Bittersweet Goodbye to A D.C. Icon

Carcamo, still affectionately called Mr. Frank by Reeves workers, even brought back the cherrywood counters. Again, the business was a family affair; his wife worked at Reeves, too.

Jeffrey Axelrad, a lawyer at the Justice Department, was one of many government bureaucrats who typically ate two meals a day at Reeves. At breakfast, he chose the toast made from the homemade bread. At lunch, he went for the creamed chicken and biscuits.

In 1992, Axelrad, now an adjunct professor at George Washington University law school, took the plunge, becoming a part owner of Reeves, along with Carcamo and others. He sold his interest in the business last year.

"Some people put money in fancy cars or other crazy things. My fancy splurge was putting money in Reeves," he said.

He liked the idea of it, and the informality. "Probably the only policy we ever had was that we were in favor of nepotism," he said.

Were they ever. His son and daughter spent a summer behind the counter, and Axelrad worked one day every year: the day before Thanksgiving, when the pumpkin pies all but flew out the door.

But time was taking a toll on Reeves. As the years went on, the number of recipes made from scratch declined. There was no more candy counter with hand-dipped chocolate bunnies at Easter. But diners could still count on chicken salads made from roasted hens, yellow-hued homemade mayonnaise and, of course, the strawberry pies, tasting of fresh fruit, topped with a light, lattice crust.

Carcamo retired in 1992 after having a heart attack. After 45 years at Reeves, he never went back.

That might be just as well.

Even devotees, who lined up in the final days to grab a dozen doughnuts or cupcakes, said that something changed in the years before Reeves closed June 8. Crowds thinned, and then one morning in March 2006, Fulwood, the 38-year cook, got a phone call.

"They called me up and told me not to come in no more," she said.

After the fire and the razing of the F Street building, Reeves had been brought back to life twice. Now, even the most faithful doubt it will be back, at least in the city.

Jeffrey Craven, a relative of the current owner, Lillo Glorioso, said that the family had more space than it needed, especially after the restaurant closed more than a year ago, leaving only the bakery. "And we couldn't afford the rent we had," he said.

Attorneys for the building owners said Glorioso owes thousands of dollars in back rent.

Craven said the family is seeking a new location, probably in the suburbs.