The US capitol is built on a swamp. As a capital city, it was a less desirable element than New York. The thinking was that if the U.S. capital was a swamp, the British wouldn't come down to the bastion of B.O. that was Washington, DC to bother the young nation, and would just let America alone.
Stay away from the swamp they (mostly) did. And ironically enough, 222 years later, most people here in the Washington, DC are are unbothered. Except when the power goes out. Which it does frequently after summer rain storms, and always in the non-monied environs. Whole sections of the power grid, with one swampy, sloppy storm, go dark.
Whole minimalls in Maryland, without power. Refrigerators full of rotting chicken, thawing shrimp. The "Open" signs of Mom & Pop stores dark, and closed.
The outskirts of D.C. are filled with people who, from the point of view of those with electric power (those who are powerful), are considered undesirable elements. These are the low-income blacks who got pushed out of the city because of gentrification, and Salvadorans and Brazilians who got pushed out of their countries by globalization.
They are now in an undesirable suburb, in an undesirable amount of heat and humidity.
As I sat to take it all in in front of Aspen Hill's Giant supermarket, I noticed one little boy's t-shirt read "Too Much Awesome". I told the mother how cute that was, and she laughed.
She commented, in the friendly twang of Central American Spanish, on the fact that although they have no ice or refrigeration in their house, it also wasn't as hot as predicted that day. It was predicted to be over 100 degrees, but the storm broke the humidity, and the air blew at a pleasant 85-90 degrees.
She took her son's little hand, and smiled. "So, we got the storm, but also got less heat," she mused.
"Well, maybe that's how God wanted it."