People wander around the old cemetery in small knots, taking care not to stumble over a toppled headstone or unexpected dip in the earth. One group pauses before a tombstone featuring a plump Cheshire cat with a mile-wide grin, while a second clusters around a shiny, black accordion monument proclaiming, "Music is the answer." In Mausoleum Row, bees buzz in and out of the hives atop the stone structures, dutifully making honey for packaging under the gift shop's "Rest in Bees" label. And near the chapel, a bevy of workers set tables in preparation for the medieval-themed outdoor wedding reception that will begin in just a few hours.
It's just another day at Congressional Cemetery in Washington, D.C., the busiest, cheeriest burial grounds I've ever seen. Some 20,000 visitors meander through its 35 acres annually, a fraction of the 3 million that flock to Arlington National Cemetery, 7 miles due west. Arlington is a must-see site, for sure. But my mission on a recent trip was to discover lesser-known attractions in our nation's capital. And of the five gems I discovered, Congressional Cemetery, in the Capitol Hill neighborhood, tops the list.
In 1807 — more than 50 years before Arlington's founding — eight locals saw the need for a burial ground in America's fast-growing capital city and created Congressional Cemetery. Over the next two centuries, a wide range of people were interred here, from regular citizens to notables such as Civil War photographer Matthew Brady; John Philip Sousa, conductor of the U.S. Marine Band; J. Edgar Hoover, the first director of the FBI, and more than 75 members of Congress. U.S. Vice President Elbridge Gerry also rests in relative peace here; he signed the Declaration of Independence and, as governor of Massachusetts, consolidated Federalist Party voters into a few newly drawn senatorial districts, resulting in the practice dubbed "gerrymandering."
During the late 20th century, nearly 200 years after Congressional Cemetery's inception, the graveyard fell into disrepair. Grass grew waist-high, tombstones crumbled and unsavory characters moved in. Eventually, local residents joined forces to resurrect the cemetery, by then a National Historic Landmark, mainly through the creation of the K-9 Corps. Under this inventive program, still in existence, locals pay an annual fee to walk their dogs on the grounds off-leash. The constant presence of dogs and their owners keeps away the ne'er-do-wells, while the annual K-9 Corps fees — now coupled with donations, grants, congressional appropriations and proceeds from gravesite sales — provide income to maintain the grounds.
Today, the cemetery is alive and thriving. Visitors can stroll through the grounds daily from dawn to dusk to scope out its intriguing collection of tombs, which come in a variety of styles, materials and forms. Volunteer docents, often wearing shirts proclaiming "We will talk about you after you're gone," give free tours every Saturday from April to October. Themed walking-tour brochures show you where to find the gravesites of FBI agents and prominent members of the LGBT community, among other groups. Every Nov. 6 — Sousa's birthday — the U.S. Marine Band marches to his tomb, plays one or two of his songs, then marches out.
Locals recommend coupling a visit to Congressional Cemetery with a stop at local cafe Ted's Bulletin, where you can purchase homemade Pop Tart-like treats or indulge in a boozy milkshake. Ted's sits one mile from the cemetery and just a block from the Eastern Market Metro (subway) stop.
If all of this sounds like your kind of fun, you'll probably enjoy these four other lesser-known spots.
DEA Museum
Just across the river from all those busy Smithsonian museums, in Arlington, Va., lies a small gem. The free Drug Enforcement Administration Museum, spotlights the problem of drug abuse in the U.S. The compact museum, which can be explored in about an hour, traces the various drug epidemics that swept the U.S., from opium and cocaine in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, to marijuana and psychedelics in the 1960s, to today's prescription opioid crisis.