Town Topics

Donna Evers •

As you leave the Dupont Circle Metro station’s north exit, you will see words carved into the granite walls — lines from a poem by Walt Whitman, called “The Wound Dresser.” Since it’s hard to get the whole inscription when you are riding the escalator, here it is:

Thus in silence in dreams’ projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals;
The hurt and the wounded I pacify with soothing hand;
I sit by the restless all the dark night — some are so young,
Some suffer so much — I recall the experience sweet and sad.

This was a subject Walt Whitman knew a lot about, since he served as a volunteer nurse during the Civil War. Already known as a journalist and poet, he first got involved after the bloody Battle of Fredericksburg in 1862, where he went to take care of his brother who had been wounded in battle. There he met another impressive volunteer nurse, Clara Barton, with whom he would cross paths again in Washington. When Whitman arrived in the District to help out as a medical volunteer, the city’s public buildings were turned into crowded way stations for wounded soldiers. There were not enough doctors, and no formal nursing profession, so the military had to rely on recruits and volunteers. Even with that, doctors could not deal with the types of wounds inflicted by the advanced bullets and weapons of the war. The quickest solution to treat an infected limb — and save the soldier’s life — was to amputate. Meanwhile, the wounded were crowded into any shelters available, waiting for the meager medical help to arrive.

One of the most haunting passages in Whitman’s journal about his experiences during the war was his account of the makeshift hospital at the Old Patent Office in Washington. This building, recently restored to its original grandeur and serving as the National Portrait Gallery and Museum of American Art, made for a bizarre hospital ward. The maze of long narrow galleries was originally created to hold glass display cases, which held wood and metal models of inventions submitted for patents. Wounded soldiers, sometimes as many as 800, were laid on cots arranged alongside the glass cases, creating a path so inspectors and inventors could still get through the maze to view and judge the models, stepping over the soldiers as they moved along. This was one of many hospitals where Whitman volunteered during the war, bringing food, paper and pens for the men and sometimes just staying on so a wounded soldier would not have to die alone.

Out of these terrible experiences came some good. The war encouraged many advances in medical science. Volunteer nurse Clara Barton went on to found the American Red Cross, an organization that we rely in times of national emergencies and disasters. Meanwhile, Walt Whitman, who continued to write poetry, supported himself with a job at the Department of the Interior. Ironically, when Secretary of the Interior James Harlan discovered that Whitman was the author of “Leaves of Grass,” he fired him, citing the poems as “damaging to the morals of men.” By that time, though, Whitman was revered as a poet and supporters rallied to his cause, soon securing him another government job.
Whitman’s war experiences earned him the title “the good gray poet,” and his poems about the Civil War are forever burned into our collective memory. There are many, among them “O Captain! My Captain!”, “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” and, of course, “The Wound Dresser.” And while his words carved on the subway’s wall describe the horrors of war, they also tell about human compassion, which will always be our saving grace.
[gallery ids="99165,102989,102992" nav="thumbs"]

John Blee •

The greatest antiques in Georgetown are the amazing townhouses and homes that climb the hill. A New Yorker once said to me that Georgetown is more beautiful than Greenwich Village, and indeed it is. The caretaking of Georgetown’s homes that are mostly built in the 18th, 19th, and early 20th centuries is best left to architects who respect the building, and without violating them, give them new life. Christian Zapatka, winner of the Rome Prize, is the architect today who makes the most out of re-inventing the Georgetown townhouse.

One of Zapatka’s newest re-inventions is for sale on Q and 30th Streets. This is a part of Cooke’s Row, made up of four pairs of semi-detached houses built in 1868.

Cooke’s Row has Italianate and Second Empire features, including mansard roofs. D.C.’s first governor, Henry D. Cooke, commissioned these houses. Cooke had been appointed by President Grant and belonged to the Republican political machine during the post-Civil War era.

This house had been neglected for a good while and was in need of drastic repair. What is interesting is what Zapatka left intact and what he created out of the traditional maze of bedrooms and few bathrooms. The single most amazing thing about the interior is the circular staircase that goes all the way to the third floor. It has been reinforced using its original balustrade, but with a newly invented round skylight at the top. Some of the original flooring has been retained and doors, including pocket doors, have been refinished and reused. All windows were removed and reinstalled, faking some of the original glazing when pieces were missing. An unusual feature is the slate fireplaces that were found under several layers of paint. They are polished to a dark luster.

With Zapatka in charge of the renovation everything flows; the traditional features ebb into the modern. There is never a disjunction. Because Zapatka works closely with contractors on site, he adjusts the design details on the spot. Therefore they attain certain perfection. He also employs one of the rarest of artisans: a great plasterer. Bathrooms and the kitchen are modern, created with a mastery of refined understatement.

Studying architecture with Michael Graves at Princeton and later working for him formed Zapatka’s vision. Zapatka says that Graves frequently referred to a building as a piece of furniture, or furniture as a building. Recently he attended a symposium where Graves spoke on the antiques in his house. Perhaps this is why Christian Zapatka can cull the best of an old house, at the same time renewing it.

GEORGETOWN’S ANTIQUES:

Christian Zapatka: Reinventing the Georgetown Townhouse
Frank Randolph: Interior Designer Extraordinaire
John Rosselli: Georgetown’s Antique Aficionado
Marston Luce: In Search of Elegance
Scandinavian Antiques & Living: International Accents
Susquehanna Antique Company: Redefining Tradition
Sixteen Fifty Nine: A Mid-Century Renaissance

John Blee •

Walking into Frank Randolph’s house makes you aware of what a great interior designer can do. Randolph lives in a house once occupied by Secretary of State Henry Kissinger. What he managed to do with it (not to it) is to create marvelous spaces with impeccably designed interiors. This is the hallmark of his work. All is classical, spare without being minimal and luminous.

Frank Randolph’s living room is one of the most beautiful spaces in Georgetown. It is high ceilinged, and during remodeling Randolph dropped the windows to the floor, creating real French windows. They look out onto a lovely garden below. Graced by arches, the living room contains some of the furniture Randolph has designed himself as well as a pair of 18th-century painted French screens. Small porcelain Chinese bowls and other objects are placed on tables and the mantle. He describes them all as inexpensive pieces. Randolph likes to change the arrangement every few months.

A real Washingtonian who grew up near Georgetown and attended Western High (now Duke Ellington), Randolph is the rarest of decorators, a self-taught man. The antiques that Randolph works with are mostly Swedish and Danish pieces from the 18th and 19th century. “People want to walk into a house with less of the darkness associated with antiques,” Randolph says. “They want a home to have lightness and happiness.” In his own home you can see he practices and lives with what he preaches.

“Clients don’t come to me for a strictly contemporary or modern look,” he says. “My passions are evenly divided. As an interior designer one must include things that are practical but still wonderful and beautiful. You cannot sell 19th-century chairs anymore because they break.” Randolph’s own dining room chairs are modeled on antique pieces, but in light wood and are extremely sturdy. He says that if you cannot find a piece, you can often have it reproduced.

Instinctively generous, Randolph even has a few good words to say about Martha Stewart: “I admire her way of getting the general public involved in presentation of food and of things you have in your home.”

It is rare for an architect to speak of lessons learned from a decorator. However, Georgetown architect Christian Zapatka speaks of learning from Frank Randolph and how sometimes covering a window rather than merely exposing it can create more. It is a lesson Zapatka is carrying out in his own newly designed home.

“Making people happy is rewarding,” Randolph says. “But you have to get the architecture right. Thomas Jefferson was the first American interior designer, he went to bed thinking about it and he woke up and rearranged the furniture!”

GEORGETOWN’S ANTIQUES:

Christian Zapatka: Reinventing the Georgetown Townhouse
Frank Randolph: Interior Designer Extraordinaire
John Rosselli: Georgetown’s Antique Aficionado
Marston Luce: In Search of Elegance
Scandinavian Antiques & Living: International Accents
Susquehanna Antique Company: Redefining Tradition
Sixteen Fifty Nine: A Mid-Century Renaissance

Robert Sacheli •

The lure of history and architecture has led Marston Luce into some less-than-attractive places — with some beautiful results.

In the early 1980s, he would “prowl D.C. in areas where buildings were being torn down” and he vividly recalls the rats that often scurried around as he was on the lookout for the decorative brickwork and architectural ornaments that his excursions would unearth. (“I was recycling before it was fashionable,” he chuckles. “I’m an environmentalist.”) His finds were sold from the trunk of a red MG at the Georgetown Flea Market.

Today, the stock of his eponymous upper Wisconsin Avenue shop, which opened in 2001, comes from far more congenial spots. “I do my buying in France, where I have a house in the Dordogne, and some in England and in Sweden.”

His eye, though, still is trained on the beautiful, no matter the source. He describes his aesthetic as “humble elegance.”

“I deal with very elegant things, but they have a humble soul. I like the tension between the two.” He points to an early-19th-century English bulls-eye mirror as a perfect example of that outlook. The elaborately carved frame is not gilded, the way a grander piece might be. Instead, it gets its character from a warm white finish that gives it a welcoming lightness.

Look around Luce’s airy, light-filled shop (which he shares with Dink, a Jack Russell terrier, and Penny, a schnauzer) and you’ll find tabletop arrangements that mix refined objects, folk art and furniture ranging from a Swedish comb-painted armoire to an iron table fashioned from industrial salvage from Belgium. You’ll also see charming juxtapositions, such as a 19th-century French tin weathervane in the shape of a rooster and a cement version of the same animal that sports an equally extravagant curving tail.

That sense of combination is part of a trend that Luce sees among his customers: “People are buying fewer things, but better quality, and they are mixing styles more.”

On a recent visit, a shop associate was unfolding a circa-1800 painted French screen that depicts a hunting expedition in a tropical landscape. Who knows what those long-ago gentlemen may be stalking? It might be fun to imagine that they, like Marston Luce, are on the trail of something beautiful.

Marston Luce
1651 Wisconsin Ave.
202-333-6800
www.marstonluce.com

GEORGETOWN’S ANTIQUES:

Christian Zapatka: Reinventing the Georgetown Townhouse
Frank Randolph: Interior Designer Extraordinaire
John Rosselli: Georgetown’s Antique Aficionado
Marston Luce: In Search of Elegance
Scandinavian Antiques & Living: International Accents
Susquehanna Antique Company: Redefining Tradition
Sixteen Fifty Nine: A Mid-Century Renaissance

Ari Post •

Let New York City have New Years. Chicago can keep St. Patrick’s Day. No one does the Fourth of July like Washington, D.C.

There is no venue more fitting wherein to celebrate this country’s Independence Day than the nation’s capital. July 4 celebrations in Washington are among the most attended events of the year. The National Mall, swept with national monuments and the US Capitol, is a beautiful backdrop for the city’s all-day event schedule, ending, of course, with a dazzling fireworks display over the Washington Monument.

Everyone this side of the equator knows of Washington’s infamous fireworks celebration, but there is also a wealth of activities going on throughout the day. Public access to the Mall begins at 10 a.m., so get your sunscreen and get ready.

11:45 a.m. marks the start of the Independence Day Parade, featuring marching bands, military and specialty units, floats and VIPs. Running along Constitution Avenue, the parade usually draws a sizable crowd, so get there a little early to secure a good view.

The Airmen of Note will perform at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in the Kogod Courtyard from 1 to 3 p.m. The band will play Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman and other classics from the American Big Band era. The event celebrates the opening of a related exhibit, “Telling Stories: Norman Rockwell from the Collections of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg.”

Once again, the annual Smithsonian Folklife Festival will be celebrating the cultures of all the lands that helped shape this country. Though the festival runs in two weekend segments, it culminates around the 4th. Music, food, crafts and performances will take place at this year’s event, focused on Asian Pacific Americans and the “Smithsonian, Inside Out.” Visitors are invited to look at how things work at the institution in four areas of concentration: “Unlocking the Mysteris of the Universe,” “Understanding and Sustaining a Biodiverse Planet,” “Valuing World Cultures,” and “Understanding the American Experience.” The festival also focuses on Mexico and will hold a special tribute to Haiti. The event begins at 11 a.m. and goes until 5 p.m.

The W Hotel presents Boom With A View at 7 p.m. Music will be provided by The Honey Brothers, D.S. Posner, DJ Sky Nellor, a premium open bar, hors d’oeuvres and a great view of the fireworks. The event will take place on the P.O.V. Roof Terrace and Lounge on top of the W.

The National Archives will host its traditional family programming, celebrating the signing of the Declaration of Independence. This year, NBC News National Correspondent Bob Dotson will be the MC. Including a dramatic reading of the Declaration by historical reenactors and free family activities and entertainment for all ages.

At the White House Visitor Center, National Park Service rangers and volunteers will give people the opportunity to sample the sights, sounds, activities and personages that helped finalize the Declaration of Independence. Then, at 6 p.m., the US Army Concert Band and the US Army Band Downrange will play on the southwest corner of the grounds of the Washington Monument.

Leading right up to the fireworks, a live concert by the National Symphony Orchestra and several pop artists, “A Capitol Fourth,” will perform patriotic music on the West Lawn of the Capitol Building. The concert is free and open to the public. No tickets necessary. The annual event will also be broadcast on PBS and National Public Radio on WAMU 88.5 FM.

And then, of course, the fireworks. Throughout the day, beginning in the early morning, families toting coolers and lawn chairs stake out prime real estate on the Mall’s lawn for the best views of the fireworks. And it is quite a sight. A smorgasbord of colors and light at the apex of dusk, the Capitol Building being the only other thing in sight, every dazzled eye gets lost in moments of transient patriotism. On top of the memorials lining the Mall and the US Capitol, there are other sites to enjoy the fireworks. East Potomac Park is a wonderfully fun semi-secret, and if you’re willing to ante up for tickets, the Southwest Waterfront 4th of July Festival, the Rooftop of the W Hotel, or a cruise along the Potomac River are all premier venues.

Robert Sacheli •

Enter Georgetown’s newest antiques shop, Scandinavian Antiques & Living, and you’re struck by the colorfully eclectic selection of merchandise and the warm welcome of its owner, Elisabeth Wulff Wine.

Wine, who opened her store a month ago, is a native of Denmark who spent a number of years in Milan as an art and antiques dealer and decorator before moving to Washington a year and a half ago.

Her distinctive eye is reflected in tablescapes whose elements cross the boundaries of countries and centuries. For example, one desktop display combines an 1810 bronze ormolu clock and a pair of Swedish empire candlesticks with a 1950s toilet set and a 1960s Murano glass platter in swirling pastels.

The shop’s walls, too, are home to an array of art that ranges from mid-century modern abstracts to 19th-century portraits and flower paintings.

That sense of aesthetic freedom is at the heart of Wine’s shop: “Today we mix antiques with other objects,” she says. “A home today does not have to be the same — there are so many possibilities.”

Swedish furniture forms the centerpiece of the store’s collection, and Wine is understandably fond of its distinctive style. “I love the Swedish look. It’s so simple and so elegant. And it looks nice to mix it.”

One of her favorite pieces is a Gustavian clock cabinet, a drop-front secretary topped with a clock framed in soft curves. (The Gustavian style takes its name from a late 18th-century Swedish monarch.) More graceful curves characterize a standing clock, whose case has been weathered to a beautiful pale turquoise since it was made in 1750, and Wine has chosen it for her shop’s logo.

There’s an elegant sense of femininity to much of the shop’s stock, such as a fanciful Italian crystal-beaded chandelier in the shape of a pagoda (perfect for a fabric-tented boudoir, perhaps) and sensuously shaped Murano glass torchieres. Along with objects such as vivid Murano glass vases from the middle of the last century, these play off the pastel tones and neoclassical lines of the Scandinavian furniture to create a lively, unexpected harmony.

It’s exactly that sense of personal expression that Wine emphasizes as she sums up her outlook on décor: “People’s own taste is very important, even when working with a decorator. That’s what makes a home very personal.”

Scandinavian Antiques & Living
3231 P St.
202-450-5894

GEORGETOWN’S ANTIQUES:

Christian Zapatka: Reinventing the Georgetown Townhouse
Frank Randolph: Interior Designer Extraordinaire
John Rosselli: Georgetown’s Antique Aficionado
Marston Luce: In Search of Elegance
Scandinavian Antiques & Living: International Accents
Susquehanna Antique Company: Redefining Tradition
Sixteen Fifty Nine: A Mid-Century Renaissance

Robert Sacheli •

Don Draper and his fellow “Mad Men” have been very good for Mike Johnson.
The hit series has kicked off a renaissance of interest in mid-century modern furnishings and the swanky decorative accessories of the 60s — exactly the focus of Johnson’s Wisconsin Avenue shop, Sixteen Fifty Nine.

Antiques run in Johnson’s family — his grandmother owned a shop in Michigan — and he recalls “going to auctions since I was a little kid.” It wasn’t until he left a long career in corporate sales, though, that his passion for collecting turned into a full-time business. Sixteen Fifty Nine has just hit the seven-year mark.

He started the shop because “I had been collecting mid-century modern, but felt the lines I was looking for were not as accessible as they could be” in existing outlets.
Johnson specializes in iconic designers like Dorothy Draper, T. H. Robsjohn-Gibbings, Paul Frankl, and Donald Deskey, creators whose work is not being commercially reproduced today.

Draper (Dorothy, not Don) is currently represented at Sixteen Fifty Nine by a striking jade-green lacquered dresser with white accents and nine-ringed drawer pulls. (A similar pair in a black-and-gold color scheme made an appearance in Candice Bergen’s fictional Vogue office in the “Sex and the City” movie.)

You also can’t miss a pair of Bernhardt loveseats, produced in the 1950s by the company’s Flair division, upholstered in an eye-popping lime-blue and green (which had, in true ’50s style, been preserved under plastic slipcovers). The pieces would not look out of place in a contemporary showroom.

“I like to do things that are very clean-lined, that come across as a current piece of
furniture,” Johnson says of his collector’s eye. “I always try to throw odds and ends into the mix” as well — such as his array of mid-century pottery, paintings and photos.

As more buyers and dealers climb on the sleek mid-century modern bandwagon,
Johnson finds that locating top-quality merchandise is becoming more difficult. “I get excited when I find a big-name piece of furniture.”

Johnson points to a massive buffet in Sixteen Fifty Nine’s window as a current favorite among his pieces, describing in detail its provenance from Michigan’s Mastercraft Furniture Company. With four doors elaborately paneled in Carpathian burled elm and a travertine marble inset top, it is indeed a beauty.

And it’s exactly the type of piece you could imagine Don Draper lounging beside.

Sixteen Fifty Nine
1659 Wisconsin Ave.
202-333-1480
www.sixteenfiftynine.com

GEORGETOWN’S ANTIQUES:

Christian Zapatka: Reinventing the Georgetown Townhouse
Frank Randolph: Interior Designer Extraordinaire
John Rosselli: Georgetown’s Antique Aficionado
Marston Luce: In Search of Elegance
Scandinavian Antiques & Living: International Accents
Susquehanna Antique Company: Redefining Tradition
Sixteen Fifty Nine: A Mid-Century Renaissance
[gallery ids="102639,102654,102647" nav="thumbs"]

Gary Tischler •

As February comes to a cold, long end, with it ends the annual celebration, commemoration and acknowledgement that we call Black History Month, celebrated and noted in an especially strong and defining way in Washington, D.C.

Events throughout the month noted one aspect of black history or another — Frederick Douglass’ birthday and Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, because the two leaders are intertwined and wrapped up in the times of their time, the agony of the Civil War, the triumph of Emancipation. At Mount Vernon, there were commemorative services and wreath-layings for the slaves at the first president’s Virginia plantation.

The Smithsonian Black History Month Family Day Celebration will be held Feb. 27, rescheduled from an earlier day in the month and featuring the theme “Tapestry of Cultural Rhythms.” The idea of a black history month, first begun as far back as 1926 by historian Carter G. Woodson as “Negro History Week” before becoming what we know as Black History Month, remains strangely controversial. Some of this is, of course, due to the lingering feeling that the very existence of a black history month forces people to think about, and often actually talk about, race in America. In Washington, the longer you live here, the more the idea of Black History Month seems hardly novel at all, as natural as breathing. This city, in function, culture, politics, economics, identity and social structure, is so Sybil-like, schizoid, diverse, multi-faceted and multi-tasked that it resists a wholesale identity. It is the capital of the United States, politically and governmentally, but that doesn’t necessarily amount to an identity. The White House, Capitol Hill and Congress are hard-core presences of the city’s function. They are not its heart and soul.
That honor belongs to us: we the people that live here. If the city has a defining identity, in terms of history, the idea of black history has played itself out here from the beginning. How black and white residents have built, lived, worked, created a social and cultural environment here tells you an enormous amount about the history of race in America.

In this city, you don’t ask the question of whether there is a black history here, because you’re living it every day, and confront it, embrace it, see it in every neighborhood and ward of the city. One of the things you find, past the historic homes and buildings, past the large number of churches, many of them built from the ground up after emancipation by black pastors and ministers, is that black history is everybody’s history in this city, it is, as a young essay contest winner wrote, “American history.”

This is the city where in all the time of Jim Crow, local blacks, their number swollen by the great migration to northern cities in the first decades of the 20th century, created a thriving black community apart from all the places in the city where they could not shop, eat , hear music or go to school. Thus a large section of Washington, spurred by Howard University, had its own lawyers and doctors, its shops and shopkeepers and businesses, its culture.

While lots of major urban centers in America have large black populations, Washington is different because of its politics and structure. Until the 1970s, it had no self-rule of any sort, and even now has no voting rights in Congress. Its history of home rule is brief, only some 40 years or so.

Every street, and maybe every street corner, and certainly every neighborhood large and small, is a part of black history. Three of the major churches in Georgetown on or near P Street are reminders of a large black population that existed early in the century and thrived for decades before dispersing into the suburbs.

Walk the African Heritage Trail, a guide to the entire city’s heritage of black history, and you’ll discovery all of our history here, along with the rich contributions of African American civil rights leaders, educators, teachers, politicians, political leaders, athletes and artists. Memories of segregation and Jim Crow live in memory here.

In almost every ward and neighborhood of this city, you’ll find the strong presence of African American men and women who made history, who helped create institutions, movements and ideas that live on, who lived here, day in and day out, who created or were leaders in their communities.

Black history resounds in the homes, buildings, institutions and churches of Washington: at Howard University, at the Lincoln Theater and the True Reformer Building in Greater U Street, where Duke Ellington lived early in his life, at the African American Civil War Memorial and Museum at the old Howard Theater, the Black Fashion Museum and the Whitelaw Hotel, at the Supreme Court where Thurgood Marshall became a towering figure.

You can find it at the Mary McLeod Bethune Council House, the first headquarters of the National Council of Negro Women, which Bethune founded, and which is still led by the indomitable civil rights leader Dorothy Height, who in turned founded the Black Family Reunions held annually on the Mall and across the country. It lives in the Shiloh Baptist Church in Shaw, in the slave cemeteries in Georgetown, at the DAR Constitution Hall, where Marian Anderson was not allowed to sing by the DAR, and at the Lincoln Memorial. It’s in the Frederick Douglass National Historic City at 14th and W Streets SE, at Fort Stevens in Brightwood and at the Summer School Museum and Archives.

And all along the Heritage Trail, you’ll find the names and homes of familiar historic figures: Willis Richardson, Paul Dunbar, Anna Julia Cooper, Christian Fleetwood, Ernest Everett Just, Charles Manuel “Sweet Daddy” Grace, Alain Locke, Mary Jane Patterson Carter G. Woodson, Anthony Bowen, Benjamin Banneker, Howard Woodson, Lois Mailou Jones and many others.

The National Mall is where the Revered Martin Luther King gave his resounding “I Have a Dream” speech, which energized the entire country and fired up the imagination of generations to come. His assassination in 1968 sparked a full-scale war and deadly, destructive riots — known simply as “the riots” — the effects of which devastated the local economy for years to come. That too is black history.

All the changes — downtown development, the decline of black population, the rise of condoland, our loyalties to schools and sports — make up the common knowledge of living here. We all see this all of the time, yet, it’s fair to say, we — black and white — don’t know as much about each other and interact as much as we should, and certainly could. Race is an integral, if not integrated, part of this city, and black history is also a history of race in America. This is a city where, in one mayoral election consisting entirely of black candidates, one of them was designated by others as the “white candidate.” Major political, emotional and cultural discussions about crime and education inevitably have components of class and race to them.

But our city’s history is a shared one. It exists for all of us in memory, if we access it. It snows on everyone, on all the neighborhoods, even though some might fare better than others when it comes to snow removal. We are a string of connected neighborhoods, with a history that we all own and share. Whatever you might say about our transit system, it moves on tracks that criss-cross every part of the city and outside of it too.

All of us lead daily lives, and in this way, we are more closely connected to each other, like a family, than to any temporary residents in the White House, in Congress and on K Street.
[gallery ids="102590,99062,99063,99064,99065" nav="thumbs"]