In 1906, four Black entrepreneurs acquired land in Friendship Heights with a plan to develop an upscale suburb: “a Chevy Chase for Black people,” according to historian and attorney Kim Bender, one of the people behind an effort to document and commemorate the project’s history. It’s not a happy story. After news came out about the plan, the developers—Alexander Satterwhite, Michel Dumas, James Neill, and Charles Cuney—faced protests and death threats from some white neighbors. Even so, they made deals with at least 28 would-be homeowners. But the Chevy Chase Land Company, which owned the area, refused to complete the transactions, and the plan fell apart. Belmont, as it would have been called, never happened. Today, the site is occupied by Saks Fifth Avenue and other high-end stores. The full story of Belmont was lost for decades, until architect and local historian Neil Flanagan learned new information about it while working on another project. He soon realized the story was complicated and significant, and he was intrigued by a 1906 front-page Washington Times story and some other sources. So he enlisted Bender, who runs DC’s Heurich House Museum, to help investigate. After digging through newspaper archives, court records, and other archival materials to corroborate news accounts from the time, Flanagan and Bender presented their findings at the annual Montgomery County History Conference. They also connected with some descendants of the Belmont developers, including Falani Spivey, a great-niece of Satterwhite’s who reached out after watching their self-produced YouTube video. The whole story was “hidden on purpose,” says Spivey, a filmmaker who’s working on a documentary about her family history. “[Belmont] could have flourished into a prominent, high-end Black community. It’s upsetting when these stories are shoved under the rug.” Maryland Roadside Historical Marker on Belmont. In September, Bender and Flanagan gathered with state officials, community members, and some of the developers’ descendants to unveil a Maryland Roadside Historical Marker that recounts Belmont’s story. The plaque—later installed in its permanent location outside the Heights food hall—points out that “Belmont exemplified the ambition of Washington’s early-20th century Black community and foreshadowed the coming struggle over housing segregation.” The marker isn’t far from the current office of the still-operating Chevy Chase Land Company. When asked about these events from more than a century ago, John Ziegenhein, its president and CEO, said that today’s iteration of the business believes “in the importance of transparency regarding the actions taken at Belmont. More importantly, we must ensure those actions are never repeated.” In 1906, four Black entrepreneurs acquired land in Friendship Heights with a plan to develop an upscale suburb: “a Chevy Chase for Black people,” according to historian and attorney Kim Bender, one of the people behind an effort to document and commemorate the project’s history. It’s not a happy story. After news came out about the plan, the developers—Alexander Satterwhite, Michel Dumas, James Neill, and Charles Cuney—faced protests and death threats from some white neighbors. Even so, they made deals with at least 28 would-be homeowners. But the Chevy Chase Land Company, which owned the area, refused to complete the transactions, and the plan fell apart. Belmont, as it would have been called, never happened. Today, the site is occupied by Saks Fifth Avenue and other high-end stores.The full story of Belmont was lost for decades, until architect and local historian Neil Flanagan learned new information about it while working on another project. He soon realized the story was complicated and significant, and he was intrigued by a 1906 front-page Washington Times story and some other sources. So he enlisted Bender, who runs DC’s Heurich House Museum, to help investigate. After digging through newspaper archives, court records, and other archival materials to corroborate news accounts from the time, Flanagan and Bender presented their findings at the annual Montgomery County History Conference. They also connected with some descendants of the Belmont developers, including Falani Spivey, a great-niece of Satterwhite’s who reached out after watching their self-produced YouTube video. The whole story was “hidden on purpose,” says Spivey, a filmmaker who’s working on a documentary about her family history. “[Belmont] could have flourished into a prominent, high-end Black community. It’s upsetting when these stories are shoved under the rug.” In September, Bender and Flanagan gathered with state officials, community members, and some of the developers’ descendants to unveil a Maryland Roadside Historical Marker that recounts Belmont’s story. The plaque—later installed in its permanent location outside the Heights food hall—points out that “Belmont exemplified the ambition of Washington’s early-20th century Black community and foreshadowed the coming struggle over housing segregation.” Maryland Roadside Historical Marker on Belmont. Photograph by Amy Bender. The marker isn’t far from the current office of the still-operating Chevy Chase Land Company. When asked about these events from more than a century ago, John Ziegenhein, its president and CEO, said that today’s iteration of the business believes “in the importance of transparency regarding the actions taken at Belmont. More importantly, we must ensure those actions are never repeated.” This article appears in the November 2024 issue of Washingtonian. The post The Lost History of a DC Black Neighborhood That Was Never Built first appeared on Washingtonian.