CITY HALL - PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

City Hall tower, completed in 1894, marks the close of…an era fraught with national conflicts and marked by rapid industrial development. Rising 547 feet, it was at the time of its completion the tallest tower in the country with the exception of the Washington Monument, which is about eight feet taller.
It is surmounted by a huge, bronze statue of William Penn contemplating from on high the cold gray of his once quaint and charming red brick “towne.” The tower itself is an epitaph to the age of masonry. Even while it was being erected, advances in the technique of steel and concrete construction were pointing the way to a new architecture. …
The four-faced tower clock, a colossal mechanism with illuminated dials which are visible for a great distance, has been Philadelphia’s official timepiece since 1899. Shortly after the clock was installed the city inaugurated a custom which still continues. Every evening at three minutes of nine the tower lights are turned off, and then turned on again on the hour. This enables those within observation distance, though unable to see the hands, to set their timepieces.
— Philadelphia, A Guide To the Nation’s Birthplace (WPA, 1937)

This picture is of one of my favorite buildings in Philly. City Hall is honestly one of those buildings that make you stop and stare.
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Joe Schaefer was born and raised in New Jersey but now studies Film and Photojournalism at Temple University. Most of his photography is based around Philadelphia and other parts of Pennsylvania. Follow him on Tumblr at joeschaeferphotography.tumblr.com and find him on Twitter and YouTube.

This dispatch arrived care of THE AMERICAN GUIDE submission page. Be a guide yourself and send a post from your state: theamericanguide.org/submit.
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CITY HALL - PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

City Hall tower, completed in 1894, marks the close of…an era fraught with national conflicts and marked by rapid industrial development. Rising 547 feet, it was at the time of its completion the tallest tower in the country with the exception of the Washington Monument, which is about eight feet taller.

It is surmounted by a huge, bronze statue of William Penn contemplating from on high the cold gray of his once quaint and charming red brick “towne.” The tower itself is an epitaph to the age of masonry. Even while it was being erected, advances in the technique of steel and concrete construction were pointing the way to a new architecture. …

The four-faced tower clock, a colossal mechanism with illuminated dials which are visible for a great distance, has been Philadelphia’s official timepiece since 1899. Shortly after the clock was installed the city inaugurated a custom which still continues. Every evening at three minutes of nine the tower lights are turned off, and then turned on again on the hour. This enables those within observation distance, though unable to see the hands, to set their timepieces.

Philadelphia, A Guide To the Nation’s Birthplace (WPA, 1937)

This picture is of one of my favorite buildings in Philly. City Hall is honestly one of those buildings that make you stop and stare.

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Joe Schaefer was born and raised in New Jersey but now studies Film and Photojournalism at Temple University. Most of his photography is based around Philadelphia and other parts of Pennsylvania. Follow him on Tumblr at joeschaeferphotography.tumblr.com and find him on Twitter and YouTube.

This dispatch arrived care of THE AMERICAN GUIDE submission page. Be a guide yourself and send a post from your state: theamericanguide.org/submit.

EASTON, PENNSYLVANIA

The city is a composite of a hurried commercial present and a sedate mercantile past, leavened by a carefree college atmosphere. Coeds, dressed according to the dictates of Hollywood, and college boys in sports clothes and near-white buckskin shoes worn without regard for time or season, rub elbows with frugal Pennsylvania Germans. 

— Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940)

My husband’s family is from Easton so we visit often. Easton’s between NYC and Philadelphia but its own strong character dominates. The historic presence of its colonial architecture and the Pennsylvania-German and Italian-American communities enrich local culture. Everywhere there is evidence of people hit hard by recession. You can still get a great shoo-fly pie at the local diner, gnocchi at the Legion, and - last time I was there - tube steaks at “James-on-the-Delaware” aka Jimmy’s Hotdog Stand.

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Jeanne McRight grew up in Wilmington, Delaware and now lives near Toronto. Follow her on Tumblr at jeannemcright.tumblr.com and see more of her work here

This dispatch arrived care of THE AMERICAN GUIDE submission page. Be a guide yourself and send a post from your state: theamericanguide.org/submit.

PENN HILLS, PENNSYLVANIA 
Penn Hills, Pennsylvania is a community in transition. As a first-ring suburb, it currently faces issues of population loss and aging infrastructure. And how innovative its municipal government can be with its limited resources will greatly determine how Penn Hills will move forward. The neighborhood of Lincoln Park’s place in Penn Hills is even more precarious. Most recently, for example, the residents of Lincoln Park defeated a redistricting measure that would have taken their neighborhood out of Penn Hills and moved it into a poorer, adjacent district. Despite these challenges, what remains special about Penn Hills is its vibrant community, and residents who have a strong sense of civic pride.
- Into the Wild: Santiago Street - 
When I parked my car at the end of Santiago Street in Lincoln Park, I half expected to find a cul-de-sac devoid of houses. That’s because days earlier, during a conversation with Chris Blackwell, principal planner from the Penn Hills Department of Planning and Economic Development, he told me how his department had demolished nearly all the street’s blighted properties in recent years. “There’s almost nothing left down there,” he said. “Almost” was the key word.
Once a quiet suburban cul-de-sac that boasted upwards of 20 or more homes, the housing stock on Santiago has dwindled to almost nothing in the last two decades. Today only four houses remain on the street. Two are vacant, with broken windows and kicked-in garage doors, weeds sprouting from gutters and trash bags lying heaped in the driveways. Two are not.
In one of the homes that appeared to be inhabited, I heard a TV set blaring and could see the dull glow of its screen. There were no signs of people, however. Allegheny County assessment records show that a man named Martin Lloyd owns the home. I would have walked the steep staircase leading to the front door, knocked and introduced myself explaining that I was a journalist working on a story, but for whatever reason, my fear won out. Maybe it was my knowledge of Lincoln Park’s sordid history that gave me pause, or knowing that people who live in isolated areas sometimes do so for a reason. However unfounded my fear may have been, I listened to instinct. Instead I walked the empty street taking photographs, waiting to see some signs of life. When I returned to my car, I opened my notepad and jotted down house numbers.
The legacy of Santiago Street and its near-death is most likely tied to foreclosures or owner abandonment that took place sometime back in the 1990s, Blackwell said. He assured me it had nothing to do with the recent string of mortgage foreclosures that have plagued the Pennsylvania suburb in the wake of the Great Recession. Regardless of how it came to be, the municipality of Penn Hills — where Santiago Street is located — now owns much of the vacant property.
Santiago Street is located off Mount Carmel Road and dead-ended on one side by a massive property housing a demolition and excavation company. That essentially makes Santiago Street, and its surrounding streets and alleyways, their own micro-province. That day the tall weeds lining the hillside at the end of Santiago swayed like prairie grass, moved by the warm August breeze. Wild rabbits darted back and forth between overgrown hedges. In the near distance, beyond a sign that discouraged dumping trash or parking your car, I heard two dogs howl, followed by a man’s voice that occasionally yelled to quiet them. But still I saw no one.
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Matthew Newton is a writer, journalist and editor from Western Pennsylvania. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Esquire, Forbes and Guernica, among other publications. He’s currently at work on No Place For Disgrace, a series of nonfiction stories about the life and death of the suburban dream. You can find him on his website blog.matthewnewton.us, or at the journal he founded, Annals of Americus.
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PENN HILLS, PENNSYLVANIA 
Penn Hills, Pennsylvania is a community in transition. As a first-ring suburb, it currently faces issues of population loss and aging infrastructure. And how innovative its municipal government can be with its limited resources will greatly determine how Penn Hills will move forward. The neighborhood of Lincoln Park’s place in Penn Hills is even more precarious. Most recently, for example, the residents of Lincoln Park defeated a redistricting measure that would have taken their neighborhood out of Penn Hills and moved it into a poorer, adjacent district. Despite these challenges, what remains special about Penn Hills is its vibrant community, and residents who have a strong sense of civic pride.
- Into the Wild: Santiago Street - 
When I parked my car at the end of Santiago Street in Lincoln Park, I half expected to find a cul-de-sac devoid of houses. That’s because days earlier, during a conversation with Chris Blackwell, principal planner from the Penn Hills Department of Planning and Economic Development, he told me how his department had demolished nearly all the street’s blighted properties in recent years. “There’s almost nothing left down there,” he said. “Almost” was the key word.
Once a quiet suburban cul-de-sac that boasted upwards of 20 or more homes, the housing stock on Santiago has dwindled to almost nothing in the last two decades. Today only four houses remain on the street. Two are vacant, with broken windows and kicked-in garage doors, weeds sprouting from gutters and trash bags lying heaped in the driveways. Two are not.
In one of the homes that appeared to be inhabited, I heard a TV set blaring and could see the dull glow of its screen. There were no signs of people, however. Allegheny County assessment records show that a man named Martin Lloyd owns the home. I would have walked the steep staircase leading to the front door, knocked and introduced myself explaining that I was a journalist working on a story, but for whatever reason, my fear won out. Maybe it was my knowledge of Lincoln Park’s sordid history that gave me pause, or knowing that people who live in isolated areas sometimes do so for a reason. However unfounded my fear may have been, I listened to instinct. Instead I walked the empty street taking photographs, waiting to see some signs of life. When I returned to my car, I opened my notepad and jotted down house numbers.
The legacy of Santiago Street and its near-death is most likely tied to foreclosures or owner abandonment that took place sometime back in the 1990s, Blackwell said. He assured me it had nothing to do with the recent string of mortgage foreclosures that have plagued the Pennsylvania suburb in the wake of the Great Recession. Regardless of how it came to be, the municipality of Penn Hills — where Santiago Street is located — now owns much of the vacant property.
Santiago Street is located off Mount Carmel Road and dead-ended on one side by a massive property housing a demolition and excavation company. That essentially makes Santiago Street, and its surrounding streets and alleyways, their own micro-province. That day the tall weeds lining the hillside at the end of Santiago swayed like prairie grass, moved by the warm August breeze. Wild rabbits darted back and forth between overgrown hedges. In the near distance, beyond a sign that discouraged dumping trash or parking your car, I heard two dogs howl, followed by a man’s voice that occasionally yelled to quiet them. But still I saw no one.
* * *
Matthew Newton is a writer, journalist and editor from Western Pennsylvania. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Esquire, Forbes and Guernica, among other publications. He’s currently at work on No Place For Disgrace, a series of nonfiction stories about the life and death of the suburban dream. You can find him on his website blog.matthewnewton.us, or at the journal he founded, Annals of Americus.
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PENN HILLS, PENNSYLVANIA 
Penn Hills, Pennsylvania is a community in transition. As a first-ring suburb, it currently faces issues of population loss and aging infrastructure. And how innovative its municipal government can be with its limited resources will greatly determine how Penn Hills will move forward. The neighborhood of Lincoln Park’s place in Penn Hills is even more precarious. Most recently, for example, the residents of Lincoln Park defeated a redistricting measure that would have taken their neighborhood out of Penn Hills and moved it into a poorer, adjacent district. Despite these challenges, what remains special about Penn Hills is its vibrant community, and residents who have a strong sense of civic pride.
- Into the Wild: Santiago Street - 
When I parked my car at the end of Santiago Street in Lincoln Park, I half expected to find a cul-de-sac devoid of houses. That’s because days earlier, during a conversation with Chris Blackwell, principal planner from the Penn Hills Department of Planning and Economic Development, he told me how his department had demolished nearly all the street’s blighted properties in recent years. “There’s almost nothing left down there,” he said. “Almost” was the key word.
Once a quiet suburban cul-de-sac that boasted upwards of 20 or more homes, the housing stock on Santiago has dwindled to almost nothing in the last two decades. Today only four houses remain on the street. Two are vacant, with broken windows and kicked-in garage doors, weeds sprouting from gutters and trash bags lying heaped in the driveways. Two are not.
In one of the homes that appeared to be inhabited, I heard a TV set blaring and could see the dull glow of its screen. There were no signs of people, however. Allegheny County assessment records show that a man named Martin Lloyd owns the home. I would have walked the steep staircase leading to the front door, knocked and introduced myself explaining that I was a journalist working on a story, but for whatever reason, my fear won out. Maybe it was my knowledge of Lincoln Park’s sordid history that gave me pause, or knowing that people who live in isolated areas sometimes do so for a reason. However unfounded my fear may have been, I listened to instinct. Instead I walked the empty street taking photographs, waiting to see some signs of life. When I returned to my car, I opened my notepad and jotted down house numbers.
The legacy of Santiago Street and its near-death is most likely tied to foreclosures or owner abandonment that took place sometime back in the 1990s, Blackwell said. He assured me it had nothing to do with the recent string of mortgage foreclosures that have plagued the Pennsylvania suburb in the wake of the Great Recession. Regardless of how it came to be, the municipality of Penn Hills — where Santiago Street is located — now owns much of the vacant property.
Santiago Street is located off Mount Carmel Road and dead-ended on one side by a massive property housing a demolition and excavation company. That essentially makes Santiago Street, and its surrounding streets and alleyways, their own micro-province. That day the tall weeds lining the hillside at the end of Santiago swayed like prairie grass, moved by the warm August breeze. Wild rabbits darted back and forth between overgrown hedges. In the near distance, beyond a sign that discouraged dumping trash or parking your car, I heard two dogs howl, followed by a man’s voice that occasionally yelled to quiet them. But still I saw no one.
* * *
Matthew Newton is a writer, journalist and editor from Western Pennsylvania. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Esquire, Forbes and Guernica, among other publications. He’s currently at work on No Place For Disgrace, a series of nonfiction stories about the life and death of the suburban dream. You can find him on his website blog.matthewnewton.us, or at the journal he founded, Annals of Americus.
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PENN HILLS, PENNSYLVANIA 

Penn Hills, Pennsylvania is a community in transition. As a first-ring suburb, it currently faces issues of population loss and aging infrastructure. And how innovative its municipal government can be with its limited resources will greatly determine how Penn Hills will move forward. The neighborhood of Lincoln Park’s place in Penn Hills is even more precarious. Most recently, for example, the residents of Lincoln Park defeated a redistricting measure that would have taken their neighborhood out of Penn Hills and moved it into a poorer, adjacent district. Despite these challenges, what remains special about Penn Hills is its vibrant community, and residents who have a strong sense of civic pride.

- Into the Wild: Santiago Street - 

When I parked my car at the end of Santiago Street in Lincoln Park, I half expected to find a cul-de-sac devoid of houses. That’s because days earlier, during a conversation with Chris Blackwell, principal planner from the Penn Hills Department of Planning and Economic Development, he told me how his department had demolished nearly all the street’s blighted properties in recent years. “There’s almost nothing left down there,” he said. “Almost” was the key word.

Once a quiet suburban cul-de-sac that boasted upwards of 20 or more homes, the housing stock on Santiago has dwindled to almost nothing in the last two decades. Today only four houses remain on the street. Two are vacant, with broken windows and kicked-in garage doors, weeds sprouting from gutters and trash bags lying heaped in the driveways. Two are not.

In one of the homes that appeared to be inhabited, I heard a TV set blaring and could see the dull glow of its screen. There were no signs of people, however. Allegheny County assessment records show that a man named Martin Lloyd owns the home. I would have walked the steep staircase leading to the front door, knocked and introduced myself explaining that I was a journalist working on a story, but for whatever reason, my fear won out. Maybe it was my knowledge of Lincoln Park’s sordid history that gave me pause, or knowing that people who live in isolated areas sometimes do so for a reason. However unfounded my fear may have been, I listened to instinct. Instead I walked the empty street taking photographs, waiting to see some signs of life. When I returned to my car, I opened my notepad and jotted down house numbers.

The legacy of Santiago Street and its near-death is most likely tied to foreclosures or owner abandonment that took place sometime back in the 1990s, Blackwell said. He assured me it had nothing to do with the recent string of mortgage foreclosures that have plagued the Pennsylvania suburb in the wake of the Great Recession. Regardless of how it came to be, the municipality of Penn Hills — where Santiago Street is located — now owns much of the vacant property.

Santiago Street is located off Mount Carmel Road and dead-ended on one side by a massive property housing a demolition and excavation company. That essentially makes Santiago Street, and its surrounding streets and alleyways, their own micro-province. That day the tall weeds lining the hillside at the end of Santiago swayed like prairie grass, moved by the warm August breeze. Wild rabbits darted back and forth between overgrown hedges. In the near distance, beyond a sign that discouraged dumping trash or parking your car, I heard two dogs howl, followed by a man’s voice that occasionally yelled to quiet them. But still I saw no one.

* * *

Matthew Newton is a writer, journalist and editor from Western Pennsylvania. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Esquire, Forbes and Guernica, among other publications. He’s currently at work on No Place For Disgrace, a series of nonfiction stories about the life and death of the suburban dream. You can find him on his website blog.matthewnewton.us, or at the journal he founded, Annals of Americus.

ROADSIDE AMERICA - SHARTLESVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

Laurence Gieringer founded Roadside America. The story goes that young Gieringer’s love of miniature models began around 1899, when he was five years old. From his bedroom window, the young Gieringer could see the lights of the Highland Hotel at the crest of nearby Neversink Mountain. From his distant vantage point the building looked like a toy he could snatch from the mountain and add to his toy collection. One day he set out to get that seemingly miniature building, not realizing how far away it really was. Soon he was hopelessly lost in the woods and was not found until the next morning.

Fortunately that experience did not dampen his love for miniatures. In his adult life Mr. Gieringer became a carpenter and painter. Over his sixty-year career Gieringer amassed quite a collection of tiny, detailed buildings and accessories that became one of the worlds most famous and amazing miniature villages.

Roadside America is a boyhood dream realized. The idea was born in June of 1903 and has, from day to day and almost without interruption, grown to be the largest and most beautiful indoor miniature village of its type. It is housed in a new, modern, comfortable air conditioned building, designed especially for the display, and covers over 8000 square feet of space. There is unusually large free parking lot, a fast developing zoo, and gift shop featuring the products of this celebrated Pennsylvania Dutch Country. Noted for its historic surroundings, this entire area is a natural beauty spot outdoors, and Roadside America continues these beauties with man-made creations of a half century of tireless and productive labor.

Newspapers and magazines the world over have given their unanimous verdict and now people from all over the nation come to see this fantastic, educational and appealing display, which has been called a museum both historical and religious. There is nothing like it in all the country and it is truly, in its new setting, well worth your visit.

- from Welcome to Roadside America, 1964 & the Roadside America website

Roadside America is still around and still owned and operated by the Geiringer family. Their OUR STORY page provides some more history and some neat videos featuring the miniature village in action. 

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Jordan Smith is the guide to ephemeral America for The American Guide. He currently works for the University of Notre Dame during the day and scans at night. He lives in South Bend, Indiana and you can find him on Flickr, his blog, or one of several Tumblr sites.





MUMMER’S DAY PARADE










Among traditional holiday observances is the mummers’ parade on New Year’s Day in Philadelphia. This pageant resembles in spirit and form the old English Christmas season festivities, when a Lord of Misrule was chosen, and elaborately costumed revelers danced and paraded. But its immediate ancestor is the old German tradition of ‘bell-snickeling.’ As early as 1800 scattered groups of mummers from South Philadelphia paraded the streets and rang bells to receive the award of cakes and candies if their identity was not guessed. The first formal parade was held on January 1, 1901, to celebrate the turn of the century; it was so enthusiastically received that it has since been held annually.






— Pennsylvania, A Guide to the Keystone State (WPA, 1940)
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Philadelphia-based photographer Stephen Dyer is our Guide to Pennsylvania. Follow his great photos of the Keystone State and other places on Tumblr at thebrokentooth.tumblr.com.
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MUMMER’S DAY PARADE










Among traditional holiday observances is the mummers’ parade on New Year’s Day in Philadelphia. This pageant resembles in spirit and form the old English Christmas season festivities, when a Lord of Misrule was chosen, and elaborately costumed revelers danced and paraded. But its immediate ancestor is the old German tradition of ‘bell-snickeling.’ As early as 1800 scattered groups of mummers from South Philadelphia paraded the streets and rang bells to receive the award of cakes and candies if their identity was not guessed. The first formal parade was held on January 1, 1901, to celebrate the turn of the century; it was so enthusiastically received that it has since been held annually.






— Pennsylvania, A Guide to the Keystone State (WPA, 1940)
* * *
Philadelphia-based photographer Stephen Dyer is our Guide to Pennsylvania. Follow his great photos of the Keystone State and other places on Tumblr at thebrokentooth.tumblr.com.
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MUMMER’S DAY PARADE










Among traditional holiday observances is the mummers’ parade on New Year’s Day in Philadelphia. This pageant resembles in spirit and form the old English Christmas season festivities, when a Lord of Misrule was chosen, and elaborately costumed revelers danced and paraded. But its immediate ancestor is the old German tradition of ‘bell-snickeling.’ As early as 1800 scattered groups of mummers from South Philadelphia paraded the streets and rang bells to receive the award of cakes and candies if their identity was not guessed. The first formal parade was held on January 1, 1901, to celebrate the turn of the century; it was so enthusiastically received that it has since been held annually.






— Pennsylvania, A Guide to the Keystone State (WPA, 1940)
* * *
Philadelphia-based photographer Stephen Dyer is our Guide to Pennsylvania. Follow his great photos of the Keystone State and other places on Tumblr at thebrokentooth.tumblr.com.
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MUMMER’S DAY PARADE

Among traditional holiday observances is the mummers’ parade on New Year’s Day in Philadelphia. This pageant resembles in spirit and form the old English Christmas season festivities, when a Lord of Misrule was chosen, and elaborately costumed revelers danced and paraded. But its immediate ancestor is the old German tradition of ‘bell-snickeling.’ As early as 1800 scattered groups of mummers from South Philadelphia paraded the streets and rang bells to receive the award of cakes and candies if their identity was not guessed. The first formal parade was held on January 1, 1901, to celebrate the turn of the century; it was so enthusiastically received that it has since been held annually.

Pennsylvania, A Guide to the Keystone State (WPA, 1940)

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Philadelphia-based photographer Stephen Dyer is our Guide to Pennsylvania. Follow his great photos of the Keystone State and other places on Tumblr at thebrokentooth.tumblr.com.


Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
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Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
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Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info
Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.
You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.
Zoom Info

Pennsylvania, A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940) insists:

To understand [Philadelphia] thoroughly, one must be a native or a long-time resident.

Jordan Baumgarten was born in Philadelphia and returned last year. As he tells us, he’s “trying to fall back in love with Philly again, with the things that make it horrible and wonderful.” He sends this dispatch for #AmericanGuideWeek.

You can find Jordan on Tumblr or see even more great images on his website.

#AmericanGuideWeek gets a view of Pennsylvania, courtesy of Philadelphia-based photographer, Stephen Dyer at thebrokentooth.
These photos of Stephen’s reminded us of a passage from Pennsylvania: A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940):

Today the mention of Pennsylvania probably calls up, first of all, a picture of an industrial commonwealth, with belching blast furnaces, labor problems, and all the spectacular features of an industrialized civilization. This is a one-sided impression.

Follow Stephen’s great photos of Pennsylvania and other places on Tumblr.
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#AmericanGuideWeek gets a view of Pennsylvania, courtesy of Philadelphia-based photographer, Stephen Dyer at thebrokentooth.
These photos of Stephen’s reminded us of a passage from Pennsylvania: A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940):

Today the mention of Pennsylvania probably calls up, first of all, a picture of an industrial commonwealth, with belching blast furnaces, labor problems, and all the spectacular features of an industrialized civilization. This is a one-sided impression.

Follow Stephen’s great photos of Pennsylvania and other places on Tumblr.
Zoom Info

#AmericanGuideWeek gets a view of Pennsylvania, courtesy of Philadelphia-based photographer, Stephen Dyer at thebrokentooth.

These photos of Stephen’s reminded us of a passage from Pennsylvania: A Guide To the Keystone State (WPA, 1940):

Today the mention of Pennsylvania probably calls up, first of all, a picture of an industrial commonwealth, with belching blast furnaces, labor problems, and all the spectacular features of an industrialized civilization. This is a one-sided impression.

Follow Stephen’s great photos of Pennsylvania and other places on Tumblr.

Visit 1930s Pennsylvania: where pre-revolutionary costumes still survive. 

Writer and illustrator Katherine Milhous (1894–1977) was born into a Quaker family active in the printing industry in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. During the Great Depression, Milhous made a series of travel posters for the Works Progress Administration depicting rural life in her homestate.

Source: National Archives