Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Fromthevisitors'centerIambledalongIndependenceMalltoFranklinSquare,whichwas
full of winos, many of whom had the comical idea that I might be prepared to give them
twenty five cents of my own money. According to my guidebook, Franklin Square had
“lots of interesting things” to see-a museum, a working book bindery, an archaeological
exhibitand“theonlypostofficeintheUnitedStateswhichdoesnotflytheAmericanflag”
(don't ask me why)-but my heart wasn't in it, especially with piteous and unwashed winos
tugging at my sleeves all the while, and I fled back to the real world of downtown Philad-
elphia.
Late in the afternoon, I found my way to the offices of the Philadelphia Inquirer, where an
oldfriendfromDesMoines,Lucia Herndon,waslifestyle editor.TheInquirerofficeswere
like news paper offices everywhere grubby, full of junk, littered with coffee cups in which
cigarette butts floated like dead fish in a polluted lake-and Lucia's desk, I was impressed
to note, was one of the messiest in the room. This may have accounted in part for her im-
pressive rise at the Inquirer. I only ever knew one journalist with a truly tidy desk, and he
was eventually arrested for molesting small boys. Make of that what you will-but just bear
it in mind the next time somebody with a tidy desk invites you camping.
We drove in my car out to the district of Mount Airy, where, conveniently for me-and for
her too, come to that-Lucia lived with another old friend of mine from Des Moines, her
husband, Hal. All day long I had been wondering, vaguely and intermittently, why Hal and
Lucia liked Philadelphia so much-they had moved there about a year before-but now I un-
derstood. The road to Mount Airy led through the most beautiful city park I had ever been
in. Called Fairmount Park and covering almost q,000 acres, it is the largest municipal park
in America and it is full of trees and flowering shrubs and bosky glades of infinite charm.
It stretches for miles along the banks of the Schuylkill River. We drove through a dreamy
twilight. Boats sculled along the water. It was perfection.
Mount Airy was out in the Germantown section of the city. It had a nice settled feeling
to it, as if people had lived there for generations-which is in fact the case in Philadelphia,
Lucia told me. The city was still full of the sort of neighborhoods where everybody knew
everybody else. Many people scarcely ever ventured more than a few hundred yards from
their homes. It was not uncommon to get lost and find that hardly anybody could reliably
direct you to a neighborhood three miles away. Philadelphia also had its own vocabulary-
downtown was called “center city,” sidewalks were called “pavements,” as in England-and
peculiarities of pronunciation.
In the evening I sat in Hal and Lucia's house, eating their food, drinking their wine, ad-
miring their children and their house and furniture and possessions, their easy wealth and
