This poor Boundary Stone. Look at it below, all by itself on an island with traffic crowding it on both sides. It's no wonder that it looks very much worse for wear. Once upon a time -- in 1897 during stone historian Marcus Baker's survey -- he described its location and appearance as,
"Standing erect on the eastern rim of a widish valley in a field recently cleared; is seamed and somewhat battered and chipped; is six-
teen rods less than six miles from the south corner, the inscription being. "Miles 
304 p." The variation is 0°?' east, the figures showing the minutes being illegible. The date is 1791."
Wow, things sure have changed.
I suppose you could imagine the above as a "widish field" and it's certainly been cleared. It stands to reason that this isn't the exact original location of the stone as boundarystones.org also states. There's no way the roads would have been built perfectly straddling the stone and it doesn't line up perfectly anymore with the one-time border.
Perhaps even more striking a difference is the stone itself. It's no longer just "somewhat battered and chipped," it's in awful shape and it's not because of erosion or weathering. This unfortunate stone has been hit by a car. At least once, maybe more. Look at the crack straight down the middle. Yikes.
These days, our District of Columbia boundary stones probably face more danger from vehicles than from any other force. In May of 2024 SE7 was hit head on by a car, nearly reduced to rubble and was somehow saved thanks to a dedicated Boundary Stone historian and protector.
Which is to say that the car incidents experienced by SW6 could have been a lot worse. This stone is still standing, has a stalwart character and even boasts some original etchings if you look hard enough.
This find should be a very quick park and grab and will bring you up close and personal with this relic from a less mechanized and speedy past. There's parking on both sides of its island.