Listen to article \u2022\u00a00:00 min<\/p>\n
Armed with a vintage camera, the photojournalist John Pendygraft spent several weeks approaching people along Main Street in Darby, Pa., to ask if they\u2019d like to collaborate on creating a photograph. Specifically, he asked if they wanted to create a tintype, a photographic process invented in the 1850s. <\/p>\n
Tintypes need to be developed immediately on-site in a portable darkroom, and each one is a unique creation. It is a purely chemical process that takes time, embraces inefficiency, and is open to surprises. <\/p>\n
During the process, subjects were invited to share their stories with Pendygraft. Together, the words and photos create a complex portrait of a changing town.<\/p>\n
Main Street originated along the Great Minquas Path, and was settled by Quakers in 1682. Along the way, Main Street was a 1777 battle site, a historic foundation for the Underground Railroad, center of a boom town that busted, home to a growing African diaspora community, and ground zero to Hurricane Floyd\u2019s destruction. <\/p>\n
Through it all, Main Street in Darby has consistently been a place defined by the grit of people who call it home.<\/p>\n
The Darby Free Library is the country\u2019s oldest library in continuous operation. The library was established in 1743 by 29 Darby Quakers. It was modeled after Benjamin Franklin\u2019s Library Company of Philadelphia, which formed in 1731. The Darby library claimed the title \u201coldest library in continuous operation\u201d when Franklin\u2019s Library Company closed for repairs after a fire. The librarians who work there claim it is haunted. <\/p>\n
For 34 of its 283 years, Susan Borders has been the heart and soul of the nation\u2019s second-oldest library. She knows a nearby homeless shelter closes between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m., and makes sure the library is a welcoming place, rain, shine, or snow. <\/p>\n
\u201cI meet people who other people might be afraid of. The community needs us and we need the community.\u201d <\/p>\n
She takes a call about late fines: \u201cJust bring the books in and we\u2019ll waive the fees. I just want you to keep reading.\u201d The caller got off easy. Normally, she makes people tell her a story before she waives the late fees.<\/p>\n
She deals with a flustered dad and a grumpy toddler trying to make a letter-size print from an email attachment on an iPhone. \u201cJust try to send it and we\u2019ll see if the size is right. First one is on me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe history of this place isn\u2019t about dates. This is a living library. It is about 280-something years of days with people.\u201d<\/p>\n
Harold Finigan is untroubled by the sweat saturating his shirt or the record-breaking summer heat. He paces an open lot at 1000 Main St. with a cell phone to his ear, walking first toward the historic library, on the southwest side of the lot, and then toward the historic Darby Friends Meeting house on the north side. <\/p>\n
Finigan is supervising renovations on both. He guides his days through time-honored Quaker principles: simplicity, peace, integrity, community, equality, and stewardship. <\/p>\n
He traces his own Quaker values to 1682 \u2014 one year after King Charles II granted William Penn a charter for the land that would become Pennsylvania. That year, the Darby Quaker meeting was established along the Great Minquas Path by John Blunston as a foundation for Penn\u2019s \u201choly experiment\u201d \u2014 a country unified by a commitment to freedom of religion, equality, and democratic government.<\/p>\n
As Bernard Freeman, assistant foreman for Darby Borough Public Works, rides his lawnmower across the now-vacant lot at 870 Main St., he remembers when it was Woolworth. He points to the corner of the lot where the cafeteria counter used to be. \u201cMain Street back then was bustling. We had jewelry stores, hardware stores, shoe stores. You didn\u2019t have to go to the mall for nothing. Christmas time? You did all your shopping here. Everything was right here in Darby. You could get everything you needed. Everything. Man, it was bustling. But now? People don\u2019t do the small towns anymore. At least, not here.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a huge Christmas parade, a Memorial Day parade with a tank kids could climb on, a parade to open Little League season, and a parade for the high school homecoming football game.<\/p>\n
\u201cLast parade I can remember must have been 15, 20 years ago?\u201d<\/p>\n
Freeman has five children, born between 1987 and 2006. Only the child born in 1987 had the opportunity to play Little League, PAL football, or was able to join a swim club. Local organizations dried up in the \u201990s.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe didn\u2019t have the volunteers and parent participation. Recreation-wise, we didn\u2019t have anything anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
And then Floyd hit. The storm took one life, impacted 330 homes and 59 businesses. Many of the businesses never reopened. Scores of properties were purchased by the government, who relocated families and leveled homes. <\/p>\n
Freeman was hired by the city as part of the cleanup. The job, which he still holds today, hit home. \u201cI have aunts, uncles, sisters, cousins, all kinds of family here. 10th Street is named after my uncle, Marine Lt. General Ronald S. Coleman.\u201d<\/p>\n
This is his hometown, come what may. \u201cIf you can make it here you can make it anywhere. Darby makes you tough. It\u2019s a no-nonsense type of town.\u201d<\/p>\n
James Vani, 71, who is also with Darby Borough Public Works, fled Liberia\u2019s civil war with his wife in 2002. They joined his parents in Florida. \u201cMy wife went to nursing school. She graduated and everything, but she couldn\u2019t find a job. She tried to find a job in Florida, but she couldn\u2019t because of our accent,\u201d Vani explains. \u201cA friend of my wife was here [in Darby] and she said \u2018Come over here. You will be able to find a job because there are a lot of Africans here.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
There are. According to Data USA, 20% of Darby Township is foreign-born, and 79% of that population comes from Africa. If you drive down Darby\u2019s Main Street a short distance to the Philadelphia city line, the road turns into Africatown<\/a>. The organization website touts the area as \u201cthe premier destination for the global African Diaspora, celebrating arts, culture, and business.\u201d<\/p>\n As soon as Vani\u2019s wife got a job, she called her husband to join her. \u201cI\u2019m lucky,\u201d he says. \u201cI have a job in Darby and I live in Darby. Thanks be to God.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlmost nobody from my generation is going to be able to buy a house,\u201d laments Machi Hall, 17. His family moved to Darby two years ago from West Philly because \u201cthe crime here is lower and the houses are cheaper.\u201d <\/p>\n Hall worries about AI replacing jobs, a future that might soon spin out of human control, and the possibility that current conflicts will escalate into a global war. He dreams of a career in 3D film animation, but what if AI takes those jobs? <\/p>\n He has also made plans to enroll in a four-year electrical contractor apprenticeship program, with an eye to joining a union. \u201cI won\u2019t get rich, but it will put food on the table,\u201d he says. <\/p>\n Jan and John Haigis, who jokingly describe themselves as \u201cvaguely Victorian,\u201d pose in front of their home at 1006 Main St. The home was once owned by Passmore Williamson, who, along with \u201cFather of the Underground Railroad\u201d William Still, was jailed in 1855 for helping Jane Johnson and her two sons escape slavery.<\/p>\n Early on in any conversation with the couple, you will very likely hear about at least one of their two quirky obsessions. They will either sing a duet of one of the hundreds of songs they have written together (\u201cI can always make a harmony,\u201d Jan explains. \u201cI don\u2019t know what key he is going to be in, but we never stop singing.\u201d) or they will dive into the minutiae of Darby history. <\/p>\n Their shared love of Darby history began in 1985 when John rode his bicycle past the Blue Bell Inn, a crumbling tavern at the very end of Main Street. He didn\u2019t know that it was once frequented by George Washington, housed troops during the American Revolution, or was the site of an epic battle in 1777 led by Lord Cornwallis and 2,500 soldiers. But he was curious.<\/p>\n The couple learned the Blue Bell was on a list to be destroyed and approached the city about saving the inn.<\/p>\n \u201cThe city council told us \u2018it would cost money to tear it down, so let\u2019s see what they can do,\u2019\u201d John explains. They leased it to the couple for $1 a year.<\/p>\n A small grant allowed Jan and John to replace doors and windows and find a caretaker. The couple created Friends of the Blue Bell. The group of new friends became a kind of family.<\/p>\n They leased the inn from 1985 until 1999 and did what they could. Then Hurricane Floyd hit and flooded the interior. Today, the city maintains the exterior and the Haigises curate a website <\/a>to preserve Darby history.<\/p>\n In 1990, Artan Sulollari was serving in the Albanian army. One day, they brought him in for questioning. At the time, he had no idea that one of his brothers had fled the communist country. <\/p>\n \u201cThey beat me up very good, to tell them what I knew. I didn\u2019t know anything,\u201d he says. He still suffers from hearing loss as a result of his injuries. <\/p>\n \u201cIt was a crazy life there. The communism was the worst communism. They would say \u2018this guy does propaganda, this guy is a spy.\u2019 They would arrest you. They\u2019d beat you. They put you in jail. They\u2019d take your family. They\u2019d incarcerate you far, far away.\u201d<\/p>\n