A Sign of Gratitude in Anacostia

Section of Street Is Renamed to Honor Community Activist

For more than 30 years until his death in 2000, Calvin Woodland devoted himself to the children of his struggling Anacostia neighborhood with missionary zeal, founding sports teams to keep them out of trouble, rustling up money for their families in times of crisis and welcoming the hardest cases into his own home.

Yesterday, District officials showed their appreciation by renaming the street where he lived: The 2500 block of Hartford Street SE will be known henceforth as Calvin B. Woodland Sr. Place.

"This is the city saying, 'We understand what is important in D.C.' . . . This was a man who gave everything he had to lift up this community," D.C. Council Chairman Vincent C. Gray (D) said at a ceremony attended by council members Jim Graham (D-Ward 1), Carol Schwartz (R-At Large) and Marion Barry (D-Ward 8).

Among the more than 100 people in attendance were residents of the drab, brick apartment buildings lining the street and beneficiaries of the Calvin Woodland Sr. Foundation, a nonprofit organization headed by Woodland's son Calvin Jr. that has helped dozens of men and women find jobs.

Many more were family friends who moved out of the neighborhood long ago, such as Marvin Dandy, a counselor in the District school system who lived next to the Woodlands as a boy.

"Calvin Woodland Sr. was like another father to me," said Dandy, 39, whose own father fell into drug addiction for a time. "When we didn't have food to eat, [Woodland] would bring us food. When my father came home late, [Woodland would] check in on us to make sure we were okay."

Woodland's daughter Freddie Woodland, 45, said it was impossible to count how many lives her father touched before he died of a stroke at age 60.

"He was always taking care of someone," she said. "We would go to bed, and the next morning there'd be two or three kids on our couch."

A former professional boxer, Woodland went through several bouts of unemployment before landing a series of jobs with the city. But he never gave up his mentoring: cajoling local businesses into funding a steady stream of activities including street festivals, an annual "Olympics" competition, a makeshift boxing ring and an intramural football team called the Woodland Raiders that attracted national attention when it went largely undefeated in games against Boys Club and Little League teams for a period in the 1980s.

"Every young guy wanted to be a Raider, and every young girl wanted to be a Raider cheerleader," recalled Karen McConnell-Jones, 42, who owns a hair salon. Woodland "made life fun for us."

More importantly, she said, Woodland helped stave off the drug-related violence that engulfed Anacostia in the 1980s. As pugnacious as he was caring, Woodland often clashed with drug dealers and was once shot in the knee during a confrontation.

Woodland also took a tough line with neighborhood children. Reggie Steele, 49, a radio DJ, recalled how Woodland once caught him playing hooky. "He'd pick you up in his Cadillac and make you go into that school," he said.

Woodland used the kids' enthusiasm for the Raiders as a tool to keep them in line, refusing to let them play unless they stayed in school and "got your grades tight," said a former player, Edward Newby, 46.

A few succumbed to the lure of drug dealing anyway, including Woodland's oldest son, who racked up 38 criminal charges.

But the junior Woodland credits the discipline and love his father instilled in him with ultimately helping him turn his life around.

"When I was ready to change, I was able to draw on everything he had given me," said the younger Woodland, now deputy chief of staff to Graham. "He was my source of strength."