Lately things just don't seem the same. Take a look at any Philadelphia tourism literature and you're going to see Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. Variations of each are found in innumerable logos and sales merchandising. They are our icons, the badges we wear to announce to our visitors, "welcome to Philadelphia." We are proud of these icons because they're larger than Philadelphia; they are uniquely American, telling the story of the freedom we so loudly profess in this modern age. Why, then, has Independence Hall been on lockdown for going on five years now?

City Paper won awards for its issue covering 9/11, Nothing Will Ever Be the Same. That they were able to put together such a coherent issue with such a powerful and truthful title, on deadline, in one frantic day, is impressive. And it's true, nothing is the same, especially at Independence Hall.

Because of 9/11, Independence Hall has been under the utmost scrutiny, which I suppose makes sense, considering it is the crown jewel of Independence National Historical Park, as one park ranger put it. Liberty Bell Center itself is a post-9/11 facility. With it, what you see is what you get. After you've been screened and approved as NOT a threat, there is no irony, just interactivity and raisin boxes with Liberty Bell insignias and little bells that kids can make ding and a busted-ass centuries old bell behind a velvet rope. Only here, you can't pay the bouncer off. As strong as your desire may be, and even if you did before, you can't touch the bell. That relationship is over; post-9/11, it's all look, no touch. The preferred look, the view Liberty Bell Center's architects Bohlin Cywinski Jackson crafted best for you, is southeasterly, a picture perfect postcard view with Independence Hall across the street.

Postcard view

When I moved to Philadelphia in fall 2000, I lived (squatted with my friend Bekka) in Germantown and worked at 5th & Walnut, taking the R8 from Queen Lane to Market East every morning. How I exited Market East depended on my sense of adventure, but once above ground, it was the same route: walk across the Mall between Market and Walnut, past Mitchell/Giurgola's 1976 Liberty Bell Pavilion, across Chestnut Street, through the archway of Independence Hall and through Independence Square to work. For a small town boy living in his first big city, it was an everyday routine not taken for granted. It was an everyday routine that, boiled down, is a casual American freedom. That casual American freedom, since 9/11, is no longer an option.

Only the privileged (pre-screened) few may pass through the archway nowadays. Concrete posts and chains along Chestnut Street, unsightly bike rack barriers decorated with American bunting you might see during the World Series or primary elections within the Square, and roaming armed guards employed by federal favorite Wackenhut will see to it that you don't expect a casual American stroll through the archway and half of Independence Square.

Not passin' thru

When I have out of town visitors, it's inevitable that we'll make our way to the Liberty Bell, but it had been a while since I'd visited Independence Hall. So, in light of the news that these same bike rack barriers were going to be removed (a good thing) and replaced by a permanent seven foot iron fence (a very bad thing), I thought I'd pay a visit to the old stomping grounds and see what's what at Independence Hall.

I arrive at 5th & Chestnut, the entrance through the bike racks, where a big sign reminds me "you need a ticket." Duh, that's my bad. Go get it for free at the Independence Visitors Center (designed by Kallmann McKinnell & Wood, 2002).

Get yr ticket, two blocks thataway

After picking up my ticket, I take my once familiar route across the Mall, where the Liberty Bell Pavilion no longer stands. It is now just grass, part of the larger sightline that will run from Independence Hall to the National Constitution Center once the park portion between Market and Arch Streets is completed. Along the way, I stop to chat with some locals. Lori and Kiki are keeping an eye on the kids playing on an outside break from the daycare center at the Bourse. I ask them what they think about the idea of a seven foot fence around their neighboring landmark. Kiki says "it's not fair." Lori agrees, saying "everything is done in the name of security. It's a crutch." Hearing the conversation, a nearby woman says "it sucks; we need to get Bush the hell out."

Lori and Kiki from Philadelphia

What does President George W. Bush have to do with a fence at Independence Hall? In a sense, well, nearly everything. The National Park Service is operated by the U.S. Department of the Interior. The Department of the Interior is a wing of the Executive Branch. They (NPS & DOI) are answering to the Department of Homeland Security -- created under Bush's watch -- in proposing the fence. Freedom and safety are perhaps the Bush administration's most frequent vocab terms.

Noting the time, I head back to 5th & Chestnut to enter Independence Hall's privileged area. Only first, visitors must pass through airport-like security, stationed inside the first home of the US Supreme Court, known locally as "Old City Hall." With all the geniality of a prison warden, private guards escort you single file to a metal detector. They stop short of taking off your shoes, but you do need to remove your belt.

Supreme security, overexposed

In addition to the above, I got a picture of the x-rayed tray, which included my cell phone, wallet, ipod, camera and belt, but then I was stopped. I noticed a cowboy looking hired guard whispering not to me, but to a younger park ranger, who then asked if I took a picture in security. I told him yes, and he said I needed to delete it. Noting that there are signs everywhere, I said that I didn't see anything saying I couldn't take a picture there. (The ranger giving the Independence Hall tour said moments later during his speech that all photography is welcomed and encouraged.) While the cowboy watched, I sensed that the ranger didn't particularly like this aspect of his job, but I obliged and deleted that picture as he'd requested.

Pssst pssst pssst, don't take that picture

Apparently I'm not the only one who finds Independence Hall's security cold, impersonal and overbearing. A Wilkes-Barre blogger named Gort commented after a recent visit to Philly to watch Phillies rookie Cole Hamels pitch and to visit the Park:

One of my joys in visiting the city is to take in an afternoon visiting the birthplace of American freedom. But to do it now you are treated like a criminal. To see the Liberty Bell, the Old City Hall and the building the Declaration of Independence was debated you are required to get tickets, pass through metal detectors and deal with fencing all around the place. This is bullshit.

Christine from Redding, California was visiting Amanda from Lancaster, PA. The two rode Amtrak into 30th Street from Lancaster and meandered through the city to Independence Park. Christine said "I understand why they need to [screen], but it's really annoying." Amanda agreed, asking "why are they so grouchy?" Christine then wondered "why can't you use the bathroom once you're inside?" Maybe it's because it's the one thing they realize they can't watch you do. Maybe it's because terrorists poop, too. Once inside security, it's like a concert or a ballgame: no readmission without a ticket. Conveniently, there is a huge bathroom across Chestnut Street from the bike rack entrance, so keep that in mind on your next visit.

Christine from California (left), Amanda from Lancaster (right), and a foreign visitor happy about a photo op

Since the actual tour isn't set to begin for another 5-10 minutes, I stroll around the grounds, seeing closeup what I used to see all the time.

GW, not Gee Dubya

Not a pagoda

Archway lovin' American

I sit down next to a couple relaxing and waiting for their turn to be led through the grounds. Rony and Marion are visiting from Germany, checking out Philadelphia between visiting Washington and New York. Rony seems indifferent to the security, saying "I guess I understand . . . it's for your concerns of terrorism." Marion had more of an opinion, noting that "it's different in Europe, things are much older. You don't have to go through this to see things a thousand years old; in Washington, we went through security to go to a food court."

Rony and Marion, from Germany

At this point, the 11:30 ticket was being called, and no sooner could Rony, Marion and I get in line than did a tour group beat us to it.

Colonial dye

We all fit inside, and a park ranger began the tour with a thorough description of why Independence Hall, then the PA State House, is significant -- the debate and signing of Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution, general governance, among other things -- and requested that visitors spit out their gum, seal their food, take lots of pictures, and be careful not to get their knees stuck in the railing posts, lest they be vaselined up by the same ranger and painfully removed.

Now ya gettin' done without vaseline

The ranger was pleasant and informative, as one would expect, leading the tour through the different rooms of Independence Hall. (My pictures of these rooms can be found HERE.)

Once the tour was over, I came back outside -- the outside inside the bike racks, that is -- into the privileged secure area. Bill, Nancy and Jeannette, a family visiting from Wisconsin, told me they were enjoying their visit, and that they too had purposely stopped in Philadelphia en route to New York from Washington. (Note to GPTMC tourism: nice work! Now just axe the cheesy showtunes-in-pajamas ads and we'll be complete.) Bill is a veteran, an ex-Marine, who thinks that there might not be enough security at Independence Hall. "I can't believe they just have the chain and posts out front." I asked what he would like to see. "I don't know. More people? You never know who's determined to hop those chains. Although I suppose [the security is good enough that] we won't see Nicolas Cage climbing out of that window." (Points to window in the tower, as seen in National Treasure.) "We just came from DC. Standing at the top of the Lincoln Memorial, it's very . . . inspiring. Like here. They're are symbols of our freedom. We need to protect them."

Bill, Nancy and Jeannette from Wisconsin

While some military personnel may agree with Bill, not all do. The blog of the Daily News's Flavia Colgan had a comments section recently in which one Marine commented, "the fence at Independence Square is a bad idea. For one, it signals to the terrorists that we are afraid . . . I would rather suffer the phantom plots of an unseen enemy than lose the freedoms and liberty that make us uniquely American." Another Marine suggests "this country's liberty/ freedom was not won by protecting stone figures and old brick buildings. It was won on the battlefields and in the trenches where our troops shed THEIR blood . . . We need to focus on people, not items."

An Army soldier currently deployed in Baghdad -- an authority on American freedom and safety if ever there was one -- thinks that "while there may be a somewhat minimal threat to the location due to terrorism, so there also is to Valley Forge National Park. Are they going to fence that off too? . . . It does represent a symbol of freedom that seems to have faded somewhat with the passage of time. Wackenhut Security and the Park Rangers already extensively patrol the grounds, so where is the need for the fences? Unfortunately, I am sure that when I return from Iraq to see Independence Hall again, it will have a large fence surrounding it." I hope that soldier is wrong, but where he's a good authority on American freedom, so too is he probably a good authority on governmental decision making.

Fulfilled -- and annoyed -- by my visit, I bid that archway adieu and left the privileged area. I headed east past The Signer, and through the alleyway by the Second National Bank, where I noticed a lone visitor enjoying the procession of kids being led along the cobblestones of Sansom St by 'Thomas Jefferson' to the place where the kids get the play bayonets. Visiting from Alabama, Lillian said that she made a point to visit the Liberty Bell, because between obtaining a ticket and subjecting to security, visiting Independence Hall was too much of a production. "Everything is done in the name of protection," she says. "But it's fear, really. It's really bad (that they want to erect a fence). A seven foot fence would be really ugly."

Lillian from Alabama

Evangelos Frudakis' sculpture The Signer, 1980

I agree with Lillian. It is really bad. Half a dozen people who've written to Philly Skyline agree. Senator Arlen Specter, Congressmen Chaka Fattah and Bob Brady, Governor Ed Rendell and Mayor John Street agree. (Senator Rick Santorum has not returned my email, and the person who answered the phone in his office did not know his stance and would not wager a guess.) The Philadelphia Inquirer's editorial board agrees.

We all agree that it is a really bad idea to surround an icon of freedom with a seven foot fence. A big fella by the name of Franklin that spent quite a bit of time inside those same walls, two hundred thirty some years before any bike racks established privilege, is credited with saying "Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." The National Park Service, Department of the Interior and Department of Homeland Security, with their proposal of a seven foot fence around the exact birthplace of America, dismiss and utterly ignore the founding father's statement. This irony is not lost on many of us, and if I dare speak for these same people, it is sickening. Is there a follow-up plan, that in the very public square, Independence Square, where the Declaration of Independence was read to the public for the first time in 1776, to read a Declaration of Concession to the public in 2006? For that is what we are doing if we surround our historic icon with a fence: we are conceding. Conceding to fear, conceding to the potential -- not definite -- threat of a terrorist attack. In short, we're conceding our essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety.

What do I propose they do, then? Well . . . WWBFD? What would Ben Franklin do? I'll bet he wouldn't build a seven foot fence. I'll also bet that he would recognize 2006 as a different day and age than his 1776, and that technology has changed. Perhaps one method could employ mounted surveillance cameras like the ones Philadelphians voted in favor of last November at ideal intervals around Independence Hall. Make use of them, and retrain the armed hired guards and park rangers for a more disciplined eye. Allow the same intelligence which has kept our country mostly safe to keep doing what it is doing. And, for clarification, stopping the fence is not enough; the status quo is no reward. The bike racks are ugly, straight up eyesores. They need to go, and the fence needs to not even arrive.

As I was making my way back to my bike to head home, I saw two colonial actors sitting on a bench, and I thought theirs would be an interesting opinion. They're local, they're not Park Service employees (rather, they're employees of the non-profit Once Upon a Nation), and they're immersed in the ideals and geography of Independence National Historical Park every day. There was a woman sewing and a man just enjoying the shade, as the sun had finally come out. When I asked what they thought about the idea of converting ugly bike rack barriers to a seven foot fence, the man paused and looked at the woman. She thought for a second and said, "it's not our place to comment. [The NPS] will do what they think is best." Fair enough. "But ask me if you want to know about King George." All right . . . tell me about King George. "He's a tyrant . . . and I hear that he's crazy!" The colonial man echoed this, "huzzah!" Huzzah. I can't argue with that. King George, it seems, he's crazy.

Finally, for reference, here is a view of Independence Hall from Independence Square. Standing next to the statue of US Naval Commodore John Barry, at the center of the park, we are looking at Independence Hall through the obstacle of a seven foot fence. It's unlikely that the Park Service's choice of ironwork would resemble 7' Sixers center Samuel Dalembert, but the scale would be the same. As an American, I do not want a fence around Independence Hall. I hope you don't either.

R. Bradley Maule
August 2006

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