Pennsylvania in Public Memory presented a fascinating tour through Pennsylvania’s industrial heritage sites and the burgeoning industry which surrounds these places. It also focused on some of the other tourist themes across the state, including agricultural tourism to Lancaster County, but industry was its chief focus. Many of these sites were familiar to me (I grew up in a road trip family, and so know the little roadside museum quite well), so I really enjoyed this read.
There’s a lot wrapped up in many of these industrial heritage sites- I found in particular quite striking the number of volunteers who had some sort of personal or familial connection to the site, especially in the cases of places which have now deindustrialized, like steel mills or coal mines. Even Carolyn Kitch, the author of this book, has a personal connection to these areas.
The legacy of deindustrialization leaves a complex and often fraught story behind, one which these sites take up in often awkward ways. Despite the cases in which sites are kitschy or strange or unscholarly, I am reminded of our relentless pursuit of community collaboration in the field of public history; so many of these heritage sites are community led and run, and feature personal memories of this industrial history. Why then, do scholars consider them so separate from other kinds of more academic museums? I certainly don’t have an answer to this question, but I think it’s worth pondering.
I am also thinking about the global trend of turning formerly industrialized sites into some sort of tourist or entertainment destination. America’s working class today is by and large not people who work in manufacturing- it’s service professionals. What does it say, then, when these sites of working class struggle and labor history are transformed into sites where the next generation of working class people are now laboring? The relentless marketing of these towns where now no industry exists as sites for entertainment, education, or recreation speaks to the larger shift in America’s economy from industry to service.
Perhaps it’s simply the Philadelphian in me, but I would’ve liked to see more attention paid to Philadelphia in public memory (although perhaps that topic is simply too big to cover in a chapter, so Kitch can tackle that in another book).
So many of these sites began in the 1970s, during Pennsylvania’s (and America’s) renewed interest in history and heritage in the lead-up to the bicentennial in 1976. I wonder, then, in light of the upcoming 250th, what will be created in its wake? According to the national commission, perhaps nothing. The entire situation feels like a bit of disaster. Now, a 250th certainly feels less significant than a centennial celebration. But looking back on both the 1876 and 1976 celebrations (even the disappointing 1976 bicentennial) shows how world’s fairs and expositions have the potential to define how a country sees itself, its past, and its future. Will there be a new explosion of heritage sites and interest in preserving Pennsylvania’s industrial past? Or will the celebration be dwarfed by the upcoming World Cup? It remains to be seen.