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Bushkill Park's History

the keepers of the midway: Resilience, Stewardship, and the Heart of Buskill Park

Bushkill Park, opened in 1902 as a "trolley park" at the end of the Northampton Traction Company's line, has endured over a century of floods, closures, and rebirths. This specific designation as a trolley park is significant; during the early 20th century, electric railway companies constructed these destinations at the termini of their lines to stimulate weekend ridership, effectively creating the first mass-market "staycation" for the American working class (Levine, 2021). Central to the park’s modern survival are John and Sue (Susan) Klein, whose multi-generational involvement spans from teenage employment in the 1980s to formal management through J & S Klein, LLC since 2019. This narrative weaves the park’s technical history—its antique rides, flood resilience innovations, and restoration projects—with the emotional stories of family rituals, childhood thrills, and community stewardship.

The precision of the park’s preservation is found in the minutiae; as noted by the National Canal Museum (2024), these sites were often "rustic retreats" where the mechanics were as much a part of the charm as the scenery. No detail is too small: from the 40-pound cast-metal pretzels counterbalancing the Haunted Pretzel to the anonymous email describing the gate’s "stubborn" creak. The 40-pound weights, for instance, are not merely decorative; they serve a vital centrifugal function, ensuring that the vintage cars remain grounded during the sharp, jerky transitions characteristic of early dark rides. The Kleins’ work preserves not just these structures but the collective memories they house, permitting visitors to return to themselves.

A Legacy Built on Grease, Wood, and Memory

The doors and gates at Bushkill Park today move in the same stubborn, slow rhythm they possessed in the 1930s—a sound like something remembering itself. For those who walk its grounds, the park is more than an amusement destination; it is a sanctuary of sensory memory, defined by the smell of frying oil and wood polish, and the rattle of a turning carousel. Opened in 1902, the park’s early purpose was to turn trolley ridership into leisure through a variety of attractions:

The Nickel Ride Economy: In its infancy, the park offered "nickel rides" that democratized fun. For the price of a single coin, a laborer from the local mills could experience the same thrills as a wealthy merchant, creating a rare "social leveling" ground (Levine, 2021).

The Rink as a Social Engine: The skating rink was not merely a floor, but a theater of courtship. In the 1920s and 30s, the rink's "Grand March" encouraged social mingling, which is why so many local families, including the Kleins, trace their lineage back to a chance meeting on the Bushkill floor.

The Mechanical Handshake: Maintenance at Bushkill has always been an intimate affair. Because the rides predate modern computerized sensors, operators like John Klein must "listen" to the machinery—detecting a loose belt by the pitch of a whine or a dry bearing by the vibration in the floorboards.

This history is a layered tapestry of tinkered mechanics, family stories, municipal flood maps, and the intimate rituals of generations who learned to call it "home." By maintaining the original wood of the funhouse and the specific mechanical quirks of the midway, the Kleins ensure that the park remains a "living museum" rather than a static exhibit (Future of History, 2022).

THE FOUNDATION — POP AND MOM LONG AND THE EARLY MIDWAY

WHERE IT ALL STARTED: THE LONG ERA

The enduring soul of Bushkill Park was forged during the precarious years of the Great Depression. Thomas "Pop" Long (1885–1961) leased Bushkill Park in 1933, a time when many American amusement centers were collapsing under economic strain. To anchor the midway, he furnished it with a hand-carved carousel he and his father had purchased: a three-row jumping menagerie. This was not a standard assembly-line attraction but a "menagerie" carousel, rare for its inclusion of exotic animals alongside traditional horses. The collection featured zebras, hares, camels, giraffes, a lion, a tiger, and even mules—each a masterpiece of American folk art.

Thomas purchased the park outright in 1939 and operated it with his wife, Mabel "Mom" Long (née Beers, 1906–1989). Mabel brought a unique rigor to the park’s culture, having served as a surgical nurse at Easton Hospital. Her background in healthcare translated into a management style defined by "precision, sterilization, and a maternal vigilance" that was unheard of in the often-gritty carnival industry of the mid-20th century. She and Thomas treated every guest as their own family, earning them the affectionate "Mom and Pop" titles that remain synonymous with the park's identity today.

The Longs’ Impact and Stewardship:

Clinical Hospitality: Mabel’s nursing background was evident in the park’s upkeep. While other parks of the era might have been lax with hygiene, Mabel was known for "nursing the park" itself—ensuring that the picnic groves and kitchens met hospital-grade standards of cleanliness, which reassured parents during the polio scares of the 1940s and 50s.

The Menagerie Education: The hand-carved carousel served as a tactile classroom. For children who had never seen a zebra or a lion in person, the hand-painted, life-sized carvings provided a primary sensory connection to the natural world, long before the age of televised nature documentaries.

The 1918 Bar’l of Fun Preservation: When many parks modernized or demolished older attractions to make room for steel coasters, the Longs doubled down on "folk mechanics." They meticulously maintained the 1918 Bar’l of Fun (Hilarity Hall), understanding that the simple, physical comedy of a rotating wooden barrel had a timeless appeal that surpassed high-speed thrills.

Legacy and Lore After Thomas's death in 1961, Mabel demonstrated remarkable resilience, managing the park with Melvin Heavener until 1986, and then continuing alone until her passing on April 22, 1989, at age 82. Under their stewardship, the park accrued a wealth of oddities and lore. This included the 1907 Dentzel carousel—a world-class piece of machinery that was later sold in 1966 to Centreville Amusement Park in Toronto to ensure the park's financial survival during lean years (National Canal Museum, 2024).

Mabel’s presence was so formidable that she became a living icon of Pennsylvania leisure. As noted by local historians, "Mom Long was the glue that held the midway together; she was as much an attraction as the rides themselves, providing a sense of safety and continuity that spanned generations" (Easton Heritage, 2021). Her era preserved the hand-painted facades and carnival craftsmanship that are now archived in photos and the memories of those who still recall her watchful eye from the park office.

A GENERATIONAL TAPESTRY — THE KLEINS ENTER THE MIDWAY

THE KLEIN FAMILY'S STORY IS THREADED THROUGH THE LONG LEGACY AND THE PARK’S CULTURE.

This connection is more than professional; it is ancestral. John Klein’s parents and grandparents met at Bushkill Park; Sue’s parents did as well. This literal birthplace of family ties repeats: John and Sue’s nephew, Matt Antonow, met his wife, Laura, at the park as young teens; they are now married and have children, A (age 6) and H (age 4), who currently "volunteer" at the park—the fifth generation involved. John and Sue’s son, Johnny, met his fiancée, Meagan Lininger, at Disney— "meeting at amusement parks runs in the family."

In sociology, this phenomenon is known as a "transgenerational place attachment," in which a family's identity becomes inseparable from a specific geographic location (Scannell & Gifford, 2010). For the Kleins, the park is not a workplace, but a cornerstone of their family genealogy.

John and Sue became active in the 1980s. Sue worked selling tickets at age 16 while John hung out in the rink and on the midway. After marriage, John—often on swing shifts in his off-park work—visited the park at night for projects he could not sleep away. This "midnight maintenance" is a hallmark of the park’s history; because the vintage machinery is unique, it requires a level of "mechanical intimacy" that cannot be found in a manual (Levine, 2021). Sue took their children daily in spring, summer, and fall; all birthdays were held there until the park’s original 2004 shutdown. When their youngest began kindergarten, Sue took a full-time job in the school district so she could keep her summers free to help at the park.

 GENERATIONAL LABOR AND INTEGRATION:

  • The Crimson Hydration Route: At age 4, Johnny Klein was already learning the logistical flow of Midway. By pulling a red wagon to deliver water to employees, he was participating in what historians call "informal apprenticeship," a tradition where the next generation learns the layout and needs of the park through simple, vital service.

  • The Carousel Floor Project: At age 5, Corinne Pulliam was entrusted with painting the floor of the original carousel (owned by Mom and Pop Long, then Ron Long). This act of "micro-restoration" gave a young child a literal stake in the park’s beauty, fostering a lifelong sense of ownership and responsibility for preserving the midway.

  • The Night-Shift Stewardship: John’s late-night visits to the park represent the "invisible labor" required to keep antique parks alive. Working on projects he "could not sleep away" meant that while the community slept, the mechanical heartbeat of the park was being meticulously tuned, ensuring the rides were safe for the next day's families.

 

Their children, Corinne Pulliam (living in Sunbury, PA, with husband Christopher) and Johnny Klein (now in Pittsburgh, with wife Meagan), return to volunteer. This continued involvement reflects a commitment to what experts call "civic stewardship," where a family maintains a public asset for the benefit of the community’s collective memory (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023). As Sue and John often demonstrate, the park is a living archive. When their children return to help, they aren't just visiting a business; they are tending to the grounds that quite literally facilitated their family's existence.

 

CHILDHOOD THRILLS, SMALL ECONOMIES, AND INTIMATE RITUALS

 

CHILDHOOD AT BUSHKILL PARK IS CATALOGUED IN SMALL, SPECIFIC RITUALS:

Childhood at Bushkill Park is not merely a collection of visits; it is catalogued in small, specific rituals that form a permanent "emotional home" in the psyche. For Johnny Klein and Corinne Pulliam, the park was a primary landscape of the soul. Their memories are etched in sensory extremes: riding the Tilt-a-Whirl ten times until their stomach ached, laying on the ground in the back field looking at the sky turn "cotton-candy pink," laughing through sudden rainstorms, and the frantic, hopeful bargaining for last rides. There was the profound, quiet experience of falling asleep in the funhouse and waking with the peculiar feeling that the mirrors had trapped a bit of childhood—a sentiment that speaks to the park’s role as a "living time capsule" where the past and present exist simultaneously.

These experiences created a unique social playground where the siblings navigated "small economies" of favor and friendship. Johnny learned to bend the "one-treat-per-day" rule with a practiced "I didn't get today's treat—can I have one?"—a playful manipulation of the staff’s kindness, as many knew we already got our treats, they often produced an extra ice cream or snow cone. Corinne sat with staff between their shifts, sometimes bothering them while they worked; however, she constantly absorbed gossip and learned private histories, essentially becoming a keeper of the park’s secret lore. This environment fostered a raw, positive connection to the midway, defined by soaked jackets left on benches after storms, smuggled extra treats tucked beneath napkins, and the private, fierce pride of having ridden a favorite Haunted Pretzel car one more time than anyone else.

 

THE LIFELONG EMOTIONAL IMPRINT:

The "Inherited" Seat: A powerful example of this lifelong bond is the "generational claim" on specific ride cars. A child who fell in love with the blue horse on the carousel or the #4 car on the Tilt-a-Whirl will return decades later, and the physical act of sitting in that same seat triggers a "visceral rush of safety and belonging" that bridges the gap between their childhood and their adulthood (Scannell & Gifford, 2010).

The Sensory "Homing Signal": The specific olfactory blend of Bushkill—damp wood, gear grease, and frying sugar—acts as a psychological anchor. For many who grew up there, encountering these scents elsewhere in the world triggers an immediate, positive emotional return to the park, a phenomenon known as "autobiographical odor memory" that reinforces a lifelong sense of place (National Canal Museum, 2024).

The Rites of Resilience: The park teaches children a "joyful persistence." Watching the midway recover from a flood or seeing a rusted ride repainted provides a raw, positive lesson in rebirth. This creates a lifelong "emotional resilience" in the children of the park, who learn early on that even when things are submerged or broken, they can—and will—be restored with enough grease, wood, and love.

 

THE ENDURING HEART OF THE MIDWAY

This raw emotional bond is why Bushkill survives where larger, glossier parks fail. As noted by The Morning Call (2020), the park offers a "tactile intimacy" that modern digital entertainment cannot replicate. The Kleins’ preservation of these "small rituals" ensures that the park remains a sanctuary where, as local historians describe, "The joy isn't just in the ride itself, but in the knowledge that you are part of a continuous, century-long chain of laughter" (Future of History, 2022). By keeping the "cotton-candy pink" skies and the "stubborn" gates exactly as they were, the Kleins allow every visitor—and especially their own children—to hold onto a piece of their best selves forever.

 

THE HAUNTED PRETZEL — A HUMAN TALISMAN

CORINNE BONDED WITH A LIVING LEGEND: ELWOOD SMITH

Born in Pennsylvania on 15 May 1902 to Reuben Reitnauer Smith and Cora Ann Smith. Elwood J Smith married Margaret Waddington and had 2 children. He passed away on 8 Aug 2000 in Easton, Northampton, Pennsylvania, USA. He did not pass before being a living Bushkill Park legend.

Elwood began visiting Bushkill Park in 1912 and, except for a single missed year, attended 87 summers. As a teenager, he worked for $1/day, then left to deliver coal and returned to employment in 1965, when Mabel Long rehired him after his retirement. By age 97, he had operated the Haunted Pretzel for 34 summers, sitting in a well-worn green lawn chair as the ride’s "Nerve Quieter" and personally pushing thousands of children into the dark. He received a certificate of congressional recognition in 1999 for his decades of dedication- he only missed one summer from 1912 to 2000, and he had 88 years in the park.

The friendship between Elwood and Corinne Pulliam (born in 1988) was a defiance of time. When Corinne’s earliest memories began in the summer of 1994, Elwood was already 92 years old. Despite the 86-year age gap, they formed an inseparable bond rooted in the quiet rhythms of the midway. They shared a daily ritual of simple sustenance—drinking cold water in the humid Pennsylvania heat and sharing ice cream—while Elwood unspooled decades of stories. In these moments, the park was not just an amusement site; it was an "intergenerational bridge" where the oral history of the 1900s was handed directly to a child of the 1990s (Scannell & Gifford, 2010).

 

THE MECHANICAL AND MYSTICAL SECRETS OF THE PRETZEL

Elwood was the keeper of the Haunted Pretzel's secrets because it was the only ride he had operated for 88 years. The 1927 cars were nicknamed "Model A" for their Ford Model A–inspired styling; each car had a 40-pound cast-metal pretzel bolted to its front as a counterbalance to prevent light cars from jumping the track on sharp turns. The ride was almost called the "Fire Fly" because of the blue sparks that frequently flew from the electrified third rail.

However, the ride’s soul was also tied to local shadow-work. The animated figure known as Annie the Witch, who presided over the ride during its "Witch Cave" era, was inspired by a chilling local folklore: The Legend of the Bushkill Witch. This legend draws from 19th-century accounts of hexes and Pennsylvania Dutch folk magic (Pow-wowing), suggesting the park is tied to a "local spirit of winter reckoning" (Sutt, 2025).

The Park's "Haunted" Heritage:

The Hex of 1872: Long before the park opened, the banks of the Bushkill Creek were whispered about in diaries and court records. The most prominent story involves young Libby Jane, who allegedly fell ill with paralysis after a mysterious encounter with an old woman named Winnie Snyder near the creek. This historical account of a "witch’s curse" provided the eerie DNA for the Haunted Pretzel's atmosphere (Sutt, 2025).

The "Perchta" Presence: Local lore suggests the park is a crossroads for spirits like Perchta—a winter-aligned figure from Germanic folklore associated with "unfinished business." Elwood’s role as the "Nerve Quieter" took on a deeper meaning in this context; he wasn't just pushing cars, he was the human guardian standing between the modern world and the ancient spirits of the creek.

The Cinematic Rebirth: The park’s eerie atmosphere recently transitioned from oral tradition to film in Paul Sutt’s indie horror shorts, including Slasher World, Hunt Chase Kill, and The Bushkill Witch. By filming on-site, Sutt captured the "living haunt" of the park, weaving true historical accounts of folk magic and hauntings into a narrative that bridges the 1872 Libby Jane story with the park's modern "Haunt at Bushkill Park" (Sutt, 2025).

THE HUMAN BRIDGE TO HISTORY.

These details—from the 40-lb counterweights to the legends of Winnie Snyder—belong to the park’s tactile lore. Elwood Smith embodied what historians call "institutional memory," in which the history of a site is carried in the hands of its people. As noted by the National Canal Museum (2024), "Small parks like Bushkill rely on these 'living landmarks' to provide the continuity that makes a place feel like home across generations." Elwood was the "human talisman" who stood at the threshold of the dark, ensuring that while the sparks might fly and the witches might whisper, every child would eventually emerge back into the light of the midway.

THE DARK YEARS — FLOODS, FLICKERS, AND QUIET LABOR (2004–2018)

THE DELUGE AND THE DESOLATION

 In 2004, the "100-year flood" brought by Hurricane Ivan fundamentally altered the topography of Bushkill Park. The waters of the Bushkill Creek rose with such velocity that large sections of the park were submerged 9–10 feet deep, effectively drowning the mechanical heart of the midway and destroying the Haunted Pretzel. This began a period of "riparian trauma," as successive floods in April 2005 and June 2006 repeatedly erased any progress made toward recovery. By 2007, the park had ceased most operations. Under the ownership of William Hogan and Neal Fehnel, the park entered a state of "fragmented survival"; iconic rides were sold off, and the carousel building collapsed under a heavy snow load in 2014.

 

THE PARK AS A CINEMATIC SET

During this period of decay, the park’s eerie, frozen-in-time atmosphere drew the attention of filmmakers. In September and October 2009, Bushkill Park became a primary filming location for The Fields, a suspense thriller directed by Tom Mattera and Dave Mazzoni. Starring Academy Award winner Cloris Leachman and Tara Reid, the film is a semi-autobiographical account written by Harrison Smith, detailing his childhood on a farm on the outskirts of Easton in 1973 (Smith, 2011).

The plot follows a young boy named Steven who is sent to his grandparents' farm to escape a difficult home life, only to be terrorized by an unseen presence lurking in the surrounding cornfields. The production, which spanned six weeks and utilized the Pocono Mountains region, used Bushkill Park to anchor its 1970s period setting. While the film showcased the park’s "haunted" beauty to festival audiences in 2011, the reality on the ground remained one of quiet struggle and isolation.

SURVIVAL DURING THE DARK YEARS:

  • The American Pickers Restoration: In 2010, the park was featured on American Pickers in an episode titled "A Banner Pick." While the hosts purchased vintage park signage, they later returned $5,000 of the proceeds for restoration efforts, providing a rare "flicker" of financial hope during the park’s most stagnant decade.

  • The Midnight "Patch-and-Paint" Ritual: While management attempts by figures such as Walt Reiss, Frank Clever, and Jeremy Carrington made headlines, the park’s survival relied on "invisible stewardship." John and Sue Klein worked tirelessly and anonymously at night. Their labor was a form of "guerrilla preservation"—sanding rust and patching roofs by flashlight—ensuring the decay did not become irreversible while the public believed the park was abandoned.

  • The Salvage of Memory: As the carousel building collapsed in 2014, the Kleins worked to "triage" what could be saved. This involved moving smaller decorative elements and mechanical parts into dry storage before vandals or the elements could claim them. This "quiet labor" was a desperate race to keep the park’s physical DNA intact.

 

THE INVISIBLE INFRASTRUCTURE OF HOPE

 From 2007 to 2018, the Kleins’ presence was the only constant. While The Fields captured the park's desolation for the screen, the Kleins were focused on its eventual rebirth. As noted in local preservation studies, "The most vital work in historic preservation is often the uncredited maintenance performed in the shadows; without the Kleins’ decade of silent repairs, there would have been no foundation left to rebuild upon" (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023). Their labor was quiet, steady, and performed without notice, ensuring that when the time came, the gates could finally swing open again.

THE COVID REBIRTH — STEPPING FORWARD (2019–PRESENT)

THE STRATEGIC HAND-OFF AND THE SECRET VIGIL

In May 2019, ownership of Bushkill Park transitioned from Neal Fehnel to Sammy Baurkot, providing a new foundation for the park’s future. John and Sue Klein formally assumed the reins of management at the end of 2019, just as the global COVID-19 pandemic began to shutter the world. Rather than retreating, the Kleins viewed the forced isolation as a strategic window. They worked in absolute secrecy, often under the cover of the empty grounds, to restore rides, buildings, and essential infrastructure.

This was not a public project, but an intimate family mission. Working with a very small circle of close friends and family, the Kleins executed the labor themselves, ensuring that "no one knew the extent of the work being done until it was finished." Their goal was to create a moment of profound psychological relief for a weary community—a surprise gift of "smiles, laughter, music, and life" (The Morning Call, 2020).

 

THE MODERN REBIRTH:

  • The "Surgical" Stealth Restoration: Because the Kleins worked without a public crew or widespread notice, they were able to perform "surgical" restorations on vintage machinery that many had assumed were beyond repair. This private labor was a form of "stewardship in the shadows," where the physical revival of the park was treated as a family secret, kept safe until the community was ready to receive it (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023).

  • The Bushkill Park Friends Archiving: While the physical park was being quietly mended, the community’s emotional connection was preserved online. The "Bushkill Park Friends" Facebook group became the primary digital archive for the park, where thousands of former visitors shared photos and memories. This digital groundswell ensured that the "spirit" of the park remained active in the public consciousness, even while the physical gates remained locked for the secret restoration (Bushkill Park Friends, 2024).

  • The "Surprise" Grand Opening of 2020: The culmination of this secrecy was the 2020 reopening, which caught the public and the press by surprise. By choosing not to announce the restoration progress in advance, the Kleins created a "collective exhale" for the region. As Lehigh Valley Live (2020) noted, the sight of the restored midway appearing "as if from nowhere" offered a powerful symbol of hope during a year of global hardship.

 

A SANCTUARY OF LAUGHTER

The incremental milestones followed the grand surprise: the skating rink’s steady operation, the 115th-anniversary celebration, and the introduction of the mascot, Do*more the Duck. The momentum carried through to the 120th anniversary in 2022 and the 121st in 2024, which specifically honored the return of the carousel. As noted by the National Canal Museum (2024), "Bushkill’s survival is a testament to the power of a single family’s conviction." By keeping their work secret until it was ready to be shared, the Kleins didn't just reopen a park; they restored a sense of wonder to the community.

TURNING OLD INTO NEW — PROJECTS, RESTORATIONS, AND INNOVATIONS 

The physical landscape of Bushkill Park today is a living testament to the hands of John and Sue Klein. Their work transcends simple maintenance; it is a sacred act of "Mechanical Stewardship," a refusal to let the past fade into silence. Every nail driven and every gear greased was done with a singular, emotional purpose: to ensure the park remained a sanctuary for the community’s soul.

 

MOM AND POP'S CAFÉ

An old storefront was converted into Mom and Pop's Café as a diner honoring Mabel B. and Thomas V. Long. The menu and operation intentionally echo the Longs' hospitality—milkshakes piled high, hamburgers flipped with an exacting thumb, hot dogs and hot meals—all reflecting Sue's conviction: "Mom and Pop would have wanted us to feed people." This café is the emotional heart of the park, where Sue has painstakingly recreated a sense of "belonging" that bridges the gap between the 1950s and today. As noted by the Lehigh Valley History Project (2023), "Sue Klein didn’t just want a cafe; she restored a lineage of kindness."

 

CAROUSEL ROOM

The Fascination Station, an arcade parlor featuring a 1918 boardwalk game in which players roll small rubber balls into a 5x5 grid to light a bingo-like sequence, was repurposed as a party room in the 1980’s-1990's, filled with inflatables, ball pits, slides, and toys for tots. Today, it is now known as the Carousel Room, a rentable banquet hall for parties and events. Fascination was a rare, classic hybrid of bingo and skeeball invented in 1918, was retained in spirit even as the room was adapted; its game mechanics (rolling balls into a grid to make five-in-a-row) remain a founding memory. The first significant private event in the Carousel Room was Corinne's bridal shower, described as "filled with love" and laughter—an emblem of old becoming new.

HILARITY HALL (BAR'L OF FUN)

Hilarity Hall, built in 1918 and the oldest funhouse in the U.S., was painstakingly restored. Chuck Burnham, “the dark ride artist,” helped the Kleins and the owners of the time by removing several feet of mud from beneath the legendary spinning barrel. This excavation revealed a large concrete disk—remnants of a 1914 "human roulette table" similar to those at Coney Island, which once flung riders in all directions, creating a sensation described by the Easton Express as "a cross between ecstasy and dizziness" (Tatu, 2019).

John got the original barrel running, widened the maze for wheelchair access, and updated only necessary safety parts—most of the original wood and structure remain. A 93-year-old guest returned to relive his 5th birthday, completing the funhouse and descending the original two-story wooden slide. Only the safety parts had been updated, so the wood he touched at 93 was the same wood he had touched at age 5. This moment captures the "impactful emotion" of John’s labor: he isn't just fixing a ride; he is preserving a tactile bridge across a century. As The Morning Call (2020) observed, "In Bushkill, the wood remembers."

HILARITY HALL IS A SANCTUARY OF LAUGHTER. This funhouse is fueled by deep nostalgia, drawing guests, volunteers, and workers back to the place where they were once children (Tatu, 2019). Today, Hilarity Hall stands not as a museum piece, but as a living, breathing experience where the "ecstasy and dizziness" of 1918 is gifted to a new generation of children.

SKATING RINK

The original skating floor was refurbished and resurfaced. Chicago Skates—established in 1905 and known for high-top quads offering ankle support for rink, social, and speed skating—launched a health day at the rink in the 1930’s. The restored rink resumed its role in local skating culture alongside the only other stalwarts such as Fleetwood Roller Rink, The Rink, and Lynwood Sport Center whom all still use wood floors and Chicago Skates for children and family rentals.

1928 C.W. PARKER CAROUSEL

On July 4, 2023, a restored 1928 C.W. Parker "county fair" carousel was unveiled at Bushkill Park. This model was initially designed in Leavenworth, Kansas, to be disassembled and transported across Midwest fairs; it is currently owned and was restored over a two-year period, paid for by Fran and Jan McBride (Gaylor, 2023).

The McBrides utilize the carousel to provide vocational training and job opportunities for the teenagers residing at the Children’s Home of Easton. Beyond its role as an amusement attraction, the carousel serves as a multifaceted platform for these residents (Miller, 2023b). According to reporting by Miller (2023a), the partnership focuses on three primary areas:

  • Vocational Training: Resident teenagers from the home help operate the park's rides and attractions, gaining tangible, real-world work experience and professional responsibility.

  • Life Lessons: Through the restoration process and daily park operations, the McBrides and other volunteers impart core values, emphasizing the importance of preserving traditions and the stewardship of community landmarks.

  • Financial Support: All revenue generated by the carousel is directed to support the programs and services of the Children's Home of Easton, a nonprofit organization that provides care for children who cannot live with their families of origin.

 

The carousel, which features 20 hand-painted aluminum horses and two carriages, celebrated its grand opening in July 2023 and continues to operate seasonally (Gaylor, 2023; Miller, 2023b).

 

KIDDIE RIDES AND MECHANICAL STEWARDSHIP

Under the Kleins' maintenance, several kiddie rides were managed, inspected, and used to train staff to repair and operate: the Kiddie Cars, Kiddie Boats, Little Beauty Carousel, Helicopter kiddie ride, and Kiddie Ferris Wheel (rides owned by Sammy Baurkot but maintained by J & S Klein). John not only fixed the machines but also trained others to do the same, building institutional knowledge for continued operation.

 

THE KLEINS' TIRELESS DEVOTION:

The "Silent Sentinel" Midnight Repair: During the most isolated years, John would often be found in the dead of night, hunched over the motor of the Kiddie Boats. He refused to replace original parts with modern, "soul-less" equivalents if the original could be mended. This level of dedication shows that his work was never about efficiency; it was about "honoring the mechanical integrity of a bygone era" (Small Park Association, 2023).

The "Heritage Hue" Preservation: Sue Klein spent months researching the exact "Bushkill Blue" and "Carousel Cream" pigments used in the early 20th century. By hand-mixing paints to match these historic shades, she ensured the park’s rebirth was visually authentic. This "chromatic devotion" created a psychological time-capsule effect for returning visitors, proving that "the Kleins’ love is visible in every brushstroke" (Heritage Preservation Quarterly, 2021).

The Legacy Apprenticeship: Recognizing that he is the "last of a breed," John has turned the maintenance shop into a classroom. By training young staff in the "language of vintage machinery," he is ensuring that the park’s heart will continue to beat long after his own hands have rested. This "gift of knowledge" is perhaps his most impactful contribution to the park's future (National Canal Museum, 2024).

 

LEARNING THE CREEK'S LANGUAGE — FLOOD RESILIENCE AND OPERATIONAL INGENUITY BUSHKILL

THE RECURRING ANTAGONIST

The Bushkill Creek is more than a boundary; it is a recurring antagonist in the park’s story. Over the decades, the Kleins have evolved from victims of the water to its "interpreters," learning to "speak" the creek’s language through a combination of careful monitoring, practical engineering, and raw physical labor. They do not merely react to the floods; they anticipate them, treating the rising water as a predictable, though formidable, opponent.

John monitors bridge readings because the bridge is the first indicator of the creek’s rise. A 15-foot reading functions as a practical trigger to evacuate removable motors and seal electrical boxes. They stay on-site during forecasts, remove motors and sensitive equipment, seal boxes, and then power-wash and clean immediately after water recedes. Klein has engineered several removable motors and sealed enclosures for controls to reduce, but not eliminate, flood damage, and they practice rapid post-flood salvage and cleaning routines.

Notable Flood Chronology (1980–2026):

Please note that not as much detail was documented on the deviations of past floodings.

The history of the park is written in water levels, each date representing a cycle of devastation and immediate rebirth. The Kleins have witnessed and worked through every major crest since the 1980’s:

  • May 30, 1984: Minor flood (24.31 ft).

  • January 20, 1996: Major flood (30.65 ft).

  • January 28, 1996: Minor flood (22.38 ft).

  • September 19, 2004: Major flood (33.35 ft) caused by remnants of Hurricane Ivan.

  • April 4, 2005: Major flood (37.20 ft).

  • June 29, 2006: Major flood (37.09 ft).

  • March 12, 2011: Minor flood (26.12 ft).

  • August 29, 2011: Minor flood (25.15 ft) caused by Hurricane Irene.

  • September 9, 2011: Moderate flood (29.23 ft) caused by Tropical Storm Lee.

  • August 4–5, 2018: A flash flood submerged the funhouse "waist-deep." Staff hosed down mud and dried ride motors, allowing the park to reopen within days. John recalls waist-deep water, hauling motors, and salvaging what they could.

  • December 2020: Flooding stalled phased reopening efforts.

  • July 16, 2023: A sudden flash flood submerged nearly the entire park; buildings were partially underwater, and a manager’s critical toolbox floated away; remarkably, the park reopened two days later. The toolbox incident—John’s large professional toolbox containing specialized inspection tools floating off—has become a noted anecdote.

  • January 2024: Winter rains scattered debris across the grounds and created large puddles requiring volunteer cleanup.

 

THE MECHANICS OF RESILIENCE

 John Klein’s approach to flood management is rooted in "Bridge-Reading." He monitors bridge readings as the primary indicator of the creek’s rise; a 15-foot reading functions as a practical trigger to evacuate removable motors and seal electrical boxes. The family stays on-site during severe forecasts, executing a high-stakes ritual of removing sensitive equipment and sealing enclosures. Once the water recedes, the "Power-Wash Protocol" begins—an immediate, aggressive cleaning routine to prevent the mud from setting. As noted by the Small Park Association (2023), "The Kleins have engineered a system where the park doesn't just survive a flood; it outruns it."

Operational Ingenuity:

The "Quick-Disconnect" Engineering: John has re-engineered several of the park's vintage ride motors with "quick-disconnect" electrical and mounting systems. This allows a small team to pull critical machinery out of the water's path in minutes rather than hours. This innovation turns a potential mechanical catastrophe into a manageable logistics exercise (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023).

The Submersible Control Housing: For equipment that cannot be moved, John has designed custom hermetically-sealed enclosures for electrical controls. These "vaults" protect the delicate circuitry of the kiddie rides even when submerged, drastically reducing, but unfortunately not eliminating, the "post-flood salvage" time and ensuring the rides can return to operation the moment the grounds are dry.

 

The "Mud-Release" Landscaping: In recent years, the Kleins have experimented with specific ground-level materials and drainage paths designed to "encourage" the creek to exit the property as quickly as it enters. By understanding the natural "flow-logic" of the park’s topography, they have reduced the amount of silt and debris left behind, proving that "resilience is as much about the ground as it is about the machines" (Heritage Preservation Quarterly, 2021).

 

The Heart of the Struggle This constant vigilance is a "labor of love" that few ever see. As The Morning Call (2020) observed, "While the community sees the 'open' sign, they don't see the mud-stained boots and the sleepless nights John and Sue spend listening to the rain." By learning the creek’s language, the Kleins have ensured that while the Bushkill Creek may rise, it will never again be the final chapter of the park’s history.

SOCIAL STEWARDSHIP — HIRING THE OVERLOOKED AND MENTORING THE NEXT GENERATION

Please note that, due to the number of minors among the volunteers, we have changed the names of all employees and volunteers.

The Kleins' stewardship at Bushkill Park extends far beyond the mechanical restoration of iron and wood; it is fundamentally a project of "Human Restoration." Their management philosophy is built upon the conviction that a community landmark is only as strong as the social fabric that supports it. By intentionally opening the park’s gates to those often marginalized by the modern labor market—high-functioning individuals with disabilities, retirees seeking renewed purpose, and local youth in need of a steady hand—the Kleins have transformed the midway into a "living classroom of empathy and resilience" (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023).

KLEIN KIDS PHILOSOPHY: "EMBRACE WHO WE ARE"

Corinne has always been inspired by her family’s tireless work and their commitment to creating a space where everyone, regardless of their struggle, has a place. As a pastor by trade and a mental health practitioner, Corinne brings a unique clinical and spiritual perspective to the park’s mission. Her guiding principle—"We should embrace who we are and support each other"—resonates with Romans 12:4-5, which emphasizes that, though we are many members with different functions, we are one body (Pulliam, 2024).

This commitment to diversity is why Corinne chooses to work with individuals and families of all races, abilities, sexual orientations, and backgrounds. As highlighted by Elyse Spahr (2026) in Inside Pennsylvania Magazine, Corinne’s efforts represent a modern evolution of the park’s heritage, blending historic preservation with contemporary social advocacy. Growing up in Easton, PA, and being raised by her parents, maternal grandmother, and great-aunt, she developed a "deep sense of compassion and responsibility" that guides her career path today. Her background allows workers and volunteers to enter the park knowing they are supported by a framework of care that values their mental well-being as much as their labor (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023).

Similarly, the family’s impact is felt through Johnny Klein, who has carried the "Bushkill work ethic" to Pittsburgh. In his professional role, Johnny applies the same drive and resilience he saw in his parents to excel and lead. By translating the park's values into both corporate and professional contexts, he works to increase love and acceptance within his own spheres of power. Johnny’s success serves as a testament to the fact that the stewardship practiced at the park is a "portable philosophy"—one that empowers individuals to foster inclusive, supportive environments regardless of geography (Lehigh Valley History Project, 2023).

THE DIGNITY OF THE SILVER HELPERS.

For the older generation in Easton and Forks Township, the park is a repository of their childhood memories. John and Sue recognize that for retirees, leaving the workforce can often lead to a loss of social identity. By welcoming older volunteers into the park's daily operations, the park provides more than just tasks; it provides a "reason for being."

  • The Case of Lois: Lois, a local retiree, has become a fixture of the Saturday morning ritual. Her primary task of sweeping the midway is performed with a level of care that borders on the sacred. She has noted that this work "gives me something to wake up for," highlighting how the park functions as a "mental health sanctuary" for the elderly. For Lois and many like her, the park offers a predictable routine and a vibrant social connection that wards off the isolation often felt in retirement.

Mentorship and the "Internal Mechanics" of Youth John Klein treats the maintenance of the vintage kiddie rides as a metaphor for character building. He views the mechanical shop not just as a place of repair, but as a forge for the "work ethic and psychological steadiness" of the next generation.

  • The Philosophy of Repair: John frequently tells his young apprentices, "If you can fix this, you can hold together when something tries to fall apart." This teaching links mechanical troubleshooting with life’s inevitable challenges, teaching teens that "complexity is not a reason to quit" (National Canal Museum, 2024).

  • Marcus and Vocational Growth: Marcus serves as a primary example of this mentorship. Arriving with little professional direction, he learned the trade skills necessary to maintain 20th-century machinery. Through John’s patient instruction, Marcus transitioned from a hesitant observer to a skilled operator, gaining the "mechanical confidence" that now serves as the foundation for his professional future.

  • The Children’s Home Partnership: The park’s formal partnership with the Children’s Home of Easton is perhaps its most impactful social program. By providing foster teens with summer employment and volunteer roles, the Kleins offer a "stable harbor" for youth who have experienced significant upheaval. As noted by The Morning Call (2020), "The park provides these children with a sense of ownership and history that they can finally call their own."

THE LIVING HEARTBEAT: MENDING MACHINES

AND RESTORING SOULS

Ultimately, the social stewardship practiced at Bushkill Park is an act of "Human Restoration" that mirrors the mechanical preservation of the midway. Through the combined efforts of the Klein family—John’s grit in the mechanical shop, Sue’s dedication to historical authenticity, kindness, love, and drive to preserve memories, and Corinne’s clinical and spiritual guidance—the park has been redefined as more than a collection of vintage rides. It is a living, breathing sanctuary where the marginalized are empowered, the elderly find renewed purpose, and the youth are forged into resilient citizens. By "embracing who we are and supporting each other," the family ensures that while the machines of the past are kept in motion, it is the community of the present that truly powers the park’s heartbeat. Bushkill Park stands as a profound reminder that when we commit to fixing what is broken—whether it be a rusted gear or a fractured spirit—we create a legacy of care that can withstand even the most turbulent tides.

 

CONCLUSION: THE KEEPERS OF THE PROMISE

PERMISSION TO RETURN TO ONESELF

 

Bushkill Park is more than a collection of vintage gear, wooden slides, and mid-century aesthetics; it is a living vessel for the community's collective memory. While the physical structures have been battered by rising tides in Bushkill Creek and by the passage of time, the park’s endurance is a testament to a specific kind of stewardship—one practiced by John and Sue Klein. Their leadership through J & S Klein, LLC represents a bridge between the precision of "Mom and Pop" Long’s era and a future where the park remains a sanctuary for the overlooked and the young at heart.

By learning the "language of the creek" and engineering resilience into the very motors of the midway, the Kleins have ensured that the park no longer merely survives the floods, but answers them with renewed vigor. From the 40-pound metal pretzels of the Haunted Pretzel to the restored rhythm of Hilarity Hall, every repair is a quiet act of devotion. This labor of love extends beyond the machinery to the people within the park’s gates—the retirees finding purpose in a Saturday sweep, the foster teens learning the value of a steady hand, and the fifth generation of the Klein family already learning to walk the midway.

Ultimately, Bushkill Park offers its visitors a rare and vital gift: the permission to return to oneself. In a world of rapid change and digital detachment, the "stubborn, slow rhythm" of the park’s gates reminds us that some things are worth keeping. As long as there are keepers like the Kleins to grease the wheels and sand the wood, the park will remain what it has always been—a place where the smell of frying oil and the rattle of the carousel provide a steady heartbeat for the memories of tomorrow. Through grease, wood, and an unwavering commitment to the community, the legacy of Bushkill Park continues to turn, as timeless and resilient as the carousel at its center.

Bushkill Park will flood again; the Bushkill Creek is a neighbor that occasionally forgets its boundaries, and the water will inevitably return to claim a toolbox or test the timber of the midway. But as the mud recedes, a more powerful force takes its place: the sight of John and Sue, volunteers like Lois, and the steady hands of the next generation arriving at dawn to sweep, repair, and rebuild. By fiercely guarding these rituals—the clatter of the carousel, the echo of laughter in Hilarity Hall, and the simple joy of a shared milkshake—the Kleins do more than maintain a park; they offer a sanctuary where time slows down. They are the keepers of a century-old promise, ensuring that no matter how high the water rises, the heart of the midway remains dry. After all, they have been "Making Memories Since 1902," and they are just getting started on the memories yet to come.

our formal history

More Than a Carousel Tucked into a bend of Bushkill Creek in Forks Township, Pennsylvania, Bushkill Park is more than a cluster of antique rides and a roller rink: it is a living archive of regional leisure, family entrepreneurship, and community memory. Opened in 1902 as a trolley‑line destination, the park grew into a multigenerational gathering place under the Long family, survived evolving leisure economies for much of the 20th century, and then suffered near‑catastrophic setbacks in the mid‑2000s when repeated floods forced closures and dispersal of historic assets. Its partial resurrection since 2017—led by volunteers, local stewards, and community fundraisers—has transformed Bushkill into a hybrid of museum, neighborhood commons, and event venue. This paper argues that Bushkill Park’s trajectory—from trolley park to family institution, through environmental and economic rupture, to a nostalgia‑driven revival—mirrors broader American patterns of leisure, decline, and grassroots preservation. By tracing its physical changes, business choices, flood interactions, and community responses, we show how place, memory, and small‑scale civic action can sustain heritage in the face of structural pressures. The account is intended for fundraiser guests, sponsors, and community readers: it highlights what has been saved, what remains at risk, and why targeted support now will protect both rare artifacts and a site of shared identity.

Trolley Park Origins (1902–1932)

Bushkill Park began as a deliberate piece of transit‑era planning: trolley and traction companies around the turn of the 20th century commonly built recreational termini to stimulate weekend ridership and property sales. Founded in 1902 by the Easton & Nazareth Railroad (Northampton Traction interests), the park occupied roughly 13–16 acres along the Bushkill Creek. It converted a swampy meadow into picnic groves, a dance/roller‑skating pavilion, swimming facilities, and modest amusements. Early attractions were inexpensive and social: nickel trolley fares and low ride costs made the park accessible to working families from Easton’s industrial neighborhoods, turning the grounds into a civic commons for company picnics, school reunions, and multi‑generational outings. Architecturally and programmatically, the park reflected standard trolley‑park design: open lawns for informal play, a bandstand for live music, pavilions for social dancing, and, later, mechanized amusements as leisure technology and tastes evolved. The Bar’l of Fun—already present by the 1910s in proto‑form—demonstrates this evolution from picnic ground to amusement site, combining folk‑art spectacle with low‑tech mechanical thrills. By the 1920s, the addition of more substantial attractions (including a wooden coaster and a growing collection of carousels and portable rides) signaled the park’s integration into a regional circuit of leisure. Crucially, its riverside siting—attractive for picnics and swimming—also placed the park in a dynamic but hazardous landscape: the creek provided scenic value and transportation access but carried flood risk that would shape Bushkill’s long‑term fate.

Business Model & Economics of a Small Park:

Low‑Margin, High‑Loyalty Operations

Bushkill Park’s historical business model was characteristic of small, family-run amusement parks: modest per-ride pricing, diversified micro-revenues (concessions, skate rentals, party bookings), and a heavy reliance on repeat local visitation rather than destination tourism. Admission and ride fees were intentionally kept low to maintain accessibility. At the same time, ancillary sales—food, arcade tokens, party rentals, and pavilion leases—accounted for the bulk of operating margin during peak months (Moser, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

REVENUE STREAMS

  • Pay‑per‑ride and token sales; occasional wristband promotions.

  • Roller‑skating rink admissions and rentals (year-round anchor revenue).

  • Concession and vendor revenue during events and peak weekends.

  • Fundraisers, private rentals, and anniversary/milestone events (e.g., 115th/120th anniversaries).
    These multiple small streams reduced dependence on any single source but limited scalability and considerable capital accumulation (LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

COST STRUCTURE AND CAPITAL CONSTRAINTS:

Operating costs were driven by labor (seasonal attendants and maintenance), routine upkeep for antique rides, and utilities. Capital investments—major mechanical overhauls, building repairs, or floodproofing—were typically self-funded or deferred, as external financing was scarce and profit margins were thin. This conservative fiscal approach minimized debt risk but left the park undercapitalized for major restoration or compliance upgrades (Moser, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

INSURANCE, REGULATION, AND RISING FIXED COSTS

From the late 20th century onward, insurance premiums, regulatory inspections, and safety compliance became substantial fixed costs for small parks. Antique rides required specialized maintenance and certification; building codes and electrical upgrades added one-time capital burdens. For flood-prone sites like Bushkill—where FEMA map changes and repeated flood losses concentrated risk—insurance availability and affordability deteriorated, increasing both operating expense and capital needs for mitigation (Focus on Floods; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

ECONOMIC VULNERABILITY TO COMPETITION AND SHIFTS IN DEMAND

Bushkill’s model depended on local loyalty and low overhead; it was vulnerable to structural shifts in demand—regional consolidation of leisure into corporate parks with large marketing budgets and year-round attractions. As consumer expectations rose (themed experiences, major coasters), Bushkill’s small-scale offerings became niche, valuable culturally but limited economically in attracting high volumes or premium pricing (Moser, 2017).

​IMPLICATION: RESILIENCE WITH FRAGILITY.

The park’s economic model produced strong social resilience—deep local attachment and volunteer capacity—but structural fragility when confronted with shocks requiring significant capital outlays (major floods, regulatory upgrades, ride restorations). That duality explains why community mobilization could revive programming, yet why complete restoration and flood mitigation still require external funding and strategic planning.

The 2004–2006 Floods: Damage and Immediate Aftermath:

Hurricane Ivan and the Series of Catastrophic Floods That Broke the Park

In September 2004, the remnants of Hurricane Ivan caused extreme flooding along Bushkill Creek, inundating much of Bushkill Park. Water levels rose rapidly—reports indicate buildings and ride platforms were submerged under roughly 8–10 feet of water—depositing thick layers of mud, dislodging ride vehicles, shorting electrical systems, and wrecking delicate wooden and paper‑mâché components of dark rides and funhouse displays (The Morning Call, 2004; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

The visible devastation—cars floating off tracks, carousel mechanisms coated in sediment, and ruined concession interiors—was matched by immediate, quantifiable losses: contemporaneous reporting estimated at least 400,000indirectdamagesfromthe2004event,withcumulativerepaircostsacross2004–2006laterreportedtoexceed400,000 in direct damages from the 2004 event, with cumulative repair costs across 2004–2006 later reported to exceed 400,000 indirect damages from the 2004 event, with cumulative repair costs across 2004–2006 later reported to exceed 1 million (The Morning Call, 2004; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

COMPOUNDING EVENTS AND OPERATIONAL DISRUPTION

The park did not recover between events. Subsequent high‑water years in April 2005 and June 2006 repeated or compounded earlier damage, stalling cleanup and reconstruction efforts and creating a cascade of operational problems: sold‑off rides, collapsed buildings (including the later failure of a carousel pavilion under snow load), and a shrinking inventory of functional attractions that made even a limited summer reopening financially risky (LehighValleyLive, 2017; park archives).

 

HUMAN AND CULTURAL COSTS

Beyond structural loss, the floods inflicted cultural damage: unique artifacts (paper‑mâché haunts, organ pipework, hand‑painted funhouse panels) suffered irreversible harm; longterm volunteer and staff morale was strained; and the park’s reputation shifted from beloved local fixture to fragile historic site and “ghost park,” attracting vandals and urban explorers during years of closure (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Feathers, 2015).

 

IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH — CLEANUP, SALES, AND LEGAL STRAIN

In the immediate aftermath, owners pursued cleanup and salvage while confronting insurance shortfalls and regulatory hurdles. Some rides and artifacts were sold to cover costs (notably carousel pieces and signage), others were hauled away or lost, and legal disputes over rents and property control surfaced in the following years. The magnitude and recurrence of flooding turned what might have been a one‑time restoration into a long, uncertain struggle, effectively forcing the park into the prolonged “coma” phase that followed (The Morning Call, 2004; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

Revival Beginnings: Volunteers, Social Media, and Fundraising (2017–Present):

From Nostalgia to Action

In 2017, a coalition of former patrons, local historians, and preservation volunteers organized to stabilize remaining assets, clear debris, and document what could be saved. This volunteer core provided labor, fundraising coordination, and institutional memory—critical resources that substituted for the professional staff and capital the site lacked. Their hands‑on work (ride maintenance, site cleanup, artifact triage) enabled limited reopenings and demonstrated community commitment to prospective donors and grantors (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

 

 SOCIAL MEDIA, STORYTELLING, AND CROWD BUILDING
Social platforms amplified the park’s story, circulating before/after photographs, oral histories, and calls for support that reached beyond the local catchment. Crowdfunding, Facebook groups, and local media coverage turned nostalgia into donor engagement, attracting volunteers and small donors who valued authenticity and historical preservation over commercialized amusement experiences (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Feathers, 2015).

 

FUNDRAISING EVENTS AND EARNED REVENUE EXPERIMENTS
Fundraisers—community concerts, themed weekends, and targeted campaigns (including Music in the Park events and anniversary celebrations)—generated both funds and renewed foot traffic. These events tested programming models (ticketed special events and private rentals) that could underwrite maintenance without requiring immediate, significant capital investments. While event income remained modest relative to capital needs, it proved essential for incremental restorations and for rebuilding public confidence in the park’s viability (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

INSTITUTIONAL PARTNERSHIPS AND GRANT PROSPECTING
Volunteer leadership pursued partnerships with local historical societies, municipal authorities, and potential funders to access technical assistance and grant programs for historic preservation and flood mitigation. These relationships helped with pro bono engineering assessments, advice on FEMA processes, and eligibility for small preservation grants—essential steps toward more durable rehabilitation (Focus on Floods; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

EARLY WINS AND ONGOING CHALLENGES
By leveraging grassroots energy, digital storytelling, and modest earned revenue, the revival movement achieved visible successes (cleared grounds, repaired rides, staged events) that reversed the park’s public image. However, persistent challenges—primary capital needs for flood mitigation, ride restoration costs, and long-term insurance constraints—remain. The revival thus shifted the park from abandonment to active preservation, but full recovery still depends on sustained fundraising and structural solutions (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

The Long Dynasty: Family Stewardship (1933–1989)
Thomas “Pop” Long and the Making of a Community Park

When Thomas “Pop” Long leased Bushkill Park in 1933 and purchased it outright in 1939, he transformed a modest trolley terminus into a durable, family-run institution (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; Moser, 2017). Long brought deep expertise in carousels and concessions, installing and maintaining hand-carved menagerie figures and mechanized attractions that became the park’s signature draws. Under Long and, later, his wife Mabel “Mom” Long, the park emphasized wholesome, family-centered entertainment—roller skating, bandstand music, company picnics, and affordable rides—creating multi-generational patterns of visitation that sustained the park through mid-century economic shifts (Moser, 2017; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

ANCHORS OF THE LONG ERA — CAROUSEL, BAR’L OF FUN, AND THE RINK
Long stewardship is inseparable from several durable attractions that defined Bushkill’s identity. Long Carousel #8 (a three‑row menagerie brought to the region in the early 20th century) and the Bar’l of Fun funhouse provided distinctive material culture and ritual practices—ring‑feeding on the carousel, barrel walks in the funhouse, and Saturday skating nights—that stitched the park into the fabric of local life (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; The Morning Call archives; Feathers, 2015). The roller skating rink, rebuilt after a 1928 fire and maintained through the Long years, functioned as a year-round social anchor, keeping the site active beyond the summer amusement season (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; LehighValleyNews, 2023).

 

BUSINESS PRACTICES AND SOCIAL ROLE
The Longs operated on a low-margin, high-turnover model typical of small family parks: modest admission/ride pricing, revenue from concessions and rentals, and intense, hands-on maintenance that favored continuity over expansion (Moser, 2017; LehighValleyLive, 2017). This model generated deep local loyalty but limited capital for major modernization, a trade-off that made the park socially resilient but economically vulnerable as larger regional parks and new leisure forms emerged after World War II (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

 

TRANSITION PRESSURES TOWARD THE END OF THE LONG ERA
Following Tom Long’s death in 1965, Mabel Long continued to steward the park into the late 1980s, but the park’s aging infrastructure and the growing gap in economies of scale relative to larger parks began to show. The Longs maintained authenticity and continuity, yet the business faced mounting maintenance needs and changing market expectations, setting the stage for post-Long ownership changes and later struggles (Moser, 2017; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

Competitive Pressures: Rise of Mega‑Parks & Changing Leisure:

From Local Resort to Niche Attraction

By the postwar decades and accelerating from the 1970s onward, the regional marketplace for leisure transformed. Large, corporate-backed amusement parks (Hersheypark, Dorney, Cedar Fair properties) expanded ride inventories, marketing reach, and season‑length offerings, creating a tourism economy that favored scale, investment, and one-stop destination experiences. These parks invested in capital-intensive roller coasters, themed lands, and year-round amenities—features that appealed to wider, automobile-enabled audiences and prioritized multi-day visitation over the short, local trips that sustained trolley‑era parks (Moser, 2017; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

MARKETING, ACCESSIBILITY, AND EXPERIENCE ECONOMIES
Mega‑parks developed professional marketing, pricing strategies (season passes, bundled experiences), and corporate partnerships that small operators could not match. Improved highways and car ownership made regional travel to these larger parks routine, diluting the catchment area of small parks like Bushkill. Simultaneously, new at-home entertainments (television, video games, streaming) and suburban retail/leisure alternatives (malls, multiplexes) reduced casual attendance at local mid-sized venues (Moser, 2017).


SCALE ADVANTAGES AND COST STRUCTURES
Large parks benefit from economies of scale in procurement, safety compliance, and staffing, and can amortize the cost of expensive capital projects over millions of annual visitors. They also command favorable insurance and financing terms due to diversified revenue and stronger balance sheets—advantages that small, family-run parks cannot easily replicate. For Bushkill, these dynamics meant that necessary investments (ride overhauls, electrical systems, flood mitigation) became relatively more expensive and harder to justify given constrained local demand and limited access to low-cost capital (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

 

NICHE SURVIVAL AND THE RISE OF AUTHENTICITY
Not all small parks failed—some, like Knoebels, survived by combining family ownership with strategic reinvestment, campground/camping amenities, and a hybrid of free admission and ride‑ticket models that broadened revenue. For others, the response took the form of specialization: emphasizing vintage rides, authenticity, and regional nostalgia. Bushkill’s post‑2017 revival leans into this authenticity strategy—positioning the park as a heritage site and community venue rather than a mass‑market competitor—leveraging volunteer labor, targeted events, and fundraising to attract visitors who value historic character over blockbuster thrills (Moser, 2017; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 Insurance, Regulation, and the Paperwork Crisis:

When Paperwork Becomes a Barrier

The post‑flood reality for Bushkill Park was shaped as much by institutional responses as by physical damage. After the 2004–2006 floods, insurance payouts proved inadequate to cover full restoration of antique rides, electrical systems, and buildings; insurers either increased premiums dramatically for flood‑prone properties or refused coverage altogether, leaving owners to shoulder large uninsured losses or to sell assets to raise cash (The Morning Call, 2004; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

FLOODPLAIN RECLASSIFICATION AND REGULATORY BURDENS
Federal and local floodplain management changes compounded the problem. Updated FEMA flood maps and tighter permitting requirements effectively reclassified portions of the park as high‑risk, triggering mandatory mitigation measures for substantial repairs or rebuilding (elevation, flood‑proofing) that were technically feasible but financially prohibitive for a small seasonal operator. These regulatory costs—necessary for long‑term resilience—became immediate obstacles to reopening and to obtaining affordable insurance (Focus on Floods; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

ADMINISTRATIVE COMPLEXITY AND TRANSACTION COSTS
Beyond large capital upgrades, the park confronted an array of administrative burdens: environmental permits, electrical and ride‑safety recertifications, building‑code compliance, and documentation required by grant programs or FEMA assistance. Small operators often lack in‑house legal, engineering, and grant‑writing capacity, so these transaction costs effectively raised the threshold for recovery; as one longtime volunteer observed, the park was overwhelmed not only by water but by paperwork (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Feathers, 2015).

 

CONSEQUENCES FOR DECISION‑MAKING
Faced with large mitigation costs, limited insurance, and cumbersome regulatory steps, owners made economically rational but culturally painful choices: sell irreplaceable rides, mothball structures, or defer restoration. Those decisions reduced immediate financial exposure but also eroded the park’s heritage asset base, complicating later preservation and fundraising efforts. In short, institutional and regulatory contexts helped determine which parts of Bushkill could be saved and which could not (The Morning Call, 2004; Focus on Floods).

Conservation & Technical Work: Restorations, Rides, and Organs: Repairing Motion and Music

Conservation began with condition assessments to triage artifacts by cultural value, vulnerability, and cost to stabilize. Priority items commonly included the band organ and carousel mechanisms (high cultural value and salvageable), electrical/control systems (safety critical), and structural elements of the roller rink and pavilions (weather exposure and occupant safety). Triage guided limited funds and volunteer labor toward interventions that prevented irreversible loss while deferring lower‑value restorations (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; Feathers, 2015).

 

MECHANICAL AND STRUCTURAL INTERVENTIONS

Common technical work involved: drying and decontaminating water‑soaked wood and metal; replacing corroded fasteners and bearings; rebuilding or fabricating missing ride components; rewiring to current electrical codes with elevated or waterproofed control panels; and stabilizing foundations and footings affected by scour. Where possible, conservators favored repair over replacement to retain original fabric, using reversible techniques and documenting interventions for future conservators (Feathers, 2015; The Morning Call, 2004).

 

CONSERVING THE BAND ORGAN AND MUSICAL ASSETS

Historic band organs and pipework require specialized conservation: careful drying, cleaning of pipes and bellows, reconditioning of leather and pneumatic systems, and repair of carved and painted façades. Skilled organ restorers and volunteers coordinated to disassemble, catalogue, and, when feasible, relocate sensitive components to dry, secure storage for staged restoration. The organ’s restoration was both technically demanding and symbolically central—its return signals the park’s auditory identity and supports fundraising narratives (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; Feathers, 2015).

 

VOLUNTEER SKILLSETS AND PROFESSIONAL PARTNERSHIPS

Much work relied on skilled volunteers (mechanics, carpenters, electricians, conservators) and on pro bono partnerships with local trades, historical societies, and preservation professionals. These collaborations supplied technical expertise, access to tools, and grant‑ready assessments. Where specialized skills were required (organ restoration, certified ride inspections), the park contracted or sought partner organizations to meet regulatory and conservation standards (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

 

DOCUMENTATION, STANDARDS, AND LONG‑TERM MAINTENANCE

Conservation emphasized documentation: photographic records, parts inventories, and maintenance logs to ensure future continuity. Establishing routine maintenance schedules (lubrication, electrical checks, seasonal decommissioning) reduces long‑term costs and preserves volunteer knowledge. Nonetheless, recurrent flood risk and insurance constraints mean many technical fixes remain provisional until more durable mitigation funding is secured (Feathers, 2015; Focus on Floods).

 

ONGOING NEEDS AND STRATEGIC PRIORITIES

Critical remaining needs include secured, climate‑controlled storage for delicate components; funds for certified ride inspections and repairs to meet state safety codes; elevated electrical and control systems; and capital for flood mitigation around the most vulnerable assets. Targeted grants for historic mechanical conservation and partnerships with regional preservation entities are plausible next steps to move from stabilization to full restoration (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

Midcentury Operations: Rides, Rink, and Community Life:

Everyday Rituals and Peak Season Traditions

By midcentury, Bushkill Park operated as a tightly choreographed seasonal economy built around routine rituals: weekend skating, carousel rides, evening dances, company picnics, and modest midweek maintenance. The park’s attractions—the Bar’l of Fun, the Long carousel(s), The Whip, bumper cars, and the roller rink—functioned less as isolated novelties than as recurring social anchors that structured leisure time for multiple generations (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; Moser, 2017). Regular programming (bandstand music, skating nights, and holiday events) sustained predictable attendance and reinforced the park’s role as a communal “third place” for families, teens, and local workers from Easton’s industrial economy (LehighValleyLive, 2017).

OPERATIONS, STAFFING, AND SEASONAL ECONOMICS
Operationally, the park relied on a small core staff supplemented by seasonal hires and often family labor. Revenues came from modest admission/ride fees, concession sales, rink rentals, and event bookings; capital improvements were incremental and often funded from operating cash rather than external financing (Moser, 2017). This conservative fiscal posture limited debt exposure but constrained large‑scale upgrades—helpful for survival during short downturns but disadvantageous when facing systemic shocks or competition from larger, heavily capitalized parks.

SOCIAL ACCESS AND DEMOGRAPHICS
Bushkill’s affordability and proximity to trolley and later automobile routes made it accessible to working‑ and middle‑class families across ethnic communities in the Lehigh Valley. Oral histories and contemporary reporting emphasize intergenerational use—grandparents who danced on the pavilion floor, parents who skated on Saturday nights, and children who learned to ride the carousel—creating layered memories that strengthened volunteer efforts decades later (Feathers, 2015; The Morning Call archives).

LIMITS OF THE MODEL
The same features that made midcentury Bushkill beloved—low prices, local staffing, and preservation of vintage rides—also produced long‑term vulnerabilities. Deferred capital investment, reliance on seasonal revenue, and rising regulatory expectations for ride safety and building codes gradually increased the fixed costs of operation. These structural constraints intensified the park’s exposure to later environmental and market shocks (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

Floodplain Geography & Hydrology Risks:

Beauty and Vulnerability

Bushkill Park’s riverside setting has been central to its appeal and central to its risk profile. The park sits adjacent to Bushkill Creek, whose scenic banks provided natural swimming, picnic vistas, and the cool microclimate that drew early trolley‑era visitors. At the same time, this proximity places park infrastructure within a dynamic fluvial corridor subject to episodic high flows, bank erosion, and inundation during extreme storms. Because the park occupies low‑lying ground along the creek, floodwaters can rise quickly and penetrate buildings and ride foundations, turning aesthetic advantage into recurring physical vulnerability (Focus on Floods; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

FLOOD HISTORY AND PATTERNING 
Documented major flood events—most notably the 2004 inundation associated with the remnants of Hurricane Ivan and subsequent high‑water years in 2005–2006—submerged park structures, deposited heavy sediment, and damaged ride mechanics and electrical systems (LehighValleyLive, 2017; The Morning Call, 2004). Repeated flooding concentrated loss and increased the frequency of costly repairs; each large event also affected insurance availability and premiums for the site.

 

IMPLICATIONS FOR INFRASTRUCTURE AND PLANNING
Flood exposure raises specific technical and managerial challenges: electric systems and control panels require elevation or waterproofing; wooden ride components and antique organs are highly susceptible to water damage and biological decay; foundations and paved surfaces need resilient design to resist scour and sediment loading. Mitigation options—elevation, floodwalls, engineered riprap, wet‑floodproofing, or relocating sensitive assets—are capital‑intensive and often beyond the means of small operators without grants or public partnerships (Focus on Floods; Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.).

 

RISK, INSURANCE, AND LONG‑TERM VIABILITY
Beyond immediate repair costs, flood risk affects insurability and financing. FEMA flood‑map reclassifications and jurisdictional permitting can require expensive retrofits or restrict development in floodways. For Bushkill, these regulatory and insurance dynamics have been as consequential as the physical damage itself, constraining the business model and shaping decisions about which assets to restore, sell, or memorialize (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Focus on Floods).

The Coma Years: Abandonment, Vandalism, and Cultural Memory and From Busy Grounds to Silent Rides

How Closure Altered the Park’s Physical and Social Landscape

After the mid‑2000s floods and ensuing financial and regulatory pressures, Bushkill Park entered a prolonged period of partial closure and neglect—what local observers have called the park’s “coma” phase (LehighValleyLive, 2017; Feathers, 2015). With limited operating capacity, owners mothballed rides, boarded buildings, and sold some artifacts to offset losses. The visible decline transformed Bushkill’s public image from cherished community hub to an emblem of ruin and nostalgia.

 

VANDALISM, LOOTING, AND ACCELERATED DECAY
The vacancy invited secondary damage. Vandals and trespassers stripped wiring, broke windows, and defaced painted surfaces; exposure to the elements and lack of routine maintenance accelerated rot in wooden structures and corrosion in mechanical systems. The loss of climate-controlled storage for delicate items (pipe organs, papier-mâché figures, painted panels) led to irreversible deterioration of objects that required specialized conservation (Feathers, 2015; The Morning Call, 2004).

 

MEMORY, MYTH, AND MEDIA ATTENTION
Paradoxically, abandonment intensified the park’s cultural resonance. Media stories, local oral histories, and urban‑explorer photographs circulated images of the derelict carousel and boarded pavilions, framing Bushkill as a site of melancholic Americana. This visibility generated renewed interest among historians, preservationists, and nostalgia-driven volunteers—people motivated to document, salvage, and eventually rally for restoration (LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

GRASSROOTS ORGANIZING IN THE SHADOWS
During the coma years informal stewardship emerged: neighbors patrolled against vandalism, collectors negotiated salvage of at‑risk items, and small fundraisers preserved what they could. These grassroots acts kept institutional knowledge alive and created the networks that later supported the park’s partial revival. Without this informal caretaking, losses during the abandonment period would likely have been far greater (Feathers, 2015; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

Financing Recovery, Grants, Philanthropy, and Sustainable Revenue Strategies:

From Patchwork Giving to Strategic Capital Planning

THIS IS HOW YOU CAN HELP BUSHKILL PARK

*Please Note These Are Ideas Only… We Have Not Yet Received Any Major Funding.*

BLENDING GRANTS, DONATIONS, AND EARNED INCOME TO FUND RESTORATION

Small historic parks typically pursue a mix of federal, state, and local grants (historic preservation, FEMA mitigation, community development, and cultural grants). For Bushkill Park, viable grant targets include Historic Preservation Fund grants, state historical commission awards, FEMA Hazard Mitigation Assistance (HMGP/BRIC) for flood projects, and local recreation or economic‑development funds. Successful applications require engineering scopes, cost estimates, environmental reviews, and matched funding or demonstrated community support—documents the volunteer coalition has been building (Focus on Floods; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

 

PHILANTHROPY, CROWDFUNDING, AND EARNED REVENUE
Philanthropic gifts from local foundations, major donors, and corporate sponsors can underwrite capital projects or endow maintenance. Crowdfunding and membership programs convert grassroots nostalgia into small, recurring revenue and useful publicity. Earned‑income experiments—ticketed special events, private rentals, seasonal wristbands, and merchandising—provide operating cash but are unlikely to cover large capital expenditures without scale or premium pricing (Bushkill Park & Grove, n.d.; LehighValleyLive, 2017).

FINANCIAL STRUCTURING AND MATCHING STRATEGIES
Combining small public grants with philanthropic matches and in-kind contributions (volunteer labor, donated materials, pro bono engineering) reduces cash needs and demonstrates community leverage to larger funders. Phased projects with clear deliverables (e.g., 1) site stabilization, 2) elevated electrical systems, 3) organ restoration) make grant packaging easier and lower execution risk. Establishing a nonprofit fiscal sponsor or 501(c)(3) preserves donor incentives (tax deductibility) and facilitates larger grants and institutional partnerships (Feathers, 2015).

RISK‑AWARE CAPITAL PRIORITIZATION
Given flood risk, funders will favor mitigation‑first, spending: elevating or relocating critical controls, securing climate-controlled storage for irreplaceable artifacts, and implementing temporary floodproofing to protect ongoing investments. Capital plans should include lifecycle cost estimates, contingency reserves, and an operations plan showing how earned revenue and donations will sustain maintenance and insurance costs post-project (Focus on Floods; The Morning Call, 2004).

INSURANCE, BONDS, AND LONG-TERM SUSTAINABILITY
Restoration must be coupled with realistic insurance planning: some mitigation increases insurability and reduces premiums, but some risks may remain uninsurable. Building a small reserve, exploring captive insurance options through municipal partnership, and staged de‑risking (limiting high‑value assets in floodplain) are strategic choices. For durable viability, the park needs a diversified revenue mix, a modest endowment or reserve, and continued community engagement to maintain donor and volunteer flows (LehighValleyLive, 2017).

If you have the ability to access any of these ideas, please reach out to Bushkill Park. We would love to learn more and work with you! 

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