A spa manager at the Four Seasons Hotel was preparing the pool and spa for guests when the hotel’s emergency siren started to wail on Aug. 15.
Since the beginning of 2020, residents and students — the main campus of Georgetown University is two blocks away — have awaited the popular bagel spot.
Principal Calvin Hooks smiled broadly late Friday afternoon, Aug. 9, as some 40 parents and children ooh-ed and aah-ed and commented: “Amazing!” Hooks was...
Fallout from the pandemic: a halt on future sales, a permanent closure and no answer as to when the plywood will come down.
Featured along with the Concert Band on Dec. 21 and 22 were the Sea Chanters, Country Current and the Cruisers. There was also a visit from Santa, playing a mean trumpet.
The tragic tale of Georgetowners Viola Drath and wife killer Albrecht Muth will be made into a movie by Christoph Waltz, who will direct and also play the part of Muth. The film, based on a New York Times Magazine article, "The Worst Marriage in Georgetown," will begin production in October, Variety reported. "Voltage Pictures has come aboard to fully finance and produce the picture, which will be sold at Cannes," according to Variety. "The film will be produced by Waltz, Erica Steinberg ('Inglorious Basterds') and Nicolas Chartier. Zev Foreman and Jonathan Deckter will be exec producing for Voltage, alongside M. Janet Hill, who originally optioned the material. The script was written by Pulitzer Prize-winning author and playwright David Auburn ('Proof')." Waltz -- who appears to be perfectly cast for the film -- won Academy Awards for “Inglourious Basterds” and “Django Unchained.” He will make his directorial debut in "The Worst Marriage in Georgetown." He plays the villain in the James Bond movie, “Spectre,” set for a November release. Drath and Muth were known around Georgetown for their dinner parties and moved about in Washington society. In fact, Muth once visited the offices of the Georgetowner Newspaper to purchase tickets for a benefit. A staffer recalled that he was "totally creepy." The following is the sad, you-cannot-make-this-stuff-up story, as previously reported in the Georgetowner. Albrecht Gero Muth was convicted of killing his 91-year-old wife Viola Herms Drath in 2011 in their Q Street home in Georgetown and given a 50-year prison sentence. At the April 30, 2014, sentencing, Judge Russell F. Canan of D.C. Superior Court said he found the evidence against Muth “overwhelming” and scoffed at his hunger strikes in the hospital, where Muth remained during the trial and the sentencing and participated via videoconference. Muth's lawyer Dana Page spoke on his behalf, reading a statement that claimed Muth was innocent and that his wife was killed by Iranian agents. Drath was found dead in the third-floor bathroom of her home on Q Street on Aug. 12, 2011, after being strangled and beaten. At the time, medical examiners determined Drath’s death to be a homicide – and not a result of falling, as Muth first contended. There had been not forced entry into the house. He was arrested a few days later on P Street, after being locked out of the house and wandering around the neighborhood and sleeping in nearby Montrose Park. A veteran journalist and married previously to an Army colonel, Drath married Muth in 1990. The couple was known around town for their dinner parties with a mix of political, diplomatic, military and media VIPs. Drath was 44 years older than Muth. Prosecutors argued that Muth showed a pattern of abuse against his wife and was motivated by money, saying he had no steady job and was not included in Drath’s will. “He was a good little con man," prosecutor Glenn Kirschner told the jury. During trial testimony, Drath’s daughters, Connie and Francesca (from her first marriage), talked about Muth’s money arrangements with his wife and of his emails to them about items he wanted upon her death. Seen around Georgetown in faux military garb, the cigar-smoking Muth was perceived by neighbors and shopkeepers as an oddball. He said that he was a member of the Iraqi Army -- which the Iraqi government denied. Muth went so far as to have arranged a 2010 ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery for Iraqi Liberation Day. He was also known around government and foundation lobbying circles as Count Albi of the EPG (Eminent Persons Group).
After store closures, store openings and a current chemotherapy regime, Anna Fuhrman is still propping and topping — no small feat in the turbulent world of COVID-19 retail.
The Georgetowner asked the candidates for the Ward 2 seat on the District Council: "What impending budget cuts do you favor?" Here are their responses ...
Kiril Jeliazkov has planted 81 pieces of his huge outdoor artwork project — “The Orange Step” — into the grounds of Rose Park and parts of Massachusetts Avenue.
In a communications-entertainment world where access to everything all of the time is a given, change is hardly ever noticed, or given any kind of context. You can probably view “One Day at a Time,” the very successful network television sitcom that starred the delightfully original Bonnie Franklin as a divorced single mom raising two teenaged daughters in the 1970s on YouTube or cable channels airing old sitcoms. You might able to find “Tales of Wells Fargo” and “Iron Horse” and even “Death Valley Days," three western series from the 1950s and '60s, starring cowboy star Dale Robertson on Premium Cable Network’s Encore Series specializing in western fare. Looking at them, you realize that television, like everything else in the world, has changed enormously. In a network and general cable television world of reality shows, old and new shows, those shows appear like relics or spools found in a time capsule from a distant past. Both Franklin and Robertson died last week: Franklin, at 69 of cancer; Robertson, 92, of complications from pneumonia and lung cancer. Franklin was a refreshing star in a network entertainment world that was dominated by cop shows—as now—and the realistically upgraded and topical sitcom world of Norman Lear who threw, like a hand grenade, “All in the Family,” onto network television, which featured Archie Bunker, a working-class paterfamilias played with great outrage by Carroll O’Connor, spewing complete politically incorrect comments and attitudes that he wore like a worn, no-sleeve t-shirt, living with his out-of-work semi-hippie son-in-law Michael, whom Archie called “Meathead,” his wife Edith and daughter Gloria. The show begat other sitcoms, “Maude” and “The Jeffersons,” where bigotry, the life of single mothers and single women and all sorts of social issues made their way into the comedy Franklin, with her brisk red hair and no-nonsense airs, was refreshing, trying to handle her daughters with respect, tart affection and wisdom gained through her own life experiences. With Franklin’s energetic ways, the show seemed to mirror a certain amount of realism, a look at a world experienced by many women (even then the divorce rate hovered around 50 percent) if not most. The show was part of a television world where topicality had invaded a sitcom world once dominated by the more idyllic world of “The Andy Griffith Show,” or, earlier, “Leave it to Beaver” or the abysmal “Beverly Hills Hillbillies.” These days, there are still sitcoms, we can say thankfully, although many of them have more than their fair share of raunchiness. Still, there’s “Modern Family,” the recently departed Tina Fey show—or was it Alec Baldwin's?—“30 Rock,” “The Office,” “Parks and Recreation,” “New Girl” and “The Family Guy” along with “The Simpsons,” which spawned a whole new genre of adult cartoon sitcoms with all the free-flying cultish results you might expect. These are shows imbued with work-place, single life or family life content mixed in with an irreverent and often wiggy spirit, one of which—“Two and a Half Men”-- gave us Charlie Sheen’s personal post-movie star life in high dudgeon. Robertson was a star of the type we don’t have any more. There are still occasional westerns from “Open Range” of a few years back, to “Django Unchained” which is a western which began out west and moved into the pre-Civil War South, but had the spirit of a Sergio Leone "Spaghetti Western." But there are no more western television series, especially of the type which Robertson starred in. During the 1950s and 1960s, television became the landing place du jour for Hollywood personalities who had once been western movie stars or players. Robertson himself, who wanted nothing more in life than to be able to own a ranch and raise horses, insisted he was not an actor. Usually, they were Hollywood western players —such as Hugh O’Brian (“Wyatt Earp”), Richard Boone “Wanted Dead or Alvie,”, or James Arness's “Gunsmoke” or even the debonair, urbane Gene Barry (“Bat Masterson”)—whose career never quite reached the level of stardom or had petered out. Robertson acquitted himself well in his three series and earned more than enough money to buy a ranch and took over the show, “Death Valley Days,” which Ronald Reagan once hosted. Reagan, as a future president, had another career awaiting him. Robertson’s death sparks memories of his films—“The Silver Whip”—and series, enjoyed by people living in a very different America, where the phrase "gun control" might simply mean a description of the way a gunslinger twirled his gun. [gallery ids="101190,143406" nav="thumbs"]