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Clyde Croasdale reads from a book of poetry to honor his father at Saturday's rededication Where life blossoms again
Crystal Springs is rededicated in Mayfair

BY DAVID J. FOSTER
Staff Writer

It was named for the cool brooks that trickled near Pennypack Creek, and became home to a popular hotel that invited city residents to escape Philadelphia's suffocating humidity and bask in the cool shade of the parks' green canopy.

Even when the hotel closed in 1916 as part of the Fairmount Park system's acquisition of the Pennypack, Crystal Springs remained a favorite spot for wedding photographs.

Last Saturday, to celebrate Earth Day, the Friends of Pennypack Park and the Fairmount Park Commission returned to the Rowland Ave. and Rhawn St. site to recall and honor the past.

Friends historian Harvey Cantor, describing the area, quoted author Rev. S. Hotchkin, who described the area in 1893, "The view (from) the creek . . . is one of the most picturesque in the entire region."

But recent years haven't been kind to the wooded grove. Fewer residents remembered the area as the beloved Crystal Springs. To most people, it was the Rowland / Rhawn entrance to the park, a bus stop for students heading home from Lincoln High School and Father Judge.

It became overgrown. In time, vandalizes swooped in.

But Rose Milnor kept up hope. Eight years ago, the former president of the Friends of Pennypack Park began planning what would culminate last weekend: the $20,000 restoration of Crystal Springs.

Half the money was raised from private donations, the remaining half matched by the Fairmount Park Commission.

Matthew Callo adds a shovel-full of soil to the base of a new dogwood tree Now living in Maryland, Milnor returned to witness the christening of the rejuvenated Crystal Springs. And what better way to christen the area than to plant a new dogwood tree in honor of all the Pennypack Park friends who recently passed away.

With Fairmount Park Commissioner William Mifflin looking on, a line formed behind the dogwood. Each volunteer either sprinkled water at the tree's young roots, or added a shovel-full of soil to its base. Most kept their thoughts private.

Clyde Croasdale spoke aloud. Honoring his father, a poet, he read a verse expounding on why they were there.

"He who plants a tree, he plants love" Croasdale said, reading from a worn book of poetry. "Tents of coolness spreading out above wayfarers he may not live to see. Gifts that grow up best, hands that bless are blessed. Plant. Life does the rest. Heaven and earth help him who plants a tree, and his work its own reward shall be."


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