KLMNO
METRO
SUNDAY, MAY 29 , 2022. WASHINGTONPOST.COM/LOCAL EZ RE C
JOHN KELLY
In the 1950s, a “shabby
edifice” in D.C. was home
to CIA photo work linked
to the U-2 spy plane. C3
LOCAL OPINIONS
Montgomery County ends
student meal debt for
many, but the need to do
so is, itself, a shame. C4
OBITUARIES
Thomas Murphy, 96, led
the history-making merger
that in the 1990s united
68 ° 79 ° 83 ° 78 ° ABC and Disney. C9
8 a.m. Noon 4 p.m. 8 p.m.
High today at
approx. 4 p.m.
83
°
Precip: 0%
Wind: SSE
3-6 mph
Tiny Pound, Va., has only a part-time police chief, scant
business taxes and a lot of infighting over what’s left
EARL NEIKIRK FOR THE WASHINGTON POST
She read the sign at the exhib-
it’s threshold. Every day, it said,
more than 100 people in the
United States are killed with
guns, and 200 are shot and
wounded. Each week, guns kill
700 people — each of them repre-
sented by the 700 bricks used to
build the four glass houses before
her.
The sign invited her to walk
through, to spend time with the
lives inside each brick, to reflect.
And then it asked her to act.
House number one.
A mix-tape CD in a yellow case
for Leslie, 24, featuring “Bennie
and the Jets.” A student ID for
16-year-old Blair, killed in Chica-
go while shielding a friend from
bullets on the bus after school. A
SEE MEMORIAL ON C5
their elementary school in Uval-
de, Tex. In both mass slayings,
young men used semiautomatic
rifles to gun down their victims.
Those killings have dominated
the news cycle, but they represent
just a fraction of the epidemic’s
toll in the United States. The
memorial, created by the MASS
Design Group, Purpose Over Pain
and the Everytown for Gun Safety
Support Fund, was built to con-
vey what the headlines could not.
Oertley, who works in con-
struction in Chicago, had flown
to the nation’s capital for a Me-
morial Day weekend getaway,
and she had come to the National
Building Museum early Saturday
to learn about architecture. But
then she saw the Gun Violence
Memorial Project.
BY KATIE METTLER
Shawna Oertley stepped into
the stark white room, silent but
for the muffled sounds of sullen
voices. Immediately, she was
overwhelmed.
Before her were four houses
the size of a small sheds, all built
of 700 glass cases shaped like
bricks. Etched onto each was a
name and death date. Inside were
small objects meant to represent
a whole life, now gone.
Oertley, 58, had found herself
inside the Gun Violence Memori-
al Project.
It had been two weeks since 10
Black people were killed inside a
Buffalo grocery store, and four
days since 19 children and their
two teachers were killed inside
At gun violence memorial, visitors
reflect on recent U.S. mass killings
BY DANIELLE
DOUGLAS-GABRIEL
In a tight labor market, where
competition for workers is fierce,
companies are making a play to
attract and retain employees by
offering to pay their student
loans.
Take Inova Health Systems,
which announced this spring
that it would contribute $150 a
month to pay down the education
debt of employees who have been
on the job less than three years,
and $250 a month to those who
have been there longer.
“We know that our team mem-
bers have a lot of choices of where
to work, where they want their
career to go,” said Wendy Jolly,
Inova’s vice president for human
resources. “We want them to feel
like they have a competitive set of
pay and benefit programs to
match the excellence we expect.”
Employers are heeding the call
of younger workers for help with
their education debt, and taking
advantage of a new tax break
born out of the pandemic. Still,
there are more firms considering
the perk than actually imple-
menting it, a reluctance experts
say is rooted in uncertainty about
federal policies on debt cancella-
tion and repayment.
Before the pandemic, student
loan repayment benefits were
becoming one of the most popu-
lar perks taking hold in corporate
America. The percentage of em-
ployers offering student loan re-
payment assistance doubled to 8
percent between 2016 and 2019,
according to the Society for Hu-
man Resource Management.
A 2021 survey by the Employee
Benefit Research Institute found
priorities shifted in the wake of
SEE LOANS ON C14
Emerging
job perk:
Student
loan help
BY ANTONIO OLIVO
In 2008, Fairfax County
launched an ambitious “Plan to
Prevent and End Homelessness,”
with the goal of ending home-
lessness in the Northern Virginia
suburb within 10 years.
While homelessness is down
by more than a third since that
deadline was set, tent encamp-
ments in the woods, including
one a short walk from the satel-
lite country government center
in Reston, show the goal of
reducing the number to zero is
still far from reach.
The county Board of Supervi-
sors recently ordered a review of
the Fairfax homelessness -
prevention efforts, joining other
localities in the region that have
been struggling with a problem
that, while diminishing, has be-
come more visible during the
coronavirus pandemic.
Some supervisors expressed
frustration over the limited prog-
ress after several hundred people
returned to the streets earlier
this spring, prompted by the
closure of seasonal hypothermia
shelters that operate between
December and April, and the end
of a pandemic program in March
SEE HOMELESS ON C6
Fairfax
revisits
homeless
problem
2 008 PLAN’S GOAL OF
ZERO STILL DISTANT
Tents near government
building point to issue
Next to mass shootings,
small horrors go unseen
By now, you might
have seen the
video.
Not the one of
the Uvalde fourth-
grader who
described “hiding
hard” and then
hearing a
classmate, at the prompting of an
officer, yell for help before getting
shot.
Not the one of the dad who
spoke of buying his daughter a
phone for her 10th birthday and
learning she tried to use it to call
911 in her final moments.
Not the one of the 10-year-old
who talked about how she
survived and then later realized
“all the people I knew were dead.”
Those are all heartbreaking
and haunting. They were also
created after those children had
already been failed. The video
that keeps playing on loop in my
mind is one that shows the
moments before, during and after
shots were fired in the direction
of a group of children. That video
was taken on the same day as the
Uvalde shooting and leaves the
viewer wanting to reach in and
tell those kids, “Run!”
The footage — which was
captured by a security camera and
posted on social media and, in
edited form, by news outlets —
shows five young children playing
on a sidewalk in a Northern
Virginia neighborhood. Across the
parking lot, four people in dark
clothing can be seen walking. One
SEE VARGAS ON C6
Theresa
Vargas
BY GREGORY S. SCHNEIDER
pound, va. — Leabern Kennedy lit a
Virginia Slims and opened a Mountain
Dew Zero. It was almost 10 p.m. She’d
started work on her day job about 14
hours ago, sat through a long town
council training session and now was
on the phone with a lawyer from across
the state.
Kennedy, newly installed as vice
mayor, knew her town was dying. Like
other places in Appalachia, its coal-
based economy is gone, its tiny popula-
tion aging and declining. But that is
just the start of Pound’s problems.
Last fall, most of Pound’s remaining
business owners decided to stop pay-
ing taxes because the town’s finances
are in chaos. Every town employee quit
or was fired. The cashier was convicted
of embezzling from the public account.
When the police department disband-
ed, the local prosecutor dismissed all
31 pending criminal cases because
evidence was so mishandled.
Now Pound is literally facing a death
sentence. After so much dysfunction,
the General Assembly more than 350
miles away in Richmond has taken the
unusual step of voting to revoke the
town’s charter over the objections of its
residents.
The move has shocked local government
advocates around Virginia. “The risks of
the things that have gone wrong in Pound
— those same risks exist for every town,”
said Steve Trivett, mayor of the town of
Ashland in Hanover County. If the General
Assembly can simply step in and make
troublesome towns vanish, he said, “this
could set a precedent... [of] short-circuit-
ing the citizens right out of it.”
State lawmakers insist Pound is a special
situation — s o profoundly troubled that
there is almost nothing left to save. But just
in case, they pledged to reconsider the
charter — set to expire Nov. 1, 2023 — if the
town shows signs of getting its act back
together.
For Pound’s roughly 900 residents, that
presents a dilemma: Take a stand, or let it
go?
In a national climate of political division
and loss of faith in institutions, Pound is
pretty much a worst-case scenario of
government gone wrong. Yet it also shows
what is at stake when public systems are
truly, literally threatened. For some, this is
home, and working to defend the common
good is worth a little risk and sacrifice. So
Kennedy, 55, and a handful of others have
decided to take a crack at rebuilding the
SEE POUND ON C7
With lawmakers ready to end dying town,
residents debate whether it’s worth saving
GREGORY S. SCHNEIDER/THE WASHINGTON POST
TOP: Pound is struggling with the same economic problems that
beset several Southwest Virginia towns, plus several scandals
and bad blood on the town council. A BOVE: Pound Vice Mayor
Leabern Kennedy talks with an attorney who has volunteered to
train council members on the basics of town government.