MONDAY, APRIL 19, 2010
Search comes up empty for Manhattan on the Potomac
“Manhattan on the Potomac:
It’s Not So Far Away” — headline in Rosslyn magazine, published by Rosslyn Renaissance and the Rosslyn Business Improvement District
always feel upon visiting a big, bustling city. Anticipation because of the myriad wonderments the metropolis offers, dread because I’m always worried that some big-city sharpie will prey on this rube from the provinces. I pondered putting my wallet in my underwear but decided against it (it makes financial transactions awkward). I noted the time of the last train from the station (11:57 p.m.) and strode out onto North Moore Street, girding myself for sensory overload. The towers of Washington’s
I
only skyline rose around me. The lights of the WJLA zipper rounded the corner in Times Square fashion. But where were the hustlers? The bootleg DVD vendors? The Naked Cowboy? There was not even a Naked GS-13. But perhaps the night was young.
Whenever I’m in Manhattan I
try to take in a show, and I behaved no differently in Rosslyn. The theater district is on North Kent Street, and it was to there that I hied, to Synetic Theater’s production of “Kafka’s Metamorphosis.” The ticket was $40, a bargain when I think of how much I paid for “Miss Saigon.” Since curtain wasn’t for half an hour, I decided to have a quick drink. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to (SPOILER ALERT) watch a man turn into a bug, I deserve to have necked at least one beer. I considered asking where the nearest watering hole was but decided to let serendipity be my guide.
Serendipity let me down. I walked the rectangle that is
emerged from the subway with that mixture of anticipation and dread I
JOHN KELLY’S WASHINGTON
Wilson Boulevard, North Lynn, 19th and North Kent streets without encountering anything other than Chipotle, Starbucks, Chopt . . . My heart rose briefly when I saw a sign for 7 Cleaners. I thought it might be one of those concept bars, a gritty unfinished space with an industrial vibe and drinks served in old Windex bottles. But, no, it was a dry cleaners. And it was closed. The Synetic show was interesting. I guess if it had been on Broadway, it would have been called “Cockroach!” and featured singing, dancing and a lobby full of souvenir Gregor Samsa dolls. It was now 9:30, probably too early for the most fashionable boîtes to have much of a crowd, but I was hungry and thirsty. I settled into a sidewalk table at Piola, a pizzeria (with a location in New York, I noted). Outside the Asian restaurant next door, a waiter was noisily chaining chairs together, lest they disappear overnight. Ah, Rosslyn pizza! There’s nothing quite like it: perfect at the edges of the crust, watery and undercooked in the center. My bill paid, I went in search of nightlife. But where? I walked west on Wilson and saw the Rhodeside Grill, but, consulting the map in the back of my copy of Rosslyn magazine, I realized it was not in Rosslyn. I was staying strictly inside the orange border on my map.
I hailed a cab, hopped in and
explained to the driver that Rosslyn magazine had called his fair city (his “fare” city, if you will) “Manhattan on the
Potomac.” He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, then said, “Manhattan? No.” I had heard good things about a bar called Continental, so I asked to be taken there. Before going in, I decided to stroll in Rosslyn’s version of Central Park, an oasis of green called Gateway Park that’s built over Interstate 66. But a sign read: “Open from sunrise until 1
⁄2
No trespassing at other times.” There were plenty of tables to choose from at Continental. I sat at the bar. “We have a big happy-hour crowd,” explained the bartender, Megan Hamlin. A man in dreadlocks saw the Rosslyn magazine I was clutching. “They slipped that under my door,” he said between sips at a lager. “ ‘Manhattan on the Potomac’ — that’s a horrible analogy.” He explained that he lives in
an apartment a few blocks away. He’d never been to Manhattan, he said, but he had a sense of it. He liked Rosslyn but said, “Let’s have appreciation and pride for who we are. The Potomac isn’t the Hudson River, so why force it?”
My own beer drained, I wanted to gaze down at Rosslyn from one of its skyscrapers, only to find them locked tight. JBG is building enormous twin towers, one with a public observation level, but they won’t be finished for three years. I didn’t have time to wait around — the last train was leaving — but I’ll be back to the Big, um, Blueberry!
kellyj@washpost.com
Pulitzer win is not end of story
pulitzer from B1
the complicated story to life for Gilbert, but at first, the property owner was wary. “I didn’t know if Daniel was on the companies’ side or the people’s side,” Hale said. “I didn’t want him to por- tray us as a bunch of hicks who didn’t know what was going on — because we do know what’s going on.” To Gilbert, Hale symbolized the
region’s ironic plight: “There was a certain drama of people from humble means living on top of tremendous resources of natural wealth.” From his small newsroom cu- bicle in Bristol, Gilbert ventured into the surrounding coalfield counties — Dickenson, Russell, Tazewell, Wise and Buchanan — where the economy since the late 1800s has been tied to coal’s fluc- tuating fortunes. The recession brought rampant joblessness, and household incomes have con- tinued to fall behind the national average. “Historically, our culture has been jaded,” said Frank Kilgore, a longtime Wise County lawyer. “Everybody expects the bottom to drop out. Despite the Bristol pa- per’s Pulitzer, you can take all that money in the state escrow account and give it to landowners today, and it wouldn’t make that much of a difference in the coal- field economy.” At the outset of his investiga- tion, Gilbert, fresh from two years as a reporter for the Potomac News in Prince William, knew only the outlines: Thousands of people were owed at least $24.5million in royalty pay- ments. He started attending Vir- ginia Gas and Oil Board meet- ings. His questions to state offi- cials about the royalties were often met with a “no comment.” Gilbert discovered that land- owners couldn’t get their money out of the account unless they filed lawsuits proving that they owned the gas rights. The report- er filed Freedom of Information Act requests that yielded e-mails and financial statements indicat- ing that the state account that held the royalties was losing money and that some officials had opposed a thorough audit of the account.
But the essence of the story was the readership in the area, for whom the gas royalties could make a powerful economic differ- ence. Hale, 38, relies on weekly unemployment checks of $255 that will run out in June. Laid off in January from a power-plant job where he hauled coal ash, he’s trying to support his wife, a teacher’s aide, and their 14-year- old daughter. The 40 acres of wooded land he and his relatives inherited from
MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/THE WASHINGTON POST
Carl Esposito, left, publisher of the Bristol Herald Courier, clowns around with Daniel Gilbert, who wrote a Pulitzer-winning series.
his great-great grandfather are rich in natural gas. He estimates his royalties add up to $213,854.18, of which he has seen not a penny. (Hale learned Sun- day that his old employer can take him back — at least for now. He heads back Monday.) Hale said he shouldn’t have to
pay for a lawyer to prove he owns the gas rights. “They’ve been pumping off my property for years, and I haven’t gotten one monthly statement that they’ve been putting money into the es- crow,” he said. “When you have a deed for something in America, it should stand for something.” Hale led Gilbert along curving
byways embroidered with purple redbuds, past dilapidated homes and diabetes-awareness bill- boards, to his rocky tract and a gas meter and gas pipe near the boundary of his land. “This is hard, knowing my family could benefit from this,” Hale said, lis- tening to the hiss of gas being sucked out of his piece of earth. The two picked their way down a steep slope laced with bram- bles, arriving at a level patch dot- ted with gray stone markers. This, Hale said, is his family cem- etery, a testament to short, hard
lives: Mary Hale and son, 1874 to 1905; Lula Hale, 1899-1932; Bury Hale, Sept. 9-11, 1948.
J. Todd Foster, managing editor of the Herald Courier, supported Gilbert’s investigation as a way to demonstrate the value of aggres- sive journalism to a suffering community at a time when the paper, although profitable, was trimming its rural delivery routes to save on fuel costs and cutting its budget as circulation dropped from 40,000 in 2006 to 30,000. “I get calls from residents all the time, saying, ‘Please come back and deliver here,’ ” Foster said. The paper is husbanding its re- sources to keep up its ambitious work. Its most recent big project, a 24-page special section devoted to health care, was published Sunday. “The coalfields are his- torically depressed,” Foster said.
“There’s a reason we have re- mote-area medical clinics and that abuse of Oxycontin reached epidemic proportions here. We are one of the most unhealthy parts of the country.” Complex investigations some-
times get results and win prizes, but they don’t tend to attract huge audiences. Foster said the gas royalties stories netted “less than half the Web traffic of a story about three local Hooters waitresses” being chosen for their chain’s 2010 calendar. Since winning his Pulitzer, Gil-
bert hasn’t received any job offers from big newspaper recruiters. “There’s a lot of buzz at the mo- ment, but none of that means I’m a better journalist,” he said. “I wouldn’t say this catapults me to stardom.”
Driving back to the newsroom
from Hale’s property, Gilbert con- templated his future in a trou- bled business. “I’m wondering if I’m okay with being a journalist for my career,” he said. “This is the time to consider other ca- reers. I got into journalism be- cause I wanted to be a foreign correspondent, but I don’t see that as a viable career path — not even after [last] Monday’s news.” That night, Gilbert got back to
the newsroom and soon was on deadline again. After the royalties series was published, Richmond lawmakers introduced legislation that could release the royalties to their rightful owners. Gov. Robert F. McDonnell (R) has signed the measure into law. Gilbert dialed up two state law-
makers for their reaction but wasn’t getting callbacks. As he typed quickly, the police scanner squawked something about a Country Boy market clerk calling 911 because a customer threw a phone in her face. His story filed, Gilbert stood in
the newsroom’s hallway, miffed about not getting calls returned. “I’m a Pulitzer Prize winner,” he said, chuckling. “Why didn’t they call me back?”
shapirai@washpost.com
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A board set up outside Shaw Middle School at Garnet-Patterson is a memorial to Principal Brian Betts.
Detectives seek clues in principal’s death
hour after sunset.
Police say little on progress of case 3 days after slaying
by Dan Morse
Montgomery County homicide
detectives spent more than four hours Sunday inside the home of slain school principal Brian Betts as the probe into his shooting death entered its third day. Detectives are trying to learn who was with Betts in his final hours. At one point, an officer re- trieved a black toolbox and other items from the evidence van and brought them into the house. De- tectives could be seen carrying at
least one brown paper bag, the kind typically used to store evi- dence, from the home. Forensics experts also showed
up at the house in Silver Spring, just south of the Capital Beltway. “They’re revisiting the scene, seeing if there is anything they missed,” said Capt. Paul Starks, a police spokesman. Detectives who went in and out of the house Sunday declined to comment. Well-wishers came by Betts’s house as well, leaving flowers just off the curb in his front yard. Shelagh Smith, who knew Betts through her daughter, drove 30 minutes from Rockville to leave green roses. “He really believed he could turn kids lives around, and I think he did,” Smith said. “He showed a special kindness.”
LOCAL DIGEST
THE DISTRICT
Three shot in Trinidad area
Three people were wounded
Sunday afternoon in an outbreak of gunfire in the Trinidad neigh- borhood of Northeast Washing- ton, D.C. police said. None of the wounds appeared to be life- threatening, authorities said. The shootings occurred about
4:30 p.m. in the 1100 block of Morse Street NE, where one of the three victims was found. Two other victims began driv- ing to a hospital, police said. They were found on North Capitol Street. One was found at O Street and the other at P Street, accord- ing to the D.C. fire and emergency medical services department. Po-
lice said both were conscious and breathing when found. The circumstances of the shooting were not clear, and the matter was under investigation Sunday night.
— Martin Weil
MARYLAND
Man is charged in death of daughter
A 22-year-old Baltimore man has been charged with murder in the death of his 2-year-old daugh- ter.
Melonie Hamber died Saturday
afternoon at Johns Hopkins Hos- pital. Police said her father, Ty- rone Hamber, told investigators that he found the girl unrespon- sive. He later told police he beat
her with a belt to discipline her.
— Associated Press
Court system to hold public hearing
The Maryland judiciary is holding the last in a yearlong se- ries of listening events about how to improve access to courts. The meeting is set for 6 p.m.
Tuesday at the state Court of Ap- peals, 361 Rowe Blvd., Annapolis. Those who want to speak at the hearing must register in advance. The panel is especially con- cerned with the civil justice sys- tem, including landlord-tenant, divorce, child custody, small claims and domestic violence cases.
— Associated Press
Neighbors said they saw Betts in his back yard Wednesday eve- ning. The next day, he didn’t show up at Shaw Middle School at Garnet-Patterson, in the Dis- trict. That evening, a co-worker went to his house to check on him, was able to go inside, saw a light on upstairs, left the house and called police. Officers found Betts’s clothed body in one of his bedrooms. Police remained tight-lipped about the case Sunday, refusing to divulge new information. On Saturday, Betts’s SUV turned up 14 miles away
in
Southeast Washington. Investi- gators have made no arrests in the death of Betts, who was re- membered for his dedication to students.
morsed@washpost.com
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