In neighborhood beefs, they bring the muscle

Nancy Schwartz Bloom's modest proposal was a hit when she posted it on her neighborhood e-mail group list in Glen Echo. The idea: Open a small, high-end market in the Sycamore Store, an unoccupied building at MacArthur Boulevard and Walhonding Road that had served for decades as the local grocery shop.

The reaction: More than a dozen you-go-girl missives piled up, with no dissents. Participants were soon marveling at the rare surge of neighborhood unity. "Within 20 minutes, everybody was like, hell, yeah," resident John Weaver said.

Then came the response from former White House press secretary Ron Nessen, who lives within sight of the store in Montgomery County: "We have retained a lawyer highly experienced in such cases. He is gearing up to defeat your effort. I assume you have hired a lawyer to represent you in what will be a long, nasty, and expensive zoning battle."

Astonished to suddenly find herself threatened with legal action by a man she remembered seeing standing at the White House podium, Bloom was experiencing a classic only-in-Washington moment: A neighborhood scrap balloons when a boldface name from the area's political and media castes bursts into the fray.

There's a rich tradition of the mighty, or once mighty, intervening in neighborhood squabbles. Former ABC News anchorman Ted Koppel sued over the size of houses being built near his Potomac estate, and Sen. Max Baucus (D-Mont.) lined up against a proposal to pave over old trolley tracks near his Georgetown home.

"It's something that happens more here than in other cities," said Phil Feola, a Washington real estate lawyer who handles fractious neighborhood disputes. "We probably have a higher number of VIPs per capita, and between the members of Congress, their chiefs of staff, the big media organizations and the ambassadors of the world, it can make it interesting."

NAACP Chairman Julian Bond appeared at a public meeting to oppose nighttime baseball lights at a park near his house in Chevy Chase.

And in an ongoing dispute over whether to build a Wal-Mart at the entrance to Wilderness Battlefield National Park near Fredericksburg, the pro side has support from former attorney general Edwin Meese. Opponents hope they can trump politics with star power in actor Robert Duvall.

Bigwigs don't always win

In Glen Echo, Nessen's e-mail instantly heated up the discussion, residents said, with critiques of his bigfoot tone mixing with musings over his role in the Ford White House.

Nessen said he was not trying to leverage his political heft when he sent his message, which made no mention of his résumé. In fact, whatever influence he had as a White House spokesman who once appeared on "Saturday Night Live" has long since evaporated, he said.

"If you're younger than about 50, you might not even remember President Ford," said Nessen, a former NBC News correspondent who is a resident journalist at the Brookings Institution.

Bigwigs don't automatically prevail in such squabbles. But development lawyers and zoning officials say big names often unleash the same hardball tactics that made them successful in much fiercer arenas, including hair-trigger lawyering and sophisticated message management.