Last year, a nice older man named Frank started attending Chadds Ford Walking Club events regularly. At first quiet, he eventually became quite the storyteller of local history, often filling our strolls with stories about the Underground Railroad, the Battle of the Brandywine, and how many of his relatives from generations ago were deeply involved in these events.

Frank is quietly funny. He told me stories about his wife and his daughter, their horses, and the tractor he’s been working on for months… maybe years. He eventually told me he lived in a house called Oakdale, and he had a surprisingly detailed knowledge of the Barnard House in Pocopson.

I never asked Frank his last name. I don’t really ask anyone at Walking Club their last name. I share about my family sometimes, but mostly ask questions, letting others share the details they feel comfortable offering up to relative strangers.

A couple of months ago, Frank mentioned a monthly lunch he attends with more than a dozen of his Unionville High School classmates from the class of 1957. What an interesting group of people, I thought. I bet they have so many wonderful stories to tell and so much knowledge about Chadds Ford before it was the Chadds Ford I know today.

Bold, maybe… but I asked if I could come to lunch with his former classmates one day. He asked their permission, and they graciously accepted my self-invite. 😂 Yesterday, I got to have lunch with them at Hank’s, and it was so much fun!

members of the UHS Class of 1957 gathering for lunch at Hanks — The group enjoying lunch at Hank’s.

Looking back

They told me stories about growing up in Chadds Ford and what school used to be like. Only one student in their class of 65 had his own car, and his dad built it. It was a far cry from the luxury-filled lot that surrounds Unionville High School today.

Kindergarten didn’t exist yet. Chadds Ford housed first through tenth grade, and students could choose to graduate from Unionville or West Chester. Unionville students in all grades went to class in what is now Unionville Elementary.

They attended school through the school desegregation era. Up until about middle school for their class, Black and white children attended class only with students of the same race but played together outside at recess. Students were used to being together, so they said integration didn’t feel hugely different. For me, it’s a reminder that history that sometimes seems distant wasn’t always that long ago.

A very special book

Bill Taylor, who still lives in Chadds Ford, brought a special gift for a fellow classmate, Bob Cloud, who drove up from Virginia with his wife just to attend the lunch. Bill loves to browse through old books, looking for copies with signatures and personal notes tucked inside.

A few months ago, Bill stopped into the Goodwill on 202 in Concord and stumbled upon a book given to Bob’s father by Bob’s mother for Christmas in 1952. He purchased the book and gave it to Bob as a surprise gift at lunch. How cool is that?

We need to start writing more notes in books and giving them as gifts so they can live on like this one.

Bob Cloud with the book, written by one of his father’s favorite authors, Bennett Cerf

Joyce Parrett coordinates the lunches and keeps the group up to speed on their classmates through a monthly email newsletter. Funny enough, Joyce and I met many years ago at an event I hosted for WasteWell, the curbside composting company I used to own. What a small world!

Connecting the Oakdale dots

At the end of the lunch, I finally asked Frank his last name. He laughed and told me, Mendenhall. He gave me a hard time for how long it took me to ask his last name, after all the stories he told about his ancestors deeply tied to Chadds Ford’s 1700s history.

The Mendenhalls (like the Inn on Highway 52) trace their roots back to some of the original Quakers that ran the Underground Railroad. Frank still lives in the carriage house at Oakdale, one of the first Underground Railroad stops in Pennsylvania. Oakdale is a key attraction on the Harriet Tubman Byway.

Black women and children fleeing slavery stayed in the carriage house where he now lives, while most of the Black men stayed in the barn during their stopover at this Underground Railroad station. Today, the Oakdale house has a historic marker to cement its important role in history.

Those who know local history probably would have pieced together Frank’s family stories long before I did. I didn’t grow up here, nor was I a particularly good student of American History.

But as I spend more time in this area, so rich with places, stories, and former residents who helped shape the United States as we know it today, I’ve come to appreciate how historic spaces and buildings create a sense of place. Experiencing those old places and learning the stories that make them special manifests a sense of community that makes our area unique and gives us a shared grounding in what brought us to today.

It’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind and forget to connect to our past. We often spend time with those in the same phase of life as us, but we can learn a lot by reaching across generational lines, slowing down to listen to our past, and embracing what was to inform what is to come.

Near the end of lunch, Bob said, “Old people are crazy, but we’ve earned that right.” He might be right that sometimes their stories are crazy, but mostly they’re sweet. They remind us of another era when life was a little slower and more manageable. We don’t need to move backward, but don’t forget to ask the “crazy old people” (Bob’s words, not mine) about all the things before us. There’s plenty worth holding on to.

Thanks to Frank and everyone at lunch for letting me crash their party! I hope their monthly lunch continues for many years to come.