A rumor has been circulating that I may have relocated to the other "Other Washington," the one signified by the letters "D.C.," that is, the District of Columbia. Okay, mostly true. I'll explain in a minute.
Leaving Washington for Washington, among other things, raises some trivial curiosities of nomenclature. The two Washingtons, of course, are rooted in the same genetic source material, the same numero uno presidente of these United States, none other than the cherry tree guy, George. So, Washington = Washington, more or less. One's a state, the other a district, whatever. The naming convention isn't complicated.
But the state of Washington might originally have been called the state of Columbia. "Columbia" was the name proposed for a new territory in 1852 that would displace most of the northern half of the Oregon Territory, freshly christened by Congress only four years before. Coincidentally, the territory campaign happened at almost precisely the same time that the son of a black slave named George Washington settled along the Skookumchuck River. George later donated land for parks, a church and a cemetery in the city he founded there, Centerville, which was later renamed Centralia. In 1853, Congress agreed to establish the bustling new territory, but a Kentucky Congressman, Richard Stanton, shunned the name "Columbia," in favor of naming it after the popular first president. And so it would be.
A goodly chunk of the remaining Oregon Territory achieved statehood in 1859, and over the next three decades promoters in Washington Territory pursued a comparable dream. Some harkened back to the earlier romance and insisted the new state be called Columbia. Others suggested the State of Tacoma had a special ring.
Some wanted no state at all, including many Democrats in Congress, who had agreed to statehood for Colorado in 1876, only to see its three electoral college votes in the presidential election later that year cast for Republican Rutherford B. Hayes, thereby turning one of the most controversial elections in U.S. history. Democrat Samuel Tilden, who won the popular vote by a solid margin, would have otherwise become president. The wounds would heal, however, and in 1889, the spirit of George would be forever emblazoned upon the nation's 42nd state.
As far as I can gather, the District of Columbia has scarely anything in common with the territory of Columbia, nor the really big river--biggest on the West Coast of North America--that some of us Left Coasters may be a tad better acquainted with than the famously infamous district way out yonder.
Nor does the name, Columbia, share much of a story with that sprawling province of a neighboring country up north, the ginormous spectacle of an almost sub-continent-sized place with the shortest possible nickname: B.C. As if to one-up the Americans (Congressman Stanton in particular), Queen Victoria announced in 1858 that the name British Columbia would make a fine moniker for the distant province, even if it was now quite removed from the lion's share of the great river that the Brits had once laid claim to.
The river Columbia--and come to think of it, that is a nice sounding quartet of syllables--won its name from a ship, the Columbia Rediviva, in May 1792, when American furtrader Robert Gray doubled-dog-dared the standing waves of the Columbia River bar and heeled his way into the river's mouth. For a time, Rediviva was tendered by the Lady Washington, a 90-ton sloop named for the wife of, well, George, the namesake of the two Washingtons.
A few leagues up the mountainously walled river, one can now enjoy a weekend getaway to the tiny city of George, Washington. George, being on the gorge, was named and founded on the Fourth of July by a balding fellow named Charlie Brown. George is presently renowned as the scenic venue for big-ticket concerts located within just a few skips and furls of the stars and stripes above the venerable Columbia River.
Cap'n Gray would have missed all that, since he hardly got his ship inside the river's gaping mouth. His Rediviva was built near Boston, in the shipbuilding mecca of Norbell, Massachusetts, in 1773, the same year the British Parliament granted its closest admirers a monopoly on East India tea. And the rest is history--our own, of course. Columbia Rediviva was named for, yes, the penultimately famous sea captain and Admiral of the Ocean Sea, the trinket-trader guy, Christopher Columbus.
So Columbia the River was named for a ship that was named for an admiral. Columbia the District, not too surprisingly, but in a roundabout way, has a similar genealogical root.
Washington, D.C. is a district because the United States Constitution endows it as such in Section 8, right after the militia business. The district, ten miles square, is envisioned as our forefathers' intended nubbin of government, the geopolitical center of a sparkling new republic that was puffed up gloriously now with visions of self-governing Americans drinking all the tea in China, save for what they might sell to the British. But they didn't call their new capital D.C. And they weren't even sure where to build it. The Constitution left that part out.
Not long after whuppin' the red coats into submission at Yorktown, George Washington returned home to Mount Vernon on the Potomac in 1781. He planned to retire there, but was persuaded by his admirers in 1787 to ride to Philadelphia where he would preside over the Constitutional Convention, which by the end of the year succeeded in adopting a bold new supreme law of the land. Not eighteen months later, on April 30, 1789, Washington was sworn in--in New York City--as the first president.
One major task, of course, was to establish a capital. Once the states agreed on a general location, George began the work of acquiring properties along the Potomac River between and among the fledgling cities of Alexandria and Georgetown. The latter, founded in 1751, predated the president's rise to fame and was apparently named for its founders, two fellows both named George. A second theory is that they named the town for King George II, whose son would later lose the American War of Independence.
Washington's work to define a district led to the creation of the new capital city in 1791, the City of Washington, which indeed was named for its best known servant. Eighty years later, Congress subsumed the Cities of Georgetown and Washington, plus Washington County into a new District of Columbia, which even today is the official name of the American capital. But if you had family or friends in Washington City or Washington County in 1891 and you wanted to send them a package, then, by George, you would send your package to Washington. Just to be safe, you might follow with a comma and the letters D.C. or perhaps the words District of Columbia. Soon, everyone came to know the place as Washington-comma-D.C., even if it doesn't officially exist.
Despite the endless growing pains to be experienced by a new nation, an important common denominator among its denizens was the notion that America was a great land. It was even more than America, it was Columbia, a heroically symbolic name that gave nearly everyone the warm fuzzies. In those years, the term Columbia was as patriotic and empowering as the word America is today.
So here I sit, as immersed in the namesake memories of Christopher and George as I was before I left the West Coast at the end of January. Both their names and their contributions to history have become ubiquitous in American culture and geography, and both have wielded great influence well beyond the borders of America the North. Most of us continue to regard them in a supremely dignified class, somewhat above the status of, say, a Stephen Colbert or the Big Lebowski.
I have to admit, though, that the memory of George Washington seriously permeates this place and you can almost sense the man's presence from day to day. It's an interesting city of amazing architecture and rich history, with much to explore and discover, and not all of it scholarly, political or historic. The cherry trees are just beginning to bloom, and I'm eager to extend my trail time beyond Rock Creek Park and the Capital Mall to the Great Falls of the Potomac and beyond to the Shenandoah, the Chesapeake, and warming beaches of the Atlantic.
It's been suggested that I share a few of my experiences and observations with the folks back home, which is what this blog's about.
I said I would explain about my sudden relocation here. Let's just say I had a great job opportunity come up (as a recreation planner) and couldn't pass it up. The work is nothing special to write about, but hopefully I'll find a few adventures that are. Come to think of it, I already have. I'll try to bring things up to date over the next few installments. Join the blog, if you like. I'd enjoy the conversation.
May your travels be emphatically skookum.
Ken
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