Drag Races and Such at Dorney

Dorney Park is celebrating it's 125th Anniversary, as noted by The Morning Call and Remember*, by blogger Andrew Kleiner. A landmark that old, has provided memories for five generations. As a teenager in the 1960's, friday nights at Castle Rock, a dance hall from the twenties, were literally a Freddy Cannon moment. Park admission was free, and there were many attractions which no longer exist, most victim to fire. In addition to the dance hall, there was also a roller skating ring and a stock car race track. The picture above was part of a large neon sign on Hamilton Blvd., on the northwest corner with Cedar Crest Blvd.

In 2007 John Travolta,dressed in drag, portrayed Hollywood's version of Hairspray, initially made by campy underground film maker John Waters, and shot at Dorney Park in 1988. Travolta's part was originally played by a less wholesome, real life female impersonator named Devine, who died shortly after the movie was released.

In my father's time, you could get the trolley at 8th and Hamilton and take it to Dorney Park. Through the 1980's, you could still drive on the road which went right through the middle of the park. Now, combined with a water park, Dorney has become a regional attraction. Busloads of children and families come from New York and elsewhere, but it will always remain a rite of passage for local youngsters.

* rememberkleiner.blogspot.com                                                                                           reprinted from May 2009

Sacred Cows

Yesterday's post questioning the expanded mission of a popular local charity drew only one reaction from a indignant reader, I thought there would be more. Alfonso Todd, local activist, actually complimented the concept of applying diligence to our giving. About twenty years ago I formally opposed a Habitat For Humanity Project. Their plan for three new houses would have blocked the side window in a property I managed, denying my dwelling both light and air. Habitat's plan was endorsed by the City, The Redevelopment Authority and defended by the city solicitor. After the hearing, at which I prevailed, Habitats Regional Director came up to apologize to me. Seems they went with their standard straight wall plan to save time and money, even though everyone knew blocking a neighbors window was improper. He told me they were such a sacred cow that nobody had ever opposed them before. UPDATE: I reprint this post from May of 2008 to provide a reality check to the current controversy over the proposal by the Lehigh County Commissioners to eliminate an additional tax for Affordable Housing. Although the Habitat homes were to be helped built by the lucky recipients, they never in reality put in any sweat equity. The reality was one organized group after another lining up to work and feel good about themselves. One home was occupied by recent immigrants to Bethlehem, the other two by relatives of the first family, who also came directly from outside the area. A statement in today's Morning Call about the North Street Project costing more than the homes sell for is correct. Build a stronger poverty magnet, infuse it with guilt and few strong advocates,  let it simmer for twenty years, and you get Allentown.

Growing Up Parkway

I'm a baby boomer. I was born in December of 1946. As soon as my mother climbed out of the hospital bed, another woman climbed in. I grew up in the neighborhood now called Little Lehigh Manor, wedged between Lehigh Street and the top of the ravine above Lehigh Parkway. That's me on our lawn at the intersection of Catalina and Liberator Avenues, named after airplanes made by Vultee Corporation for the War. We had our own elementary school, our own grocery store, and the park to play in. On Saturdays, older kids would take us along on the trolley, and later the bus, over the 8TH Street Bridge to Hamilton Street. There were far too many stores to see everything. After a matinee of cartoons or Flash Gordon, and a banana split at one of the five and dimes, we would take the bus back over the bridge to Lehigh Street.




Not that many people know where Lehigh Parkway Elementary School is. It's tucked up at the back of the development of twin homes on a dead end street, but I won't say exactly where. I do want to talk about the photograph. It's May Day, around 1952-53. May Day was big then, so were the unions; Most of the fathers worked at the Steel, Mack, Black and Decker, and a hundred other factories going full tilt after the war. The houses were about 8 years old, and there were no fences yet. Hundreds of kids would migrate from one yard to another, and every mother would assume some responsibility for the herd when it was in her yard. Laundry was hung out to dry. If you notice, most of the "audience" are mothers, dads mostly were at work. I'm at the front, right of center, with a light shirt and long belt tail. Don't remember the girl, but see the boy in front of me with the big head? His father had the whole basement setup year round with a huge model train layout. There were so many kid's, the school only went up to second grade. We would then be bused to Jefferson School for third through sixth grade. The neighborhood had its own Halloween Parade and Easter egg hunt. We all walked to school, no one being more than four blocks away. Years ago when I met my significant other, she told me she taught at an elementary school on the south side, but that I would have no idea where it was.

compilation of two posts from June 2008

reproduced and retitled from Dec. 21, 2009, reprinted from June 2011

The Morning Call's Lost Memory

A lead story in today's Morning Call features the temporary construction jobs created by the arena, which will end by 2014. Although the article was written by two reporters, and included proud quotes from the city's community development director, none of them know or appreciate the thousands of jobs that block provided for over 100 years. The Palace of Sport and False Hope is not being build on previously vacant land, but on Allentown's mercantile history. While the reporters wrote about what the job means to one construction worker, they never showed the same sensitivity toward the displaced former merchants. Ironically, over the years, those 34 demolished buildings  provided the paper with many advertising dollars. We will see how revenue comes to The Morning Call from the arena.

CastleRock

CastleRock took place in the cavernous Dorney Park dance-hall, Castle Garden. The "Garden" was built in the early 20's and hosted all the famous big bands of that era. By the late fifties it was called CastleRock. The Philadelphia recording stars, such as Frankie Avalon and Freddy Cannon would routinely perform. By my teenage era, in the early mid 60's, it was mostly disc jockeys. The Park was free, no admission. Pay to park, and maybe a buck or so for the dance-hall.







By then the nightclub tables shown in the photograph were gone, and sitting was around the sides. There were no shootings, and rowdiness was restricted to sneaking on a ride without buying a ticket. The dance-hall overlooked the lake, it was destroyed by a fire on Thanksgiving in 1985.

Reprinted from January 2010

Allentown 1951

1951 was a good year for Allentown. Industry found the combination of location and work ethic conducive to production. Western Electric had built their new plant on Union Boulevard in 1948. General Electric joined Mack Trucks on the south side. General MacArthur himself visited the fair that year. Hamilton Street benefited from a retail genius, Max Hess. When the Allentown High basketball team won the state championship that year, the celebration took place late that night, at 7th and Hamilton. Although Lehigh Valley Diary was built in the late 1940's, there was very little way out on 7th Street. The Allentown Cardinals played at the stadium, Breadon Field, now occupied by the Lehigh Valley Mall.