Gem & Keystone Brewpub’s Dan Stripp and his team of “artists, skateboarders and rock stars” are unconcerned they’re on the cutting edge of national trends.
Sous Chef Corey Scott could have inherited his family’s 480 acre resort but why do something predictable? Sous Chef Travis Dente, a dishwasher a few years ago, created the recipe for their cold smoked wood grilled baby backed ribs with a deep flavored smoky BBQ sauce that sent me over heaven.
From India to rural Pennsylvania, Chef Gaurav Navin brings a world’s experience to Shawnee Inn and Golf Resort’s menu using locally sourced products.
On Pennsylvania’s Shawnee Inn and Golf Resort’s spacious and secluded grounds guard bees congregate on the porch of the hives providing ventilation for the life of the queen. Six varieties of tomatoes, white eggplant, Chinese five-color peppers and multi-colored chard thrive in the middle of one of America’s oldest award-winning golf courses. Micro-beers are being bottled by a former electronics engineer of advanced defense weapons. Goat cheese is delivered fresh from a local farm. The mist on the Delaware River swirls through the tree-covered Pocono Mountains, and Frank Sinatra’s voice croons softly through the 100 year old lobby. This is the 21st Century?
“I deplore two principles in religion, obedience upon authority without conviction and destroying them that differ with me for Christ’ sake.” William Penn, (1644-1718) founder and Proprietor of Pennsylvania Colony
William Penn not only wished his colony to be a refuge for fellow Quakers but for all people – even Jews, unheard of in the 17th century. As a businessman, he intended that Pennsylvania would prosper to the benefit of all landholders. Land grants were made to a number of families within what is today Philadelphia and the four surrounding counties of Bucks, Montgomery, Chester and Delaware. A road system was planned as early as 1683 connecting the new townships to the city creating the best and most extensive systems of its day. Germantown Avenue/Pike extended from Philadelphia – today’s historic square mile Old City – linking important communities such as Northern Liberties, Germantown, Chestnut Hill, Plymouth Meeting, Evansburg and Collegeville.
Mennonites, Amish, Methodist, Presbyterians, Anglicans and Baptist all flocked to the new colony. The abundance of fertile land, water power, quarry and limestone brought the promised prosperity. German farmers brought the technology of burning limestone in kilns into powder that fertilized the farmland. Yet would the same groups that may have been both persecutor and persecuted during Europe’s interminable religious upheavals cooperate to govern the new towns? Would the “holy experiment” work?
Evansburgwas a very early 1700’s planned community in religious cooperation. Although Plymouth Meeting (1702) served the needs of area Quakers, The 1698 Norriton Presbyterian Church is one of the oldest churches anywhere in Pennsylvania. The beautiful tiny stone structure is surrounded by an American Revolutionary cemetery. The new building for the congregation is next door.
Quakers do not believe in proselytizing their beliefs, yet there was no issue when St. James Episcopal (Anglican) Church, 1721, established the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. The above 1780’s building was a recreation of the 1721 log church. The cemetery holds a number of Revolutionary War soldiers who died in the Battle of Germantown. In 1838 the building became one of America’s first public school buildings. Today it’s the St. James Community History Center.
Their current 19th century St. James Church is across the street. Next door, at 3814 Germantown Pike, is the 1737 Glebe House. A “glebe house” was a self-supporting farm for the Anglican priests of the parish. St. James’ is one of the earliest existing glebe houses in the American Episcopal Church.
Stephen Rush operated an Inn in his house (1803) and later purchased the Evansburg Inn. Stephen was related to Dr. Benjamin Rush, signer of the Declaration of Independence. The Rush house is private today, but the former Evansburg Inn is still serving food and spirits as Osteria Restaurant, 3835 Germantown Pike.
The Casselberry family is one of many that can trace their ancestry back to the founding of Pennsylvania, but are among the few still living on their original land. Henry Casselberry emigrated from Germany in 1683 settling in Evansburg in 1729, towards the end of his life. His son Derrick created a prosperous farm with his inheritance and built a sizable house in 1734. Now owned by a non-profit, it is undergoing restoration. A generation later, his daughter-in-law, Ann, purchased an elegant 1798 plaster-over-stone house and barn. The house, and barn, just north on Evansburg Road off Germantown Pike, is still the home of the Casselberry family.
The waterways of the region provided both transportation and power for dozens of mills throughout Penn’s colony. Skippack Creek in Evansburg State Park, which is the southern boundary of the town, provided the “fuel” for 18th and early 19th century industry such as Keyser’s Mill, now maintained by the Park.
In 1792 an eight arch stone bridge on Germantown Pike was constructed over the creek. On the National Register of Historic Places, this bridge is still in use! It’s considered the oldest bridge of its size in America certified to support heavy traffic.
If Evansburg is an example, William Penn’s Holy Experiment continues to succeed.
Philadelphia and its surrounding counties – Bucks, Montgomery, Chester and Delaware – were all part of the original land grant of Pennsylvania that William Penn received from King James II in the late 1600’s. Having alienated his famous father, Admiral Penn, by associating with that “radical religious cult,” the Society of Friends (Quakers), William took his inheritance to establish a utopia of free speech and social equality in the New World.
I grew up in historic Bucks County in the 1950/60’s when it had a population of 250,000 (over one-million in 2011) and there was so much open farmland I was always bored on a “dog-day” July afternoon because the world was so silent. It was a racially segregated society. There were some African-American families living in the county. Many worked on the large prosperous farms. My parents occasionally employed a local African-American resident (his family still lives in the area) to help around our 14-acres of (non-farm) land. He always had lunch with us, and he was always addressed as “Mr. …” – which was how we were taught to address adults. My parents were liberal Catholics. I was 11 years old when I lost my innocence concerning racial prejudice. An African-American farm-worker family enrolled their boys in our local Catholic school – the outcome was not pretty. I was shocked, horrified and puzzled at the racist reaction of my friends and their parents. The boys didn’t last long. It was the beginning, for me, of life-long realities.
In the 1860’s, Cheltenham Township, Montgomery County, consisted of large Quaker-owned farms. It became a favorite location for wealthy Colonial Philadelphians to establish country farm/estates. By the Civil War, 1860-1865, the area had attracted both the interest of wealthy investors and the Federal Army. Camp William Penn was created as the first, and only, Civil War training camp for Black soldiers. The site was deliberately chosen because, being within a Quaker community, there was less racial intolerance than within the city itself.
Lucretia Coffin Mott, born into a prominent New England Quaker family, settled in Philadelphia with her husband in the 1820’s and, with both their strong anti-slavery views, created one of the first anti-slavery societies in the country – as well as being a leader in women’s rights (Seneca Falls) and many other social issues. Her son-in-law, Edward M. Davis, was a wealthy Quaker who had a vast farm/estate in Cheltenham Township which she and her husband often retreated to when their home on 3rd. & Arch in the city became too frenetic. After the Civil War, Cheltenham became the focus of intense real estate development among wealthy Philadelphians – many non-Quakers: P.A.B. Widener, William Luken Elkins, John Wanamaker. With Quaker influence, a unique development formed.
As these wealthy families built their own vast estates and developed such exclusive communities as Wyncote, Glenside and Elkins Park, the influence of the Davis and Mott families encouraged these non-Quaker millionaires to act with a social conscience. Davis and Mott set aside land from their estate for African-American families – many were workers on neighboring estates – to rent and own their own dwellings. In the 1890’s one of the first home owners was the butler to Mr. William Elkins. Architecturally, there is nothing interesting about La Mott. The houses are classic working class bungalows, row houses and twins that are found in all Northeast coast cities. Yet it’s the reality that such a neighborhood existed at all with the opportunity of home ownership in the late 19th and early 20th centuries that is remarkable.
Of course, African-American’s were still segregated, and employers were the wealthy white residents of the Township. Right next door to La Mott, separated by an enclosed iron gate, is the still exclusive Latham Park in Elkins Park. This mile-long private boulevard is lined with spectacular examples of upper-class architecture of the early 1900’s, including a stunning mid-century modern (1972) currently on the market for $625,000.
Even given the obvious racial/class differentiation of the past – although today more than one Black family owns a Latham Park house – La Mott Historic District represents a seminal social shift in American racial attitudes and is a prized symbol among Philadelphia’s Black community.
At the apex of Victorian excess in both architecture and interior design, a quiet revolution was brewing among British and American artists. Reacting to dehumanizing industrial life in the late 19th century, a back to nature and handmade crafts movement was born. Architecture opened up interior space and utilized hand worked wood, chiseled stone, brass, copper and glass to mimic the forms of nature. Many architectural styles became common place in America between 1900 – 1945: Craftsman bungalow, Ranch house, the Prairie School and Mission Revival. Even landscape design was affected moving away from formal gardens to recreating the country side or a rural village within an urban setting (Frederick Law Olmstead’s New York Central Park).
By the late 1800’s, Lansdale, Pennsylvania, was connected to Philadelphia by rail making both a commute and shipping profitable. Like many Montgomery County towns along the line, Lansdale prospered. The brick and wooden row houses, sturdy Four Square brick homes of the middle class and the stone mansions of business families are all laid out in the predictable grid pattern of most American towns.
In 1912, Harry Richardson, son of a prominent Lansdale businessman, purchased land on the west edge of town and laid out 36 lots for what was to be an Arts and Crafts Movement village, Oak Park. Entering through the gate with its two classic early 1900’s tile mosaics, the narrow winding streets curve around irregular lots covered with trees and plant life. Oak Park was not meant to be a “cookie cutter” development so no two houses are alike. Many were designed by local architects and built over a 30 year period, several of the earliest were designed and built by Harry Richardson. Nearly all are modest in size which was a tenant of the Craftsman Movement. Unfortunately, unlike Wyncote Historic District, there does not seem to have been, or is, an owners association – which is logical given the free-thinking of the Arts and Crafts Movement. Yet this has resulted in houses not remaining true to their original designs and, in some cases, very poor maintenance.
Two of the earliest homes in Oak Park, Richardson’s 1912 bungalow and William Heebner’s 1915 bungalow typify the ideal that Oak Park was to represent – modest dwellings amidst gardens and trees in a country village enjoyed by well-to-do families. Unfortunately these two historic bungalows are in need of major maintenance.
In pristine condition is the 1915 Dutch Colonial Revival that architect Walter Slifer built for his mother. Slifer took advantage of the abundance of local stone as well as the classic Craftsman’s use of wood shingles. Next door is a stunning Prairie School style house designed by, unfortunately, an unknown architect. The Prairie style was perfected by Frank Lloyd Wright who in 1915 was at the peak of his success having designed many famous homes in that other Oak Park (Chicago suburb). This Oak Park house (picture below) is a classic Prairie style with its clean horizontal lines and understated decoration meant to compliment the clean lines of nature.
Harry Richardson wanted Oak Park to be a community of Craftsman bungalows and he basically succeeded with about one-third of the three dozen houses maintaining their structural and design integrity. The 1998 listing of Oak Park on the National Register of Historical Places will, hopefully, help preserve its architectural heritage.
Like many towns in the post-industrial Northeast, Lansdale went through a long period of economic decline which certainly discourages home maintenance. Fortunately, this decline began a reversal in the 1990’s and the town today sports many restored homes and commercial buildings covering the entire architectural history of Montgomery County since Colonial days.
Going to the ends of the Earth is fun, but I am rediscovering adventure in my own back yard.
“I wish my buildings had all been made of stone,” the architect states.
“Why?” was my puzzled response .
“Because they’d last a thousand years…”
And the thought did trail off as this architect reminisced over lobster on his 80th birthday. One month later Paul d’Entremont, AIA (1908-1988), award-winning architect, passed away. In the intervening years I have seen a few of his, and his firm’s (Haag & d’Entremont), buildings go under the wreaking ball, but most of them remain.
Yet much to my surprise, one mile away from my home, the Abington Township School District complex of 50 acres was declared a historic site in 1985 by the National Register of Historic Places. The four structures are suppose to span a century of municipal architecture, 1875 – 1975, but, unfortunately, due to nearsighted municipal decisions that is not true. The largest of the four is the mid-century modern Abington Senior High School designed by my father and the only structure of architectural significance.
True, brick does not survive the years as well as chiseled stone, but then perhaps my father didn’t realize that National Historic Register designation is a preservative in its own right (he never talked about it). After all, most of the Egyptian monuments were government built. Many of my dad’s were as well – suburban schools during the post-war boom of 1945 – 1970. Internationalism/Modernism of the 1930/1940’s was the artistic influence on my dad’s generation and his buildings expressed an exuberance in clean lines, bright open spaces and the latest technology in building materials.
The National Historic designation specifically mentions the 1875 Huntingdon Junior High School, which, unfortunately, was demolished some decades prior to this designation. The complex today includes the 1920/1940/1970’s athletic complex, my father’s mid-century modern Senior High School and the ugly Abington Junior High School. It is a 50 acre complex of educational/institutional buildings on the same site that originally included the 1875 school. Otherwise, except for Paul d’Entremont’s building, there is nothing of design significance or any visible reason why it has National Historic designation.
The youngest building is the Junior High School. I was not able to locate the name of the architect or construction dates despite an extensive search on the web, but perhaps that’s best. Looking at the building on a brilliantly sunny day with a blanket of white snow, the Junior High School resembled the worst in drab, gray institutional warehouse architecture. I find no pleasant lines within the structure. It’s design philosophy seems to be industrial effieiency – beginning with bus drop off. The theatre entrance resembles the trash pick-up area of most municipal structures. It’s fitting to represent this late century trend in “no-frills” architecture although I see nothing of design value.
Set amidst comfortable Abington Township in Pennsylvania’s Montgomery County, this campus of four structures is certainly complimented, and softened, by the still leafy country side. My dad would be pleased.
I travel to far away places to visit UNESCO World Heritage Sites and in the United States to experience regions of historic significance with little regard to the reality that National Historic Districts are, literally, in my back yard. Twenty-nine, to be exact, are within Montgomery County, Pennsylvania alone. The most recent addition, in 1986, is a 10 minute walk from my house.
The Wyncote Historic District does not honor any battles. It hasn’t particularly lived through any traumatic events – unless one counts the entire 20th century. It didn’t start as a community of hardship that developed into a national inspiration. Wyncote was a late 19th century Philadelphia suburban (semi) planned community for the wealthy. The Wyncote Historic District is a 108 acre area within Montgomery County’s Cheltenham Township ten miles north of downtown Philadelphia. Of the nearly 200 residential structures all but a handful were built between 1865 and 1934 – the golden age of Philadelphia’s industrial might – and designed by some of the leading names in architecture.
Prior to the 1850’s Cheltenham Township was a prosperous farming region consisting of land grants handed down by the Penn family in the 17th and 18th centuries. Even in colonial days, the area was a favored retreat from the city’s sweltering summers. Wealthy Philadelphians maintained country farm estates in this admittedly bucolic countryside or rented rooms and houses for the summer. The construction of the railroad linking Philadelphia with the coal-producing regions of northern Pennsylvania induced newly wealthy entrepeneurs, such as the Widener, Elkins, Tyler families to purchase large tracts of land for the dual purpose of constructing country homes for themselves and selling subdivisions to their friends and others of their class.
By the 1890’s the Wyncote Improvement Association was formed to ensure building codes, minimum house costs and lot sizes.
Frank Furness, nationally acclaimed architect (Reading Terminal, Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts) designed an exquisite little gem in 1898, All Hallows Episcopal Church. The then young Horace Trumbauer established his reputation with a number of houses in the district, and the Jenkintown/Wyncote Reading Railroad Train Station (still a busy commuter depot). Later in his career, Trumbauer would design some of the regions most stunning mansions, public buildings and commercial spaces.
By 1915 most development ended and Wyncote had the reputation as an exclusive community of wealthy residents. People from the managerial and professional elite of Philadelphia as well as indusrty heads lived in Wyncote – the Proctor family (Proctor-Silex Electrical Company), Cyrus H.K. Curtis (Curtis Publishing, Saturday Evening Post, Ladies’ Home Journal) and the Lippincott family (book publishing). Mary Louise Curtis Bok, daughter of Cyrus, an accomplished musician and founder of the Curtis Institute of Music, constructed a private concert hall and arboretum on their Wyncote estate. The 45-acre arboretum’s landscape was designed by Frederick Law Olmstead (New York’s Central Park). Curtis Hall and the arboretum were acquired by Cheltenham Township as a park in 1974.
The architecture of Wyncote illustrates the new and increasing role of university-trained architects in the design of turn-of-the century, upper-income houses in suburban America. The majority of architects working in Wyncote received their professional training in the new School of Architecture at the University of Pennsylvania. Queen Anne, Colonial Revival, Tudor, Craftsmen, Victorian and even medieval castles were all part of the eclectic mix coupled with rolling hills and large landscaped lots.
The 1986 designation as a Historic District was a major boost in preventing the decline and decay that take over so many older neighborhoods consisting of large houses that, let’s face it, require large maintenance costs. Pride in ownership is evident in the pristine condition of the district, despite high real estate taxes. This 1891 Craftsmen house with over 3,000 square feet, 5 bedrooms, etc, is currently on the market for $435,000 with annual real estate taxes over $10,000/year.
Wyncote has always been a nice area for walks and many a dog, including mine, use Curtis Arboretum daily. Yet how often does anyone think, “this might be significant?” Your own back yard – a heritage site? Who would have “thunk” it. Thanks National Register of Historic Places.
“It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.” W. T. Ellis
It is well documented that over the past 12,000 years of human existence, there has never been “peace on Earth” on any day. Is there a more visceral holiday wish for anyone that’s ever been fighting in war, or even amidst a war?
Holiday season, 1970, Dublin, Ireland. I am a 20-year-old student spending my 3rd year of university at Dublin’s National University (UCD). Walking back to my flat from a party, some time after 3:00 AM, through the peaceful quiet of St. Stephen’s Green, I pause to admire my favorite statue – Theobald Wolfe Tone, leader of the 1798 Rebellion. It wasn’t the first time I’d admired the striking, 10 foot modern bronze on its 3 foot tall square polished granite base. In the early morning Dublin mist, the abstract visage made me particularly mindful of the sacrifice (his life) that this wealthy Protestant gave to Ireland’s Nationalist cause. It was sometime after 3:30 AM when I continued on. Sometime shortly after 4:00 AM the statue vaporized – plastic explosives on the back side hidden by bushes. Fortunately, the only damage was to property.
19 December 1777, the Continental Army marched in to its 6-month winter encampment at Valley Forge. The village of Valley Forge was in the middle of the Great Valley, the wealthiest agricultural and industrial region (water powered mills) of the 13 colonies. Yet the enlisted men suffered through that Christmas nearly starving on “fire cake” (fried flour & water). For three weeks food was absurdly scarce to feed between 8,000 – 10,000 troops all due to incompetence and lack of central planning. Neither the enlisted men’s diaries nor Washington’s letters were kind during these weeks. By mid-January, the food issue was solved, but it was a bleak Christmas.
For me, the Web’s greatest asset is its ability to tell people’s stories. The earliest tragedy of World War I was its failure to be over by Christmas 1914 – as so much propaganda had predicted. Of all the poignant moments within the catastrophe of that pointless war was the famous Christmas Truce of 1914. In the late 1980’s singer/songwriter John McCutcheon told of this event with heart-rending lyrics. The creator of this U-Tube video of John’s song has paired the lyrics with moving art and photos.
The bitterly satirical 1969 film, Oh! What a Lovely War effectively dramatizes this seminal event:
In recent years, revisionist have questioned this incident citing that it romanticized war. Recent scholarship indicates such Christmas Day truces, unofficial although many may have been, did exist – and not just in World War I.
Yet the bitter irony of juxtaposing the sacred and the profane is belted out later in Oh! What a Lovely War when a soldier sings, “It was Christmas Day in the cookhouse, the happiest time of the year, Men’s hearts were full of gladness and their bellies full of beer, When up popped Private Shorthouse, his face as bold as brass, He said, We don’t want your puddings, you can stick them up your tidings of co-omfort and joy, comfort and joy, o-oh ti-idings of co-omfort and joy. It was Christmas Day in the harem, the eunuchs were standing ’round, And hundreds of beautiful women were stretched out on the ground, Along came the wicked Sultan, surveying his marble halls. He said, Whaddya want for Christmas boys, and the eunuchs answered tidings of co-omfort and joy, comfort and joy, o-oh ti-idings of comfort and joy…” (Oh! What a Lovely War (1969)
The Wall House in Elkins Park, PA, dates from 1688. It has seen a lot of war. Two rooms are devoted to its World War II era residents. Besides letters to and from the Front among family members, holiday trees reflected the realities of war. In the picture above, center, is a field hospital “tree” decorated with blue and white ribbon/paper and painted tongue depresses. To the right, is a small living room tree decorated in paper and tin ornaments. The prized German-made glass ornaments were unavailable and unpatriotic.
“I had always thought there was no recognizable smell for impending death, but this country reeked of it…It was everywhere, no one left unscathed, no one left untouched, no one emotionally unscarred…It was the only time in my life I’ve ever felt a mutual, unconditional love for man and mankind…” James Worthington, Silent, Holy Night: Respite in Vietnam
I traveled in Vietnam in March 2010. That same 20-year-old kid that escaped being vaporized in 1970 along with Theobald Wolfe Tone, narrowly missed being drafted earlier that year in the first military draft lottery, or at best this might have been my second trip. I know/knew Vietnam Vets, some are no longer alive having succumbed to the demons of post-war life. I was lucky. Instead of Vietnam, I was in Ireland that Christmas. In his memoir, Silent, Holy Night: Respite in Vietnam, John Worthington reminds me what Christmas 1970 may have been like.
Peace on Earth, a tenuous dream that we humans never want to give up, yet never want to try. Worldwide, we celebrate our cycles of rebirth year after year – solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah – hoping that some year the magic will work. Let’s not stop the hope.