Washington, D.C. For
many of Washington's 600,000 residents, 2002 was a year they would rather
forget. For months, the world heard murky conspiracy theories about
the mysterious disappearance of Congressional aide Chandra Levy, until
by now D.C. police suspect the young woman fell victim to "just"
another one of those all too frequent random killings that have plagued
the city in recent years.
In early fall came four harrowing weeks of sniper killings in the Washington
area that kept everybody on edge and led to the suspension of most outdoor
activities. For two weeks, the police was misled into believing that
the villain was a white man in a white van slipping through their dragnet.
When at last they busted the killers, they turned out to be two nonwhite
drifters, one only a teenager, in a shabby Caprice. The two had escalated
their random crime spree from robberies to serial murders.
While the police struggled to keep the public's confidence, the fire
department had a different problem. Its chief, Ronnie Few, skipped town
in a hurry after somebody discovered that he had engaged in an activity
widespread among office seekers: exaggerating the facts. He had padded
his résumé with a firefighting award and educational credentials
he never received.
Next, the ex-president of Washington's Teachers Union was suspected
of diverting Union funds for her own benefit. When FBI agents raided
her apartment on expensive Massachusetts Avenue last week, they discovered
some $500,000 worth of hand-tailored dresses, a 288-piece Tiffany sterling
silver set valued at $57,000, a $20,000 mink coat, and a $6,800 Buccatelli
silver ice bucket, all acquired from the dues of chronically underpaid
teachers.
The once wildly popular Mayor Marion Barry, who lost his job when he
had to serve penitentiary time for drug dealing, decided last spring
to return to the city council by challenging an incumbent in the Democratic
primary. His chances seemed promising until one day he parked his Jaguar
on a street in southwest Washington to visit a "female political
associate." Nearby Park Police, however, observed "a powdery
ring around Barry's nose and trace amounts of crack cocaine in his car."
That again interrupted his comeback and may earn him yet another unwanted
vacation in the Big House.
Like Marion Barry, Washington's present Mayor Anthony Williams has a
neck for stumbling into unfavorable publicity. To run again in the 2002
elections, he needed 2,000 signatures for his nominating petition. He
instructed his campaign staff, however, to get 10,000 signatures to
show his overwhelming popularity. Unfortunately, over 8,000 of them
turned out to be forgeries.
The scandal, however, did not faze "Hizzoner." Being crossed
off the ballot, he immediately launched an unprecedented write-in campaign.
Trying to take advantage of the scandal, Republican councilwoman Carol
Schwartz came out of retirement to run against Williams in her fourth
bid for mayor. The results of the race were impressive. The forgeries
apparently amused voters so much that they gave Williams 66 percent
of the vote in the Democratic primary and 61 percent in the election.
That showed Ms. Schwartz for the fourth time that Republicans don't
stand a chance in D.C.'s local elections.
Other ambitious residents also found themselves stymied in their efforts
to enhance D.C.'s image. Congressional delegate Eleanor Holmes Norton
failed to get Congress to give the District its own quarter in the Fifty
States Commemorative Quarter Folder. That ought to tell Washingtonians
how much longer they might have to wait until they get the same voting
rights as the states. Even in sports, the Washington Wizards made an
ignominious miscalculation. They acquired Michael Jordan, the NBA's
biggest box office attraction, only to find out that all the other Wizards
are so mediocre that even Michael's on-court wizardry could not turn
them into a winning team.
Never mind, I say, Washington D.C. is still one of the most beautiful
and fascinating capital cities in the world, warts and all.