By Ann Cameron Siegal
Special to The Washington Post
Saturday, December 1, 2001; J01
More than a century of shared history and decades of community activism provide the ties that bind diverse generational, racial and economic groups in rural Boyds in upper Montgomery County.
Two years ago the cornerstone of St. Mark's United Methodist Church was protruding from its usual spot. Behind it, there was a straw-filled cubbyhole cradling a rusted tin can with a red top. Tucked within this time capsule, nestled among 1896 newspapers, were Bibles and memorabilia from two congregations -- the predominantly black St. Mark's and the predominantly white Boyds Presbyterian a half-mile down the road.
"These churches have been in constant fellowship . . . a starting and stopping place for many in this community," said Clarence J. Parks, pastor at St. Mark's.
"Our common cause is to preserve the character of Boyds," said Merritt Ednie, pastor of Boyds Presbyterian for 32 years.
Boyds, named for James Alexander Boyd of Scotland, a contractor for the railroad that made the area accessible to Washingtonians in 1870, represents an era far removed from urbanized Germantown six miles away.
It is a place where newcomers are welcomed with tales from people whose parents and grandparents grew up together, where neighbors roast hot dogs over bonfires in the backyards of 19th century farmhouses, and where almost everyone acknowledges passing cars with a wave of the hand or nod of the head.
It is also a place where residents quickly band together as watchdogs when their territory is threatened. They successfully fought to maintain Boyds' identity by saving their post office, establishing their own credit union, and now stopping unwanted development by seeking a more acceptable alternative.
The 1,800-acre Bardon Property along White Ground Road, one of the largest undeveloped pieces of land in Montgomery County, has long been sought by developers for quarries, landfills and large-scale housing development. Through an active search, residents linked up with Michael D. Rubin, a long-time Maryland developer and avid equestrian, who is working with several land preservation groups to prevent development of the property and establish horse trails.
Although the deal has not closed, Boyds is rejoicing over the creation of another buffer against the approaching wave of suburbia.
The first buffer was created in 1984 with the construction of a 505-acre reservoir. But the community had to give up part of its heritage in the process, allowing part of James Boyd's farm to be flooded by what is now called Little Seneca Lake.
The county master plan protects an area with a radius of about two miles extending out from Boyds's historic district, including 600 homes on a mix of horse farms and pastures. "An occasional individual house might be built, but that's all," said community association President Jim McDaniel.
The historic heart of Boyds, near the intersection of state routes 117 and 121, includes the two churches, a general store, an antiques shop, a MARC train station, a smattering of historic houses and the old Boyds Negro School.
Preservationists have worked hard to protect the 22-by-30-foot wooden, one-room building built of "impossible to paint" Virginia jack pine. It housed students in grades one through eight from 1895 to 1936.
Louise Hebron not only attended school there but also lived in the building during the short time it was a private residence in the 1950s.
She and fellow St. Mark's members Bernice Turner Clipper, Mary Naylor and Virginia Plummer vividly recall teacher Lillian Giles, who was like a parent to them during elementary school, even having permission to spank.
It was customary for the older children to bring younger siblings to class while parents worked surrounding farms. Clipper remembers at the age of 3 "combing Miss Giles's hair while sitting on her lap during class."
Clipper, now 78, and a favorite neighborhood babysitter, said, "You know what keeps me here? It's all the love."
"There's no better place to live," said Arthur Virtz, 73, a lifelong resident who spent 31 years delivering the community's mail and who started the community association in 1965 to help save the Boyds post office.
Rufus Gilliam, 92, and his wife, Flora, bought their 1909 farmhouse 53 years ago. After raising beef cattle in North Carolina, Gilliam wanted to run a dairy farm. "Everyone told me I was making a mistake, and they were right about the cows -- but not about the community," he said.
Young families are moving into Boyds, several continuing family connections to the community. Duane and Bonnie Emmet, who have three young children, are restoring the 1878 farmhouse that belonged to his great aunt and uncle. Gene and Tracy Ahalt say that their son, Evan, 5, is the fourth generation in their home.
When some residents leave, a part of the community goes with them. Pastor Ednie recalled a young entrepreneur who became his neighbor in 1979. Gary Lowenthal used what is now Ednie's church office as a warehouse for his line of gnome houses and painted decoys.
One day Lowenthal invited the pastor to join him in a new business venture. After listening to the idea, Ednie recalled saying, "Gary, I'm not leaving the ministry for teddy bears. . . . Just how many little stuffed bears can you sell?"
The answer came several years later, after Lowenthal had moved to Gettysburg, Pa., and made Boyds Bears famous.
"Lots," he told Ednie with a grin.
While Ednie is delighted with his former neighbor's success, he said he has no regrets. "I'm right where I want to be -- in a small community with a big heart."
