Philadelphia

On Thursday, June 27, Klaus and I visited the historic section of Philadelphia.  I managed to leave the motel without my camera!  In any case, we took the SEPTA train from Doylestown to the Market South Station, and then walked about five blocks to the visitor center.  Here we picked up tickets for Independence Hall, with our tour scheduled for a couple hours later.

These free tickets allow the Park Service to control the flow of visitors through Independence Hall, which would otherwise be mobbed.  Tourists go in groups of about 75, shepherded by a Park Service guide who explains the building's role in American history.  The children on our tour clearly knew a lot about the Revolutionary Period!

The Bell with Independence Hall behind.  (Wikimedia Photo)

With time on our hands, Klaus and I first went to see the Liberty Bell, certainly the most iconic symbol of America and its type of government.  The Bell is housed in its own building.  You access it by passing through a series of displays explaining aspects of the Bell's history and its appeal to Americans and others across the generations.

For example, I was interested to learn that the Bell's famous crack resulted from an effort to fix a far less serious defect.  The cure proved worse than the disease!  I can think of several issues, e.g., the right of women to make their own health care decisions without the assistance of male politicians, where this example ought to be followed.

Klaus at the Liberty Bell.

One thing is clear — the Liberty Bell is a much-desired backdrop for photos.  The Bell itself stands in a bay of the building, surrounded by a small rope barrier and mobs of tourists from the four corners of the earth.  Everyone wants their photo made against the Bell!  So Klaus and I followed suit.  Someday I'd like to go back and just meditate awhile on what the Bell means.  That would have to be in the dead of winter, when the tourists are not swarming!

From there we walked over to the American Philosophical Society Building, just across the street from the Hall.  This is a library, founded in 1743 by Benjamin Franklin and devoted to scientific research.  On display in its entrance foyer are two treasures of American history.  One is a draft of the Declaration of Independence in Thomas Jefferson's own hand.  The second is a notebook in which Lewis and Clark recorded their expedition of 1804-06.  For me, this was the most memorable stop on our tour of historic Philadelphia.

The Philosophical Society building features a statue of
Ben Franklin in a toga.  He looks like he just finished his bath!

Finally, we took our place in line to tour Independence Hall and soon found ourselves in the building itself.  On one side is a courtroom where Pennsylvania's major court would sit.  On the other side is the meeting room in which the Declaration of Independence was agreed to, and later, in which the Constitution was hammered out.  The meeting room is not a large space; compared to the Senate and House chambers in Washington, D.C., this is little more than a broom closet.  But it was here that great deeds were done!

I asked about the furniture.  Our guide assured me that the furniture all dates "from the period," as does the chandelier.  However, it appears that none of the furniture, save for the chair in which George Washington sat during the Constitutional Convention, is original.  That's hardly surprising.  No one at that time was thinking about history, but first about winning independence and then keeping the American ship of state afloat!

Klaus (at bottom right) in front of
Independence Hall.

We had a delightful chat with one of the Park Service guides regarding the role of the Anglican Church in pre-revolutionary America.  When he discovered that I am an Episcopal priest, he seemed happy to talk with us while letting the other tourists browse the artifacts on display.  This brief interlude made it clear that Park Service personnel really love what they do, and probably know more about American history than many professors who teach it at university.

After lunch Klaus and I wandered back to the Market South station and somehow managed to get on the wrong train.  We spent a pleasant, but unintended, hour traveling through the Philadelphia suburbs. In due course we found our way back to Doylestown. •••