Signs and Wonders

It was a decade ago that several members of Sojourners Community temporarily moved into an apartment building with a neighborhood family to try to preserve six low-income apartments there. Despite the effort, the building was sold to a young professional couple at a handsome profit, the remaining family was evicted just as the other five had been, and the Sojourners members who had "occupied" the house were carted off to jail. A court-appointed defense attorney whose services had been refused made a memorable parting comment to the defendants: "Your best defense is insanity; anybody who thinks they can fight gentrification in this city is crazy."

I was reminded of the incident recently when I read an article in The Washington Post about the "Georgetownization" of the neighborhood adjacent to ours. Quoted in the article was one of the owners of that building 10 years ago, described now as "one of the neighborhood's largest land owners." The article described his plans to build a "hotel-office-theater-apartment complex" with a glass-covered walkway patterned after Boston's Faneuil Hall not far from the elegant restaurant he has designs to expand.

Also mentioned in the article was a new nightclub called Cities. Its owner spent $1.5 million to renovate a former dance studio, and he now spends $40,000 every four months to change the decor of the disco to feature a new city.

Some say what's happening is the beginning of a new upbeat and upscale era in the neighborhood. Others see the beginning of the end of a century-old community marked by rich ethnic diversity. The days of the street vendors, the storefronts, and the lively annual Hispanic festival may well be numbered.

The line that separates this neighborhood from ours is 16th Street, which runs straight north from the White House. In our neighborhood, it's hard not to feel closed in upon, as "redevelopment" sweeps up from downtown as well. Most recently, work began just three blocks to the south on the old Manhattan Laundry, former employer of some of our closest neighborhood friends, to convert it into an upscale mall.

It's getting harder and harder for us to be able to afford to live with the poor. And it's even more difficult for them to hold on here.

The irony, of course, is that as rents here skyrocket, conditions on the street get worse and worse, as more and more illegal drug traffic and prostitution get pushed from other places into our corner of Washington, D.C. The homicide rate took a major leap at the beginning of 1988, and brutal drug-related violence continues to escalate. D.C. police officers were recently issued automatic weapons in order to match the destructive force of the firearms the drug dealers are toting.

LATELY IT SEEMS THAT the neighborhood always comes up as a topic of conversation at our Monday night Bible study, composed of a handful of Sojourners members and neighbors. We pray often for the children. We talked last Monday about the fear.

Mary Glover spoke of people in her building who are afraid to go out at night -- especially older citizens. Barb Tamialis mentioned that she has seen a young woman who moved in two doors down from her house out on 13th Street at night working as a prostitute; Barb felt both angry and sad and didn't know what to do to help her. We all had stories to tell about how blatant the illegal drug traffic has become, how belligerent the dealers.

As the conversation progressed, I had a feeling of being on a sinking ship. I couldn't see what miracle might bring hope back to these desperate streets. The only people who seem to take much interest in this corner of the city are those who have plans to "clean it out" and make it the next Georgetown.

After the Bible study, we left our neighborhood center together, stepping out into complete darkness as someone wondered aloud if the city was ever going to get around to fixing the block's burned-out street light. Someone else noticed the phenomenon in the sky.

It was noticeable only in that block, we noted later. Light from the street lights on the other blocks as we made our way home caused it to disappear from sight.

I am not one given over to signs and wonders, I confess. But the sign seemed unmistakable that night. We paused in awe at the rainbow around the moon, taking time to count the colors. It just hung there quietly in the sky over our neighborhood.

Perhaps the upscale entrepreneurs are not the only ones with an interest in this neighborhood after all. I am reminded that God has a way of speaking to people who appear to be on sinking ships.

Joyce Hollyday was associate editor of Sojourners when this article appeared.