A few years ago I was reporting a story about two vice cops who had been busting dope rings in Southwest D.C. I wound up spending too much time in 1 D substation, the first district police installation between Capitol Hill and the Potomac River. It was grungy — real grungy. Cracked linoleum floors, dimly lit corridors, broken vending machines.
One day I showed up and the place looked like a brand new Holiday Inn. The floors had been resurfaced and all the walls had a fresh coat of paint. Even the vending machines worked. I asked one of the sergeants what happened. “Abe Pollin heard how bad things were for us,” he said, “and he paid for the renovation.”
You might not have heard about Pollin’s gift to the cops. He didn’t put out a press release. He didn’t ask for a plaque. Pollin was the kind of benefactor who didn’t need public accolades or adulation: He did stuff because it was the right thing to do.
The headlines announcing the passing of Abe Pollin will note that he owned professional sports franchises, that he was a developer, perhaps that he was a philanthropist. The Abe I knew was an old school businessman who loved his adopted hometown, cut a deal with a handshake, and cared for people in small ways with no need for recognition. “Mr. Pollin was an invaluable partner in the revitalization of downtown Washington,” says Terry Lynch, executive director of the Downtown Cluster of Congregations. “He was far more than just a sports owner — he loved the city, its residents, and he did all he could in ways both big and small to help those in need.”
Pollin, who succumbed to a rare blood disease at 85, risked his own money on projects where most monied men would seek public funds.
The Verizon Center is the prime example. In 1996 Pollin closed down Cap Centre, his sports arena in Prince George’s County, and he opened a new arena in downtown D.C. near Chinatown. He paid for the arena on Seventh Street himself. The area was crummy back then; now, thanks in part to Pollin, it’s D.C.’s version of Time Square. Here’s a less flashy example of Pollin’s work.
In 2002 Turner Memorial A.M.E. Church put its building north of Chinatown up for sale. The domed structure had been a synagogue for 50 years before Turner took it over in 1951. It was about to become a nightclub. Alerted to the imminent desecration of what once had been a temple, Pollin joined two other businessmen — Doug Jemal and Shelton Zuckerman — to buy the building.
Now it is the Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, a new center of Jewish life in downtown D.C. Lynch notes that Pollin was active in “feeding the hungry, supporting health care outreach, and working to aid the homeless.” And he was there for the cops, too.
With the passing of Abe Pollin, who will be there for them in the future?
E-mail Harry Jaffe at [email protected].
