The Watergate is probably one of the most recognized names for an office complex in the country, if not the world. I was wondering if the complex took its name from the floating bandstand that was once anchored on the Potomac. I remember going to concerts there in the 1950s and sitting on the steps, which doubled as seats and are still there today.
Steve Berto, Annandale
Washington Post columnist John Kelly is raising money for the Children's National Medical Center, one of the nation's leading pediatric hospitals. You may make a tax-deductible contribution online anytime between Nov. 29th and Jan. 21st. Thank you for your support.
_____By John Kelly_____
Into the Mouths of Babes (The Washington Post, Dec 17, 2004)
A Sister Steps Up to Help (The Washington Post, Dec 16, 2004)
A Puzzle in the Shape of a Girl (The Washington Post, Dec 15, 2004)
For One Little Boy, a Shot at Normal (The Washington Post, Dec 14, 2004)
John Kelly's Washington Live (Live Online, Dec 3, 2004)
John Kelly's Washington Live (Live Online, Nov 19, 2004)
John Kelly's Washington Live (Live Online, Nov 12, 2004)
When most of us think of Watergate today, we think of a bungled break-in, a crooked president, Woodward and Bernstein, Deep Throat, and Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford in neckties as wide as tablecloths.
But if you'd asked a Washingtonian in 1936 about Watergate, he would have said, "Don't you mean Water Gate, bub?"
And you would have said, "Who you calling 'bub'?"
And it would have gone downhill from there.
Here's the story: When construction began on Arlington Memorial Bridge in 1926, plans included a curved set of steps leading down to the Potomac on the Washington side. This was envisioned as a ceremonial entrance to the city, where VIPs could arrive by barge. It would also, The Post reported at the time, "afford a landing place for small boats."
Answer Man supposes that VIPs could have arrived there by barge, but the spot's real virtue was recognized in 1935, two years after bridge construction was completed. As the sun was setting on July 14 of that year, the road that hugged the river was closed to traffic. People found seats on the 40 stone steps that marched up toward the Lincoln Memorial or took their places on folding chairs that had been set up in the roadway. Opposite the audience, on a barge that had been rented from the Navy Department, the musicians of the National Symphony Orchestra, under the direction of Hans Kindler, tuned their instruments. The program opened with Wagner and closed with Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture."
These "Sunset Symphonies" caught on in a big way. The National Park Service, sponsor of the concerts, estimated that by 1946, 2 million people had attended performances at what became known as the Water Gate. The NSO was a fixture. So were Army, Navy, Marine Corps and Army Air Forces bands. Frank Sinatra and Paul Robeson appeared there.
A more elaborate barge, built at a cost of $75,000, was unveiled for the 1948 season. It was a gleaming white structure, rectilinear, like a square hatbox. In fact, it looked a bit like the Kennedy Center.
All in all, a lovely way to spend a summer evening in Washington.
But is it how the famed Watergate office-hotel-condo complex got its name? There are a few other theories. Rock Creek spills into the Potomac just upriver from the present Watergate buildings. Not too far away are the remains of the first lock that raised and lowered boats on the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal. (Or the last lock, depending on the direction you were coming from.) A lock is, quite literally, a water gate.
But Answer Man is skeptical that the imposing Watergate complex, designed by Luigi Moretti, was named after the shattered remains of a failed canal.
Nor does he think it was named after a restaurant called the Water Gate Inn, which stood on the banks of the Potomac at the extreme western end of F Street. Owned by Marjory Hendricks, who also ran the Normandy Farm Inn in Potomac, the Water Gate Inn was a popular establishment that served Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine. It opened in 1942 in an old riding academy and was demolished in 1966 to make way for construction of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.
Answer Man believes that both the restaurant and the office complex (which, incidentally, was originally going to be called "Watergate Towne") took their names from the 40 steps that were the site of annual concerts.
The concerts ended in 1965, when jet planes screaming down the river to land at National Airport made it hard to hear the music. The barge was towed away while members of the service bands played taps on their trumpets.
It must have been nice while it lasted, though. As one writer soliloquized during World War II: "At the water's edge, hearing the tiny waves rippling at the bank in pauses of the music, looking toward the misty blue of the Virginia shore, feeling the relief of a breeze, relaxing taut nerves with music, the people found the strength to meet another humid, crowded day."
Two weeks under our belt; six weeks to go. One-fourth of the way there, time-wise, but only one-twelfth of the way there, money-wise. It's time to light the afterburner on our Children's Hospital campaign.
A gift of any size -- from $10 to $1,000 -- will speed us toward our goal of $600,000 by Jan. 21. So far, we've raised $55,035.29. Here's how to contribute:
Make a check or money order payable to "Children's Hospital" and mail it to Washington Post Campaign, P.O. Box 17390, Baltimore, Md. 21297-1390.
To contribute by credit card online, go to www.washingtonpost.com/childrenshospital and click on "Make a Donation." You'll be greeted by a pop-up that takes you right to the donation page.
To contribute by Visa or MasterCard by phone, call Post-Haste at 301-313-2200, then punch in KIDS and follow the instructions.
My assistant, Julie Feldmeier, helped research this column. Curious about some aspect of some thing about some part of Washington? Write firstname.lastname@example.org.