In which Frederick Douglass gets me into hot water

I got myself over my head in a feature story reporting situation this week.

I thought I was going to write a short feature about the new owner of a historical building--a home where Frederick Douglass once lived on Capitol Hill, just around the corner from us.

I wanted to talk to the new owner about how they were going to handle the historic nature of the purchased property. It would be a follow-up to a story by the Washington Post about the building's sale: I thought I could pitch it to the Post, the Hill Rag, or even just post it on my blog, here.

But what I got was stonewalling from three different sources.

Apparently, someone doesn't want me to write that story . . .

Let me back up a bit.

I wrote in an earlier blog post that there's a plaque outside a house around the corner from us marking a home where Frederick Douglass once lived.

Look, here he is in an old photo, standing outside that house!

Kinda grainy photo, but there he is!

Here I am in front of the house.

Douglass lived here with his family from 1872-1877 where he worked to support Grant's reelection and then later worked for the Freedman's Bank. After being appointed United States Marshal for the District, he moved to Cedar Hill, a bigger home on an acreage in Anacostia.

Cedar Hill in Anacostia is owned by the National Park Service--and visiting it was one of my favorite DC excursions so far: you should definitely go see it if you visit DC! But the Capitol Hill house isn't owned by the National Park Service. It's owned by a nonprofit, the National Association for Home Care and Hospice, which uses the space for a "Caring Hall of Fame" and for gatherings.

The organization's purchasing contract required it to allot a small portion of the building as a public exhibit, which the organization calls the "Frederick Douglass House Museum." There's a small collection of items relevant to Frederick Douglass, including a desk he used and some photos. You have to make an appointment to see it.

The above photo is from when Bruce and I went over to the building to see if we could get a tour of the museum. As we entered, we saw that an event was going on for the nonprofit. We asked at the desk whether we could come back for a tour sometime.

"We're closing," said the person at the desk. "This property has been sold to a developer and we're closing this week."

Well, that surprised me. Can you do that? Sell a historical property to a developer?

I wanted to know more about that: what's the process for selling a historical building? What responsibilities does the new owner have? And plus, I've gotten interested in Frederick Douglass since we've arrived.  That's how I got the idea for a story about what would happen to that historical property in my neighborhood--I'm all about "local" features! So I started investigating.

But no one would talk to me.

The VP of the nonprofit "was in" when I called, but once I told his assistant what I wanted to ask about, he suddenly became "not available."

The real estate agent connected with the property never returned my calls.

The person at the National Parks office at Cedar Hill told me he'd pass my info on to their historian, but then called me back, directing me to the VP of the nonprofit.

The only person I was able to talk with was Christine Healey, the Advisory Neighborhood Commission representative for our ward and neighborhood. She said she wouldn't go on the record, but gave me some useful background and context.

She hadn't known that the building had been sold, but figured everyone was being hush-hush until the developer decided what to do with the property.

What could they do? Probably ask for a zoning change and create more residential units. Row houses go for about $880K to $1 million or more apiece here in Capitol Hill, according to Zillow.

Screen shot of property values in the block where the buildings are located. 

The Frederick Douglass property included 4 row houses and a smattering of buildings in the back (some of which could be converted to residences). So that could be a good investment.

Because it's in a historical district, any kind of modification (or, horrors, a tear-down) would be subject to approval by the city and the Advisory Neighborhood Commission. Most developers want to be on good terms with neighbors.

Neighbors don't like change, that's the main thing, Healey told me. And they worry about a number of things when a developer buys property: will property values be affected? will there be more congestion because of more people living here? will tenants of the new residence (if that's what it becomes) be good tenants: quiet and respectful of this quiet, family-friendly neighborhood?

"But what about the historical aspect of the building," I asked. "Won't people want to have the house somehow preserved as a historical site, open to the public in some way?"

She didn't think so. She thought that probably people would be more worried about whether on-street parking would suddenly become more difficult to find.

On-street parking in this neighborhood is tight. 

Ms. Healey offered to put me on a list of people interested in this issue, so that we can be contacted if any information becomes available. I eagerly accepted.

Maybe I can be a voice for public history here. Certainly it adds something to a neighborhood that there is a historical and public site connected to one of the most important figures in American History.

Frederick Douglass as an older man. I wonder if this photo was taken when he lived on Capitol Hill.

Could a developer possibly be brought to see the importance of maintaining, possibly just as part of the overall development, a public space honoring Douglass's years of living in the home at 316 A St. NE?