A Bittersweet Renaissance

"Pick it up," Brodgins said, shaking his head.

On another afternoon, a new neighbor walked past with his E-Z Reacher, a claw he uses on rounds to pick up crumpled cigarette packets, beer bottles, newspapers and other trash.

"It's probably a lot cleaner where he came from," Brodgins muttered.

In fact, it was.

Craig Kujawa, 35, moved to Washington from San Diego and works as a regional director at the Defense Department. As he tries to get a handle on the neighborhood's litter, he thinks about how he comes across to black residents.

"I wonder if they resent what I'm doing," he said, wearing yellow gloves as he picked up trash. "I wonder if they think, 'If you don't like our dirty neighborhood, why did you move in here in the first place?' "

He bought his two-bedroom apartment, he said, because it was larger and more affordable than those he saw in such places as Logan Circle. He also figured its value would grow.

He was aware he was moving into a black neighborhood, but he didn't view his decision in larger, historical terms. He was just looking for a place to live. "I'm a grain of sand," he said, leaning against his stainless steel stove in a kitchen lined with new wooden cabinets. He smiled. "A white grain."

Guardians of History

Will they sell or will they stay?

On a chilly afternoon, Norman Wood stood in front of his childhood home, which has been split into the Berkley condominiums, one listing for $698,000, the other for $475,000.

Such prices, Wood said, do not tempt him. He has devoted himself to Shaw and has attended countless civic meetings, served as an advisory neighborhood commissioner and raised money for the local elementary school. A room there is named in his honor. He has witnessed too much bloodshed to leave now that Shaw has recovered.

But it's not just the present that concerns him, it's the future. He and his wife want to preserve their piece of the neighborhood. In recent years, they summoned their eight adult children to a meeting and announced that they would leave the house to a daughter with the understanding that she hold on to it as long as she could pay the taxes.

A Wood, he said, should always own that house.

"Shaw has the richest history," he said. "The only way for us to maintain that history is to be guardians over it."

On any day that he's feeling good, Moses Lofton has no plans to leave. His time frame shortens when his health falters. One day, he complained of aching knees and said he might sell in the spring. A few days later, he felt better and said he had no intention of fixing a date.

Whatever he decides, and whenever he decides, he said, he hopes an African American is the buyer, if only to evoke the past.

Sonny Brodgins expects to be around, at least as long as his mother is healthy. She has rejected a suggestion to move to a Baltimore suburb where her daughter lives. And, as long as she's on Sixth Street, he will be on the stoop, hanging with his pals as if no time has passed but conscious that it has.

Staff researchers Bobbye Pratt and Meg Smith contributed to this report.