Murder in the village: With no witnesses & little evidence, the mystery of carl diener's death seemed impossible to solve
Tammy Bagnato was about to break the law. It was 5:40 in the morning, just a few days after Christmas 2009, and she was standing outside a ground-level apartment unit at the Fort Strong Properties complex, trying to find a way inside. She had already tried the windows and the sliding-glass door, to no avail.
She called 9-1-1 to warn the Arlington County Police dispatcher that she was ready to break the door down.
“Just stay there. I’ll have someone there right away,” the operator told her.
The apartment, on North Calvert Street in Arlington, was the home of Bagnato’s friend and weekend biking companion, Carl Diener. He had lived there 35 years.
Diener worked at the Arlington Sport & Health on North Kirkwood Road and was known to be punctual. Early birds like Bagnato counted on him to open the health club in the wee hours so they could fit in their workouts before work.
“He was the only person I actually saw every single day of my life,” says Bagnato, now 47, a trim brunette with long hair. “I knew his ways. I told him, ‘If you ever don’t show up, I’m calling the police.’”
On this chilly morning, Bagnato’s words turned out to be prescient.
She had arrived at the gym, only to find the doors locked and the parking lot full of idling cars as members waited for Diener, who was 30 minutes late. Fearing her friend had suffered a medical emergency, she drove the mile and a half to his place. When he didn’t answer, she called the police.
Read more (Arlington Magazine, July/August 2013)
She called 9-1-1 to warn the Arlington County Police dispatcher that she was ready to break the door down.
“Just stay there. I’ll have someone there right away,” the operator told her.
The apartment, on North Calvert Street in Arlington, was the home of Bagnato’s friend and weekend biking companion, Carl Diener. He had lived there 35 years.
Diener worked at the Arlington Sport & Health on North Kirkwood Road and was known to be punctual. Early birds like Bagnato counted on him to open the health club in the wee hours so they could fit in their workouts before work.
“He was the only person I actually saw every single day of my life,” says Bagnato, now 47, a trim brunette with long hair. “I knew his ways. I told him, ‘If you ever don’t show up, I’m calling the police.’”
On this chilly morning, Bagnato’s words turned out to be prescient.
She had arrived at the gym, only to find the doors locked and the parking lot full of idling cars as members waited for Diener, who was 30 minutes late. Fearing her friend had suffered a medical emergency, she drove the mile and a half to his place. When he didn’t answer, she called the police.
Read more (Arlington Magazine, July/August 2013)
Tagging DC History: Collector focuses on City License Plates
When Richard Dragon comes to Washington, he doesn’t mind the traffic. He revels in it. It’s an opportunity, the 50-year-old accountant says, to observe the object he most enjoys acquiring — D.C. license plates — in real time. “That’s one of the things about license plates: There’s always stuff to look at,” he says. “I subconsciously look at every plate.”
Dragon, who lives in Warwick, R.I., has been collecting license plates since he was 8. He estimates he has collected more than 15,000 license plates, with at least 2,000 related to the District. A member of the Automobile License Plate Collectors Association, he visits the D.C. area at least once a year to meet fellow collectors and to do more research on his passion.
Read more (Washington Post Magazine, June 16, 2013)
Dragon, who lives in Warwick, R.I., has been collecting license plates since he was 8. He estimates he has collected more than 15,000 license plates, with at least 2,000 related to the District. A member of the Automobile License Plate Collectors Association, he visits the D.C. area at least once a year to meet fellow collectors and to do more research on his passion.
Read more (Washington Post Magazine, June 16, 2013)
Beehive Buzz: Baltimore's HonFest Celebrates HairDo and More
Sitting in a salon swivel chair, Elliana Fetsko looks at herself in the mirror and nods approvingly at the towering updo hairdresser Sue Ebert has assembled atop her head. “I feel like a princess, hon,” Fetsko says. “I’m a Hon. I’m a queen with my hair like this. This is an art form.” Indeed, the foot-tall beehive is a stunner. It will also be the crux of the 60-year-old’s look when she participates in Baltimore’s HonFest on June 8 and 9 (Between Roland Avenue and 36th Street).
Created by Cafe Hon owner Denise Whiting 20 years ago, the annual festival honors a brash, bold — and beehive donning — Baltimore working-class woman of days gone by. Nicknamed a “Hon,” the larger-than-life female archetype was immortalized in the 1988 John Water’s film “Hairspray,” and later became a Broadway musical.
Read more (Washington Post Magazine, June 2, 2013)
Created by Cafe Hon owner Denise Whiting 20 years ago, the annual festival honors a brash, bold — and beehive donning — Baltimore working-class woman of days gone by. Nicknamed a “Hon,” the larger-than-life female archetype was immortalized in the 1988 John Water’s film “Hairspray,” and later became a Broadway musical.
Read more (Washington Post Magazine, June 2, 2013)
Bell of friendship: In Vienna, garden signifies ties with South Korea
In a metro area packed with monuments and museums, one could
easily miss noteworthy landmarks. Case in point: Last May, the Bell of Peace and Harmony, a three-ton bronze Korean bell,made its debut at the Meadowlark Botanical Gardens (Vienna; 9750 Meadowlark Gardens Ct., 703-255-3631). Many area residents still don’t know about it. That’s an oversight that garden manager Keith Tomlinson wants to rectify. “There are only two of these structures in North America,” he says. “One’s just outside of Los Angeles, and then there’s this one.” A collaboration between the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority and the Korean American Cultural Committee, the bell—and its surrounding 4 1/2 acre garden— signifies a bond of friendship between Americans and South Koreans while emphasizing the natural aesthetic of Korean landscaping. Read more (Washington Post Magazine, May 12, 2013) Maryland museum’s plane never really took off
When it comes to aviation history, the Wright brothers often get all the glory, but plenty of others have tried to make a name for themselves in the field. In the late 1930s, the Engineering and
Research Corp., a Riverdale aircraft company, developed an atypical recreational airplane called the Ercoupe. Designer Fred Weick envisioned a single-engine plane anyone could fly. “He developed this plane that is controlled with hand controls, like a steering wheel,” says Tiffany Davis, curator of collections at the College Park Aviation Museum. The museum (1985 Corporal Frank Scott Dr., 301-864-6029) com) has two Ercoupes on display (one is cut in half to give visitors a peek at the interior). Read more (Washington Post Magazine, April 21, 2013) |
From grain to glass: A look at Catoctin Creek’s distillery
Scott Harris wants the reporter to put away her pen and run her finger through clear liquid streaming from a small spout. “You really should taste it. ...” says Harris, co-owner of Catoctin Creek Distilling Co. in Purcellville. “That’s apple brandy before it’s been aged in a barrel. Basically apple moonshine.”
This libation is an experiment for Harris and hiswife, Becky, who opened the distillery (37251-C E. Richardson Lane, 540-751-8404) in 2009. “If this brandy turns out really nice,maybe it’s something we’ll keep doing,” he says. To open their distillery, Scott, now 42, left a job in computer science, while Becky, now 45, gave up her career as a chemical engineer. It’s a trade-off the pair isn’t second-guessing. Read more (Washington Post Magazine, April 29, 2013) Is eating local really healthier & better for the environment?
Tom Coates pulls out his cellphone to make sure he hasn’t missed any calls. “I need to pick up a steer,” he explains, sliding the phone back in his pocket. He’s waiting for a ring from Milcreek Farm in Lovettsville, Va. Once notified, he’ll drive approximately 50 miles to the farm to pick up 500 pounds of steaks and ground beef.
What’s surprising about Coates’ statement isn’t just what he says. It’s how he says it—with everyday nonchalance—and where he says it—standing in the middle of a 1,400-square-foot mom-and-pop store. As the owner of The Local Market in Falls Church, a shop that sells more than a dozen items from nearby producers—from hummus to fresh pasta—Coates is a present-day ambassador of the locavore movement. It’s been seven years since the debut of The Omnivore’s Dilemma, in which author Michael Pollan gave Americans an unflinching gut check on where our food comes from; and six years since the word locavore (a person who aims to eat locally produced food) was named word of the year by the Oxford American Dictionary. Read more (Arlington Magazine, May/June 2013) |
