D.C. Developer Sways the City With Big Bucks and Big Ideas

Miller Aims to Build Near Nationals Park

Herbert S. Miller, second from right, took in the Washington Nationals' July 8 home game with D.C. Council member Jack Evans (D-Ward 2), left, Nationals President Stan Kasten and William N. Hall of the D.C. Sports and Entertainment Commission. (Missy Hall)

Developer Herbert S. Miller boasts that he can thank a taxi driver in any of 55 languages. He lives in a 28,000-square-foot Georgetown mansion with spiral staircases, two pools, a spa and a gym. He has developed an energy plan that he says could change the way Americans live.

Miller, 63, speaks eloquently, lives large and thinks big, which is why friends, colleagues and even some competitors call him a visionary whose ideas lead him places where others won't go or can't get to. Potomac Mills, Washington Harbor and Gallery Place are among his signature achievements.

This summer, Miller has worked his way into a key role in the biggest project in town: the construction of an entertainment district near the planned Washington Nationals baseball stadium in Southeast Washington.

Unlike other developers who purchased land near the ballpark site, Miller came to the table with nothing but some rolled-up diagrams and his formidable personality. And he's on the verge of walking away with approval for a $300 million development on city-owned land just beyond the outfield wall.

This month, Mayor Anthony A. Williams (D) and the D.C. Council, hoping Miller can realize their dream of remaking a neglected part of town, endorsed his plan to build shops, restaurants, condos and a luxury hotel around two parking garages.

"He did have an aggressive vision that set him apart from a lot of folks," said Stephen Goldsmith, chairman of the Anacostia Waterfront Corp., chartered by Williams to oversee the development.

In particular, Goldsmith said, Miller won points for including retail on the first floor of the complex. "Some thought he was too aggressive, but nevertheless he's visionary. . . . He's here by the force of his vision and energy."

Yet as Miller scrambles to secure financing and develop specific designs for his two 13-story towers, he's facing stiff opposition from the family of Bethesda developer Theodore N. Lerner, the owners of the Nationals. That family's hermetic approach and relentless attention to detail clash mightily with the more flamboyant Miller.

The Lerner group has lobbied heavily against Miller's involvement, saying it fears his project is too ambitious to complete by the time the ballpark is scheduled to open in April 2008. The District's chief financial officer agrees. In private, the Lerner group refers to Miller's twin towers as "Mothra" and "Godzilla."

"The proposal will not work for many reasons," Stan Kasten, the Nationals' new president, wrote to the council this month. "But most important, it has the potential to cause considerable damage."

The Lerner group's position irritates the usually garrulous Miller. It has been a stressful month for Miller, who raced home two weeks ago after a gruesome slaying on the driveway of his mansion. Assailants slashed the throat of Alan Senitt, a British activist who was accompanying home a woman who formerly worked for Miller and lives in a basement apartment of Miller's home.

Sitting in the Georgetown office of his 12-person company, Western Development Corp., flanked by his son Ben Miller, 30, and business partner Jair Lynch, a former Olympic gymnast, Herbert Miller dug his fingers tightly into the sides of an armchair and grimaced.