Windsor House

Hi! I'm moving again, and I was looking for apartment building recommendations for studios and one bedrooms in the Columbia Heights, Adams Morgan, Mount Pleasant, Logan Circle or Dupont Circle neighborhoods. I ideally want to stay under $2,000, but I don't mind going a little over, especially if the units are a little nicer and come with better management/fewer issues. I have heard good things about Windsor House Apartments in Logan Circle, but reviews lately have been mixed. I was wondering if people have experiences to share about living in either Highland Park Apartments and or Park Triangle. It's hard to tell if the reviews on Google come from legitimate tenants who have lived there (and many are just from people who have toured, where the management company is trying to leave a good impression), so it's hard to parse through the noise. Any input regarding this would be much appreciated; thanks so much!

Hello all! I am in my 20s and deciding on where to live. I found a really nice building, Annex on 12, with good amenities and commute on the silver line for work. I am worried it will be too isolated and not worth it though. I toured some buildings in logan circle ( Windsor house) and they were definitely a better location but an older building. I am worried about rats and roaches as well. Any advice or apartment recs is appreciated!

If you’ve ever walked through Causeway Bay in Hong Kong, you might think it’s just another bustling city district. But back in the 1980s, one ordinary marble wall became the center of a chilling urban legend that still lingers in the city’s memory today. It all started with Windsor House, a major landmark completed in 1979. Its lobby and exterior walls were lined with polished white marble, smooth and flowing with natural veins. Most people walked past it without a second thought, until one day, a passerby looked up and noticed something strange. Hidden in the patterns of the stone was the outline of an animal face: pointed ears, an elongated snout. At first, it was just one person noticing it, but as word spread, more people stopped and stared. Soon, observers began claiming there were multiple faces, not just one. Some said five, others insisted there were seven. This eventually became known as the “Seven Fox Faces at the Gate” - seven eerie, fox-like faces embedded within the marble itself. What had been an ordinary wall became the obsession of an entire neighborhood. As crowds gathered, media coverage intensified. Newspapers ran sensational headlines like *“Fox Faces in Marble”* and *“An Ominous Sign”*, while TV reports spread the story across the city. In a Hong Kong still deeply influenced by superstition, these accounts didn’t just inform, they amplified fear. People started interpreting the wall as a sign of something supernatural rather than just a trick of light and pattern. Feng shui masters added fuel to the fire. They explained that foxes are creatures of yin energy, and the number seven is unlucky, symbolizing financial loss, bloodshed, and disaster. Their interpretations spread quickly, making the public even more uneasy. Meanwhile, a fascinating psychological phenomenon emerged. When one person pointed out a face, others began seeing the same shapes. What was vague and abstract suddenly became clear. This is known as *collective cognitive reinforcement*: when enough people believe something, it starts to feel real. Rumors and stories only grew darker. One tale claimed that a restaurant on the top floor had hosted a full-month banquet but had failed to honor the fox spirits properly. Days later, a child fell ill with a mysterious fever and died. Another story tells of a night security guard passing the marble wall late at night, hearing faint cries like those of an infant, or perhaps just the wind. The hollow eye sockets of the seven faces seemed to glow faintly red in the dim light. Terrified, the guard ran and resigned the next day. Yet another rumor suggested that the building management had set up a small rooftop playground for the fox spirits, complete with swings and slides. At night, residents claimed to see ghostly silhouettes of children gently swaying on the swings, without a sound, like a lingering image of a television screen just before it shuts off. Eventually, the management decided to act. Workers dismantled the marble wall in full view of journalists and the public. The cracking stone echoed through the lobby, and the slab was removed and taken away. The act seemed like a symbolic attempt to cut off the source of the legend. The crowds dispersed, media coverage waned, and life in Causeway Bay returned to normal, or so it seemed. Even after the marble was gone, the story did not disappear. People continued to talk about the Seven Fox Faces, passing the tale along for generations. Years later, Windsor House was redeveloped into Windsor Plaza with a modern glass façade, but the legend persisted. Psychologically, this legend can be explained by *pareidolia*, our brain’s tendency to see familiar shapes, especially faces - in random patterns. But there’s more than just a visual trick at play. The 1980s were a time when traditional beliefs, superstition, and modern urban culture coexisted in Hong Kong. Media reports and crowds amplified fear, making even an ordinary marble wall feel alive with something unseen. Today, Causeway Bay is bustling and brightly lit, and the marble wall is long gone. Yet the Seven Fox Faces remain part of Hong Kong’s folklore. Perhaps the most unsettling part isn’t the stone itself, it’s the moment you start to wonder whether what you saw was real.