Dream city : race, power, and the decline of Washington, D.C.
(Book)

Dream City has the strengths and weaknesses of its journalist-authors' approach to this enormously complex story. As a tale of the rise and fall (and restoration?) of Marion S. Barry Jr.--from civil rights organizer to capital-city mayor and national political figure to drug sting and jail and then back to Washington's City Council--Jaffe and Sherwood's reporting is solidly involving. An initial chapter on colonial control of the District by congressional committees until the first limited steps toward home rule in the late 1960s, a final chapter on the flaws of the mayoral administration that succeeded Barry's, and discussion throughout of the role of the city's white business leaders (particularly real-estate developers), of the impact of color and class distinctions within the city's African American community, and of the effects of drugs and drug-related crime provide essential context. Still, Dream City is journalism, not history: fascinating as Jaffe and Sherwood's lively narrative is, readers will need to wait for other authors to probe Washington, D.C.'s recent history with more precise instruments. ~--Mary Carroll

Elected mayor of Washington, D.C., in 1978, sharecropper's son Marion Barry Jr., a leading civil rights activist, began a descent into cocaine and alcohol addiction and demagoguery that mirrored the racially polarized city's decline. Jaffe, an editor of Washingtonian magazine, and WRC-TV political reporter Sherwood suggest that nearly two centuries of congressional domination of the capital, disenfranchisement and white racism have stunted local political traditions in Washington, creating a vacuum filled by power broker Barry. They blame the former mayor (sentenced in 1990 to six months in jail after a drug bust) for whipping up racial animosity, setting whites against blacks and scuttling a prime opportunity for advancing racial harmony. Their chronicle of the dream city turned urban nightmare sweeps from the riots following the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., in 1968, and the real estate boom and crack epidemic of the 1980s to the beleaguered administration of Barry's successor, Sharon Pratt Kelly. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Journalists Jaffe and Sherwood, long-time Washington, D.C., residents, have covered that city's politics for many years. Their book is based on interviews with over 200 people (but not former mayor Marion Barry) and a variety of other sources, including congressional hearings and reports, police and court records, and journalistic accounts. While the book traces the history of the city from the Civil War to the present, its central reference point is the 1992 murder of Tom Barnes, a young intern for Alabama senator Richard Shelby, a few blocks from the Capitol and the racial turmoil that arose when the senator questioned the ability of the largely African American government to run the city. Tracing former mayor Barry's career from his civil rights activism to his drug conviction, the authors provide a highly unflattering portrait of his weaknesses for sex, drugs, and political corruption. For them, Barry symbolizes both the tension between civil rights activists and Washington's African American middle class and the promise and subsequent failure of the social programs of the 1960s. Of interest to scholars of civil rights history, urban history, and political science; recommended for academic and larger public libraries.-William Waugh Jr., Georgia State Univ., Atlanta (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Two veteran Washington journalists offer a vigorous and resonant portrait of the 30-year decline and polarization of our capital. Jaffe (of Washingtonian magazine) and Sherwood (of WRC-TV, formerly of the Washington Post) tell their story in episodic sketches, covering the city's historic caste system among blacks, the rise of community organizer (and, later, mayor) Marion Barry during the War on Poverty, and the shift of power to blacks after the traumatic 1968 riots. The authors criticize the long-standing federal stranglehold on the district, as well as the Post's ignorance of black Washington, but their major culprit is ``Boss Barry,'' who emerged in his second mayoral term (1982-6) as a betrayer of the biracial coalition that first elected him. Barry's failures were legion: political spoils for a narrow group of adventurers such as profiteer-from-the-homeless Cornelius Pitts; a top aide turned embezzler; a police department in disarray; a downtown that boomed as other neighborhoods crumbled. His defiance of the black bourgeoisie and the white power structure preserved his popularity among blacks, and when he was arrested on drug charges in 1990--an episode recounted in telling detail--his lawyer successfully argued that the government was out to get him. After serving a six-month jail term for one misdemeanor, Barry began a comeback as council member from the city's poorest ward. The authors criticize the current mayor, reformer Sharon Pratt Kelly, as out of touch, and warn that federal receivership for Washington is as likely as full home rule and statehood. Reliance on dialogue-rich scenes sometimes sacrifices depth for drama, but this is a memorable and disturbing reminder of much unfinished urban business.