By Stephanie Cavanaugh
Special to The Washington Post
It is late on an overcast Sunday afternoon and the neighbors on F Street Terrace SE are popping in and out of their houses with the makings of a party.
John Klaja sets down a bistro table covered with a blue plaid cloth, topped with a pot of pansies. Will Fleishell brings pistachios. Rusty Horger backs up his pickup and drops the tailgate, a makeshift buffet. His wife, Linda, will be out in a minute; she's washing her hair.
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