scientist who stole information about the atomic bomb. According to the Washington Post, “[w]ithin the intelligence community, Mr. Gardner was said to have been a living legend, and his work in penetrating Soviet codes is widely considered one of the great U.S. counterintelligence coups of the last half-century.”16 And yet, he lived modestly and quietly in his second-floor apartment at 4600. An extraordinary language expert, he enjoyed solving the daily crossword puzzle from the Times of London, said to be the most difficult in the world. His code-breaking achievements went unknown to the public through much of his time here; the National Security Agency did not make public what he had done until 1996. He died in 2002.

15 4600 Community Newsletter, Vol. 4, No. 4, April 1981. 16 Bart Barnes, “Meredith Knox Gardner, Army Code Breaker, Dies” in The Washington Post, Aug. 15, 2002, page B06.

18 Building Updates through the Years

The various changes, replacements, upgrades, and enhancements that have been made to 4600 over its 50-year history are of course far too numerous (and certainly too tedious) to mention comprehensively. Many are undocumented anyway. However, here are a few of the major projects:

Lobby redecoration. The lobby has gone through a number of reincarnations to reflect the tastes of co- owners as well as the fashions of the day. As with all such things, what looks elegant at one point often ends up appearing unattractive after many years in place. Few of us today would choose pink and black as the colors for the carpeting in the lobby, but such a carpet is said to have once been there.

Condo association newsletters show that the first lobby redecoration project began in 1978 and was completed in early 1979. The original scope included painting the ceiling and installing new drapes, valances, and wall coverings, although additional work was done as well. An interior decorator was hired and instructed to use the large chandelier then dominating the lobby to set the tone for the lobby’s planned look. Apparently, most people were pleased with the end result—especially with “the arrangements of furniture and pictures.”17

Lobby redecoration was proposed again in 1989, to include wallpaper replacement, purchase of new sheers, and painting of the columns and ceiling—much the same scope as had been envisioned for the previous

17 4600 Community Newsletter, Vol. 2, No. 4, April 1979.

19 project. The Decorating Committee—now a permanent fixture at 4600—was first established in 1989 when this project was proposed. The planned work was completed in early June 1990. “It’s been a real morale booster for co-owners and tenants,” said then-resident- manager Doris Delinski. “I’ve heard nothing but praise and compliments.”18 The chosen scheme this time involved a “neutral, classic” beige background, intended to allow for flexibility in the choice of furniture and carpeting, a hoped-for “next phase” of the renovation. In addition, sheers were installed rather than drapes on the front windows, greatly brightening the lobby. It is unclear whether the second phase of the project was ever completed.

In 2000, another lobby redecoration effort got underway, this time much more substantial. A contract was signed with designers Camille Saum and Demir Hamami to develop a new design for the hallways on each floor, the lobby, the mail room, the management office, and the board room. The board approved a substantial budget of $400,000 for the project. The designers came up with our current lobby design, which has a distinctly modern look that admirably reflects the building’s 1950s heritage. The lobby itself had previously seemed somewhat cluttered with desks, tables, couches, and a large chandelier. It was replaced with a much cleaner design, with blond wood paneling on the south wall that was echoed with similar paneling in the elevators. The central column in the lobby was tiled, and glass block was used around the front desk. New carpeting was also installed in the lobby and

18 4600 Community Newsletter, Vol. 13, No. 7, July 1990.

20 hallways. Renovation of the mailroom in a similar vein was completed in 2005.

While this latest renovation was generally met with approval, the carpeting turned out to be a problem; it wore badly. In 2006, planning efforts began for another redecoration, primarily driven by the poor condition of the carpet. The board decided once again to prepare an overall design first to ensure that decisions on the carpeting would be consistent with plans for painting and other decorations.

Switchboard. The building was originally equipped with a central switchboard at the front desk, with desk staff providing secretarial service. The staff could take messages when no one was home, and a light on the telephone in your unit would indicate that a message was waiting. This was an important feature in the days before personal answering machines were available. The system was also used to announce visitors. However, by the 1980s, the need for switchboard arrangements like ours had dramatically decreased. A resident proposed taking it out in 1985 to free up staff at the front desk for other more pressing needs, but 4600 was not yet ready to let go. In 1989 AT&T warned that it could not maintain the system much longer, and 4600 took over the switchboard and got a new independent contractor to maintain it. In 1994 residents were surveyed as to their use of the switchboard, which was declining. However, the switchboard was not removed until November 1999, by which time only four co-owners were still using it as an answering system. The secretarial phone system was then disconnected in March 2000.

At the switchboard in 1990.

Heating and air conditioning system. The central heating and air conditioning system in our building was state-of-the-art in 1957, and the same type can be found in many other apartment buildings of that era. It is an efficient system that has served us well, but, naturally, there have been upgrades and replacements in its 50- year history.

An early problem facing the condominium in 1975 was the poor condition of the air conditioning system, which had not been properly maintained for years. The system broke down twice in June and July, and the second time necessitated a major overhaul of the system, keeping it off line for several weeks during the record-hot month of August. People rushed to buy fans, quarreled over who would get the few portable air conditioning units made available for rental, and

22 installed temporary units in their windows. Some even checked into motels to get away from the heat. Beginning the following year, 4600 undertook a variety of maintenance work on the water lines to the chiller as well as overhauling the cooling tower on the roof— work which hadn’t been done for many years, likely contributing to the breakdown. The preventive maintenance paid off, and a new chiller was not needed until 1984. At that time our current back-up chiller, manufactured by Carrier, was installed. This chiller was moved to back-up service in 1994, when a new, more energy-efficient Dunham & Busch chiller was installed by Pepco, which reimbursed 4600 for most of its cost. In 2007, the Board was considering proposals for replacing the back-up chiller and moving the Dunham & Busch chiller to backup service. As for the rooftop cooling tower, after extensive refurbishment that kept it going for many years, the original tower was finally replaced in 1990. That unit was in turn replaced in 2007 with a new, again-more-energy- efficient tower.

On the heating side, a major project to replace the building’s original boilers was initiated beginning in 2003. The two original boilers had to be cut up and pulled out of their basement resting place, a massive undertaking, and replaced with four new smaller boilers. When work began in 2004, complications soon arose. Opening floor panels in the garage to remove the old boilers revealed decay in the concrete floor, a result of years of salt being tracked into the garage during the winter months. Extensive, noisy, dusty concrete repairs were then required. Replacing the boilers themselves took the better part of a year.

Sam Ferguson, maintenance engineer at 4600 since 1979, works in the boiler room in 1990.

In individual apartments, the convectors—the units in each room that blow warm air in the winter and cool air in the summer—have had a long history of causing headaches for co-owners. The small drainage pipes leading out of the units tended to clog, causing the units to leak and create damage to floors and ceilings of apartments below them. If the convectors were not on, or were on when the windows were open in the summer, condensation would occur, again causing water damage. In recent years, after several key enhancements were made to the overall system, problems have tended to decrease. First, the pipes running through the walls, called risers, were replaced throughout the building in a multi-year project in the early 1990s. Although the installation would create havoc—walls had to be torn into to access the pipes—

24 the replacement pipes were better insulated and have caused fewer problems with condensation. Second, metal drainage pans in all the convectors were replaced in 1995 with plastic ones of a better design, leading to fewer clogs.19 However, after almost 50 years, most of the convectors in the building are still the ones originally installed. Consideration has been given through the years to getting them replaced, but the prohibitive cost has kept this from happening on a large scale. A notice seeking co-owners interested in replacing convectors appeared in the 4600 newsletter in 1979, and a formal survey of co-owner interest was first sent out in 1984. Some 53 co-owners were interested at the time, although there is no record of how many actually replaced their units. Another survey was circulated in 2006; and about the same number of co-owners were interested this time as well (the same ones??). Interested co-owners were provided references of companies that do replacements.

Oil tank replacement. In January 1990, the nearby Wilshire Park Condominium (3701 Connecticut Avenue) experienced a major disaster when their oil tank leaked several thousand gallons of heavy fuel oil into Rock Creek Park as well as into a Pepco duct under Connecticut Avenue. Great expense and effort were needed to clean up the mess, with the National Park Service, the Environmental Protection Agency, the DC government, and many lawyers involved. The 4600 Board understandably grew worried about our

19 A minor change was made at that time to the association’s by-laws, giving it control of the pans, so that regular maintenance could be performed without co-owners having to take the initiative—this helped cut down on maintenance problems.

25 own tank, which was original to the building and thus of similar vintage to the Wilshire Park’s tank. A decision was made to replace the old tank. The original tank held 20,000 gallons and was designed to provide continuous heating during the winter. The building had converted to gas heat in the late 1970s and thus only needed the oil tank as a reserve unit for peak times when gas might be cut off. Thus a smaller (10,000 gallon) replacement tank was procured.

The tank’s location underneath the driveway at the entrance to the garage meant that replacing it required closing off the garage. The replacement project was supposed to take two weeks in November but ended up dragging on for many months, as the job turned out to be far more complicated than anticipated. Apparently, the contractor hadn’t realized that the concrete deck of the driveway served as a structural support for the alley’s retaining wall, and thus extensive additional work was needed to ensure the retaining wall and the alley were secure. All sorts of disruptions to building deliveries, trash removal, and parking ensued. The original contractor was terminated, legal action initiated, and a new contractor hired. A report on the project in the January 1991 newsletter summed it up as the “Nightmare on Brandywine Street.” Despite all the problems, the project was finally successfully completed in the spring of 1991.

However, as with all such endeavors, the financial ramifications continued long after the physical work was complete. The negligence of the original contractor cost us $222,000, depleting the association’s reserve funds and resulting in calls for a special assessment to

26 replenish association reserves. This move led to the unusual situation of the proposed budget for 1992 being rejected by co-owners, many of whom did not want to pay the special assessment. The association continued through 1992 without an approved budget (much as the federal government has gotten used to doing more recently), and the dilemma was finally resolved when 4600 won its legal case against its insurance company, which repaid a significant amount of the oil tank costs, forestalling the need for the special assessment.

Alley disruption in November 1990.

Window replacement. By the 1990s, the single-pane, metal-frame windows originally installed in the building posed many problems. They offered very little insulation, contributing to high energy costs. Further, their frames had corroded, glass frequently separated, many leaked during rainstorms, and they could be very

27 difficult or impossible to close completely. A survey in 1994 found many residents reporting problems such as these, and co-owners voted later that year to replace the windows. A windows committee was formed that did extensive research, looking at other buildings in the area and considering a range of replacement options. Due to the large cost of the replacement, a special assessment was required—one of the very few times one has ever been needed at 4600—and assessment funds were collected over several years. After consideration of several alternatives, the board chose an anodized aluminum, double-pane window that blends in well with the building’s architecture and is easy to maintain. The windows throughout the entire building were replaced in the spring of 1999. At the same time, a separate contractor replaced all the exterior window sills and did other restoration work on the building’s exterior masonry.

Cable television. While cable television became widespread in the 1980s, it was slow to be established in the District. At the annual meeting in December 1988, several co-owners expressed an interest in bringing cable TV to 4600, and the board set up an ad hoc committee to look into the matter. By 1990, the board was negotiating with DC Cablevision on installing cable in the building. Negotiations and legal considerations took considerable time, as the board was leery of a bad installation that might cause serious damage and disruption, as had occurred in other buildings. An agreement was finally reached in early 1992, the building was wired up, and DC Cablevision set up a special table in the mail room for residents to sign up for service. And in 1999, the board signed a

28 contract with Starpower to configure the building for its competing cable/telephone/Internet service to provide an alternative to DC Cablevision. Since that time, DC Cablevision has been absorbed by Comcast, and Starpower has become RCN, but the choices for co-owners remain essentially the same. Of course, cable is not the only option. Not only does Verizon offer a competing service over telephone land lines, but 4600 also continues to provide broadcast television service from the master antenna on the roof. The association’s by-laws require that a master antenna system be maintained for the building.

Grounds and Gardens. 4600 is lucky to have very attractively landscaped grounds, including garden areas in the front and our open grounds in back. The grounds in back of the building, originally zoned as lots for freestanding houses, are to remain in perpetuity as garden space. As a concession to neighbors who were concerned about the construction of such a large building on what had been an empty lot, Bush Development Company agreed to maintain this green space as a buffer between the building and the houses to the west.20 It is not known what sort of landscaping was in place in the early years of 4600. However, as part of the condominium conversion arrangement with Presley Development Corporation, a rose garden was planted in the rear garden area of the building in about 1972, although upkeep of the roses proved difficult over time as other plantings shaded the roses out.

20 Many residents have wondered whether a swimming pool or perhaps a tennis court could be installed in the back garden area. The short answer is that it would be extremely difficult to obtain the necessary zoning variance to do so.

A gardening committee was first established at 4600 around 1976, and by 1980 it was working on a five- year plan to improve the plantings around the building. Among other things, the committee worked to have the D.C. government replace trees lost along Brandywine, Chesapeake and Connecticut Avenue.21 In 1984 the entire stretch of open space along Chesapeake Street was re-graded due to erosion around the base of the building. Then in 1985 the building received an honorary award for “special efforts toward improving the environment in our city” from the Mayor’s Committee for Neighborhood Beautification. The hard work at grounds beautification had been recognized! A major enhancement to the gardens was the planting of 12 dogwood trees, a White House pear tree, and a Japanese maple tree in 1989, all donated in memory of co-owners Joel and Leona Tall. In 1986, a diseased privet hedge along Brandywine Street was replaced with the low wrought-iron fence that is there now. This attractive arrangement was later extended on that side of the building, and a matching fence was installed along the Chesapeake Street side in 1995.

Security. Building security at 4600 has naturally changed quite a bit over the years. When the building first opened, the outer doors were not locked, and they remained open to everyone for many years, although three surveillance cameras were in place by the time 4600 went condo. Security at the main entrance was provided by the presence of a doorman 24 hours a day; however, as the doormen’s hours were reduced, the

21 The grounds master plan was completed in 1984 and updated in 1994.

30 door needed to be locked. It was first locked “on an experimental basis...in the winter months” beginning in late 1975, and the Brandywine and Chesapeake entrances were also first locked at this time on a permanent basis. Nevertheless, security concerns grew after a series of apartment break-ins in early 1976. The board then urged residents to install deadbolts on all apartment entrances and to be vigilant about who entered the building. The garage was identified as a particular vulnerability, and efforts were made to ensure that the garage door was kept closed, although an incident occurred in October 1978 in which 16 cars were burglarized. By March 1982, after a spate of car battery thefts, a 24-hour guard was temporarily put on duty in the garage until the frequency of the garage door remote controls could be changed. The board urged co-owners to install car alarms. Security concerns arose again in 1983, when assailants followed a resident into the building and stole her purse at her doorstep. A volunteer neighborhood watch program was started up in response. Residents were repeatedly urged not to let strangers into the building and to make sure that front desk staff and the doorman knew them. “The doorman is our first line of security, and it is important that he knows who lives in the building,” proclaimed a notice to co-owners in February 1986.

By 1987, the doorman was only working afternoons, Wednesday through Sunday. All other times residents entered the front door using their keys. The date at which the doorman was finally dropped altogether has not been recorded, but it seems to have been in 1988 or 1989. Concerns about security continued, and in May 1989, the DC police visited 4600 (as they have done

31 numerous times before and since), did an inspection, and offered a video presentation and lecture to co- owners on enhancing security. Among other suggestions, such as improved lighting, the police urged residents to etch their social security numbers onto valuable property. Awareness of the problem of identity theft was, of course, still many years away. In fact, the board authorized the purchase of an etching tool to lend out to residents to assist them in inscribing their social security numbers on all their valuable property.

The current keyless entry system was installed in 1994. The key fob system allows the association to control access better than the previous keyed system, because lost fobs can be deactivated, eliminating their potential to compromise building security. In 2006, after several mezuzahs were stolen from the doorframes of residents, concerns were raised once again about security, and the police once again made an assessment of the building. In 2007, the board voted to acquire an upgraded security system with additional cameras.

Metro and Other Development in Our Neighborhood

The subway was on the drawing boards for a long time before it came to our neighborhood, and at one point consideration was given to running it very close to 4600. Concerns by local residents left it an open question which route the subway would take to cross from Connecticut Avenue over to Wisconsin Avenue. By 1974, consideration was being given to having it cross under 4600 and run along Chesapeake Street immediately to our north. The association expressed its opposition to the Metro board, and a more southern route

32 (along Albemarle Street) was eventually chosen. After years of construction, the Van Ness metro station opened on December 6, 1981. The coming of Metro to the neighborhood was not only a welcome amenity for residents of 4600, it also contributed to rising property values.

The new subway station provided easy access to Van Ness Centre, which had opened in 1967 and which originally included an enclosed mini-mall on its second floor. The mall, which included a small book store, clothing shops, and a Scan furniture store, was part of a new wave of indoor malls just getting started and was touted as an “air-conditioned street” when it was first constructed. Nevertheless, despite the eventual arrival of Metro, the enclosed mall found it could not attract enough customers, and it closed in 1983 and was converted to office space. That same year, the Van Ness Station office building went up directly across the street, with commercial space opening on to the sidewalk rather than being enclosed.

A block to the north of the Metro, the Van Ness Square shopping center has had a much longer history. It was originally built in 1938 as the Chevy Chase Ice Palace, with retail shops at street level, an ice skating rink above, and a bowling alley below. While popular in the 1940s, the ice skating rink was gone by the time 4600 was built, and in its place WMAL-TV had its studio, with a large flashing neon sign that proclaimed “7…7…7…Good Looking.” The building was renovated into its current configuration in the 1980s.

A number of businesses have come and gone from the commercial strip running between Van Ness and Albemarle. A squat Hot Shoppes restaurant, built in 1930, once stood where the red-brick National Bank of Washington building (now

33 owned by the University of the District of Columbia) currently stands. Just across Yuma street to the north, where the Days Inn now rises up, the Moore-Day Lincoln Mercury dealership had its sprawling lot and showroom. Their main competition, down the street on the opposite side, was Flood Pontiac, at Van Ness Street, which opened in the 1930s and remained there until 1980. A modernist black office building is now located on this site.

The neighborhood also had its share of fashionable clothing stores, including Franklin Simon, near where the Metro station entrance is now on the west side of the avenue, and a strip of stores just south of Albemarle on the east side that included Hahn Shoes, Peck & Peck, and Frank R. Jelleff, Inc. Pauline Powell, a long-time 4600 resident, recalls Jelleff’s as a very pleasant store to shop at, with friendly and attentive staff.

Directly across the street from us for many years was a vacant lot, providing those on the east side of the building an expansive view of the distinctive modernist Capitol Memorial Seventh-Day Adventist Church (1962) and playground in the distance. That lot was finally filled in by the Saratoga apartment house in 1989. The stately red-brick building, designed by prominent Washington architect David M. Schwarz, has generally been admired by architectural critics.

The construction of the Saratoga left no remaining lots in the immediate neighborhood. The only other nearby apartment buildings to go up since the 1950s were the oddly-colored Clarence House (1964) at 4530 Connecticut Avenue; the twin Connecticut Heights structures (1975) several blocks to the north of us; the Hastings, at Albemarle Street, built in the early 1980s; and the Park Connecticut (2000), a high-end apartment building on the east side of the avenue near the Metro station.

View of the Saratoga under construction in 1988, taken from a 9th floor apartment (courtesy of Pauline Powell).

Farther to the north of 4600, the Politics & Prose bookstore first opened in smaller quarters in 1984. For a time there was an annex for used books—“Second-Hand Prose”—directly across the street. The tiny independent bookstore would not have seemed a good bet to take such firm root in the community, but it has prospered to the point that real estate ads for 4600 now routinely mention proximity to Politics & Prose as a noteworthy amenity.22

22 For more on the history of our neighborhood, see Margery L. Elfin, Paul K. Williams, and the Forest Hills Neighborhood Alliance, Images of America: Forest Hills (Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2006).

35 Anecdotes and Incidents

Maryanne Kendall recalls the sense of celebration and camaraderie among the residents who took to the rooftop deck on July 4, 1976, to watch the Bicentennial fireworks display. She also notes that families like hers that had small children tended to band together and support each other—a great aspect of our community that continues to this day.

On a sadder note, Maryanne also recalls the day in April 1976 when Michael Lee, a quiet and gentle man of 50 years, committed suicide by jumping off the roof of 4600. Lee, a 4600 resident, had apparently been distraught after losing his job as an airline clerk.

In times of trouble, people tend to band together, and 4600’s residents are no exception. Laura Kells recalls an incident in March 1994, when an explosion in the electrical room of the Brandywine Apartments, across the street from us, started a serious fire that sent residents of that building out into the streets. At the time, 4600 literally opened its doors to help out neighbors who were in need. Some Brandywine residents even spent the night sleeping in the lobby of 4600.

In 1996, an unusually severe blizzard buried Washington in almost two feet of snow. Traffic was paralyzed, and even major thoroughfares like Connecticut Avenue became sidewalks at best. Pauline Powell recorded the scene from her 9th floor window (see next page).

Connecticut Avenue in front of 4600 during the blizzard of 1996 (courtesy of Pauline Powell).

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As 4600 approaches its 50th anniversary, it remains a vibrant part of its neighborhood, home to many families with diverse backgrounds, including many long-time residents as well as enthusiastic newcomers. While occasionally the community may get intensely embroiled in one controversial development or another, the lasting theme has been the pleasure and comfort of living in a distinctive, well-maintained building in one of the finest neighborhoods in the nation’s capital.