CHAPTER TEN:
A Struggle for Growth and
Professionalism at the Washington Memorial (continued)
If the parish were to grow and attract more families
as members, the chapel would need more space, especially for the
expansion of its Sunday school program. Within a year of Smith's
institution as rector, he and other members of the vestry were wondering
whether it might not be best for all concerned to have the historical
society move its collections to other facilities, an idea that was once
again being discussed by officers of the historical society. At the end
of 1967, the society's minutes noted: "In the spirit of partnership we
suggest to the Chapel Vestry that a joint meeting be arranged with our
building committee so that the Vestry might be educated as to the
purposes of the Society as founded by Dr. Burk, as well as the present
goals of our Society." [35] Meetings were
held, but it could not be decided exactly where to erect a new museum
building, what kind of structure it would be, or how much money to allot
for it. In the meantime, the historical society relinquished to the
chapel the rooms in which its china collections had been displayed.
Both organizations aimed for a spirit of cooperation,
but it seemed that they were entering into a kind of competition over
which had the more important objectives. One vestry member expressed his
opinion in a letter to a historical society officer, saying, "The
housing and display of, say, a china collection is less crucial to the
proper exercise of the corporate purpose and commitment of the Valley
Forge Historical Society than the need for spiritual guidance to the
youth of Washington Memorial Chapel is to its function and being as a
church." [36]
The historical society tried to initiate a transfer
of real estate between the chapel and the state park that would have
given the society a desirable piece of property for a new museum.
However, Smith and the vestry declined to make the swap until the
historical society was firmly committed to erecting a building. Members
of the historical society did not believe they could begin to solicit
funds until they had secured their land, so by 1970 this plan had also
fallen by the wayside. [37]
A locked door came to symbolize a growing enmity
between the church and the historical society. In 1969, Smith locked the
door that led from the chapel directly into the vestibule of the museum,
where the society's gift shop was located. Smith did not like tourists
loudly tramping in from the museum, often leaving behind candy wrappers
and other litter. He had also discovered that some visitors mistakenly
assumed that the museum entrance fee also purchased admittance to the
church. If visitors came to the chapel by the front door, he reasoned,
they would approach the building with the reverence proper for a
functioning house of worship and also realize that admission was of
course free. [38] Society members viewed
the locked door as an inconvenience, particularly in bad weather, and
their minutes noted this "discourtesy to visitors." [39] The subject was discussed, but the door
remained locked.
After the land swap had been considered, the park
commission discussed the prospect of building a museum on state park
land and simply leasing it to the historical society. In 1972, the
historical society's president, Howard Gross, requested the vestry's
forbearance, informing them that Pennsylvania Bill 562 had been
introduced by a state senator and if passed would allocate $1 million
for such a building. [40]
The rector and the vestry had already asked that the
historical society move out of the Washington Memorial by that fall, and
Gross's letter did not move them. The vestry replied that they indeed
wanted to solve material problems but that the chapel absolutely needed
the space the museum areas would provide. Only if the room the
historical society used as its office and gift shop could be vacated
would the society be permitted to stay beyond the autumn of 1972. [41] New pressure was brought to bear after
the Upper Merion Township building inspector reported problems and code
violations in virtually every room of the historical society's temporary
quarters. [42]
While plans for a new museum building for the
historical society on state park land languished, some individuals long
associated with the park began to question the advisability of this
idea. Margaret Roshong, a former park employee, wrote an open letter to
the park commissioners reminding them that in 1929 Dr. Burk had been the
park commission's bitter enemy. She charged that in the past the society
had irresponsibly "lost" certain donated artifacts, and observed that
admission to its museum required a fee, which had long been against park
policy. [43] In a second letter to Park
Commissioner Charles E. Mather she declared, "After 77-years of
hard-and-fast rules covering non-commercialization of our sacred
shrine, it is fantastic to believe that this administration would so far
reverse the policy as to not only permit the practice but to tax we
citizens to erect a $1,000,000 building for a competitive group to
have the sole right to the privilege. AS BUSINESS PEOPLE, would you
provide funds and land to promote the welfare of a business competitor?"
[44] By 1973, the park commissioners were
considering their own plans for a new museum at Valley Forge and had
begun to share Roshong's view that the historical society museum on
state land would be a kind of competitor. [45]
The park commission considered adopting the
historical society as an associate group, an arrangement whereby the
society would retain its identity and ownership of its collections. The
professional staff at the park commission, however, would determine how
the society's artifacts would be displayed in a new museum, developing a
story line for their interpretation, and special programs to attract
visitors. [46] These plans fell through
just before the nation's bicentennial, when the state park's own future
as an organization became uncertain.
The bicentennial year brought the historical society
a new president, Meade Jones, wife of its former president L. Davis
Jones, who had resigned for health reasons. Mrs. Jones, originally from
Virginia, was enthusiastic, dedicated, deeply interested in history, and
an excellent organizer who had been on the board of the historical
society since 1967. As president, Meade Jones would set the tone for the
society's relationship with the new national park created at Valley
Forge in 1976, The national park's new superintendent did not want the
society's small museum to compete with displays planned for their own
new reception center, nor did he want the society to build elsewhere in
the park the new museum they had long been discussing. He suggested that
the society consider a long-term loan of key encampment and
Revolutionary artifacts to the park. Meade Jones considered this
proposal and summed up the society's plight as she saw it: The Valley
Forge Historical Society was now being pressured to vacate current
quarters by the chapel and give up the best of its collections to the
park. Would it be left with no space in the park and no source of
income? Would the organization even continue to exist? [47]
Friction between the chapel and the historical
society came to a head in 1979. Under Smith's guidance, the parish
continued to grow despite the decline of both Valley Forge and Port
Kennedy as communities and the need to attract members from a wider
area. In 1978, Smith reiterated his problems to the historical society,
pressing hard to gain space for classrooms and meetings. [48] In the spring of 1979, the historical
society was presented with a report listing code and safety violations
in their building. Its members also learned that the oil stored in tanks
in their boiler room had been drained, reportedly for reasons of safety,
and they were ordered by the chapel to vacate the Washington Memorial by
the end of that September 1979. [49]
Following Jones's leadership, and believing they were
fighting for the very existence of their organization, the directors of
the historical society turned to the law for protection, petitioning the
Orphans Court of Montgomery County for a judgment protecting the
organization's interests and removing the padlock the chapel had placed
on the museum's door. [50] By the fall,
the court had issued an injunction restraining the chapel from
restricting the historical society's activities. Historical society
directors were able to reopen the gift shop, and the chapel was ordered
to refill the society's tanks with heating oil. [51]
An unlikely battle began, and reporters commented on
the "unpleasantries." One writer noted, "It is a term used by both the
Rev. Sheldon Smith, the chapel's soft-spoken rector, and Meade Jones,
the genteel Virginia-born woman who heads the historical society." [52] All participants appealed for support
Jones explained the situation to her sisters in the DAR, [53] and Frank Law, the chapel's carillonneur
wrote to "Friends of the Washington Memorial Chapel" protesting that
chapel officials were being cast as villains even though they had
offered land and $75, 000 toward a new building. [54] Smith avoided the subject, but invited
the chapel's legal counsel to speak to parishioners on the continuing
litigation. [55]
The key legal issue boiled down to determining
exactly what Dr. Burk's vision and intent had been. Had he created a
single, indivisible entity called the Washington Memorial, making the
historical society not a tenant that could be evicted but rather the
beneficiary of a trust? As Meade Jones expressed the concept to the
Episcopal bishop in Philadelphia, "Valley Forge is a symbol of unity
nationally and internationally, and the wholeness of Dr. Burk's concept
for the Washington Memorial at Valley Forge, the interpretation of
religious and secular life, is the epitome of the lesson lived and
remembered at Valley Forge." [56] Her own
painstaking research in the society's records showed her that money had
been raised all over the nation for building the Washington Memorial,
with contributions coming from many people, such as members of the DAR,
who would not have made donations to a simple parish church. [57] As evidence for this position, the
society's lawyers observed that Burk had used the same stationery for
both chapel and historical society business, and that on behalf of the
society he had solicited funds for some of the bays of the chapel's
cloister. [58] Burk's ambitious plans had
been cut off only by his death.
Litigation dragged on for years. Three times the
chapel petitioned the court to dissolve the injunction restraining the
chapel from evicting the historical society. Enormous expenses were
incurred on both sides before the historical society's position was
finally upheld by a 1983 ruling that made the injunction permanent,
recognizing that the trust Burk formed had given the society a right to
stay at the Washington Memorial in perpetuity.
Peace negotiations began around the end of 1984 after
a federal court dismissed the chapel's final appeal. Then tentative
discussions began between representatives of the chapel and the
historical society on how the two organizations could work effectively
together to realize the vision of the founder. [59] The period of bitterness had taken its
toll and is now looked on with regret by almost all who are active in
these organizations. According to Smith, the most lamentable result was
that the litigation clouded many friendships between people who had
formerly shared interests and worked well together. [60]
Once Meade Jones was relatively certain that the
historical society would not be evicted, she stepped up a campaign to
professionalize the organization. She sought federal grant money and
initiated a corporate membership program and a major fundraising effort.
In 1985, the society formally adopted a collections policy, defining the
collection as primarily Washingtoniana encampment-related objects,
objects revealing American attitudes toward the Valley Forge experience,
and objects attesting to eighteenth-century military life and colonial
material culture. [61] Objects that did
not conform to the new collections policy could be traded or sold. The
society also changed the name of its journal from Picket Post to
the Valley Forge Journal, gave it a more professional look, and
began seeking material from academic scholars. It was around this time
that a bequest of John Dobson brought the society ten more Washington
camp cups, giving them an even dozen of these superb artifacts, which
remain among the highlights of the collection. [62]
One of Meade Jones's key accomplishments as president
was presiding over the installation of a new permanent exhibit at the
society's museum called "Valley Forge, the Reality and the Symbol."
Funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities and the J. Howard
Pew Freedom Trust made the exhibit's installation possible. [63] The theme came from recommendations of a
colloquium panel of historians and museum experts, and the project was
directed by Michael Kammen of Cornell University and William T. Alderson
of the University of Delaware. [64] By
that time, Valley Forge National Historical Park itself was effectively
interpreting the story of the encampment, so the display at the museum
was intended to complement rather than compete with the park's
interpretation. Objects on display not only suggested life in the camp
but also showed how the Valley Forge story had developed as a symbol for
nineteenth- and twentieth-century Americans, emerging together with a
national adulation of George Washington. The exhibit, Kammen explained,
showed that Valley Forge had a dual significance: the winter of
1777-1778 had not only shaped the Colonial army but also had served ever
since as a lesson about sacrifice and commitment. [65] The exhibit engaged the eye and also the
mind, causing visitors to reevaluate some cherished perceptions that
many had held since childhood, such as whether Washington had really
been observed at Valley Forge kneeling in prayer in the snow.
One of Dr. Burk's key treasures was removed from
display at the Washington Memorial when the historical society loaned
Washington's marquee to the park, where it could be displayed in a more
controlled environment. Before the tent was installed at the park's new
Visitor Center, professional textile conservators cleaned and examined
itand made new discoveries, such as the long hidden guild or
maker's stamp. Before the tent was reassembled, its weathered fabric was
backed with stronger material. [66] The
tent remains the centerpiece of exhibits at the park's Visitor Center,
where people can view it as it probably looked when Washington used it,
furnished with a reproduction camp bed, tables, chest, stools, and other
military paraphernalia.
Enough has changed at the Washington Memorial to make
one wonder whether Burk would recognize the place if he came back today.
But the entity he created to interpret the Valley Forge story has
survived. The Washington Memorial is not just a parish church strangely
surrounded by a national park; the complex remains a key place to go for
interpretation during a Valley Forge visit. On another level, it has
itself become an artifact and evidence of the spirit of the early
twentieth century and of the way in which the Valley Forge story was
being celebrated at that time.
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