The Scarlet Veil

In the stifling age of Prohibition when Washington was a city of dry laws and whispered secrets there was an unmarked door that led to another world.

Behind it was The Chapel an underground haven for those who refused to let the decade roar in silence.

This was no mere speakeasy. It was a temple to excess fueled by bathtub gin and the defiant cry of a jazz trumpet.

Here the rigid morals of the old world were checked at the door along with the fur coats and fedoras. The Chapel was a place to dance the Charleston on the tables to lose oneself in the rhythm and to explore the thrilling new freedoms of a generation shedding its skin.

Behind a heavy Scarlet Veil that masked the main room all social lines blurred. Flappers with bobbed hair drank from the same bottle as disgraced politicians and artists debated philosophy with bootleggers.

It was a fleeting feverish dream of a world without rules a secret society dedicated to the glorious unapologetic pursuit of pleasure.

The Chapel vanished when the law changed its legend fading like the last note of a saxophone. But the spirit of that rebellion was never truly extinguished.

The password is being whispered once more. The doors are opening again at a secret venue on Saturday September 20 at 10 PM.