Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem has launched a bold plan to tear down 13 historic buildings on the St. Elizabeths Hospital campus in Washington, D.C., citing pressing security threats.
Noem sent a memo to the General Services Administration requesting the swift demolition of these structures, which were not previously slated for destruction, as detailed by the Daily Mail. This move follows President Donald Trump's earlier decision to raze the White House's East Wing without historical review.
The St. Elizabeths west campus, home to DHS headquarters since taking over the former mental institution founded in 1855, holds a storied past. Many of its brick buildings, featured in films like A Few Good Men, have been preserved through painstaking historical processes until now.
Noem's memo points to vacant buildings as a clear danger, arguing they "constitute a present risk to life and property." Her accompanying DHS report warns these empty structures could be exploited by unauthorized individuals intent on harm.
The report sharpens its focus, highlighting how these buildings offer "a tactical advantage for carrying out small arms or active shooter scenarios." Such language suggests a real fear, though one wonders if security perimeters couldn't address this without erasing history.
DHS spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin reinforced the urgency, stating, "Several of these structures cannot be safely accessed or cleared by law enforcement or first responders, creating security blind spots adjacent to senior leadership and critical operations." Her insistence on safety as the core issue feels valid, yet the rush to demolish bypasses any debate on alternatives.
The National Trust for Historic Preservation and the D.C. Preservation League have fired off a sharp letter of objection to the acting GSA head. They argue no sudden "emergency" justifies this plan, especially since the buildings sit behind a double security perimeter.
Elizabeth Merritt and Rebecca Miller, representing these groups, wrote, "If these buildings are considered such a security threat, DHS should first reevaluate the location of its perimeter security fence, as suggested in early consultation meetings." Their point cuts deep, shifting blame to agency oversight rather than the structures themselves.
They further contend the buildings' poor condition stems from "federal agency neglect," a stinging critique of DHS and GSA management. If access is indeed an issue, they argue, it’s because those in charge failed to secure the sites properly.
Among the targeted buildings is the Burroughs Cottage, built in 1881 for wealthy patient Sarah Catherine Borrows, its name marred by a historical misspelling. Also listed are the four Allison buildings from 1899, once homes for disabled veterans, carrying a legacy worth remembering.
The Linden and Holly wards, erected in 1893 for white female epileptics, face the wrecking ball alongside the East Lodge, which housed female African-American patients. These structures, detailed in a 2013 GSA history of St. Elizabeths, embody layers of American struggle and care.
Noem’s list extends to the campus creamery, greenhouses, staff house, and residence, rounding out a total of 13 previously unslated for demolition. With four other buildings already approved for destruction, the scope of loss feels staggering against the backdrop of a preserved main hospital.
Preservationists note that the D.C. State Historic Preservation Office and the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation have until Wednesday, December 31, to intervene. As of Tuesday afternoon, no action had emerged from either entity, leaving the buildings’ fate hanging.
The DHS remains silent on when demolitions might start, adding tension to an already fraught situation. One can’t help but question if this urgency truly serves safety or merely expedites a broader agenda to reshape federal spaces.
While security must be paramount, the wholesale erasure of history demands a harder look at solutions that balance both needs. Noem’s push, echoing Trump’s East Wing precedent, risks setting a tone where the past is too easily discarded for the sake of unchecked authority.