Little Free Library

The Little Free Library in Hollidaysburg.

One belief I always stand by is that you will never know enough about your community until you’ve walked every inch of it.

If someone tells you, “Yeah, I’ve been to Philly,” and goes on to say how he or she spent the whole time drinking in one bar, then chances are that person didn’t get to see everything the city has to offer.

I mention this because I found a captivating piece of work right here in Hollidaysburg, and unless I walked by it, I would’ve never known it existed.

I was on one of my routine walks through town. As I passed by one house, something caught my attention. If I didn’t turn around, I would’ve missed it.

Definitely a "Little" Free Library.

Sitting in a corner like a ninja in Johnstown was a wooden box with books in it. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. It wasn’t much taller than I was. It was sitting there, not on a street corner, but by someone’s house.

Then I noticed marker writing on the plastic roof of the box: “Little Free Library.”

Well, this is neat, I thought to myself. The owners of this house decided to build a little bookcase for people to borrow books. When I looked again, I saw the plaque providing a website name.

That’s when I realized this wasn’t just some random person who felt like being generous to Hollidaysburg. This was something bigger.

I put my curiosity to the side for a while since there were more pressing issues that day – such as if I wanted a tuna or peanut butter jelly sandwich for lunch.

A couple of weeks later, a few of us from the paper got together on the front porch of my apartment to have drinks. During discussion, the one reporter brought up how Hollidaysburg should have a Little Free Library.

I thought this was odd because I knew there was one just down the street from where I live. That was the second indication that these Little Free Libraries had more significance to them than I originally thought.

About a week ago, I made a trip to State College in search of the perfect hoody (I’ll explain another time.) I walked by a newspaper stand for The Centre County Gazette. I took one and looked at the front page. Sure enough, there to mock my procrastination was a story about a new Little Free Library opening at the Easterly Parkway Elementary School. What really got me was the quote in the story from the 6-year-old, Cecelia Corro, who cut the ceremonial ribbon.

“This makes my school even better,” she said in the story. “This will help students who don’t want to use something electronic or something that uses power. Reading just uses brain power.”

Hearing about a child promoting books and literacy is one of the best feelings in the world. This was the inspiration I needed to look into Little Free Libraries and write this post.

What I found on the website warmed my heart even more.

Little Free Libraries aren’t just some random wooden boxes popping up in Hollidaysburg or State College – it’s a global trend.

Little Free Libraries is an organization that has two core ideals, according to its website: “to promote literacy and the love of reading by building free book exchanges worldwide,” and “to build a sense of community as we share skills, creativity and wisdom across generations.” Those are two philosophies I can stand by with ease.

What I didn’t realize was the concept of the Little Free Library has outlived everyone reading these words.

The organization’s figurehead, Lutie Stearns, delivered book boxes to more than 1,400 locations in Wisconsin between 1895 and 1914, according to the website.

What makes Stearns all the more admirable was her perseverance. She overcame a stuttering problem, which is likely a huge portion of why she came up with the idea. I can relate to her myself, since I was speech-delayed until about age 5 and having to receive speech therapy through a good portion of elementary school.

The website offers Little Free Library kits for sale so people can install one just about anywhere they wish within legal limits.

The one downside is the kits range in the hundreds of dollars, but I’m guessing this is where the community idea plays a big role. People can make donations through the website, and in most cases, I imagine groups collect money to buy one.

The Little Free Library in Erie.

The kits offered on the website, however, are quite impressive and vibrant. They range from Amish barns to British telephone booths. I saw one during a trip to Lake Erie that resembled a lighthouse. Unfortunately, it was not as well-maintained as the one in Hollidaysburg. It had few books to offer and was mostly filled with junk.

The one in Hollidaysburg is a little-aged and lacking color, but it’s the principle of the box that trumps its physical appeal.

What I should note is Hollidaysburg didn’t need one of these boxes in the first place. The borough has its own public library. It’s the community aspect, however, that makes the Little Free Library such a novel idea (no pun intended … okay, it was).

The Little Free Library in Hollidaysburg has a variety of books, ranging from biographies on Davy Crockett and Andrew Jackson to a field guide about birds. There’s not the selection you would have at a regular public library, but there are advantages.

This Little Free Library can fit only about
two dozen books at a time.

Most kids don’t have the patience to go through hundreds of books on shelves in a library, but hey, most adults don’t have the patience to go through hundreds of books, either. I get headaches walking out of Barnes & Noble unless I know for certain what book I want. Sometimes, a smaller selection goes a long way. Having too many options can be overwhelming.

Another benefit about the Little Free Library is you don’t need a membership to loan books from it.

One of the best things about the Little Free Library is it gives the patron a sense of charity. You can donate books without taking any in return. You know that your donation is helping a kid out there learn to read and learn a little more about the world. You’re helping children learn the concept of community and generosity. This seems like common sense, but many of these ideas are thrown away these days. Plus, you can tell a child about these concepts, but children are more hands-on and visual learners.

I write this post today not as an endorsement or an advertisement but to raise awareness. Instead, I want more people to know how great of an idea this truly is.

I wish I knew about these as a kid. I loved to read but never had the money to buy books. There was the public library in Mountain Top, but my parents had to drive me just so I could get there. If I had a Little Free Library that I was able to ride my bike to, then I would have had access to the books that I’m just now reading like Tom Sawyer or Moby Dick.

I also encourage people to donate to the cause. I plan to at some point, but I’m sure Lolita or Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf aren’t exactly “child-friendly.” I’ll donate when I get the chance to dig up some of my old children’s books.

You can find children’s books at yard sales for dirt-cheap. Buy a couple, find one of these Little Free Libraries near you and contribute.

Chimney Rocks Park

One of the limestone pillars at Chimney Rocks Park.

The chief of a Native American tribe fancied sitting on top of a rock.
In 1924, someone placed a bronze plaque on a rock.
Seventy years later, the borough of Hollidaysburg bought the area – so they could place a nicer plaque on a rock.

Chimney Rocks Park as seen from Route 36 near Hollidaysburg.

This is all the history I could find on Chimney Rocks Park, located above Route 36 outside of Hollidaysburg. If you feel cheated of 30 seconds of your life, then you and I share the same disappointment.

Out of all the resources available on the Internet this day and age, I could find only two websites providing background on the park. 
I thought I had more at my disposal when I started the search, but I realized how a typo screwed up my results.

Chimney Rocks (emphasis on the ‘s’) Park is part of Hollidaysburg, where as Chimney Rock State Park (note the lack of ‘s’ and addition of “State”) is a gorgeous state park located in North Carolina with one rock topped with an American flag. If you’re local to Altoona, make sure to add the ‘s’ so you don’t end up driving an extra 12 hours to what should be a 15-minute trip.

Digression aside, Chimney Rocks Park has only two significant websites providing history about the place. What’s even more disheartening is they’re both almost identical because they’re websites to the local governments and almost match word-for-word. 

The Chimney Rocks can be seen from several parts of Hollidaysburg.

Anyway, present-day Chimney Rocks Park is a nice escape from the clustered streets of Altoona and Hollidaysburg. The latter purchased the area in 1994 for the rights to renovate the land with a picnic area, a playground, hiking trails, fenced overlooks and parking, according to the websites. Upon request, people can rent the park for special occasions like parties and weddings.

There are two main reasons the park brings several people every day. 

Hollidaysburg as seen from the Lower Overlook at Chimney Rocks Park.

The first is the view. The park sits on top of a small mountain (more of a big hill, but you get it – It’s high up) overlooking the valley below. From certain spots, visitors can see miles of nothing but green, rolling hills, the entirety of Hollidaysburg with its historic buildings and the outskirts of Altoona. I’ve visited my fair share of overlooks, but this one is beyond impressive.

What makes it all the better is you don’t have to climb anything to appreciate the view. Two parking lots reside just a few seconds from the park. From there, a gravel trail through a field takes you to what’s known as the Lower Overlook. The most physical activity required is getting in and out of your car. This makes the overlook convenient for people of any age or physical state. I make fun of the local government’s lack of historical background on the area, but I give it credit for its intuitiveness to choose this spot for a public park.

The second reason to visit Chimney Rocks is the rocks themselves. You can see the rocks from almost any angle in downtown Hollidaysburg. They protrude from the north face of the mountain and just sit there in solidarity among a blanket of green. They don’t look like much, but they're large enough in size to be seen from a few miles away.

If you’re smart, there’s an easy-access, wide trail starting between the two parking lots that will take you right to the rocks. If you’re ignorant like myself, you can start from one of the side trails that is about eight inches in width, contains heavy plant growth, usually has mud, is filled with cobwebs and provides all sorts of ways to mutilate yourself. To my benefit, there are other side overlooks accessible only by these tougher trails, but I wouldn’t advise anyone who lacks hiking experience or has a disability (I didn’t consider my mental handicap at the time) to attempt them. 

The view from one side of Chimney Rocks Park.

They are tough, and they are dangerous. No matter if you take the friendly trail or the death trail, they all lead back to these rocks.The rocks themselves, I found, aren’t as big as I figured. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not a pebble in your shoe, but they’re not the Cliffs of Dover, either. They have a resemblance to Stonehenge, just much rougher in texture and lacking the organized placement. It’s just a bunch of jetting limestone pillars extending from the ground. This is another reason why I keep obsessing over the park’s history. How did these rocks end up here? They protrude on this side of the mountain but almost nowhere else. Why? How long have they been around? Erosion doesn’t seem to have affected the rocks by much, but I wonder if they were much bigger decades or centuries before. They’re relatively close in position – just in one cluster. Why this spot? 

None of this is explained.

What I also found out was it’s near impossible to take a great picture of them. They’re mostly surrounded by trees, which also block much of the sunlight above, creating a shadow almost any time of day. Even with my powerful camera, I had to mess around before I could get a decent shot. Without Photoshop, my best pictures still contained darkness. 
I wouldn’t let this discourage you from seeing the rocks, though. They’re a sight to see, but they’re not worth bringing your entire family up there and spending the money to hire a portrait photographer to design your next Christmas card.

The view of Hollidaysburg from the top.

The trails eventually lead to the Upper Overlook, which is where the best view is at. The area has a concrete slab with fencing around it for a safe view, but there’s not much stopping the average idiot (yours truly) to go around and sit on the small, pants-soiling high rocks. The pictures I got from this spot were great, but if anyone was around to take pictures of me taking pictures, I’d have some embarrassing Facebook photos to explain. I had about a dozen mild panic attacks because the feeling of vertigo is constant. Any wrong twist in my posture would have sent me plummeting to my death screaming, “I should’ve seen this coming!” 
But It was worth it, and all at the cost of one soiled pair of boxers.

If I’m correct, this is what the locals refer to as the “Chief’s seat,” where according to legend, the local Indian chief overlooked the valley and issued attack commands. There’s never any mention of what tribe existed here, if it lived on the mountain or why it left (My guess is ‘Murica). 
I might be wrong about the seat’s location, but it’s the only place I can see someone sitting on a rock. It’s the widest out of the other pillars and the most accessible. Any other option would require a great deal of balance, insanity and the biggest pair of stones (pun intended) to attempt climbing and mounting these pillars of death.

The historical plaque at the top of the park.

Also at the overlook is the original plaque placed here on Oct. 17, 1924. I tried to read what is inscribed on it but to little avail. The plaque has been vandalized beyond belief (That is NOT my name on there in white) and has faded into a greenish hue with age.

The white star that can be seen at night during the holiday season.

If you decide to venture far enough, you’ll find hidden among the brush a 20-foot-tall white star with light bulbs attached. The borough lights the star every year for the holiday season. It’s not much to look at on a hot and muggy summer day, but it warms the soul on a frigid Pennsylvania winter night.

That’s my story of Chimney Rocks Park. I wish I had more. I wish I knew more. It’s such an interesting place because of its splendor and mystery. If anyone can provide me with additional information (free of charge), I would be forever grateful.

Hollidaysburg

 Hollidaysburg as seen from the scenic overlook in Chimney Rocks Park.

The first spot my editor at the Altoona Mirror recommended as a place to live was the borough of Hollidaysburg. 

He said a handful of reporters and copy editors live in Hollidaysburg because of its proximity to Altoona (no more than five miles and 15 minutes driving). Being so close to my coworkers would grant me the advantage of making connections quicker.

But just because it was close doesn’t mean it was the only option I had as a living arrangement. So I thought to myself – why Hollidaysburg?

The main reason was due to an acquaintance of the editor who was offering an upstairs apartment in town for $425 a month. I knew it wasn’t the cheapest option, but I also figured it wasn’t the most expensive, either. My hole-in-the-wall apartment in State College rented for $580 a month per tenant (there were five of us), and it was – in endearing terms – a landfill. A price tag of $425 a month for one person seemed unreal, but I didn’t have many other leads at the time (by “many” I mean “none”). 

We drove along Route 36 for a couple of minutes. The outskirts of town impressed me. At the intersection of 36 and Park Avenue sits Lakemont Park – a family resort since 1896 that includes water slides, roller coasters and kids’ rides. The park has so much history that I’m better off mentioning it in another post.

The houses along 36 had a Victorian look to them with beautiful gardens, pillars and large covered porches all around. The owners seemed to have a maintenance regiment for their yards since I couldn’t find a trace of uncut grass anywhere. A golfing club and schools also lined the route, giving me the sense that this area was suitable for children and adults alike. This wasn’t the urban setting of Altoona by any means. Everything seemed so trim and proper. This was suburbia at its finest, and we didn’t even enter Hollidaysburg yet.

We turned onto Allegheny Street, which is the main road through Hollidaysburg’s historic district.

The Blair County Courthouse

Allegheny Street

The Blair County Prison /
Central Booking

One of the train yards off Route 36
near Hollidaysburg

The view of Hollidaysburg from the top
of Chimney Rocks Park.

Along Allegheny Street sat many mom-and-pop restaurants, businesses, attorney offices, cafés and apartments. The best way I can describe it is the borough of Jim Thorpe without the incline. All the businesses are snug next to one another. There isn’t a sign of plant life other than the trees and flower plots that dot the sidewalks every 50 feet or so.

The most prolific structure in the town also sits on this street. I asked my editor what church it was, and he corrected me. It was the Blair County Courthouse (Hollidaysburg acts as the seat for Blair County). I mistook the courthouse for a church due to its large steeple / clock tower. The building is surrounded by several monuments commemorating Civil War service members and fallen police officers.

Hollidaysburg has been the county seat since 1846, when Blair County came into existence.

Also in this part of town is the Blair County Prison and Central Booking, which is about two blocks from the courthouse. I convinced myself that the prison was a Medieval castle in disguise. It has a stone perimeter and a Gothic appearance. The glass doors in the front are the only things that don’t make it look as though the building is fortified to repel a French invasion.

The courthouse and central booking are the most historical-looking structures in the borough, but it doesn’t mean history has passed Hollidaysburg by.

The local government has made the effort to display Hollidaysburg’s historical significance as much as possible. This wasn’t a hard job since Hollidaysburg oozes history. It wasn’t always this way, however.

The borough’s official website states the town of Hollidaysburg started in 1796, and by 1814 “it consisted of several houses and a tavern.” Back then, this may have been considered tremendous progress in just 18 years, but when you think about it, our country declared its independence, fought in a war and ratified the Constitution in less time. Hollidaysburg had some catching up to do.

It did just that when it became a main transfer point between the Pennsylvania Canal and the Allegheny Portage Railroad, which made the town a hub for transportation of goods and people. This increase in industrial strength is what led to the town’s certification as a borough and eventually the county seat.

On top of this, the Pennsylvania Railroad built a switching yard in the borough in 1903, making it a larger industrial power. Around the same time, road workers ran U.S. Route 22 through Hollidaysburg, which today takes you to Pittsburgh and beyond the state’s western border. Hollidaysburg's most recent claim to fame is its production of the famed children’s toy, the Slinky. The toy didn’t originate in Hollidaysburg, but the company moved its operations to the borough in 1964 and hasn’t looked back. 

Much like any other railroad town in Pennsylvania, Hollidaysburg’s economic status has leveled off, if not dipped, but it still boasts some larger businesses such as DeGol and McLanahan.

Hollidaysburg is fortunate that it is within close proximity to some excellent outdoor recreation. 

On the other side of town is Chimney Rocks Park, which provides a picnic area and trails with a terrific view of the valley below.

A couple of miles away is Canoe Creek State Park, which provides lodging, swimming, fishing, boating, kayaking and hiking at the gorgeous Canoe Lake. 

Altogether, living in Hollidaysburg is like -- as this joke has probably has been beaten to death before -- being on holiday.

Every day I’ve spent in Hollidaysburg has been laid back with little-to-no worries at all. The neighbors and locals are friendly.

There isn’t the hustle and bustle of Wilkes-Barre, Philadelphia or Pittsburgh.

Being how antsy I am, however, I probably won’t be here too long before I realize that the world is large and contains all sorts of charms like Hollidaysburg, but I’m happy to have stumbled upon this borough first.