Sixty years ago, the Pope-Leighey House arrived at Woodlawn, a National Trust-owned property outside of Washington, DC, after a historic and hard-fought battle to save it from destruction. Originally built in Falls Church, Virginia for Loren and Charlotte Pope, the 1,200-square-foot Frank Lloyd Wright home was under threat thanks to the construction of the new Interstate 66. Today, thousands of guests a year visit the unique, modestly-sized house, the only Wright property open to the public in the National Capital region.

This year, Woodlawn is marking this important anniversary with an exhibit celebrating the woman who ensured the house’s continued existence: Marjorie Leighey. On view through the end of the year, the exhibit explains how Marjorie, the home’s last private owner, motivated a community to help rescue her home from demolition.

What drove Marjorie Leighey, then a 57-year-old widow, to save the house? Here’s a look at the story.

Act One: The Leigheys Buy the House

Robert and Marjorie Leighey were the second owners of the Falls Church home. The original owner, Loren Pope, was already a Wright aficionado when he wrote to the architect in 1939, begging him for a home for himself and his wife Charlotte. In response, Wright designed a house in his Usonian style. Meant to be affordable to middle-class families, Wright’s Usonian houses are relatively small, built from everyday materials like wood and concrete, and designed harmoniously with the natural surroundings.

In contrast, a modernist home was not initially what the Leigheys were looking for. It was Robert Leighey who first fell in love with the house, while Marjorie remained skeptical. But she was eventually won over by the way the home married the interior and the exterior; as an avid gardener, Wright’s unique style allowed her to see the surrounding landscape in new ways. “From the time I was five, I can remember wanting a house that was right with the earth,” she later said. In this Wright house filled with natural light and organic touches, set among Virginia’s rolling hills, she found what she had been looking for.

Act Two: The House at Risk

Robert Leighey died on July 29, 1963. Soon after, Marjorie learned that the new Interstate Highway 66 would pass directly through her property, and that, as a result, the government planned to seize her land and demolish her house.

Marjorie sprang into action. She hired a lawyer to delay the government, and, recognizing the cultural importance of her house, asked for help from Terry and Hamilton Morton, preservationists who worked for the National Trust for Historic Preservation. At the time, the preservation community tended to focus on saving much older properties, but Marjorie insisted that the 22-year-old house deserved the same protections as properties built 150 years earlier.

While it’s impossible to know her exact motivations, it’s difficult not to see her determination as a reflection of her recent loss. “It does seem like at least part of her thought in wanting to save the house was also saving memories she has of her husband,” observed Elizabeth Reese, senior manager of public programs at Woodlawn and the Pope-Leighey House. “That demonstrates that for a lot of people, doing larger acts of public service comes from a very personal place.”

Act Three: A Community Comes Together

Majorie wasn’t the only one invigorated by the efforts to save the house. Preservationists, National Park Service employees, politicians, and neighbors all came together to find a way to ensure the Pope-Leighey House lived on.News of the home’s planned demolition soon appeared in the papers. Recognizing the value in gathering public support, Marjorie encouraged the press coverage, giving interviews that pressed for others to join her cause. “I’m not doing this for myself, but for architects, students, and people building their own homes,” she told the Virginia Sun in 1964. Loren Pope now begged the community to stop the destruction of an architectural treasure. In a letter to the editor of the Washington Post, he wrote that only a society with a “barbarian set of values…could even entertain a proposal to let a road threaten [a Wright house].”

Majorie also heard from everyday people who cared about her home and wanted to find a way to save it. One such person was National Park Service employee Vincent Gleason, who personally wrote to Marjorie: “There’s likely to be a lot of reporters and a lot of TV people. You just stick with it, girl.”

Act Four: The Road to the National Historic Preservation Act

One of the people inspired by Marjorie’s determination was Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall. It was he and Marjorie, along with preservationists from the National Park Service and the National Trust for Historic Preservation, who finally devised a plan for saving the Pope-Leighey House.

The group quickly realized that while plans for I-66 could not be changed, the house itself could be moved. After being offered various options, Majorie chose Woodlawn as its new location, in part because the landscape reminded her of Falls Church. Brick by brick, the house was carefully demolished, transported, and rebuilt on the National Trust property, where Marjorie lived in it until her death.

The near-loss of the Pope-Leighey House was one of many efforts that inspired Udall and preservationists across the country to pursue a national law to preserve historic buildings. Celebrated as an environmentalist, Udall was also involved in the saving of a number of other cultural sites, including the Robie House, another Frank Lloyd Wright building in Chicago, and Merrywood, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy’s girlhood home. Thanks in part to his (and Majorie’s) efforts, President Johnson signed the National Historic Preservation Act in 1966.

Act Five: Marjorie Leighey’s Legacy

Thanks to the tools instituted by the National Historic Preservation Act, dozens of sites of cultural and historical significance have been saved, both by individuals and government entities. Many of those national efforts have been inspired by Majorie Leighey’s desire to save the home that she and her husband loved. “She was an accidental preservationist,” Reese said. “Hopefully when people visit this exhibit, [they ask themselves], ‘what kinds of personal things can I do that might make a larger impact?’ “

Majorie’s efforts to save her house don’t just show how the personal can become political; they also demonstrate the power that a community has to make change, small and large. “It's a clear example of how a community came together to make something happen,” said Heather Johnson, interim director of Woodlawn and the Pope-Leighey House. “Marjorie Leighey led the effort, but she didn't do it on her own.”