Memorial Day Routine

Parade front banner



Antique Car



Obligatory fire engine

Ready to cross the Delaware

   Here are a few of my photographic memories of this year’s parade.   Like most people, I guess, I love Memorial Day.  Not just because it is a day off, and not just because of the picnics.  And it is not just because it’s a kind of gateway to the summer.   I live in Langhorne Borough, which runs a parade every Memorial Day, weather permitting.   Since our house is on the parade route, we invite a lot of people, and we have many regulars who I see on Memorial Day, but rarely or never see any other time.  Most of the people who show up are my brother’s friends, since he has plenty of old childhood friends for the area that he keeps in touch with.   People come from all over the area (and some from afar) to see the parade.  It also brings back the kids who grew up in the neighborhood, and now have children of their own.  Every Memorial Day they come back and bring their kids.

   As usual, the weather was hot and humid this year.  There have been rainy days, there have been cool days, but sunny hot and humid seems to be the norm for Memorial Day where I live.  And, as usual, there is a routine.  After all the fixing and cleaning the house, and the shopping, the day finally arrives and we set up the front lawn.  Every year, most of the time is spent sitting on our lawn chairs, waiting for the parade to arrive, while the shade slowly rolls away.  By the time the parade comes around, most of that shade is gone, and we are baking in the open sun.

  There is also a routine to the parade itself.   It has generally been the same parade every year.  We know which bands will be marching in it.  We know which fire companies will bring their engines, which scout troops will be there, and which athletic groups will bring their teams.  There was one really unusual thing, which I hadn’t seen in any parade before.  A few people had the idea of walking along the side of the parade in Sasquatch suits.  However, it seems that the Sasquatch is turning up everywhere today, especially in tv commercials.  Those guys in the suits probably sweat off a few pounds, as did the firemen, who marched and rode their trucks in full dress uniform, and the revolutionary war re-enactors, who wore their full continental army uniforms.

  Once the parade has passed by, everyone picks up their chairs and everything moves to the backyard.  I think this routine is duplicated in every house in Langhorne, and probably thousands of homes all across America, as they all have their own parades and backyard barbeques.  It’s a routine that I like, and here are some of the pictures from that routine. 

Apocalypse Deferred

Thursday, May 26.  Our street is quiet as usual.

  It was about three years ago when I first heard of this.  A friend of mine asked me if I knew that Jesus was going to return on May 21, 2011. This surprised me.  He had told me he listened to Family Radio regularly, but I thought he knew better than to buy into any of Harold Camping’s date setting.  In fact, I thought Camping was done with trying to set dates after the 1994 fiasco.  I was wrong in both cases.  I watched the online debates between Campingites and, well, everyone else.  I watched as the day approached, while the campaigning by his followers caught the attention of the media and became a circus.  Needless to say, when May 21, 2011 arrived there was no rapture or earthquake.  For most people, it was just a regular Saturday.

  For the Campingites, however, it was a disappointment, maybe the biggest of their lives.  They were led to believe that the Bible guaranteed that Saturday would be their last day on earth, and after that, all their troubles would be over.  They supposedly had irrefutable evidence.  To many of them, it was inconceivable that they would still be on earth at this time.  Now they must pick up where they left off with their lives.  And they will have to look at the little souveniers of their campaign and wonder what they will do with them.

  The billboard on I-95 in Philadelphia was still up the next morning, still proclaiming May 21 as judgment day.  I would like to have taken a picture of it, but I was driving.  The judgment day proclamations were still up on the Campingite websites, although the main Family Radio site was unreachable due to heavy traffic. Then there are all the t-shirts, bumper stickers, and painted vehicles.   They now look like Christmas and New Year’s decorations that are still left hanging after January 2.

 I called my friend on Monday, but haven’t heard back yet.  I hope to talk to him soon.  I wonder what was going through his mind when Saturday passed uneventfully.  As for Camping, he made his position clear Monday night.  It looks like this is all over, but there are probably still some diehard followers now proclaiming that the rapture still happened, just not physically.  And that everything will still end as scheduled on October 21.     

Peaceable Kingdom (in the) Park

  I had walked past this park several times before, but didn’t really notice the theme until now.  Peaceable Kingdom Park is a small corner park in Newtown, Pa (Bucks).  The statue pictured above has an obvious theme, resembling the vision in Isaiah 11:6. Not all the animals listed in that verse are sculpted here.  Just the lion and the lamb lying together with the little child who "...will lead them”.

  I don’t know much about the history of the park, but it almost certainly dedicated in honor of Edward Hicks, a 19^th century Bucks County Painter and Quaker minister.  The park is named after his most famous painting, which hangs in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC. His works are famous for their visual portrayal of his Quaker beliefs. 

  Other than the sculpture, there are a few playground accessories that look to be made of plastic.  There are sliding boards and some play congas, bongos, and maracas, which make fairly genuine instrument sounds.  I don’t know if any of these things are supposed to fit into the theme, or create one of their own.  I guess if the kids like it, that’s good enough in itself.

One Day in the Pine Barrens

Mullica River

Along the Trail

My brother Matt crossing the twisted bridge

  It’s raining today, so I’m pulling something out of my archives.  These photos are from a hike I took in the New Jersey Pine Barrens three years ago.  It was something I had wanted to do for a while, and I had finally worked out a plan with my brothers to do it.  We picked a trail in the Wharton State Forest, which went through the Batsto Historic Village.  After passing through the village, it went along the Mullica River, which forms the border between Burlington and Atlantic Counties.  We were about 15 miles inland from the Atlantic Ocean, but except for the sand, it didn’t seem to me like the ocean was nearby.

 Once we got past the village, we crossed Batsto Lake and the Batsto River, which would soon run into the Mullica.  When we came to the trail along the Mullica, the first bridge crossing it was a bit of a challenge, since it had been damaged by a flood about a month earlier.  It was now twisted, somewhat like a roller coaster track, and one end was nearly in the vertical position.  That was about the hardest challenge of the hike.  I’m not a serious hiker, or an adventure seeker, anyway.   The rest of the way was just flat South Jersey terrain, with little noticeable elevation gain.  Since this was the Pine Barrens, the trail was mostly sand, and I usually walked along the edge, where it was more packed.  I have never been out in the desert, but walking through the Pine Barrens reminded me a little of the desert pictures I’ve seen.  We went a few miles, and then stopped to eat lunch before returning.  I don’t know how far the trail went.  We could have gone further, but decided to make our way back.

  Normally, I pass through the Pine Barrens twice a year, going to and from Long Beach Island.  The last leg of the trip was route 72, which runs through a seemingly endless forest of 10 foot tall fir pines.  I would always think of pulling over and getting some pictures, but I never actually did.  That was simply because I went to the shore in late July, and it was almost always hot and humid going to the island and back.  I never felt like getting out of the air conditioned car in the 90 degree heat.   Doing this hike gave me a chance to walk through the pines and get some shots without having to stop and jump in and out of the car.  

  I hope to go back to the Pine Barrens and get some more pictures soon.  I’d like to see the Carranza Memorial, and get some pictures for the Apple Pie Hill fire tower, which is the highest point in the Pine Barrens.  I am also doing some reading about the area.  There are all kinds of legends and folklore coming from there.  It has also managed to remain rural.  There has been some development, and of course all roads to the shore run through it, at least from where I’m coming.  But it has somehow been able to avoid being absorbed by the sprawl coming from Philadelphia and Central and Northern New Jersey.  

Pictures of Delaware Canal Park

Grundy Industrial Complex



Gazebo at the park




The park in autumn



  In the 19th century, coal reigned as the main home heating fuel.  In the basement there was a furnace where the coal would be burned, and the heat would move through the house from a vent directly above.  Or, the house would be heated from the coal stove in the kitchen.  In the earliest days of the coal boom, the Lehigh and Delaware Canals were the main thoroughfare through which coal would be transported from the mountains in Northeast Pennsylvania.  The canal system declined after the Lehigh Railroad was built, and quickly replaced it as the main transportation device for coal.  Although the canals were still used in some capacity until the 1930's, they were increasingly obsolete from the latter half of the 19th century onward.  The anthracite boom itself would end in the 1920's, when oil replaced coal as the main home heating element.   After that, the canal area was sold off to the municipalities that it ran through.  In some places, it was filled in, and in others, like Bristol as shown here, at least some of it was preserved and used as park space.   In the above pictures of Delaware Canal State Park, a small section was dammed up into a pond with footbridges and a fountain.  It stands as both a public recreation facility and as a memorial to a forgotten way of life.

  Less than a mile from where I took these pictures, there is a municipal parking lot where the marina once stood.   That marina was the terminal of the Lehigh and Delaware Canal systems, and at that point the cargo would be loaded onto a freight ship and taken to its destination.  After that, the horses and drivers would start on their 100 mile journey back up the Delaware and Lehigh Rivers to Mauch Chunk and pick up another load of coal, and make the journey down to Bristol again.

Indian Rock

 Bucks County Community College was a blessing for me.  For one thing, just about any resident of Bucks County could get in.  I never had to take an SAT.  BCCC was dirt cheap compared to the four year universities, and the quality of the education was exceptional.  In addition, the campus sits in a nice rural environment.  Although there are housing developments, shopping centers, and highways nearby, it was removed far enough from these things to provide its own sense of isolation.  This is mainly because it borders Tyler State Park.  Across the road from Bucks is another small community park.  That left the campus fairly well surrounded by woods, farms, and fields.

 After classes, and during the afternoons when I was on campus, my favorite place to go was Indian Rock, which was a rocky ledge on a steep hill overlooking the Neshaminy Creek and Tyler Park.  To get there, I would walk along the patio of Tyler Hall, which was once a mansion, and down a set of stairs to the rocks, which actually form their own natural steps.   It was a frequent hangout for a lot of students on their downtime, but it was usually vacant when I went there.

 I wish I could have finished my degree right there at Bucks, even if I had to pay regular university tuition for the last two years.  Later, something like that was possible, at least for a while.  Bucks partnered with Temple to allow students to complete their bachelor’s right there on the Newtown Campus, for certain majors.  (They may have also had a similar deal with LaSalle, but I don’t remember).  However, I think that program was discontinued.   I still visit Bucks fairly often, and I’ll sometimes take a class there.  And  I still go to Indian Rock.

Slow Train Coming?

Looking North

...and looking South

   I took these pictures a year ago at the Quakertown train station in Pennsylvania, which is near the northern end of a proposed passenger line.  As the pictures show, the tracks are in use and well maintained.  At this time, however, it has been 30 years since any passenger trains have picked up any commuters from the platform shown here.  The demand and ridership declined to the point that continuation of passenger service was no longer feasible, and trains were discontinued north of Lansdale, about 20 miles down the tracks.  Since then, this line has been used only for freight service.  However, when the passenger trains were stopped, change was just around the corner for the Quakertown area.  About 5 years after the discontinuation of the line, a building boom hit Central Bucks County.  In the late 80’s, construction was completed on I-78, which rerouted the highway south.  The new stretch of highway ran just above the county line, a few miles north of Quakertown.  That opened Upper Bucks and the Lehigh Valley up to an influx of professionals working in New York and New Jersey, who saw the area as an ideal bedroom community.  Many of the farms disappeared and were replaced by houses and shopping centers. There were now a lot more people in the area, and with them a lot more cars on the local roads.  For a while now, since at least the late 1990s, restoration of passenger train service has been proposed and discussed.

  All of this said, there are questions I have.  First, is there a need for the Quakertown train line to be restored, and for passenger trains to be once again running past the spot where I took these pictures?  I personally think anything that reduces the number of cars on the road is beneficial.  However, will enough people take the trains if they become available?  Would they still rather drive to Philadelphia?  I don’t think regular commuters to Philadelphia would prefer driving down the Northeast Extension of the turnpike, or route 309, and deal with rush hour traffic twice a day, all the way to and from Center City.  And for that matter, are there enough people there who commute to Philadelphia regularly to necessitate and facilitate the restoration of these trains?  Apparently there are, or the restoration of a train line to Philadelphia wouldn’t be proposed in the first place.

  As it stands now, the proposal has been revised for the line to stop in Sellersville, about 8 miles north of Lansdale.  That would leave the rest of the line for freight use only, and I guess pictures taken at Quakertown station in the future will still look similar to the pictures I posted here.  But there is still a desire among officials and planners to at least connect Quakertown to the train line by bus.  It seems that one way or another, somebody believes transit will work in Upper Bucks County.