a&e features
Lost River vs. Rehoboth?
Locals weigh in on popular second-home spots

Lighthouse Harry Lee Cabin is a historic home in Lost River State Park. (Photo by Justin Wilcox; courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
Morning person or night owl? Butch or femme? Mountain person or beach lover? Of course, life is never totally black and white, but for many D.C.-area LGBT folks, the most popular second-home spots come down to where you like to spend either your downtime or your retirement years.
Lost River, W.Va., an unincorporated community in West Virginia’s Hardy County along Route 259, is about a two-hour drive from Washington and has become a sort of unofficial rural gay area in recent years. Gay life in Rehoboth Beach, Del., of course, is well established. When D.C. gays go to the beach, more often than not, it’s to Rehoboth. Traffic can be dicey, especially on Friday and Sunday evenings in the summer, but it’s about a two-and-a-half-hour/120-mile drive from Washington.
We asked locals why they chose one or the other.
Peter Rosenstein, Blade columnist and owner of PDR and Associates, has been in Washington since 1978 and bought a home in Rehoboth Beach in 1998. He spends about 15 percent of his time at the beach.
“Life in Rehoboth Beach is relaxed and fun — great restaurants, great people, shopping and, of course, the ocean and white sandy beach.”
He says visit friends and spend time looking at different neighborhoods before making a purchase. And find a good realtor.
“I’ve been going to Rehoboth since the early ’80,” he says. “The only mistake I made was waiting so long to buy my own place. I also find that D.C. people are friendlier and more relaxed when they’re in Rehoboth Beach.”
Paul Yandura and Donald Hitchcock have been together 18 years and now split their time between Washington and Wardensville, W.Va. They bought a home in Columbia Heights in 2001 and a cabin in Lost River in 2008. In 2013, they bought a store called Lost River Trading Post. A small house next to the store houses Lost River Real Estate.
“I consider myself and I think Donald considers himself more of a mountain person than a beach person,” Yandura says. “I grew up in Detroit and all our trips outside of downtown were to the lake, so I like lakes, mountains and rivers more than oceans and beaches.”
He calls Lost River “very laid back and very welcoming.” Gay people, he says, have “been here for years.” He stays there full time and “is loving it.” Hitchcock goes back and forth.
West Virginia cabins, he says, are overall much more affordable than houses at the beach. He puts a “very nice” cabin option at about $300,000; top-of-the-line might be in the $400,000 range while something comfortable with a view can still be had for less than $200,000.
“And you can still swap houses with someone who spent $900,000 on a beach house for your $300,000 mountain cabin without the expense and upkeep and without having to go in with others,” Yandura says. “It all depends what you want. Also, out here in West Virginia, you can enjoy your cabin all year round.”
He says Wardensville and Lost River Valley are “bustling” in the spring and summer with plenty of outdoor activities. The views in the fall are “spectacular” and even winter is nice.
“Nothing beats cozying up to a large stone fireplace and taking in the mountain vistas,” he says.
Trout Pond National Park, Lost River State Park, the George Washington National Forest Trails, restaurants and shops, bars and even an art co-op add to the appeal, he says.
A. Toni Young lived in Washington most of her life but now spends half her time in Lost River. She says she always thought of herself as a beach person until she found Lost River four years ago. She runs a non-profit and a housewares business.
“Although it is primarily gay white men — until a few months ago, I was the only black lesbian here, also known as ‘the black lady,’ — but a couple lesbian couples have moved in down the road and are interracial,” Young says. “You can find gay African-Americans, great dinner parties, movie nights in the summer, biking, hiking, Kentucky Derby parties — you name it, we have it here.”
Before you buy, she says figure out if you want to be near the water or someplace “more woodsy.” Also think about whether you’re willing to put time in on a fixer-upper or if you just want to move in. Also consider how much time you want to invest in upkeep.
“I never thought this kid from Southeast D.C. would find joy in the four hours I spend on a riding mower, but I do,” she says.
The folks in Lost River “are family,” she says.
“I had my pipes freeze and burst and a neighbor, his brother and some guy I didn’t know, showed up at my house, pulled down dry wall, stopped the leak and called the plumber and made sure I wasn’t overcharged,” she says.
Last month, Bob Kabel sold the Kalorama condo he’d owned for 16 years. He’s had a house in Rehoboth Beach for 14 years. Two years ago, he bought another in Lost River with a friend.
“I like both,” he says. “They’re strikingly different experiences. There is much more to do in Rehoboth than in Lost River, but they both provide a welcome getaway from D.C.”
He says gay life “permeates” Rehoboth and says it’s a “madhouse” in the summer.
“It’s actually more enjoyable and not so crazy during the off season,” Kabel says.
He enjoys hanging out with Yandura and Hitchcock at the Trading Post and says outdoor sports and hiking are great there, if you’re into that. Going out options are limited, but that’s not the draw.
“Lost River LGBT life centers around individual homes,” he says. “Nice weather brings people there. Winter, not so much.”
He agrees Lost River is “much more affordable.”
Kabel says make sure any mortgage broker you work with has everything covered. He’d previously bought a condo in Rehoboth and learned his broker had neglected to submit his loan application. He says the mortgage process for the Lost River house was “long and almost painful.”
“Changes to mortgage lending after the 2008 debacle have made getting a loan much more paper intensive and difficult,” Kabel says.
Vicki Johnson bought her circa 1830s log cabin less than a year ago and moved to Wardensville full time. She worked in law, politics and government for nearly 20 years and craved more time to write, more time with her child and “freedom from a desk job.”
“When I finally visited, I was completely hooked,” she says.
She now runs Lucky Johnson General Store.
“I spend my days surrounded by historical objects and antiques, drinking organic coffee and offering natural products for cabins, people and pets,” she says. “I also host live music events and author talks. It’s pretty dreamy.”
If you think you might be interested, she advises visiting with a local realtor and see what interests you.
“You might fall in love with a valley view of cows grazing, river frontage, a farmhouse, a historic cabin, private access to a national forest, an old barn to restore or something else,” she says. “You will definitely know it when you see it. I never thought I’d live in a 200-year-old cabin, but the view sealed the deal.”

Rehoboth Beach, Del. (Washington Blade file photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)
a&e features
Tickets on sale for chef Patrick O’Connell’s book launch event
Sept. 18 kickoff to feature José Andrés, Tom Sietsema
Acclaimed chef Patrick O’Connell is preparing to publish his new memoir, “Main, Middle & Gay” in September and he’s launching the book with an event on Sept. 18 at 6 p.m. at Lisner Auditorium featuring Chef José Andrés and former Washington Post food critic Tom Sietsema.
Tickets for the event go on sale Tuesday, July 21 at Ticketmaster; prices start at $55.
O’Connell, who’s gay, is the pioneering Michelin-starred chef and longtime proprietor of the Inn at Little Washington. He spoke with the Blade about the September event and the launch of his first memoir.
“I’ve known [Andrés and Sietsema] for more than 25 years and I have great respect for them,” O’Connell said. “I felt that it would allow us to add a different dimension rather than just have an interviewer. The chemistry will be fun and lively and unpredictable and exciting. I think we’re all different personalities and we’ll compliment each other.”
O’Connell has published cookbooks but this is his first memoir. The event will feature a short film that will highlight his work and the Inn.
“What I hope to do with the event is bring the book to life visually,” he said. “So we’re producing a short film that will be part of it. Most of the audience will not have read the book so it’ll give them a visual flavor of the book. It parallels the evolution of American cuisine over 50 years. It’s a rare perspective to be in the trenches for that long.”
The book’s title refers to the location of the garage on the corner of Main, Middle, and Gay streets in Washington, Va., where he launched his restaurant that became an international culinary destination.
The Blade will publish the rest of its wide-ranging interview with O’Connell in September in conjunction with the book’s release.
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The queer Asian comics building collective joy in D.C.
Spotlighting chaotic ways family, romance, identity take shape in their lives
Kevin Chen’s family tombstone has room for four: him, his parents and his boyfriend. The arrangement might prove to be a little awkward.
“My boyfriend is 100% white, and my parents are 100% disappointed,” Chen confessed.
Jokes about family traditions and the untraditional ways they’re practiced earned a burst of laughs at the bar where Chen was opening for the Pride Comedy Special. The D.C. stand-up event, produced by Comedy Bonfyre last month, spotlighted queer Asian comics who shared the chaotic ways family, romance and identity take shape in their lives.
From candid oral sex takes to top surgery hypotheticals like “Where do the boobs go?”, the night highlighted the loud camaraderie of the queer Asian experience — one that sounds like a cacophony of snorts, cackles and belly laughs. While the comics say they are not quite a community, there’s more than enough shared material to bring them together.
“It was such a magical experience. I loved performing in a queer API lineup. It feels so validating,” Chen said after the show. “I’m wondering, ‘Is this how white men feel all the time?’”
Each performance evoked queer Asian joy through a medium that could use more of its presence.
According to Chen, who is based in D.C., it’s hard to say whether there is a true queer Asian comedy presence in his city. There are only a scattered “handful” of Asian comics, and people of color are underrepresented in queer comic circles, he said.
When Tarunika Anand, a nonbinary lesbian comic, first entered the mainstream D.C. comedy scene, they mostly encountered straight white men, describing the experience as “a culture shock.”
“I feel like sometimes a lot of queer spaces are really white, and then a lot of Asian spaces are really straight,” Anand said. “I don’t feel like I fit into either.”
But feeling marginalized didn’t stop these comics from honing their craft and creating spaces for others like them. Alex Kim, who headlined the special and is based in Brooklyn, runs the queer Asian comedy group Boba Gays, which began on WhatsApp and has since made its way to Lincoln Center.
Every Wednesday, Anand co-produces a free comedy show called Funny Side Up. The queer-led group focuses on inclusivity and showcasing new talent.
“It’s really beautiful to speak about your experience and your existence in a way that’s uplifting,” Anand said.
Family is a major throughline of their comedic repertoires.
Chen, for instance, shared that he identifies with jokes about having Asian immigrant parents and the expectations they pass down.
“You see me, you know this part about me, you know this experience intimately, and I can see the truth that you’re trying to wrap a joke around,” he said. “That hits even harder because that’s my truth too. I think that’s what makes good comedy.”
Anand had the audience at the special howling when they explained that their parents’ be-more-like-them comparisons didn’t end when they came out. Instead, the expectations took on a new form.
“Now, my parents want me to be the best gay,” Anand said. “They’re like, ‘Do you know Ellen DeGeneres?’”
Kim said he’s been trying to unlearn things from his Christian Korean mom. Yet he described a moment when he was getting ready for the club and realized he looked just like his mother getting ready for church.
“I’ve been finding it hard to escape her,” Kim said.
Mutual recognition also radiates through the different ways queer love can take shape. From singlehood to death-do-us-part commitments, the comics cover just about every corner.
Anand is holding out hope for settling down with “a nice, pretty, Indian girl.” They recently went through a breakup and said they felt they dodged a bullet.
“As a person of color, I just don’t think I should be with a Swiftie,” they said.
Chen, touching on what it’s like to be in a queer interracial relationship, said that meeting his white boyfriend’s baby nephew for the first time felt like he was forced to participate in a diversity, equity and inclusion training.
“The dad was like, ‘Please welcome Kevin. Be curious about his culture, his history, his foods,’” Chen joked.
Laughter is not the only reward for the comics.
To Anand, comedy is a space where they can say whatever they want. “It gives me a voice,” they said.
Nik Narain, a North Carolina-based trans and nonbinary South Asian comic who performed at the special, said meeting older trans comedians and taking the stage helped him feel reassured in his identity during his transition.
“Stand-up was a really cool way to process that onstage,” he said. “[It] became a way for me to repackage my thoughts.”
Queer Asians are still figuring out their place in the greater D.C. comedy scene. The group is small in numbers and many are still working toward a full-time comedy career. But Narain feels he’s already made it.
Narain is reluctant to pin it all on one moment. He feels that success is already peeking through in milestones — opening for celebrities, traveling to performances and self-producing shows.
“As long as I can keep doing this, I’m super happy,” he said.
This story was produced as part of the AAJA VOICES fellowship program, a student journalism project of the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA).
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Mr. Henry’s celebrates 60 years of proud inclusivity
Capitol Hill staple remains ‘a caring community’
America’s 250th isn’t the only milestone birthday D.C. is celebrating this year.
Beloved D.C. restaurant Mr. Henry’s, that Capitol Hill staple, celebrates its Diamond Jubilee all year long. Named for its original owner Henry Yaffe, the restaurant opened on a warm day 60 years ago in the summer of 1966 and has never looked back.
Yaffe took over what was then a country western restaurant, renovated the interior to his liking, and created an institution. Yet Yaffe had another goal. As a gay man, “he created Mr. Henry’s to be a place where everyone felt welcome — not easy in 1966 — and he succeeded,” says current owner Mary Quillian.

“Mr. Henry’s has long been a place the LGBTQ community has supported because they felt and still feel welcomed,” says Quillian. Even in the current administration, “the gay community and the diversity-minded community continue to come.”
Since then, Mr. Henry’s has changed hands, opened and closed its second floor, welcomed famed musical acts, and played host to politicians, date nights, breakups, and birthdays. But it still feels like home (and has a note in the National Trust for Historic Preservation) at 601 Pennsylvania Ave., S.E.
Its wood-paneled, Victorian-inspired art-filled décor in the downstairs dining room and bar serves American pub fare for lunch and dinner daily, with brunch on weekends (and a dog-friendly patio). Upstairs, Mr. Henry’s hosts live jazz performances and special events most nights, continuing a musical tradition that has defined the venue for decades. That upstairs bar has played host to names like Roberta Flack and Woody Allen.
Musician Kevin Cordt said that, “Mr. Henry’s has been a part of my life for more than 30 years. I started as a customer, then became a bartender and server, and now I have the good fortune to play trumpet at one of the best live music venues in Washington, D.C.”
Aaron Myers, executive director of the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities, is also a supporter. “Not many cities can sport venues that have consistently served the community in the space of culture for more than 50 years, let alone can brag as the birthplace of culture defining talent.”
From the start, Yaffe promoted a rare yet celebrated combination of locals’ bar and soulful nightlife venue. Mr. Henry’s has attracted a diverse crowd at a time when such spaces were – and perhaps still are – uncommon, a diversity that is credited with helping protect the pub during the 1968 D.C. riots.
Longtime customer Evelyn Branic said, “Mr. Henry’s has been my ‘Cheers’ hangout since my wife and I moved to the Hill in 1987. I’ve experienced many iconic moments meeting politicians, reporters, civic activists, and neighbors engaging in spirited conversations. Whether political, LGBTQ, historians, neighbors, or out-of-towners, everyone could find a special place to be greeted as a friend.”
Its welcoming tables come dabbed with a bit of tea: In 1971, in a moment that has since become part of Capitol Hill lore, Yaffe lost the pub in a poker game to Larry Quillian. The Quillian family, recognizing the special role Mr. Henry’s played in the neighborhood, took over ownership, and committed to preserving its spirit. Today, Larry’s daughter Mary owns the bar, having given it a bit of a facelift for the bar’s 50th birthday, bringing in new tables and some fresh menu items.
For example, the menu has some of those dishes that regulars would riot if they disappeared. The Reuben and the hamburgers, the chili and in-house roasted turkey have never departed the menu. Dishes do evolve, says Quillen: they added wings about two decades ago.
In 2026, the restaurant is hosting monthly ticketed “decades” parties, celebrating each of the 10-year periods the restaurant’s been open, plus there were specials in June for Pride. The official 60th anniversary gala takes place Aug. 29, featuring performers, beverages, timeless favorite foods, swag – and the unveiling of a new cocktail.
Inclusive, eccentric, eclectic, Mr. Henry’s is looking forward to maintaining its centrality to diverse crowds in Capitol Hill. Battling inflation, rising menu prices, changing tastes, and thin margins, Quillian says that Mr. Henry’s has — and will always be — “a caring community for so many different folks. And THAT is why I am committed to keeping us going. Society needs places like Mr. Henry’s, now more than ever.”
