|
 July 13, 1961 "Famed 2124" image from News-Herald |  Iron Horse Ramble pin |
The Reading Railroad ran 51 passenger excursions between 1959 and 1964. The excursions, named Iron Horse Rambles, would start at various locations and travel over the tracks of the Reading System in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware. Powered by T-1 class steam locomotives numbered 2100, 2102, and 2124, the rambles were fan favorites to ride and see.
The Reading Railroad ran 51 passenger excursions between 1959 and 1964. The excursions, named Iron Horse Rambles, would start at various locations and travel over the tracks of the Reading System in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware. Powered by T-1 class steam locomotives numbered 2100, 2102, and 2124, the rambles were fan favorites to ride and see.
Donna Frederick Conville
Donna Frederick Conville rode a few of the excursions as a young girl. Her mother would pack a picnic lunch, and the entire family would ride to places like Hershey, Gettysburg, and Shamokin. Donna had a hat, goggles, and a bandanna that she wore to help keep cinders out of her eyes when sticking her head out of the coach windows to view the locomotive.
Donna Frederick Conville rode a few of the excursions as a young girl. Her mother would pack a picnic lunch, and the entire family would ride to places like Hershey, Gettysburg, and Shamokin. Donna had a hat, goggles, and a bandanna that she wore to help keep cinders out of her eyes when sticking her head out of the coach windows to view the locomotive.
| Six of the rambles beginning in 1960 traveled through Perkasie on the Bethlehem Branch. There was always great excitement in town on the days the ramble would pass through, as people gathered along the tracks to get a glimpse of the train. Dale Haring remembers his father taking him to the tracks near their Race Street home to see and photograph the trains. |  Reading Ramble, Perkasie, PA at Sine Coal yard: Haring Collection |
The excursions ended in October 1964 with a trip to West Milton, Pennsylvania.
Former Reading 2102 on Peacock's Lock Viaduct 2022- Rick Doll photograph
Interestingly, Reading Locomotive 2102 has survived and is used today for excursions over some of the former Reading Railroad that it traveled on over 50 years ago.
Listing of Reading Iron Horse Rambles that went through Perkasie
September 17, 1960: Wayne Junction to Schwenksville on the Perkiomen Branch for a Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2124.
June 11, 1961: Port Reading, New Jersey to Zionsville on the Perkiomen Branch-Engine 2124.
July 16, 1961: Jenkintown to Hershey and Echo Caves in Hummelstown-Engine 2124.
September 16, 1961: Wayne Junction to Schwenksville on the Perkiomen Branch for Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2124.
September 15, 1962: Wayne Junction to Schwenksville on the Perkiomen Branch for a Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2100.
Sept. 21, 1963: Bound Brook, New Jersey to Macungie for a Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2102. This trip left Macungie and returned to Jenkintown and Bound Brook over the Bethlehem Branch.
June 11, 1961: Port Reading, New Jersey to Zionsville on the Perkiomen Branch-Engine 2124.
July 16, 1961: Jenkintown to Hershey and Echo Caves in Hummelstown-Engine 2124.
September 16, 1961: Wayne Junction to Schwenksville on the Perkiomen Branch for Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2124.
September 15, 1962: Wayne Junction to Schwenksville on the Perkiomen Branch for a Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2100.
Sept. 21, 1963: Bound Brook, New Jersey to Macungie for a Pennsylvania Dutch Supper-Engine 2102. This trip left Macungie and returned to Jenkintown and Bound Brook over the Bethlehem Branch.
Doll
0 Comments
Working at Freed’s Glass
1958 J M Freed Contribution Letterhead- Perkasie Historical Society Archives
J. Melvin Freed started manufacturing glass microscope slides at his parents’ home in 1920. The business expanded over the years to include eleven buildings located at 306 North Fifth Street. Besides microscope slides, the factory-made microscope cover glass, silver coated switch plates and even installed auto glass.
 1979 News Herald J. Melvin Freed Advertisement |  J, Melvin Freed Inc, Microscope Slide box image from the Perkasie Historical Society Collection |
J. Melvin Freed employed over 100 people by the 1960’s. The late Barry Heckensweiler worked there for a few years during the early 1960’s. His job entailed moving trays of cut microscope slides from the production building across the driveway to the building where they would be washed and packaged.
Barry Heckensweiler image from Perkasie Borough Police Facebook posting 2024 Barry remembered Freed’s as being a good place to work. When President Kennedy was assassinated in 1963, all employees were sent home with pay to go to church. When Barry and Lesley were married his hourly pay was increased by ten cents.
Employees had access to a recreation building located in a house on the glasswork’s property. This was an area to relax during breaks and lunch. There was even a pool table available for employees.
J. Melvin Freed Inc. was sold in 1988 and all production ended. Most of the buildings remain part of the Kingdom Patrons Glassworks Campus. Barry Heckenswiler went on to become a Perkasie Borough Policeman for over 30 years.
Doll
Secrets Kept: Seidel Dairy
News-Herald June 20, 1979
Young girls pose at Seidel's house. Notice milk depot Sign in background. Image: Sterner/Parker Collection Henry and Florence Seidel operated a milk bottling business from the basement of 20 North Ninth Street. The business was in operation from 1907 until 1913. The Seidel’s two children, Ralph and Grace, helped with the business. Ralph would take a horse drawn wagon to local farms to pick up cans of milk. Grace would help with the bottling and capping process. Grace would also tend to the store where milk and cottage cheese were sold. The small store was also located in the basement and had an outside entrance on the Ninth Street side of the house.
2026 View of 20 North Ninth Street home. Perkasie Historical Society image The Treffinger family purchased the house in 1953. Jerry Treffinger remembers the basement entrance being long gone. There was still a door along the basement wall that Jerry’s Father closed in. Also in the basement were remnants of the cooler needed to keep the milk cold.
The June 20, 1979, Perkasie News Herald had the following article, “Secrets Kept” written by Grace Seidel Effig.
“I would like to share with you an experience my brother, Ralph and I had when I was 10, and he was 14 years old.
Our parents were in the milk business in Perkasie, and it was a family affair. We all had our certain work each 7 days a week.
When the business was purchased, I was only 4 years old, and dad taught me this bookkeeping method. Some customers paid their bill by the week, others daily by putting money in an empty milk bottle. In these days, milk costs 3 cents per pint and 6 cents per quart.
My work consisted of bottling and capping all the milk. The milk tank held 100 qt, and my system took only 10 minutes to do that amount. My dad only lifted the empty and full milk cases on and off the machinery. When I became of school age, I didn't have much time to play but was learning how to work with him and it never hurt me.
My brother Ralph's work was going out to a farm everyday day to pick up four big cans of milk with the horse and milk wagon.
I’d always loved candy, especially peanut butter kisses, so Ralph knew just how to entice me. One day he said, “come go with me today to pick up the milk at the farm. I have 2 pounds of your favorite candy hidden in the milk wagon for you.” I told him I couldn't go, I didn't have the bottle caps counted or the bottles ready. Also, I had to wait on the customers that came for butter and cottage cheese (we had a small store in our cellar). Ralph said, “don't worry about that. I'll fix it for you and put a sign on a door that were closed up until 5:30 PM.” So, he called up the cellars steps to mom that he was going for the milk. She thought I was in the store, taking care of the business and doing my work. She had never come down to check on me before, so I thought I was safe.
I ate peanut butter kisses all the way to the farm. We talked to the farmer; he always wanted one of my long curls and had one picked out. We got the four cans of milk and started a long drive home. The lids were never put on tight on the cans but turned at a slight angle to help the milk cool before being pasteurized and bottled.
A short distance from the farm Ralph handed the reins to me and said, “now you learn to drive this wild horse, and I'll show you how fast he can run.” Ralph took a short stick and poked Kernel on top of his tail and said, “you're going to have a time holding him on the road.” That horse took off as though lightning hit him and he started running away with us but we both laughed.
But Kernel kept picking up speed and got over the side of the road. The back doors of the wagon flew open; one can of milk spilled and fell out. I couldn't control that horse and Ralph got in the back of the wagon trying to hold on to the other 3 cans. I got bold and stepped over the board and climbed on Kernel’s back. A train came out of the tunnel several blocks away blowing its whistle for a road crossing. That whistle, me on top of the horse and Ralph hollering me to get off the horse was the last straw for Kernel. He ran into a deep ditch, just as we got to the edge of our town.
One wheel came off the wagon; Ralph and the other 3 cans of milk fell out into the street and down into the ditch. Kernel really picked up speed then, but he still had me to put up with on his back and was snorting and frothing at the mouth. I stayed on him for a couple of blocks, then I got worried about Ralph and turned around to see where he was and slipped part of the way off Kernel. I held a deep death grip on those reins.
The road had recently been stoned and graveled. (No macadam in 1913) and Kernel dragged me through all this for four blocks. Men going home from work knew me and were running after me and yelling, “Grace, let go, let go!) I finally did let go at the front of the Lutheran Church and a man picked me up in his arms and ran to our family doctor as I screamed and cried all the way.
I was a mess in tattered clothes and tore new long black cotton stockings. While the doctor took care of my many wounds, I kept constantly crying. I saw my left arm bleeding down my arm (sic) as if a faucet was turned on. I promptly fainted. When I revived the doctor had me all fixed up, but I began crying again. The man that carried me there wanted to know if I was crying because of being in pain. I said no, it was because I was worried about my brother and all the milk that went down the ditch- How are our customers going to get served tomorrow?
When I got home, Ralph was there and while our parents were busy talking, he put his finger to his lips, and he shook his head sideways for a-no-no to let me know not to tell what happened. We were very close as brother and sister, so my safest bet then was to cry again. The tears were real for I couldn't sit down from being so bruised and was still in shock and very worried.
Dad said to my mother, “Don't lay one finger on Grace you'll answer to me.” Mom said, “If she's getting off so lightly, don't you dare hit Ralph.” I did not feel elated, only a little safer. Our parents did not ask us that or the next day how the accident occurred. This gave Ralph, and I an opportunity to fix up a story.
Ralph merely told dad that the train whistle scared Kernel. Dad let it at that and never questioned us again. Especially me because there was an apple of his eye and Ralph was Mom's pet. That night my dad's competitor offered him half of his milk for their next day's delivery and brought it to us and help bottle and cap it. He and dad did all the work that night.
At the time of the accident Kernel ran down into the next town several miles away and some men caught him and took him back to the livery stable. My dad wanted to have Kernel shot, but I started crying again saying it wasn't his fault, he was only scared. I told my dad to shoot me instead. That little remark got him to thinking. He said he was putting the milk business up for sale before anything else happened to the children. All were happy except me; I liked doing the work mostly because Dad always took me everywhere with him.
Dad and I had secrets just between the two of us. One was not very secretive; on Saturday mornings, he took me with him to collect the milk bills. When we were through, he stopped at one of the local hotel bar rooms for a couple of beers. He sat me up on the bar and every time a round of drinks were bought, I got a bar of 5 cent candy, usually ending up with four bars of candy. I was secretive, because dad told me to hide my candy bars in the bottom of the milk cap barrel, so they'd last me most of the week.
He was not so fortunate because old horse Frank was smart and always dad got into trouble. Frank would get tired of waiting for us and went home alone. As soon as my mom saw Frank walking slowly up the street, she knew where we were. Then dad always caught the dickens from her. She always said the same thing to Dad, “you have your ‘snoot full’ again.” I didn't know then what that meant, but I always said to mom,” He does not!”
Dad asked me never to reveal (while he was alive) another secret we had between us since we did all the bookkeeping. We serve milk to three very large families, and they paid us as much as they could afford during the year. Then when Christmas came Dad gave them a receipt mark “paid in full” as a gift. He sure had a heart as big as all outdoors.
The milk business was sold soon after that accident. Then dad went into partnership with another man and bought someone's ice cream business. I didn't have to work at that because of the big machinery.
I felt let down when the milk business was sold because the horses were included in the sale. I missed those horses and went to see them almost every day to feed them sugar lumps and apples. The new owner used to let me ride old Frank and I rode him bare back all over town.
Eighteen years later, in 1931, the true story of the accident was revealed to Mom and Dad. I was visiting them on vacation from Jacksonville, Florida. I had baked mincemeat pies for them and Ralph and his wife. The five of us were sitting around the kitchen table snacking on pie and drinking coffee. Ralph asked me if I thought I'd ever get fat like I used to wish for when I was a little girl. I had always yearned to wear a corset, like mom and also wear a “rat hairpiece”, in my hair. I was always skinny, no matter what I ate or how often. In exchange for my mince meat pies, Ralph said he had something to give me. He handed me a pound bag of peanut butter kisses and said they were hard to buy. I asked if he was trying to entice me into something like he did when we were kids and he just roared with laughter.
While I was eating my candy, dad began talking and said, “While we're on the subject of days gone by, I wonder if I ever got the real truth about that accident with our horse Kernel.” Ralph and I exchanged glances. I told our parents that I'd wanted to tell them many times over the years but the time just never seemed right. I looked at Ralph and said, “I'm going to tell them now that we're adults and don't have to worry about getting a good licking at our age.”
After the story was told, Dad sat there very quiet and big tears rolled down his cheeks. That just melted me and I jumped up and kissed his tears away just as he did to me as a child. He'd always tried his best to teach me things I thought were hard to learn. He always said, never gossip and talk about anyone unless it's something nice. I learned as much from him as I did in school.
We lost Dad two years later. He wasn't feeling good and a friend took him to the doctor. The doctor gave him medication and also some pills that dad put in his pocket. As his friend drove him home, Dad gave a soft sigh, slumped over and died. It was his first and only heart attack and it happened at the front of the Lutheran church where I'd had let go of the reins on Kernel, 20 years earlier. I lost my best friend and pal-Dad was my everything.
Our parents were in the milk business in Perkasie, and it was a family affair. We all had our certain work each 7 days a week.
When the business was purchased, I was only 4 years old, and dad taught me this bookkeeping method. Some customers paid their bill by the week, others daily by putting money in an empty milk bottle. In these days, milk costs 3 cents per pint and 6 cents per quart.
My work consisted of bottling and capping all the milk. The milk tank held 100 qt, and my system took only 10 minutes to do that amount. My dad only lifted the empty and full milk cases on and off the machinery. When I became of school age, I didn't have much time to play but was learning how to work with him and it never hurt me.
My brother Ralph's work was going out to a farm everyday day to pick up four big cans of milk with the horse and milk wagon.
I’d always loved candy, especially peanut butter kisses, so Ralph knew just how to entice me. One day he said, “come go with me today to pick up the milk at the farm. I have 2 pounds of your favorite candy hidden in the milk wagon for you.” I told him I couldn't go, I didn't have the bottle caps counted or the bottles ready. Also, I had to wait on the customers that came for butter and cottage cheese (we had a small store in our cellar). Ralph said, “don't worry about that. I'll fix it for you and put a sign on a door that were closed up until 5:30 PM.” So, he called up the cellars steps to mom that he was going for the milk. She thought I was in the store, taking care of the business and doing my work. She had never come down to check on me before, so I thought I was safe.
I ate peanut butter kisses all the way to the farm. We talked to the farmer; he always wanted one of my long curls and had one picked out. We got the four cans of milk and started a long drive home. The lids were never put on tight on the cans but turned at a slight angle to help the milk cool before being pasteurized and bottled.
A short distance from the farm Ralph handed the reins to me and said, “now you learn to drive this wild horse, and I'll show you how fast he can run.” Ralph took a short stick and poked Kernel on top of his tail and said, “you're going to have a time holding him on the road.” That horse took off as though lightning hit him and he started running away with us but we both laughed.
But Kernel kept picking up speed and got over the side of the road. The back doors of the wagon flew open; one can of milk spilled and fell out. I couldn't control that horse and Ralph got in the back of the wagon trying to hold on to the other 3 cans. I got bold and stepped over the board and climbed on Kernel’s back. A train came out of the tunnel several blocks away blowing its whistle for a road crossing. That whistle, me on top of the horse and Ralph hollering me to get off the horse was the last straw for Kernel. He ran into a deep ditch, just as we got to the edge of our town.
One wheel came off the wagon; Ralph and the other 3 cans of milk fell out into the street and down into the ditch. Kernel really picked up speed then, but he still had me to put up with on his back and was snorting and frothing at the mouth. I stayed on him for a couple of blocks, then I got worried about Ralph and turned around to see where he was and slipped part of the way off Kernel. I held a deep death grip on those reins.
The road had recently been stoned and graveled. (No macadam in 1913) and Kernel dragged me through all this for four blocks. Men going home from work knew me and were running after me and yelling, “Grace, let go, let go!) I finally did let go at the front of the Lutheran Church and a man picked me up in his arms and ran to our family doctor as I screamed and cried all the way.
I was a mess in tattered clothes and tore new long black cotton stockings. While the doctor took care of my many wounds, I kept constantly crying. I saw my left arm bleeding down my arm (sic) as if a faucet was turned on. I promptly fainted. When I revived the doctor had me all fixed up, but I began crying again. The man that carried me there wanted to know if I was crying because of being in pain. I said no, it was because I was worried about my brother and all the milk that went down the ditch- How are our customers going to get served tomorrow?
When I got home, Ralph was there and while our parents were busy talking, he put his finger to his lips, and he shook his head sideways for a-no-no to let me know not to tell what happened. We were very close as brother and sister, so my safest bet then was to cry again. The tears were real for I couldn't sit down from being so bruised and was still in shock and very worried.
Dad said to my mother, “Don't lay one finger on Grace you'll answer to me.” Mom said, “If she's getting off so lightly, don't you dare hit Ralph.” I did not feel elated, only a little safer. Our parents did not ask us that or the next day how the accident occurred. This gave Ralph, and I an opportunity to fix up a story.
Ralph merely told dad that the train whistle scared Kernel. Dad let it at that and never questioned us again. Especially me because there was an apple of his eye and Ralph was Mom's pet. That night my dad's competitor offered him half of his milk for their next day's delivery and brought it to us and help bottle and cap it. He and dad did all the work that night.
At the time of the accident Kernel ran down into the next town several miles away and some men caught him and took him back to the livery stable. My dad wanted to have Kernel shot, but I started crying again saying it wasn't his fault, he was only scared. I told my dad to shoot me instead. That little remark got him to thinking. He said he was putting the milk business up for sale before anything else happened to the children. All were happy except me; I liked doing the work mostly because Dad always took me everywhere with him.
Dad and I had secrets just between the two of us. One was not very secretive; on Saturday mornings, he took me with him to collect the milk bills. When we were through, he stopped at one of the local hotel bar rooms for a couple of beers. He sat me up on the bar and every time a round of drinks were bought, I got a bar of 5 cent candy, usually ending up with four bars of candy. I was secretive, because dad told me to hide my candy bars in the bottom of the milk cap barrel, so they'd last me most of the week.
He was not so fortunate because old horse Frank was smart and always dad got into trouble. Frank would get tired of waiting for us and went home alone. As soon as my mom saw Frank walking slowly up the street, she knew where we were. Then dad always caught the dickens from her. She always said the same thing to Dad, “you have your ‘snoot full’ again.” I didn't know then what that meant, but I always said to mom,” He does not!”
Dad asked me never to reveal (while he was alive) another secret we had between us since we did all the bookkeeping. We serve milk to three very large families, and they paid us as much as they could afford during the year. Then when Christmas came Dad gave them a receipt mark “paid in full” as a gift. He sure had a heart as big as all outdoors.
The milk business was sold soon after that accident. Then dad went into partnership with another man and bought someone's ice cream business. I didn't have to work at that because of the big machinery.
I felt let down when the milk business was sold because the horses were included in the sale. I missed those horses and went to see them almost every day to feed them sugar lumps and apples. The new owner used to let me ride old Frank and I rode him bare back all over town.
Eighteen years later, in 1931, the true story of the accident was revealed to Mom and Dad. I was visiting them on vacation from Jacksonville, Florida. I had baked mincemeat pies for them and Ralph and his wife. The five of us were sitting around the kitchen table snacking on pie and drinking coffee. Ralph asked me if I thought I'd ever get fat like I used to wish for when I was a little girl. I had always yearned to wear a corset, like mom and also wear a “rat hairpiece”, in my hair. I was always skinny, no matter what I ate or how often. In exchange for my mince meat pies, Ralph said he had something to give me. He handed me a pound bag of peanut butter kisses and said they were hard to buy. I asked if he was trying to entice me into something like he did when we were kids and he just roared with laughter.
While I was eating my candy, dad began talking and said, “While we're on the subject of days gone by, I wonder if I ever got the real truth about that accident with our horse Kernel.” Ralph and I exchanged glances. I told our parents that I'd wanted to tell them many times over the years but the time just never seemed right. I looked at Ralph and said, “I'm going to tell them now that we're adults and don't have to worry about getting a good licking at our age.”
After the story was told, Dad sat there very quiet and big tears rolled down his cheeks. That just melted me and I jumped up and kissed his tears away just as he did to me as a child. He'd always tried his best to teach me things I thought were hard to learn. He always said, never gossip and talk about anyone unless it's something nice. I learned as much from him as I did in school.
We lost Dad two years later. He wasn't feeling good and a friend took him to the doctor. The doctor gave him medication and also some pills that dad put in his pocket. As his friend drove him home, Dad gave a soft sigh, slumped over and died. It was his first and only heart attack and it happened at the front of the Lutheran church where I'd had let go of the reins on Kernel, 20 years earlier. I lost my best friend and pal-Dad was my everything.
Doll
Daub's Ice Dams
 Daub's Dam & Highland Gas Company building- image from Perkasie Historical Society: J. Snyder Collection |  Daub's Dam view from Spruce St- image from Perkasie Historical Society: J. Snyder Collection |
Jacob Daub owned a grocery store and pretzel bakery on West Walnut Street where the borough parking lot is currently located. The store opened during the 1890’s, a time when ice was used as a means of refrigeration.
 October 25, 1900 Central News Daub's Ice Dam and House construction  July 11, 1901 Central News Daub Ice advertisement |  1913 Sanborn Map: Walnut Street Ice Ponds |
Site of Daub;s Dam with former Highland Gas Company building in background-2026 Perkasie Historical Society archives Needing a source of ice, Jacob Daub constructed two ponds in 1899 on his property behind his store. During the winter when the ponds were frozen, ice could be cut and stored in ice houses constructed on the pond banks. In 1901, Daub had 500 tons of ice available for use in his store and for the retail ice delivery business that he established.
After the ponds were not used for ice harvesting, local residents began ice skating on them. The late Jim Snyder, who lived on South Fifth Street, noted that if he could see a fire burning alongside the pond, he knew people were skating.
Eventually, much of the property where the ponds were located was purchased by truck mirror manufacturer, Delbar Products. The dams were removed and the ponds emptied. Today the site of the ice ponds is part of The Delbar Apartments parking lot.
After the ponds were not used for ice harvesting, local residents began ice skating on them. The late Jim Snyder, who lived on South Fifth Street, noted that if he could see a fire burning alongside the pond, he knew people were skating.
Eventually, much of the property where the ponds were located was purchased by truck mirror manufacturer, Delbar Products. The dams were removed and the ponds emptied. Today the site of the ice ponds is part of The Delbar Apartments parking lot.
Doll
Cattle Pen at the Railroad Yard
Children playing at the Eighth Street cattle pen. Note the roof of the present-day Treasure Trove on the left of the photograph. Image from the Sterner-Parker Collection.
The Philadelphia and Reading Railroad established a small rail yard in Perkasie to manage rail shipments to and from town. A part of the rail yard was a stock pen used to hold livestock being shipped. The pens were originally located along Eighth Street across from the row homes (see Sanborn Map).
1913 Sanborn Map 8th Street near Market Freight Yard Train Station
Local butcher shops such as Charles Fehl and C.D. Moyer would purchase livestock that would be delivered to Perkasie by rail. At one time, livestock were herded through the streets of Perkasie on their way to being butchered.
In 1922 the Central News reported that the cattle pens were being relocated away from this residential area to the section of the freight yard located north of Market Street. Eventually livestock would be delivered to town by truck making the stock pens obsolete.
In 1922 the Central News reported that the cattle pens were being relocated away from this residential area to the section of the freight yard located north of Market Street. Eventually livestock would be delivered to town by truck making the stock pens obsolete.
RDoll
Connecting Crouthamel Family
Tragedies
Many of our “Memories “are results of interesting conversations with community members. This “Memory” came about a little differently. Lansdale Historical Society shared this tragic story involving a member of the Perkasie High School Football Team. Further investigation revealed a connection to a previous “Memory” involving a member of the same family. Yes, collaboration is a good thing and leads to a broader understanding of various situations.
Our friends at the Lansdale Historical Society with help from the Hatfield Historical Society shared on Facebook the following 1902 Thanksgiving Day story as “BACK THEN” by Pat Rieker.
Perkasie High School postcard: Pezzanite Collection
The Thanksgiving Day football game had become a local tradition by the turn of the 20th century, and enthusiasm was high for the holiday match-up between Perkasie and Lansdale High Schools on November 27, 1902.
The game was scheduled for 2pm in Lansdale. Fans in Perkasie joined the football team as they all crowded onto the long, double-truck trolley car for the southbound journey to Lansdale.
The game was scheduled for 2pm in Lansdale. Fans in Perkasie joined the football team as they all crowded onto the long, double-truck trolley car for the southbound journey to Lansdale.
Approaching Hatfield, the trolley descended the grade on Penn Avenue (Hatfield-Souderton Pike), picking up speed. As the car approached the 90-degree corner at Union St. (Unionville Pike), the brakes failed. The body of the trolley tipped over, leaving its trucks (sic) and crashing on its side onto the road.
One of the passengers, 14-year-old Wallace Crouthamel was killed instantly when he was thrown from the rear platform of the car where he had been standing. His parents and brother, a member of the Perkasie team, were not injured. One other passenger died the following day. Injuries sustained by the rest of the seventy-seven passengers included broken bones, burns from the overturned coal stove, and numerous cuts from broken glass. Doctors were summoned from Hatfield and Lansdale. Neighbors rushed to assist, and many homes in the area became makeshift hospitals.
In years to come, the Lehigh Valley Transit Co. would realign the trolley route to eliminate the 40+ curves between Lansdale and Perkasie.
And the football game? The entire Perkasie team was deemed fit to play football, and the game was played two days after Thanksgiving in Perkasie. Lansdale won, 12-0.
While assimilating this information from the DEATH BY TROLLEY Central News article of December 4, 1902, into our digital archives, we found some fascinating, tragic, and ironic connections. One casualty was Joseph Detweiler Jr., son of Rev, Detweiler of the Souderton area who was traveling to the doctors. Ironically, he had experienced a hunting accident where two of his fingers were shot off. Yet, he was on this fateful trolley. Joseph Detweiler died of internal injuries because of this trolley accident.
The other casualty, 14-year-old Wallace Crouthamel was killed instantly of a broken neck, when he was thrown from the rear platform of the trolley. His parents and brother, a member of the Perkasie team, were not injured.
Wallace Crouthamel was the son of Ephraim Keck “E.K.” Crouthamel, a Perkasie clothing manufacturer. His funeral took place at the Hatfield home of his grandfather, Jacob Crouthamel.
Wallace Crouthamel was the son of Ephraim Keck “E.K.” Crouthamel, a Perkasie clothing manufacturer. His funeral took place at the Hatfield home of his grandfather, Jacob Crouthamel.
E.K. Crouthamel was a pioneer in the expansion of Perkasie Clothing industry. In 1909, it was reported he had 160 hands making 1800 garments per week. Beginning his clothing business in Dublin, he then operated a factory in Hatfield. Additionally, he had been a proprietor of hotels in Philadelphia and locally owning Hotel Norwood and Tremont Hotel in Lansdale. E. K Crouthamel was active on the Perkasie School Board serving in varied positions including Treasurer and Education Visitation Committee.
E.K Crouthamel and wife Emma Cassel Crouthamel had three sons Jacob C., Wallace, Linford, and one daughter Margaret. The three boys all died at a relatively young age: two by vehicular accidents.
A past “Memory” told the story of Jacob C. Crouthamel, Wallace’s brother, who was also tragically killed. Jacob C. Crouthamel was a member of Perkasie Fire Company and died along with fellow firefighter Willis Sames on April 1, 1926. On that dreadful day, one hundred years ago, Perkasie Fire Company responded to what they understood to be a real fire. Enroute to the fire in Quakertown, Crouthamel and Sames were both killed as the firetruck sideswiped a pole. The “fire” turned out to be a drill. View Jeff Schoeller's presentation “Perkasie Fire Company #1, April 1st, 1926: Not an April's Fool's Joke" on our YouTube Channel and subsequently on our Memories of Perkasie page “Serendipitous Memories of Perkasie - Perkasie Historical Society
Yes, two brothers, sons of a community-oriented businessman, tragically killed 24 years apart while traveling to fulfill their interest and support of their community.
Doll ,Murga, Doll
E.K Crouthamel and wife Emma Cassel Crouthamel had three sons Jacob C., Wallace, Linford, and one daughter Margaret. The three boys all died at a relatively young age: two by vehicular accidents.
A past “Memory” told the story of Jacob C. Crouthamel, Wallace’s brother, who was also tragically killed. Jacob C. Crouthamel was a member of Perkasie Fire Company and died along with fellow firefighter Willis Sames on April 1, 1926. On that dreadful day, one hundred years ago, Perkasie Fire Company responded to what they understood to be a real fire. Enroute to the fire in Quakertown, Crouthamel and Sames were both killed as the firetruck sideswiped a pole. The “fire” turned out to be a drill. View Jeff Schoeller's presentation “Perkasie Fire Company #1, April 1st, 1926: Not an April's Fool's Joke" on our YouTube Channel and subsequently on our Memories of Perkasie page “Serendipitous Memories of Perkasie - Perkasie Historical Society
Yes, two brothers, sons of a community-oriented businessman, tragically killed 24 years apart while traveling to fulfill their interest and support of their community.
Doll ,Murga, Doll
Serving in Both World Wars:
Ralph Seidel
 Perkasie Historical Society World War I Tobacco Fund Book |  Photo Courtesy: Parker Collection |  Photo Courtesy: Parker Collection |
As Veterans Day approaches, former society vice-president, Jeanne Parker, has memories of her mother’s cousin, Ralph Seidel. Jeanne remembers Ralph occasionally visiting her grandparents’ house in Perkasie. Family members remarked that Ralph served in both World Wars.
The Seidel family moved to Ninth Street in Perkasie in 1905. Ralph attended Perkasie schools and enlisted in the Navy during World War I. He was called into active service on October 12th, 1917. After training he was assigned to submarine chaser S C 144. He was placed on inactive service in 1919.
After the war, Ralph worked for the Pennsylvania Highway Department as a surveyor. This skill was valuable during World War II as Ralph entered active service in 1942 as a member of the Navy Seabees. He served in North Africa and was discharged in 1945.
Perkasie American Legion Post 280, noted in a 1944 News Herald article that Ralph Seidel served in both World Wars. Besides Seidel, others serving in both conflicts were William Rutter, John Kowalczak of Hilltown, and Franklin Leon Arnold of Dublin.
Round N’ Round:
Bob Dunlap’s Menlo Memories
  |  |
As a teenager in the early 1950’s I worked for Henry Wilson, the owner of Menlo Park. I would ride my bike from our home in Silverdale to work at the carousel. I would either collect tickets or work the ring arm. When I was finished working it was dark, and I remember pedaling as fast as I could going up the hill on Walnut Street on my way home.
The carousel at the time was still the original carousel. When working the ring arm, I would calculate where to place the brass ring so the girl I liked would be able to grab it for a free ride.
I also worked in the Menlo bowling alley setting pins. You had to step on a pedal, and pegs would pop up from the floor. There were holes in the bottom of the pins allowing them to be placed on the pegs. You would then let your foot off the pedal as you jumped onto a bench to get out of the way of flying pins.
After The Perkasie Historical Society began operating the carousel in 1970, I started volunteering to collect tickets just as I had done in my youth. It is always great to see smiles on young children’s faces as they ride the carousel.
As long as I am able, I will continue to walk the carousel and collect tickets. And of course, have a hot dog with sauerkraut from the snack stand.
Thanks, Bob, for volunteering all those years!
Doll
The carousel at the time was still the original carousel. When working the ring arm, I would calculate where to place the brass ring so the girl I liked would be able to grab it for a free ride.
I also worked in the Menlo bowling alley setting pins. You had to step on a pedal, and pegs would pop up from the floor. There were holes in the bottom of the pins allowing them to be placed on the pegs. You would then let your foot off the pedal as you jumped onto a bench to get out of the way of flying pins.
After The Perkasie Historical Society began operating the carousel in 1970, I started volunteering to collect tickets just as I had done in my youth. It is always great to see smiles on young children’s faces as they ride the carousel.
As long as I am able, I will continue to walk the carousel and collect tickets. And of course, have a hot dog with sauerkraut from the snack stand.
Thanks, Bob, for volunteering all those years!
Doll
Perkasie Peace Sign
 |  |
First time visitors to the 500 block of West Walnut cannot help but notice the peace sign mural painted on side of 510 West Walnut. The building is home to Threddies, a woman’s fashion accessory business.
When Threddies owner Elana Donmoyer purchased the property in 2017 she wanted to do something to distinguish the building and make it stand out. She contacted Perkasie artist, Tim Gibson, who was working on the 10,000 flowers project. He agreed to paint flowers and a huge peace sign on the side of the building.
The flowers and the Peace sign were painted on the building in 2018 as a mural and not advertising for the Threddies business. It was always something Elana wanted to do.
The mural project has been successful in bringing attention to the building and has become a landmark for the West Walnut Street neighborhood.
RDoll
From Baskets to Woodstoves
 2015 Perkasie Railroad Station Rick Doll image |  2016 Perkasie Railroad Station Rick Doll image |
In 1975 Roger Stiles advertised baskets for sale in the Sunday New York Times Newspaper and in Apartment Life Magazine. He received many orders and arranged for an entire boxcar of baskets to be shipped from a manufacturer in Mexico.
When the boxcar was enroute, Roger worried about where he would store the baskets when they arrived. Having just an apartment, he contacted the railroad about leaving them in the boxcar. A railroad official told him there was a fee for boxcar storage, but the Perkasie Station building was available.
2017 Interior Perkasie Railroad Station, Rick Doll image The next day the railroad real estate agent arrived by train from Philadelphia and met Roger at Perkasie Station. The station had been closed for many years and had the windows boarded up and broken glass all over the floor. Needing a place for basket storage he decided to lease it.
The next few days were spent cleaning up the broken glass and readying the station.
The next few days were spent cleaning up the broken glass and readying the station.
| When the boxcar arrived, it was placed in the small rail yard that was located on the site of the current 8th Street parking lot. The baskets had to be carried over the tracks and into the station (see blue arrow on the rail yard photo to the right). By the time the boxcar was empty, the station was filled with baskets leaving only an eight-foot empty space near the front door. |  1940 circa Perkasie raii yard complements of Rich Jahn ARHS |
2016 Perkasie Railroad Station, Rick Doll image Perkasie Container Company made shipping boxes and over a few months the baskets were all shipped to their buyers. Roger Stiles would go on to continually lease both the Perkasie freight and passenger stations until 2017 for American Energy Alternatives, his woodstove business.
Doll
Memories of Perkasie
Sharing interesting connections between Perkasie's people, places and events.
Rick and Louise Doll
Navigation Hint: The postings can be viewed by date, by topic category, or in reverse chronological order (most recent posting first)
RSS Feed