For most people, Washington, DC, is a place to visit, perhaps on a school trip. Every American should certainly visit their nation’s capital at least once. Despite all the well-earned negativity you hear about the place, I expect most Americans’ hearts fill with pride as they visit the “city of monuments.” Our great democracy is celebrated in stone, if not always practiced in a recognizable fashion by our elected leaders.

At the very least, Washington is a photogenic city--particularly during its early and glorious springtime.

For me, Washington was home for twenty-two years. I’d never visited the city growing up. I remember how discombobulated we were driving into DC at night, after coming from Chicago. We actually thought the White House was the Capitol. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before I knew my way around--in more ways than merely by Metro or cab.

I built my career in Washington. I learned about politics, met and reported on world-renowned people including Mother Teresa, Princess Diana and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. I made many friends. I loved and lost and loved some more. Over the course of the fifteen years before I left DC in 2007, I rented, then bought and renovated a 1924 condo on Florida Avenue NW. I called the area the “tattered fringe” of the posh Kalorama neighborhood--four blocks from the Dupont Circle Metro station, around the corner from the cafes and coffeehouses of always-buzzing Adams-Morgan.

Here are photos taken over several years. I’ve tried to show sides of Washington life visitors don’t usually see. There are a few photos from the annual Miss Adams-Morgan (drag) Pageant, a highlight of the social calendar for many gay people. There are photos of memorials to the armed forces and major wars. And there are a few taken within my own home.