Welcome to today's deep dive. Let me ask you
a question right out of the gate. When you hear
the words Capitol Hill, what immediately pops
into your head? I'm guessing for most of you
listening, it's a very specific scene. Right,
like congressional gridlock, a sea of dark suits.
And those cable news broadcasts with the iconic
white dome glowing in the background. Exactly.
I mean, it is a phrase we use every single day
as a miditonum, right? Yeah, a political shorthand
for the United States Congress. But for today's
Deep Dive, we're on a mission to look right past
that shorthand. We are using a comprehensive
Wikipedia article as our source material to uncover
the actual living, breathing, two -square -mile...
neighborhood that surrounds that famous building.
Which is such a fascinating angle because the
reality of the neighborhood is so different from
the political symbol. It really is. And let me
just set the scene for you with a baseline fact
that completely shifted my perspective when I
was looking through our source. This tiny little
area is actually one of Washington, D .C.'s most
densely populated neighborhoods. It's incredible.
We are talking about. Roughly 35 ,000 people
living in just under two square miles. It really
is a staggering density when you think about
the physical footprint. And that's exactly why
taking this deep dive is so rewarding. Yeah.
We tend to view Capitol Hill purely as a stage
for national politics, but it is a real community
with a remarkably complex physical evolution.
Understanding how this specific space grew, adapted
and changed gives us a really unique ground level
lens. into the history of the American Republic
itself. I am really looking forward to getting
into the quirks of this neighborhood because,
well, the history of Capitol Hill is filled with
weird misunderstandings and grand visions right
from the start. Oh, absolutely. So here's where
it gets really interesting. The very origin story
of the hill's name is basically a geographical
typo. A very persistent typo, yeah. Right. Let's
picture the year 1791. Pierre Charles L 'Enfant
is designing the federal capital city, mapping
out his famous plan. The grand vision for Washington.
Exactly. He picks the highest point for what
he calls the Congress House, making it the symbolic
center of the entire city. And he refers to this
site in his plans as Jenkins Hill or Jenkins
Heights. Which sounds so official. It does. You
hear a name like that and naturally assume Jenkins
was some crucial founding figure or maybe a major
landowner in the area. You would certainly assume
that given the prominence of the location. But
the reality is quite different, and it is a wonderful
piece of historical myth busting. I love this
part. There was indeed a man named Thomas Jenkins
who had once pastured some livestock in the general
vicinity of the new capital city. Just some guy
with his cows. Exactly. So his name had just
sort of attached itself casually to the area
through local word of mouth. L 'Enfant simply
took a localized name he heard and mistakenly
applied it to the specific hill he wanted for
the Congress House. And we know this for a fact
now, right? We do, for two main reasons. First,
John Trumbull, the famous artist who painted
several of the massive murals you can see today
inside the Capitol's rotunda, well, he toured
the site in 1791. And he reported that the site
chosen for the Capitol was actually covered in
incredibly thick, dense woods. Which means it
would be a terrible place for grazing livestock.
Because you can't pasture cows in a... In a dense
forest, exactly. They need cleared, open fields
to graze. Right. So that's the logical flaw that
historians puzzled over for years. It is. And
the synthesis of this mystery didn't fully come
together until 2004. That recent? Yeah, recent
research published by the Capitol Hill Historical
Society finally tracked down the property records.
They proved that Thomas Jenkins' actual land,
his cleared pasture, was seven blocks east of
where the Capitol sits today. That is so funny
to think about. This grand, world -famous center
of democracy was almost forever known because
of a mapping error by a guy and his cows. It
really humbles the history a bit. It does. But
before L 'Enfant even arrived, the land actually
had an even more... dramatic name the tract of
land originally belonged to the prominent Carroll
family and in their ownership records they literally
recorded this specific piece of property as Rome
Rome that detail feels almost too perfectly scripted
for history right and it transitions us right
into how the area got its final permanent name
In 1793, Thomas Jefferson, who was serving as
President George Washington's Secretary of State
at the time, officially named it Capitol Hill.
Directly invoking the Roman Empire. Yes, invoking
the famous Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus
on the Capitoline Hill, which is one of the legendary
Seven Hills of Rome. Though the source material
notes that historians still debate the exact
philosophical connection Jefferson was trying
to make. They do, but the Roman ambition was
clearly in the air. The young republic wanted
to project the permanence and democratic ideals
of antiquity. So we go from a mythical cow pasture
to the Roman Empire in a matter of a few years.
But as the 18th century closes out, the neighborhood
starts to actually take physical shape. And it
didn't start the way you might expect. Not at
all. When we think of Capitol Hill today, we
think of powerful politicians putting down deep
roots, buying multi -million dollar townhomes.
But in the early years of the republic, between
1799 and 1810, the politicians we associate with
the hill today didn't actually want to live there
permanently at all. No, what's fascinating here
is the stark contrast between the government
and the governed. Early congressmen viewed Washington,
D .C. as a transient, uncomfortable place. Just
a swampy, underdeveloped construction zone. Precisely.
Few of them wanted to bring their families or
establish permanent roots in the city. So the
very first stage of Capitol Hill's history was
as a boarding house community. Right. Politicians
essentially just wanted to rent a room within
walking distance of the Capitol while they were
in session. And then get out of town the minute
the legislative session ended. They were the
original long distance commuters, treating the
Capitol like a remote work assignment. That's
a great way to put it. So if the politicians
were just passing through, leaving their boarding
houses empty half the year, who were the real
founders of the neighborhood who was actually
living there year round? The real founders were
the working class. The neighborhood truly began
developing its permanent residential character
in 1799, and it happened alongside the establishment
of the Washington Navy Yard on the banks of the
Anacostia River. Okay, so a major industrial
hub right nearby. Yes. The original residential
population wasn't senators in powdered wigs.
It was the craftsmen. The people actually doing
the work. Exactly. These were the stonemasons
and carpenters actually swinging the hammers
to build the Capitol building and the shipwrights
repairing vessels down at the Navy Yard. Makes
sense. They chose to settle down in the area
north of the Navy Yard and east of the Capitol,
carving out a permanent community between those
two massive federal employment hubs. And the
neighborhood got another huge permanent anchor.
right around that same time. In 1801, Thomas
Jefferson, who is now president, selected a location
near the Navy Yard for the Marine Barracks. A
very strategic choice. Purely logistical, right.
The source says the main requirement for the
location was that the barracks had to be within
marching distance of both the Capitol and the
White House in case of an emergency. And that
establishment, which remains the oldest U .S.
Marines facility and their main ceremonial ground
to this day, brought a massive influx of daily,
year -round activity to the area. Because suddenly
you have all these soldiers. Right, soldiers
who needed boots repaired, uniforms tailored,
and food to eat. By 1810, because of these permanent
crashes, craftsmen, and the Marines, you suddenly
had a bustling local economy. Shops, blacksmiths,
goldsmiths, and churches. All flourishing. It
wasn't just a seasonal boarding house town for
politicians anymore. It was a real functional
working class community. As we move into the
19th century, the neighborhood continues to grow,
but that growth brings some really difficult
chapters. The Civil War obviously reshaped the
entire region. It did. And Capitol Hill became
a crucial staging ground, seeing several large
hospitals constructed right in the neighborhood
to care for the wounded coming off the battlefields.
And the aftermath of that war fundamentally changed
the social fabric of Capitol Hill. Following
the Civil War in the 1870s and 1880s, the area
experienced a massive housing construction boom.
New streets being laid out. The city expanding.
Yes, but this is also the period where the neighborhood
began to distinctly divide along racial and economic
class lines. How did that division actually play
out on the streets? Did the physical layout of
the neighborhood change to reflect that? It did.
You started to see a stark contrast in living
conditions based on geography and wealth. Right.
The wealthier, predominantly white residents
began consolidating along the wider tree -lined
avenues and the areas closest to the Capitol
building itself. The prime real estate. Right.
Meanwhile, the working class residents, and particularly
the rapidly growing population of formerly enslaved
Black Americans who had moved to the Capitol
after the war, were frequently pushed into the
smaller alleyways. Or the less desirable plots
further east. Or closer to the industrial zones,
exactly. The neighborhood essentially became
a microcosm of the divided nation, navigating
segregation and deep economic disparities right
in the shadow of the Capitol Dome. It is a heavy
reality to sit with, realizing that the streets
right outside the legislative chambers were dealing
with those exact fractures. It's a vital part
of the history. It is. But as the 19th century
comes to a close, Capitol Hill also experiences
an absolute boom of technology. innovation that
shifts the landscape again. Between 1890 and
1910, the neighborhood transformed dramatically.
The downtown areas of the District of Columbia,
which included Capitol Hill, were among the very
first to get modern municipal conveniences. We
are talking about the arrival of reliable electricity,
municipal piped water, and indoor plumbing, all
rolling out in the 1890s. Which is huge. It's
revolutionary. When you introduce plumbing and
electricity to an area that is already physically
close to the seat of national power and major
employment hubs, it sparks a massive real estate
development boom. Right, because developers realize
they can tear down older, outdated structures
and build highly desirable modern homes. I want
you, the listener, to just imagine the sheer
whiplash of that transformation for a second.
And hard to even picture. In just a few generations,
you have a neighborhood that goes from muddy
18th century boarding houses without houses in
the back to a fully electrified, plumbed, modern
neighborhood. With streetlights. It happened
incredibly fast. Okay, let's unpack this. With
all that rapid construction and tearing down
of old buildings, what does the architectural
history actually look like when you walk down
the street in Capitol Hill today? Is it just
a uniform wall of brick? Far from it. Because
of that century of rapid, varied growth, Capitol
Hill is largely a residential neighborhood composed
of an incredible mix of architectural styles
standing shoulder to shoulder. So real patchwork.
Exactly. You have early 19th century manor houses,
these large stately standalone homes sitting
right beside federal style townhouses. And federal
style. Those are the classic flat front brick
buildings with simple, elegant lines. That's
the one. Then further down the block, you might
see small, simple frame dwellings right next
to ornate Italianate bracketed houses. Let me
pause you there. When we say Italianate bracketed
houses, what are we actually picturing? Imagine
a house with a low -pitched roof. that hangs
way out over the edge of the building. And underneath
that wide roof overhang supporting it are these
heavy, highly decorative wooden brackets. They
look very grand and slightly romantic, inspired
by Italian country villas. That paints a great
picture. But the style that really dominates
the later part of the 19th century during that
big plumbing and electricity boom we talked about
are the press brick row houses. Yes, the classic
DC row house. And they feature these incredibly...
decorative elements. The source research highlights
a mix of Richardsonian Romanesque, Queen Anne,
and Eastlakey motifs. It sounds like an architectural
dictionary. Right. So to break that down for
you listening, Richardsonian Romanesque means
you are looking at heavy castle -like stone arches
over the windows and doors. Very sturdy. Very
dramatic. Exactly. Then Queen Anne gives you
those asymmetrical fairytale shapes with round
turrets and wraparound porches. And then Eastlakean
refers to a very specific, intricate, geometric
spindle work, usually carved out of wood on the
porches or gables. It creates a fascinating architectural
playground. of these very serious heavy stone
arches paired with delicate wooden spindle work
on the exact same block. But it is important
to note that the neighborhood didn't freeze in
1910. No, definitely not. The 1990s brought another
economic boom and intense gentrification to the
district, which meant a lot of the neighborhood's
non -historic or completely obsolete buildings
were targeted for replacement. I would imagine
that creates a huge tension. How do you build
a brand new apartment building or office space
in the 1990s without completely ruining the aesthetic
of a neighborhood covered in castle arches and
wooden turrets? You do it through strict regulation.
New buildings in Capitol Hill have to comply
with rigorous height limits and historic preservation
restrictions to maintain the character of the
area. So modern architects had to get creative.
They really did. Much of this newer infill was
done in a decorative modernist style. A standout
example from the text is the work of architect
Amy Weinstein. Her designs feature this very
distinctive polychrome brickwork set in patterned
relief. Polychrome meaning using multiple contrasting
colors of brick, right? Precisely. Instead of
just a flat wall of red brick, she used contrasting
colored bricks, reds, browns, creams. And arranged
them in complex, raised geometric patterns. Yes.
It honors the area's deep tradition of masonry
and brickwork, but it brings a distinctly new,
vibrant, modern aesthetic to the streets. It's
a modern building in conversation with the 19th
century architecture next door. That's a perfect
way to describe it. Speaking of buildings that
completely surprise you. There is a massive nonpolitical
landmark sitting right on Capitol Hill that I
had no idea about. I know exactly what you're
going to say. When you think of this neighborhood,
you think of laws, courts, and government agencies.
You do not necessarily think of Elizabethan theater.
You're referring to the Folger Shakespeare Library.
I am. And you're right. It is a tremendous cultural
surprise hidden in plain sight. It is a world
-class research library and museum that houses
the world's largest collection of material related
to William Shakespeare. The world's largest,
right there next to the Capitol. It is wild to
think about. And it doesn't stop there. Beyond
the Shakespeare folios, it also holds the third
largest collection of English books printed before
the year 1641. Just a staggering amount of history.
The facility includes a large museum space and
operates the Folger Theater, which is internationally
recognized as a leading interpreter of Shakespeare's
works. It is a primary global repository for
rare materials from the early modern period of
Europe, sitting right in the middle of America's
political center. It really just proves how much
more is going on in this two square mile radius
than just politics. Absolutely. And you really
feel that neighborhood vibrancy when you look
at its commercial hubs. Pennsylvania Avenue is
packed with shops, restaurants and bars. And
then there is Barracks Row on 8th Street SE.
Which gets its name from its proximity to the
Marine Barracks we discussed earlier. Exactly.
And it is actually one of the city's oldest commercial
corridors dating all the way back to the late
18th century. It has recently been revitalized
and is completely thriving today. There is also
a great newer community center called Hill Center,
which is housed in the beautifully restored Old
Naval Hospital at 9th and Pennsylvania Avenue.
That concept of restoration brings up a defining
characteristic of Capitol Hill. It's profound
resilience. Yeah, that really jumped out in the
research. This is a community that has faced
devastating setbacks, particularly fires, and
has consistently chosen to rebuild and preserve
its history rather than surrender the land to
new development. A perfect example is Eastern
Market. Yes. Built in 1873, it is a vital public
market and food hall on 7th Street SE. It is
the kind of place where vendors sell fresh meat
and produce inside, while farmers and artisans
host vibrant weekend flea markets outside. But
in April 2007, a major fire broke out and completely
gutted the main historic market building. I can't
even imagine the emotional toll of that. For
a community that is so anchored by its history,
watching a 130 -year -old gathering space burn
down must have been devastating. It was a tremendous
blow. The roof collapsed and the interior was
ruined. In many neighborhoods, that would have
been the end of it. A developer would have bought
the lot and built condos. Right, took the insurance
money and ran. Exactly. But the Capitol Hill
community rallied. They pooled resources, worked
with the city, and the market underwent a massive...
painstaking historical restoration. And it triumphantly
reopened to the public in June 2009. And unfortunately,
they had to prove that exact same resilience
again just a few years later. With Frager's hardware.
Yes. which had been a beloved neighborhood staple
on Pennsylvania Avenue for nearly 100 years,
they suffered a similarly destructive fire. Yet
just like Eastern Market, the community refused
to let it go, and they successfully rebuilt on
the exact same location. That is true neighborhood
pride. You don't rebuild a 100 -year -old hardware
store unless the community demands it. And you
see that pride in their public spaces, too. With
all that dense housing we talked about, they
still managed to preserve these fantastic public
parks and squares. Like Lincoln Park. Right,
which sits just east of the Capitol and features
the Emancipation Memorial, as well as a statue
of the great civil rights leader, Mary McLeod
Bethune. You've got Staten Park, named after
Lincoln's Secretary of War, featuring an equestrian
statue of Nathaniel Green. There is Seward Square,
where the diagonal roads chop the area into four
distinct triangular sections. And I love this
next detail. Marion Park in the southern edge
of the neighborhood is affectionately known by
locals as Turtle Park. A very grounded, unpretentious
nickname for a park in the nation's capital.
Right. And why is it called Turtle Park? Because
it has a large, climbable cement turtle in its
playground. No ancient Roman connections there.
No marble monuments to military heroes. Just
a cement turtle. For the neighborhood kids. Yeah.
And honestly, a neighborhood with that much character
attracts an incredibly eclectic group of residents.
It really does. When you look at who has actually
called Capitol Hill home over the decades. The
list is wild. It is a remarkable cross -section
of American public life. You have the great social
reformer and abolitionist Frederick Douglass,
who purchased his first home in Washington right
on Capitol Hill. Wow. You also have the first
director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover, who was
actually born in the neighborhood. You also have
the famed March King composer John Philip Sousa,
current U .S. Senator Bernie Sanders, and my
personal favorite curveball on the list, actress
and comedian Anna Gasteyer. Just an incredibly
diverse group of people drawn to these same tree
-lined streets over the centuries. And preserving
those streets eventually became a formal priority.
In 1976, the Capitol Hill Historic District was
officially placed on the National Register of
Historic Places. As we noted earlier, it includes
buildings from the federal period of 1800 all
the way through 1919. Making it one of the largest
historic districts in the entire United States.
If we connect this to the bigger picture, you
can see the modern trajectory of Capitol Hill.
Throughout its existence, it has largely remained
a fairly stable middle class neighborhood. Right.
However, like many urban centers across the country,
it suffered a period of severe economic decline
and rising crime in the mid 20th century. And
during the 1980s, the fringes of the neighborhood
were heavily affected by the crack epidemic.
It is important not to gloss over that. Absolutely.
The neighborhood went through a genuinely tough,
painful period where longtime residents were
dealing with systemic urban neglect and a real
public health crisis on their doorsteps. The
historic charm was still there, but the socioeconomic
reality for many residents, particularly those
on the eastern edges of the neighborhood, was
incredibly challenging. But the neighborhood
gradually recovered into the 1990s. And that
recovery brought an intense wave of gentrification.
This fundamentally transformed the economic landscape
once again. As the area became safer and more
desirable, property values skyrocketed. The obsolete
buildings were replaced with the modern infill
we discussed, and the demographics and cost of
living shifted dramatically, pricing out many
working -class families who had lived there for
generations. So what does this all mean? Well,
I think the biggest takeaway is that the next
time you are listening to the news and an anchor
says, today on Capitol Hill, you shouldn't just
picture a sea of suits in the Capitol complex.
Exactly. I want you to picture the kids climbing
on the cement shell in Turtle Park. I want you
to think of the federal townhomes built by 18th
century craftsmen sitting right next to Amy Weinstein's
modern polychrome brickwork. Think of the world's
largest Shakespeare collection hidden behind
classic architecture. And the smell of fresh
produce at the fiercely resilient Eastern Market.
It is a real, living, complex neighborhood that
has survived fires, wars, and economic upheaval.
I think that is the perfect way to frame it,
and it leaves us with an interesting paradox
to consider. Well, the history of this neighborhood
showed us that the very first politicians who
lived in this area insisted on staying in temporary,
uncomfortable boarding houses. Right. They treated
it like a remote work assignment. They explicitly
did not want to establish permanent roots in
Washington. They wanted to govern and leave.
Yet today, those exact same streets have undergone
intense gentrification, with modern residents
fiercely competing and paying top dollar just
to secure a permanent piece of that historic
brick and mortar. That's true. Consider how that
original transient mindset of the early government
contrasts so sharply with the highly coveted,
deeply rooted community that eventually grew
up in their shadow.