WASHINGTON, D.C. – Pamela James Blumgart passed away on August 6, in Washington, D.C., with her family by her side. Pamela was born on July 22, 1952, in Philadelphia, PA., to George Oliver and Suzanne Cartier James.
Her family, including her brother Tony, lived in Media, Pa., just to the west of the city. From an early age she loved to read, and soon after college (the first two years at Gettysburg and then graduating from the University of Pennsylvania) became immersed in the world of architecture and preservation in Maryland. Her love of the written word also led her to become an editor, working for trade publications in Washington, D.C. That’s how she met her husband, John David Blumgart, who asked her out at the library of a professional association on K Street where they were both working.
Their courtship luckily managed to survive a notorious second date, during which David unleashed his entire arsenal of jokes upon Pamela and was rewarded with scarcely a chuckle. After some years honing his humor, Pamela and David were married in 1982 and lived in University Park before deciding to buy a house on 31st Street in Mount Rainier in 1983, the block where they would live for the next four decades. There they raised their two children, Jake (1985) and Molly (1988), in a book-lined house filled with a rotating cast of cats (and one smelly dog).
Although they didn’t initially know anyone in this little streetcar suburb on the border of Washington D.C., it is difficult to argue they could have made a better choice. Until the end of her life, the community that Pamela and David found in Mount Rainier strengthened their family and enriched their lives. Lifelong friendships were born in babysitting co-ops, town hall meetings, and little league practices; women she first met in the 1980s and 1990s sat on the front porch with her family on the morning Pamela died to mourn with, and comfort, her husband and children.
Around the same time that Pamela and David moved to Mount Rainier, Pamela was also lucky to find an incredible community at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church on Capitol Hill. After not having been to church regularly since departing for college, Pamela decided she wanted a welcoming and supportive spiritual community in which to raise her children. With the help of her brother, Tony, she found St. Mark’s. Throughout the next 40 years, Pamela took an active role in church life, as an engaged member of one of its book clubs, vocal participant in many classes, editor of the website, and member of the Green Lions, as well as the St. Mark’s Players (producing shows, editing the program, and driving Molly to and from a staggering number of rehearsals).
Pamela had a passion for architecture, and loved nothing better than to walk around an old city and make approving comments about historic buildings (and, often, disparaging ones about their contemporary counterparts). She shared this passion with her sibling, Tony, who became a professional architect. They remained close throughout her life, talking on the phone, and seeing each other in person as much as possible even after they were no longer as geographically close to each other.
Pamela’s professional life as an editor was also linked to architecture, including a period with the American Institute of Architects. It was through her work with that organization that she became connected with the Facilities Guideline Institute (FGI), a nonprofit dedicated to the planning, design and construction of hospitals and other healthcare facilities. She became so integral to the institutional memory of the organization that, in a 2022 award ceremony, her colleagues compared her to a walking, talking search engine of their field due to the depth of her knowledge. She continued working with FGI until almost the end of her life, albeit part-time in her last years, because of the immense meaning she got out of her work there. Pamela loved making writing stronger and ensuring that ideas were communicated clearly, and dearly treasured the friendships she had built through her work over the years.
The family’s community in Mount Rainier is also what led to another integral thread of Pamela’s life: an annual vacation spot that became something like a second home. The family first started going to Vermont with their friends, and Mount Rainier expats, the Hannapels in 1990 and have headed up to the Northeast Kingdom almost every summer since. A reliable escape from the humidity of Washington D.C. in the summertime, vacations in Vermont provided peace and joy and ample opportunities for maple creemees, delicious baked goods, and hiking. Even when she could no longer climb mountains, Pamela could still be found walking to the Galaxy Bookshop, or the local coffee shop, or to yoga classes and acupuncture sessions in Hardwick.
Her capacity for friendship was limited only by the hours in the day, and almost until the end of her life she filled her time with book clubs, tea or coffee dates, and walks with her loved ones. Although she was shy as a youth, Pamela became more and more outgoing as she got older and in later life she would not hesitate to inform a stranger of her opinions. As a result of her fearlessness in social settings and curiosity about others, she kept making new friends into her 70s. Somehow, in addition to her own friendships, she always had the capacity to keep track of the names and biographical details of her children’s friends–even those she had never met. She also took a keen interest in the life of her nieces and nephews, keeping tabs on their travels near and far, and applying a light pressure to make sure she stayed up-to-date and was able to share a meal at holidays.
Pamela’s seemingly tireless ability to socialize, and her interest in people meant that she was rarely bored. Her love of reading helped too. She was rarely without a book and trained her children to always keep reading material on hand, so they would have something stimulating to do even in the dullest situations. Even during her hospitalization in Vienna during a trip with her children this past June, she was perusing On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (and trying to hide the dirty bits from the nurses).
In the last nine years of Pamela’s life she battled cancer, facing a grim diagnosis in 2015 with strength and courage. She was not afraid to share what was on her mind with anyone, and she was a fierce advocate for her own care. (She made sure to ask the German nurses in Vienna what, precisely, were in all the pills they wanted to give her.)
Pamela approached the world from a different angle from most people, and her friendliness, outspokenness, and the care she showed to her loved ones (and their loved ones) will be missed terribly. Mount Rainier, her little corner of Vermont, and the lives of her family and friends will not be the same without her.
If you wish to make a memorial gift in Pamela’s name, please consider either of the following:
The American Farmland Trust, part of the conservation agriculture movement fighting against climate change: farmland.org/donate/, DC Greens, a local regenerative farm: https://dc-greens.networkforgood.com/
