Ninety-Five Years of the Pennsylvania Society: A “Who’s Who” of Business and Politics

From industrialist Andrew Carnegie to television personality Mister Rogers, The Pennsylvania Society has both honored and drawn its energy from prominent personages of the Commonwealth’s civic, business, academic, entertain­ment, and government circles for nearly a century. Best known for its legendary annual December awards dinner that lasts for but a few hours each year, the organization honors state and national leaders by presenting its gold medal and its Distinguished Citizen of the Commonwealth citation. The Society also presents a cash award to the recipient’s favorite educational or charitable group.

Among Pennsylvania gatherings, no other single event even comes close to qualifying as a statewide “Who’s Who” of this caliber. Industrialists, governors, university presidents, bankers and brokers, legislators, lawyers and judges, entrepreneurs, inventors, editors and publish­ers, philanthropists, developers, executives, and lobbyists all scramble for scarce reservations for this one winter evening. From its very not-so-humble beginnings, The Pennsylvania Society has counted among its dinner guests not only loyal sons of the Keystone State, but scions of its wealthiest and most influential families. For a recent dinner, subscriptions for tables on the main floor sold out in just three days.

And the event isn’t even held in the Keystone State.

The Pennsylvania Society has always held its dinner at the opulent Waldorf-Astoria Hotel on Manhattan’s posh Park Avenue. The reason is inextricably bound by the purpose for which the group was formed: to create some­thing of an alumni association for Pennsylvanians who had found their calling or their fortune – or both – in the Big Apple. Founded in April 1899, the organization was first known as The Pennsylvania Society of New York, and its purpose, according to its original constitution, was to “cultivate social intercourse among its members, and to promote their best interest; to collect historical material relating to the State of Pennsyl­vania, and to keep alive its memory in New York.”

The Pennsylvania Society’s inaugural yearbook, issued in 1901, clearly defined the fledgling organiza­tion’s goals.

Its work thus falls naturally into two divisions. Its social side is maintained by the Annual Dinner and meetings held for social purposes. Its historical aim is expressed not only in the intent to collect historical material, but more especially by the purpose to keep alive the memory of Pennsyl­vania in New York. Even if the Society did no more than recall to its members the State from which they came, its great past, its wonderful present, the possibilities of its future, it would accomplish a good and useful purpose that would more than justify its existence.

But the relationship of the Society to the State of Pennsylvania and to the country at large is much more important than this. The State that contains within its borders the Hall in which the Declaration of Independence was signed, and on whose soil the Battle of Gettysburg was fought, yields precedence to no other. Its early history, its wise and great founder, the active part its people took in the war for Independence, and the subsequent history of the Commonwealth, are among the most precious posses­sions of the American nation.

It is the good name of the State of Pennsylvania, its good deeds, and ifs good men, that the Pennsylvania Society of New York is concerned with; and its annual festivals and meetings rest upon this foundation. To preserve the good name and the fair fame of the State, and to aid in promoting those causes and methods which tend to that end, is the real work of the Society, and it invites every son of Pennsylvania residing in New York, or in places adjacent to if, who value these things, to join with it in the fulfillment of this purpose.

The concept of a New York­-based, native-state theme society was not new. Various groups formed to promote Missouri, Ohio, and other states among their former residents who lived or worked in the city, but for several reasons, The Pennsylvania Society came to enjoy a special standing. Because of its early prominence as a Mid-Atlantic industrial power and commer­cial center, Pennsylvania spawned many leaders in business and banking circles. Many of the Commonwealth’s public officials and govern­ment leaders found their way into national politics. And Manhattan was a short train ride away – just ninety minutes from Philadelphia. Unlike the situation faced by Missourians, for example, it was fairly convenient for Pennsylvanians and Pennsyl­vania politicians in Washington, D. C., to join the New Yorkers for the annual dinner and return the follow­ing day or, in some cases, even the same night.

Through the years, the com position of The Pennsylva­nia Society’s membership has changed considerably. In 1901, the Society counted two hundred and eighty-six “active” members, and just thirty-three “non-resident” members – that is, non­residents of the greater New York area. (The New York area was defined as being within fifty miles of the city). Among those thirty-three “non­residents” were eight from Philadelphia; three from Pittsburgh; three from Wash­ington, D. C.; two from Chicago; and, among Pennsyl­vania communities, two each from Clearfield, Jeddo, and Reading, and one each from Berwick, Franklin, and Scranton. A scattering of others lived in other states or other parts of New York state. It was – and remained so for many years – an exclusive, all­-male organization.

By 1949, the Society’s golden jubilee year, the number of actual Pennsylvania (“non-resident”) members outnumbered the New York­-area (“active”) members by a ten-to-one ratio, 2,234 to 218. Among the Pennsylvanians were 484 Philadelphians, 268 Pittsburghers, 207 Harrisburgers, and more than thirty each from Allentown, Lancaster, and Scranton.

According to the Society’s regulations, an “active” member must be a Pennsylvania native, a descendant of a Pennsylvanian, or an indi­vidual who lived in Pennsylvania for seven years. A “non-resident” is one who lives (or was born) in Pennsyl­vania, or who lived in the state for seven years. Over the years, the membership roster has reflected many familiar and famous Pennsylvania names, including Atherton, Benedum, Biddle, Bloom, Brashear, Burpee, Carnegie, Fairless, Gimbel, Grundy, Guggenheim, Heinz, Ingersoll, Kane, Kirby, Lamade, Lukens, Markle, McCormick, Mellon, Morris, Owlett, Pardee, Pennypacker, Pew, Pitcairn, Satterwhite, Scaife, Schoonmaker, Schwab, Scranton, Slaymaker, Steinman, Wanamaker, Woolworth, Wyeth, and Zurn.

In its early days, The Pennsylvania Society estab­lished an office in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, and conducted several events throughout the year. These events included a luncheon and annual business meeting in April; a sermon preached to the membership in autumn or spring; and miscellaneous dinners (in honor of an individual or for the presenta­tion of a progress report on a society project), exhibitions, memorial events, and meetings held as circumstances war­ranted. Today, the events are confined to an annual meeting in the spring and the annual dinner in December.

During its first few decades, the Society continued to publish an annual yearbook. More than simply a summary of society events, the publica­tion, a modest-appearing, cloth-bound hardback book, contained information and illustrations, all of which related to Pennsylvania people, places, or events. Included were a random selection of feature stories about historical subjects and famous figures; line drawings and photographs of paintings; depictions of historic buildings and structures; reviews of books; lists of Pennsylvania­-related magazine articles; records of monuments and memorials that had been proposed for, or erected to, Pennsylvania individuals or institutions; notices of anniversaries (church, commercial, county, educa­tional, fraternal, historical, municipal, industrial, and theatrical); and maps showing such diverse subjects as the early development and property subdivision of towns, the location of stogie sweat­shops in Pittsburgh, and the geological configuration (by cross-section) of seams of anthracite coal.

Less than a decade after the Society’s creation, its council began to consider a project to place a memorial to William Penn at his birthplace in London. When council members discovered that the original site had been turned into a railway yard and then abandoned, they chose the next best site, the church in which Pennsylvania’s founder was baptized on October 23, 1644. The council had asked architect and society member Charles Follen McKim to design the plaque; McKim accepted the invitation but died on September 14, 1908, before beginning work on it. A delay ensued while the architect’s well-known firm, McKim, Mead and White, completed the design, and a dedication ceremony was held at the Church of Allhallows Barking-by-the-Tower on Thursday, July 13, 1911. Following the memorial’s unveiling and dedication – and in true Pennsylvania Society style – were a series of special events, including an exhibition and tea at the Devonshire House in Bishopsgate and a gala din11er at Stafford House, lent for the party by the Duke of Sutherland. Among those attending the dinner as guests of society president Robert Means Thompson were London’s Lord Mayor, Sir T. Vezey Strong and his wife, Lady Strong; members of the Penn family, including the Earl of Ranfurly; Philadelphia artist Joseph Pennell; Sir Charles Johnson, Sheriff of London; Barr Ferree, founder and secretary of The Pennsylvania Society; and a goodly number of titled Englishmen.

The evening’s menu certainly befitted gentlemen of rank and privilege. They feasted on Melon glace, A la tortue clair, Krupnic a la reigne, Truite a la Christiana, Filet de sole a la Jongleur, Ris de veau n la Victoria, Baron d’agneau provencale, Beignets de pomme, Pois de Nice, Mousse de jambonneau avec sauce Berclere, Epinards a la creme, Caille sur croustade, Salad beige, Souffle a la royale, Peches glaces a la favorite, Cassolette a la Sefton, and Pol Roger.

Another early tradition established by the Society­ – albeit far less heady than the galas and ceremonial din­ners – was the collecting of official flags from various Pennsylvania municipalities and counties. These flags are displayed at the annual dinners, and occasionally, the collection is enlarged when a delegate from a previously unrepresented community or region makes an official presentation.

The Pennsylvania Society’s yearly dinner, originally called the “Annual Festival,” a glamorous event held in the Waldorf-Astoria’s glimmering grand ballroom for those lucky enough to receive the coveted invitations, has always ranked as The Pennsylvania Society’s most important function. As Manhattan grows dusky and twilight descends, celebrants don evening attire, black tie for the gentlemen and stylish gowns and dresses for the ladies. All know that this will be a special night. Among the speakers and honorees have been United States presidents, past presidents, and presi­dents-to-be. Many Pennsylvania governors, past and present, have attended, including James A. Beaver, Samuel W. Pennypacker, Edwin S. Stuart, John K. Tener, Martin G. Brumbaugh, William C. Sproul, Gifford Pinchot, John S. Fisher, Arthur H. James, Edward Martin, James H. Duff, John S. Fine, George M. Leader, William W. Scranton, Dick Thornburgh, and Robert P. Casey. Chief executives of neighboring states – New York’s Charles E. Hughes (1907) and Nelson Rockefeller (1967), Maryland’s Edwin Warfield (1904), Connecticut’s Abiram Cham­berlain (1904), and Ohio’s John W. Bricker (1943) – have also participated.

In addition to state and national figures, speakers and honorees have included industrialists (Andrew Carnegie, Andrew W. Mellon, and Henry Ford), international statesmen (Winston Churchill), military chiefs (Defense Secretary Thomas Gates, General of the Army Henry Arnold, and former NATO Commander Alfred Gruenther), sports legends (Penn State football coach Joe Paterno and golfer Arnold Palmer), religious leaders (John Cardinal O’Connor), educators (Fred Rogers), explorers (Robert E. Peary, discoverer of the North Pole), medical pioneers (Dr. William W. Keen, “Father of Antiseptic and Aseptic Surgery”); writers (author James A. Michener), artists (painter Andrew Wyeth), and musicians (conductor Fred Waring).

At its eleventh annual dinner in 1909, the Society presented its first gold medal for distinguished achievement to Dr. Horace Howard Furness, a noted Shakespearean scholar. The prestigious medal, designed by New York sculptor John Flanagan, features a profile portrait of William Penn on the obverse, and on the reverse, three male nudes representing Force, Character, and Intelli­gence, to whom a female figure, Renown, is awarding sprigs of laurel. Andrew Carnegie was the second recipient, in 1911, and the following year the organiza­tion honored its first foreign recipient, British ambassador James Bryce. The gold medal, awarded from time to time to individuals the organization wishes to honor, has also been bestowed on Pres. Herbert Hoover (1940), Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower (1947), Richard K. Mellon (1954), Gov. William W. Scranton (1968), and Sen. Hugh Scott (1973), and Dr. C. Everett Koop (1991), who served as Surgeon General of the United States from 1981 to 1989. To date, only two women, Louise Whitfield Carnegie (1934) and Mamie Eisenhower (1974), have been awarded the coveted gold medal.

The most recent gold medal was presented to entertainer William (“Bill”) H. Cosby, Jr., on December 12, 1992, before an audience of more than fifteen hundred society members and guests. His humor peppered his provoca­tive acceptance speech, but he shared his intimate memories of growing up in Philadelphia with those assembled.

This is 1992. I was born in 1937. I remember in 1949 saying to some of the fellows in the projects that one day I think we would have a Negro president by 1980. And these Negro boys laughed at me. To me, 1980 seemed so far away, we could put it together. I think that when we look at our cities, at the places where I grew up. We were supposed to be poor and we were poor. Thank God for the State of Pennsylvania. When there was no work to be had, when there was no father to support, there was a thing called relief. And the wonderful mailman! We loved him to death because he was always on time with that check. And the wonderful city and state supported us by putting us into a housing project, Richard Allen­ – thirty-two dollars month rent, two bedrooms, a bathtub, a kitchen, and a stove, gas, refrigerator, not an icebox. Hot dog! And we had a backyard because we were Apartment A.

I went to Central High School, the two hundred and fourth class, played football, broke my shoulder and the doctor at the Einstein Medical Center where it was for free because we had no money­ – we were still on relief – said … I think he said for me not to go to school for six weeks. I think he said that, but I’m not sure. So I stayed out and had a ball. I got hooked on Helen Trent and Our Gal Sunday and old Ma Perkins. I worried about her a lot. I ate Campbell’s Soup with a cast on my arm, and my mother was so busy size didn’t look at me and say, “it’s just your arm, why can’t you walk?” … Anyway, I came back to Central in the two hundred and fifth class, and I decided I just didn’t feel like studying so I failed everything except chorus and art. So, then l came back next September in the two hundred and sixth class. When I left Central I was in the two hundred and eighth class. I transferred to Germantown because there were some girls over there and I figured if I was failing, I might as well have a good time. Quit Germantown because I felt rather old looking.

We bought a house on Twenty-First and Godfrey, cost five thousand dollars. A house – ­the rent was twenty-nine dollars. It was a neighborhood that was black. We lived in a place called Germantown. There were no Germans. They were there. Where did they go? Nobody knows where they went. They left their culture here though, and they had these Negroes eating scrapple.

… Of politics, I remember when I was a kid that they would pick up people. You have so many people it’s like a union – the alderman, the committeeman, or somebody. Whoever it was when you went to jail, they went down to get you out and wound up getting arrested themselves. But the Democrats would pick you up election day in a car and drive you to the polling place and take your hand and put it on the lever, and give you two dollars. They had the biggest parties election night in Philadelphia.

Today, The Pennsylvania Society enjoys politically bipartisan membership and attendance at its functions, and its dinner has been described by the New York Times as a “traditional sounding board for presidential aspirants.” The fact that so many business and financial cllieftains have taken leadership roles has colored its composition more towards the Republican than the Demo­cratic Party. Attendance at the annual dinner was, and still is, for example, a “must” for Republican Party aspirants seeking public (or higher public) office. During the Great Depression, speakers at the annual dinner almost uni­formly blasted Democratic Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, calling it the “New Paternalism” and clainling it represented nothing more than a “zigzag” policy. One exception was William Wallace Atterbury, president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, who, at the 1933 dinner, bravely declared the Depression to be over. “I am an enthusiastic believer,” he said, “in the patriotism, the courage, and the resourcefulness of Franklin D. Roosevelt. Though a strong Republican in my political affiliations, I have felt and still feel that this is no time for the assertion of political partisanship.”

Over the years, the dinner, which draws as many as two thousand celebrants, has served as an intentional – and sometimes unintentional­ – sounding board for national policy proposals. Several speakers have laughed at themselves. A few have been heckled and jeered.

The Pennsylvania Society attracted the greatest attention during the dinner of 1906, when a speaker’s remarks ignited a series of reactions that, in turn, triggered dozens of newspaper editorials throughout the country. U. S. Secretary of State Elihu Root remarked that if states didn’t guard their powers, the federal government would exercise stronger control. Somehow this was interpreted to mean that Root advocated a new federal­ism and the weakening of states rights. In addition to the editorials, more than one thousand articles and essays were prompted by Root’s speech. “Five stout scrap­books have not sufficed to contain the records of the doings of that night and the comments made upon the addresses,” the Society’s annual yearbook duly noted.

“Marvelous accounts of our doings were those sent out into the world, strangely distorted, weird statements, quite sufficient to dispel forever one’s faith in the reliability of newspaper utterances,” the report continued. “That a San Francisco paper located our dinner in Philadelphia is, perhaps, not strange, for no doubt many well-educated persons imagine that Philadel­phia and Pennsylvania are two different names for one and the same thing. But that a New York paper should transport our festival to the Park Avenue Hotel, that it should be recorded that we did not treat our guest courteously, and that all sorts of strange things happened which did not happen is, indeed, a remark­able commentary on the resources of the press of the country.”

As Elihu Root finished his talk, the evening’s excitement was only beginning. Pennsyl­vania Supreme Court Justice J. Hay Brown followed Root at the rostrum, hailing the power and importance of the judi­ciary as guardian of freedom. “How transcendent is its authority,” Brown said, “to mark the limits of legislative and executive power, to administer the law and give commands not only to individuals, but to Presidents and Congresses.”

Some reporters mistakenly interpreted Brown’s remarks as a retort or response to Root, but in fact, the two speeches were prepared independently. “A striking feature of the Dinner was the remarkable antithesis shown in the speeches of Mr. Root and Judge Brown,” the Society’s yearbook continued. “Mr. Root’s speech, as all the world knew the next morning, was his celebrated address on ‘State Rights.’ Justice Brown spoke on ‘The Judiciary’ and had prepared an address without the slightest knowl­edge of what Mr. Root would have to say. Yet it happened that many of the positions he advanced were directly antagonistic to the arguments of the Secretary. This added immensely to the interest of the Dinner, and was a coinci­dence almost without parallel.”

While this was the event that figuratively put the Society on the political map, other dinners and other speakers were just as interesting.

Alabama Congressman Oscar W. Underwood, chairman of the Ways and Means Committee and Democratic floor leader, intended to criticize Pres. Theodore Roosevelt in his address to the Society in 1911, but misjudged his audience. When Underwood first mentioned Roosevelt’s name, the room reverberated with wild cheering that lasted three minutes, and when he de­nounced the president, the New York Times noted, “there was some show of disapproval.”

In 1923, gold medalist Andrew W. Mellon, then Secretary of the U.S. Depart­ment of the Treasury, declined to speak because of his policy of not making speeches (although he did relent to make a two-sentence accep­tance speech). Instead, U. S . Solicitor General James Beck gave the keynote address, painting a grim picture of American life, culture, and society, citing, among other ills, his observation that “people are not interested in public affairs, as they once were” and further alleging that “we are puppets who dance and cheer pretty much as the strings are pulled by the papers left at our doors.”

Taking issue, the irrepress­ible Gov. Gifford Pinchot, who was in the audience, implied that he would have replied publicly had the hour not been so late. “The Solicitor General should not have presented so gloomy a view,” he later told a reporter. “One would think from his remarks that the United States was going to the dogs. He, you, and I know that this is not so.”

Just two years later, Charles M. Schwab, chairman of Bethlehem Steel and president of the Society, took the opposite view from Beck, mirroring the giddy mood of business in the pre-stock­-market-crash era. “The American people ought to be the happiest in the world,” he said. “Unprecedented prosperity surrounds us on every hand.”

The group has always been led by those occupying higher stations of life, and today its demeanor is civilized ai.1d polite. Occasionally, however, so.me dinners have grown riotous, with participants acting more like college students on holiday than captains of industry. Early in this century, Pittsburghers and Philadelphians clustered at their own tables, not infre­quently piercing the din of the grand ballroom with noisy outbursts to proclaim – for one and all – fierce loyalty to their respective cities.

In 1914, the audience booed U. S. Congressman Richmond Pearson Hobson – shouting “sit down, sit down” – after which three-fourths of the guests walked out. The reason? Hobson spoke for an hour, far longer than the customary speech. The New York Times even found this innocuous incident newswor­thy. “Members of the Pennsylvania Society said when the dinner broke up, shortly before midnight, that Robson’s reception had not been due to discourtesy, but to the desire of the members to get to their homes. Mr. Hobson had desired to be excused from speaking, but he had been prevailed upon to come from Washington. This, it was said, added to the embarrassment of the Society’s officers.”

In 1928, Dr. William W. Keen, accepting the gold medal, poked fun at himself. “From my birthday, January 19, 1837, to July 4, 1776, covers only sixty-one and one-half years, while from my birth [in 1837] to January 19, 1929, covers ninety­-two years. You see, therefore, what a fossil Mr. Schwab and the directors have dug up. But though a fossil, I am a lively one and not a dead one.”

With the arrival of the Great Depression, the annual dinner was canceled for 1932 “in the belief that present conditions do not justify the holding of a dinner,” according to the New York Times. It was resumed the following year. And they grew more significant with each passing year.

By the late thirties, the speeches were considered to be of such generaJ interest that New York City radio stations began to broadcast them live. During World War II, the presence of military leaders grew more evident, and at the 1944 dinner – celebrating the tercentenary of William Penn’s birth – no fewer than eight of the twenty-two individuals seated at the head table were colonels, admirals, or generals. One of the two gold medal winners that year was Gen. George C. Marshall, Army Chief of Staff, and Uniontown, Fayette County, native.

Gov. John S. Fine touched on a topic during the 1951 dinner that pertained more to Pennsylvania residents than to the Society’s founding con­stituency of New Yorkers, announcing that a state income tax was inevitable by 1953. In a 1964 speech to the Society that now appears rather ironic, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover urged a “constant vigil” against “extremists” who might use the emerging civil rights movement as a vehicle for personal power and prestige, those “who would shortcut the orderly processes of government and demand a mantle of special privilege under the law.” Little did anyone then suspect that Hoover himself was spying not just on extremists but on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and other civil rights leaders. Nor could anyone realize then that Hoover enjoyed his own “special mantle of privilege under the law,” blackmailing and bullying presidents and winking at organized crime.

Even though the mission of The Pennsylvania Society remains what it has been for many years, the organization has made minor but meaning­ful adaptations. Because it was founded as an all-male membership organization, a parallel group for women, The Society for Pennsylvania Women in New York, was formed on November 6, 1913. “Although taking for its parent the Pennsylvania Society,” observed the New York Times, “the newly founded organiza­tion wishes itself classed as an entirely independent body and not as an auxilliary. It already comprises more than a hundred members.” The Society of Pennsylvania Women in New York con­ducted its fast annual dinner at the Waldorf-Astoria on December 18, coinciding with The Pennsylvania Society’s fifteenth annual dinner. In 1968, the Society of Pennsylva­nia Women voted to disband. “This action was taken after the majority of the members indicated that they felt the original purposes of the Society are now being met in other ways through changes which have taken place in the social order of our country,” wrote Marian Jobson on behalf of the organization.

Mirroring the social conditions of the era, accounts of The Pennsylvania Society’s dinner duly noted that women did attend – but they were seated in the balconies and not on the main floor. Only one woman, Mrs. Mullin Wayne, was seated at the head table. Over time, this, too, has changed and recent galas have witnessed as many women as men at the head table. Women were admitted as members beginning in the 1970s. State Rep. Marilyn S. Lewis of Montgomery County served as the Society’s fast female council member. There are no membership restrictions based on sex, color, creed, or race.

Reflecting the fact that it is no longer dominated by New York residents, The Pennsylva­nia Society moved its office in 1985 from the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel to a modern office in Sellersville, Bucks County, managed by retired banker William H. Barndt. Technol­ogy, too, has made an impact on the Society. In recent years, the group has expanded its floor area to adjacent rooms of the Waldorf-Astoria by connecting them to the main ballroom by closed-circuit television. And beginning in 1986, the proceedings have been videotaped.

Regardless of changes, the purpose of The Pennsylvania Society stays constant and the deep pride in the Keystone State remains unshaken. A comment by a speaker at the second annual dinner, in 1900, might serve to best summarize that enduring self-confidence. It was made by the Rev. Cyrus Townsend Brady whose talk was entitled “The Pennsylva­nian Beyond His State.”

I have been struck, Mr. President and gentlemen, by the quality – and quantity as well – of modesty which has been on exhibition by the Pennsylvanians here this evening, and as I have learned many other things, so also have f been able to settle several vexed theological questions. I know now that the Garden of Eden was located in Pennsylva­nia. We can furnish all the dramatis personae for the celebrated scene there – except the Devil, and we have only to cross the Delaware to find him in New Jersey.

For Further Reading

Baltzell, E. Digby. An American Business Aristocracy. New York: Collier Books, 1962.

Burt, Nathaniel. The Perennial Philadelphians: The Anatomy of an American Aristocracy. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1963.

Ferree, Barr, ed. Report on William Penn Memorial in London. New York: The Pennsylvania Society, 1911.

____. Marshal Foch and The Pennsylvania Society. New York: The Pennsylvania Society, 1922.

____. War Addresses: 1917. New York: The Pennsylvania Society, 1918.

____. Year Book of The Pennsylvania Society, 1903. New York: The Pennsylvania Society, 1903.

The editor wishes to thank William H. Barndt, executive director of The Pennsylvania Society, for his graciousness in providing background material for this article.

Dan Cupper, Harrisburg, is a freelance writer whose previous contributions to Pennsylvania Heritage have included “Grif Teller Paints the Pennsy” (winter 1990), “America’s Dream Highway” (fall 1990), and “The Romance of Pennsylvania Agriculture” (winter 1991). He is the author of several books, the most recent of which, Crossroads of Commerce: The Pennsylvania Railroad Calendar Art of Grif Teller, was published in 1992 by Great Eastern Publishing Company of Richmond, Vermont.