I’ve long been a fan of the work of Chris Arnade—particularly his book Dignity—and while I don’t think Mr. Arnade would describe himself as a journalist, I read Dignity just as I commenced working as a professional photojournalist and his work struck me both professionally as well as influencing how I look at elements of public policy.
Since publishing Dignity, Arnade has continued his “walks” where he picks a town in America (or elsewhere) and, well, walks through it, to show both how people live but also support his broader sociological theses. Recently, he did a walk from Alexandria, VA to Washington DC, a walk I was excited to read about since, well, he’d be walking not too far away from where I live. And yet, after following along with that day, I felt that he “left a little on the table” as it were. Now, I understand that he was trying to make a larger point, contrasting the area with the Anacostia neighborhood in DC, and some of his broader criticisms still rang true. But regardless of the parts I agreed with or not, I was inspired to take my own walk—to explore these neighborhoods and see and share what’s there.
Unlike Arnade, I’ve always been more interested in the environment that people live in, rather than the people themselves (though that began to change after reading Dignity). Nonetheless, this walk is very focused on the built environment of Northern Virginia.
As it happened, we recently had an unusually warm Saturday in February and after weeks of being cooped up indoors, I was ready to explore.
The City of Crystal
Crystal City, Virginia is one of the older Northern Virginia suburbs but it really started to come into its own, as it were, in the early 60s as the older light industrial portions of the neighborhood were torn down to make way for development. Crystal City is dominated by mid-century brutalist architecture, owing to when it started to be built out, and has long had a reputation as being quite boring, if a somewhat cheaper place to live. However, while it may be damming with faint praise, it can also be said that “it’s gotten better” over the years. Let’s see if that’s the case . . .
But bars and more interesting—or, at least, non-chain restaurants—are slowly coming to the neighborhood. And while there’s a number of chain restaurants too, dining options in Crystal City aren’t as bad as they used to be.
But if one goes a few blocks away. onto 23rd street, you can find Crystal City’s “restaurant row” where, despite the mid-century brutalism-dominated business district nearby, an incredibly diverse set of dining options line both sides of the street.
Into the Yard
Located between Crystal City and Alexandria, the Potomac Yards has been one of the fastest developing neighborhoods in the area over the past ten plus years. And unlike so many modern developments that are given faux-industrial names, Potomac Yard was, in fact a railroad yard. Indeed, the Richmond, Fredericksburg & Potomac’s Potomac Yard was, at one point, one of the largest railroad yards on the east coast. But changing traffic patters in the 80s—primarily brought about because Amtrak banned freight traffic on the Northeast Corridor after a horrific crash in 1986—led to the decline of the yard and it was finally closed in 1989. It has been slowly redeveloped ever since. As to how well, well, let’s see . . .
The architecture of the townhouses themselves is much the same—a mishmash of styles thrown together, with some being quite modern and other attempting to echo the rowhouses of DC, right across the river. And yet, everything is too sharp, too new.
Del Rey/North Alexandria
Del Rey is an old neighborhood and one that used to co-exist with the Yard. As such, it has a much more organic feel as opposed to all of the new construction going up on the other side of Route 1. I only skimmed along the outskirts of it as I didn’t have time to detour in further—a place to investigate on another day.
Batting practice had just wrapped up on Eugene Simpson field (the location of the 2017 Congressional Baseball Team shooting) but pickup basketball was going strong. I don’t know about you, but if there’s an older guy with grey in his beard and wearing blue jeans at the basketball court, I want no part of him.
Old Town Alexandria
Alexandria is rich with history, dating back to colonial times and with many extant buildings from that era still standing. And even in the “newer’ parts of the city, old, picturesque row houses dominate. And yet, not everything is as it looks in the postcards . . .
I think when people think of Old Town Alexandria, they think of the photos above . . .
. . . but Alexandria still has plenty of this:
And you can go from looking at something like this:
To looking at this:
Final Thoughts
One thing that Arnade discusses—and which I’m increasingly aware of—is the aspect of “community.” And I don’t want to extrapolate too much from one walk on a random Saturday in February but I didn’t see much of it, at least outside of Del Rey and some of the more touristy parts of Old Town. I know that I said this essay was focused more on the built environment but, honestly, other than a number of joggers, I simply didn’t see many people out and about, at least until I got to Old Town.
One thing that may strike the viewer—indeed it struck me—was how artificial so much of this felt. Northern Virginia is known for being overwhelmingly a community of transients as people come and go, in and out of government and government-adjacent jobs. Yet, it raises the question: is this environment built out in such a way to accommodate transients . . . or to encourage them?
I’ll be honest in that I did this walk, in part to satisfy my own curiosity about “what’s out there” but also to serve as a somewhat rebuttal to Arnade in that I thought there was more of a community here to show. And while there is some in parts—restaurant row on 23rd st., Del Rey, etc.—there’s no denying that the area is overwhelming one of lawyer dorms and other new construction.
Something for me to contemplate given my own interests in urbanism, architecture, and the nature of the modern American community.