It might not have been a long time, but Colman Domingo certainly seemed to have himself a good time during a whirlwind 24 hours in Philadelphia for Saturday’s Fourth of July festivities.
The West Philly native and Emmy Award-winning actor was in town to accept an award from Mayor Cherelle L. Parker as part of the city’s Semiquincentennial celebration. And he did what many Philadelphians would do to deal with the heat: eat a cheesesteak and wash it down with a water ice.
“Oh Philly! A time was had in 24 little hours,” Domingo wrote on Instagram on Saturday, with photos from a variety of Philly sites and restaurants, posing with his husband, Raúl Domingo. “Thank you to Mayor Parker for the tremendous honor this morning at Constitution Hall. Got me a cheesesteak and a water ice and I am good!”
Domingo, who has vaulted to stardom through roles in HBO’s Euphoria and the Academy Award-nominated film Sing Sing, among others, joined the throngs of visitors that filled the city for the celebration of America’s 250th birthday.
The actor stopped at South Street, where he patronized Jim’s South Street and Rita’s Italian Ice & Frozen Custard.
“We were in here doing our thing like normal, and [people] were like, ‘Oh, my God,’” Earon Waiters, the manager at Jim’s, said of Domingo’s surprise appearance.
“He’s a very down-to-earth, chill guy, funny, real relaxed — very pleasant to talk to,” Waiters added. “Some staff recognized him immediately, but he didn’t want any special treatment; he went through the line, placed his order.
“He was really cool.”
Colman Domingo, actor and former Temple University student, arriving at graduation at Temple University on May 6, 2026. He was awarded an honorary degree during Temple’s 139th Commencement ceremony and gave the commencement address.
Waiters said Domingo was at the restaurant for about a half hour, eating and taking photos with customers and members of the staff.
Asked about Domingo’s order, Waiters paused to check with the cooks.
“They say he ordered a Whiz with onions,” he reported back.
(His cheesesteak order, the actor told The Inquirer in 2023, consisted of “cheesesteak with Whiz, grilled onions, salt, pepper — you always gotta say salt, pepper, ketchup — pickle, and sweet peppers.” )
Domingo’s stop at Rita’s — a few minutes’ walk from Jim’s — was more covert.
Aaliyah Neal, an employee at Rita’s, was working on Saturday when Domingo stopped by with a group of people. She didn’t immediately know for sure it was him, she said, as he was wearing a hat and sunglasses.
“Him and all the people he was with were very nice,” said Neal, who recognized the actor from Euphoria and his role in Michael, the recent Michael Jackson biopic. “I recognized him, but … I wasn’t sure if it was him. I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to bother him.”
“He got a small water ice — I just don’t remember the two flavors he had gotten,” she added.
Colman Domingo and Mayor Cherelle L. Parker, at the Constitution Center during the City of Philadelphia Celebration of Freedom event on July 4, 2026.
On Saturday, the actor was honored, along with six others, during a ceremony at the National Constitution Center celebrating the nation’s Semiquincentennial. Domingo, who attended Temple University, was presented with the “One Philly Award for the American Voice” by Parker.
His social media post included a photo of him with WDAS host Patty Jackson and singer Yolanda Adams, who sang the national anthem at the event.
As he often does, Domingo spoke glowingly of the city that shaped him.
“Philadelphia, I love you so much,” he said in his address to the gathered crowd. “I love the people, the spirit. And baby, let me tell you something, when people say, ‘Where do you get your style from?’ I said, ‘I come from Philly.’ ‘Where do you get your work ethic?’, ‘I come from West Philly.’ ‘Where do you get your stride?’ I said, ‘Just look around at the people in Philly — they’ll show you everything.’”
BOSTON — Not long ago, the folks over at the Boston Globeturned their spotlight on, of all places, Philadelphia. With the nation’s 250th birthday fast approaching, the newspaper dispatched a reporter to our fair city to determine how it stacks up, historically speaking, to Boston.
The story revealed that — despite being primarily known for bad weather and baked beans — Boston apparently fancies itself a city with a robust and impressive history. In fact, some seemed to be of the opinion that Boston’s Revolutionary history might even be better than Philadelphia’s.
“As the old saw goes,” one Massachusetts historian told the paper, “Boston did the hard work of making the Revolution, while Philadelphia did the paperwork.”
Admittedly, this came as a bit of a surprise to us here at The Inquirer. What we had assumed is that when your city lays claim to the Liberty Bell, the Declaration of Independence, the U.S. Constitution, and a starring role in the 2004 Nicolas Cage film National Treasure, any debate over historical prominence is bound to be a little one-sided.
The 221-foot Bunker Hill Monument – which actually sits atop Breed’s Hill – seen here on Sept. 30, 2025.
Having myself once lived in Boston, I, too, was a bit miffed, as it had always been my understanding that the city’s history amounted to little more than drunken shenanigans and historical fan-fiction — a bizarre collection of half-truths and falsehoods.
But like the Founding Fathers themselves (at least five of whom are buried at Philadelphia’s Christ Church, though who’s counting?), I remain open to new ideas.
And so I set off recently for that little New England burg to the north, eager to experience firsthand the rich and vibrant history that we Philadelphians had apparently been missing out on.
A trail of freedom and fabrication
It was mid-June when I arrived in Boston, which meant that winter would be wrapping up in just a few short weeks, and the city was abuzz.
Hollywood might have you believe that Boston is a grim, gray place where residents spend all their time robbing banks and inquiring about one another’s fondness for fruit, but in truth, the city is a lively hub of art, education, technology, and — as I’d recently learned — history.
And how better to delve into that history than by joining a walking tour of Boston’s famed Freedom Trail, a 2.5-mile path featuring several of the city’s most significant historical landmarks?
As a dozen or so of us set off with our guide, Kenneth — a friendly fellow dressed in authentic Revolutionary garb consisting of a polo shirt that said “Boston History Company” — it was hard not to feel a swell of patriotic pride.
What quickly became apparent, however, is that — when it comes to its history — Boston has spent the past 250 years playing a little loose and fast with the facts.
A traffic cone sits atop the statue of Samuel Adams as morning commuters pass Faneuil Hall in Boston on June 17, 2026.
Take Paul Revere, arguably the city’s best-known historical figure.
You might recall Revere from his famous “midnight ride,” detailed in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s iconic poem, during which Revere successfully alerts fellow colonists of a coming British invasion.
In reality, Kenneth explained, Revere had pulled on his boots, set off on horseback into the New England night — and been promptly captured by British soldiers.
In fact, of the three riders sent out that night, our guide said, Revere was the only one who’d failed to complete the mission.
There was also the matter of the city’s most famous Revolutionary battle, the Battle of Bunker Hill — namely, that it was fought not on Bunker Hill but at a completely different location, called Breed’s Hill.
Rather than correct the record, Boston in 1843 built a massive 221-foot monument atop Breed’s Hill, labeled it “The Bunker Hill Monument,” and marketed it as a major civic attraction — though, luckily, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this bit of misdirection:
“[Bunker Hill’s] got the better name,” Kenneth explained. “So that’s what we went with.”
But a city’s history, of course, is about more than just names and dates and stories — it’s about monetizing those stories through a carefully curated local tourism industry.
The tourist experience
Proponents will tell you that, much like Philadelphia, Boston has done a terrific job preserving the city’s historical aesthetic, and this certainly seemed to be the case.
For instance, if you ignored the Chipotle, the CVS, the Walgreens, the Sweetgreen, the TJ Maxx, the Shake Shack, the cell phone repair shop, the Falafel King, and the 47 or so Dunkin’ locations lining the Freedom Trail, it was pretty much impossible not to feel like you’d been transported right back to the 1700s.
Trey Fuccillo, 23, of Boston leads attendees during a “Democracy Walk” with David Hogg, co-founder of Leaders We Deserve, and Patrick Roath, candidate for Congress, outside of the Old State House in Boston on Wednesday, April 8, 2026.
The crown jewel of the city’s historical district is the bustling Faneuil Hall Markeplace — which once served as a prominent meetinghouse for the Sons of Liberty and today is a very good place to get, say, a $23 bowl of chowder and a key chain with a shamrock on it.
Like Philadelphia’s Independence Hall, which remains a meticulously maintained ode to Philadelphia’s Revolutionary history, Boston’s Faneuil Hall — and nearby Quincy Market — is also a site that shows great reverence to the city’s past.
For instance, when you walk past the Sephora and take a left at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville — if you reach the Sunglass Hut, you’ve gone too far — you will eventually arrive at a small shop selling tasteful tributes to the city’s storied history, such as:
A T-shirt featuring three cartoon men in wigs, chugging beers below the words, “The ‘Pounding’ Fathers.”
A T-shirt featuring an image of Benjamin Franklin wearing sunglasses and holding a red Solo cup, along with the words, “Ben Dranklin.”
Despite such thoughtful offerings, it turns out that Boston’s quest to attract history-focused tourists in the lead-up to America’s 250th birthday hasn’t always been easy.
“Philadelphia’s been cleaning our clock in terms of getting people to come to Philadelphia to see history,” says Robert Allison, president of the Colonial Society of Massachusetts and co-chair of Revolution 250, a consortium of New England organizations dedicated to honoring the nation’s Semiquincentennial.
But back to Ben Dranklin for a moment…
Rambod Hashemi, center, leads dances as Cory Allen Staats performs outside Faneuil Hall in Boston on Saturday, June 20, 2026.
The Franklin conundrum
One issue that tends to get a little sticky between Boston and Philly is which city possesses a stronger claim to Benjamin Franklin, the wacky, kite-flying Founding Father.
Franklin’s story is a tale as old as time: Child is born in a small town (Boston), longs for something more, and, as a teen, eventually works up the courage to set off for the big city (Philadelphia), whereby, suddenly surrounded by other brilliant minds, he blossoms.
Despite this, Bostonians have struggled to relinquish their ties to Franklin, whose name and likeness are plastered across the city.
One afternoon, for instance, I found myself at the Mount Auburn Cemetery in nearby Cambridge, staring up at an enormous monument marking Franklin’s burial spot.
This was notable only in the sense that Franklin is very much buried 300 miles away, at the Christ Church Burial Ground in Philadelphia.
During our tour, Kenneth, the guide, had shared an improbable story. Apparently, an eccentric rich man named Thomas Dowse — in an effort to get more people to visit Dowse’s own grave site — had arranged to have a false burial monument to Franklin constructed nearby.
“A psych-out,” Kenneth called it.
Certain Kenneth must be mistaken — that not even in Massachusetts could someone be so arrogant and status-obsessed as to erect a fake burial monument — I called the cemetery in question and sheepishly recounted the story I’d heard.
“That’s absolutely true,” replied Meg Winslow, the senior curator of historical collections and archives at Mount Auburn — and a Philly native.
“It’s pretty big,” she added of the monument. “In the cemetery world, we call it a ‘cenotaph’ — which is a memorial without a body.”
As my first day in Boston drew to a close, I tried to take stock of what I’d learned. In truth, after 24 hours in the city, I’d yet to uncover the kind of historical magic I’d hoped to find.
But maybe, I realized, I’d been setting my sights too narrow.
To fully appreciate the local history, maybe I needed to go a bit further back in time.
Plymouth Crock
The next morning, I awoke early and — with a renewed sense of optimism — headed south on I-93, toward the one historical landmark that was guaranteed to impress: Plymouth Rock.
Like every American child, I’d grown up learning about this vaunted slab of stone — the very rock where the Mayflower Pilgrims had made landfall back in 1620.
Today, the rock is featured in a prominent seaside park 30 miles outside of Boston, and though some Yelp reviews have been lukewarm — “This rock is smaller than my dog’s bed.” … “How can a rock be so famous and [yet] such a let down at the same time?” … “I am so glad I am dying of a terminal disease so I don’t have to ever visit here again.” — I was not going to let a few naysayers dampen my spirit.
Visitors stand in a pavilion that shelters Plymouth Rock, below, in Plymouth, Mass., in June 2021. (AP Photo/Steven Senne)
While it’s true that the rock is on the smaller side, and that the vast majority of tourists who’d made the pilgrimage did not immediately appear blown away (“Corny-ass rock,” grumbled one teenager in headphones), none of that took away from the rock’s significance — or the sense of awe I felt while gazing upon it.
This — right here in front of me — was the actualrock that the Pilgrims first set foot upon when they disembarked from the Mayflower more than 400 years ago.
“Actually, that’s a little bit of a myth,” explained a nearby park ranger, a skinny fellow with a wily white beard. “They arrived in winter, so there was snow and ice. No one’s stepping onto rocks with snow and ice.”
OK. But still: This — right here in front of me — was the veryspot where the Mayflower had come ashore…
“The Mayflower didn’t come in,” corrected the ranger. “It was anchored a mile and a half out. A smaller vessel came in.”
Fine. But what was indisputable was that the town of Plymouth — the town in which I now stood, the town that has staked its entire identity to Plymouth Rock — was absolutely, positively the veryfirst place the Mayflower Pilgrims landed when they arrived…
I looked at the ranger.
“They stopped first at the tip of [Cape Cod],” he said, “in a place called Provincetown.”
The Bell in Hand Tavern on Tuesday, July 9, 2025.
The verdict
Back in Boston later that day, it was hard not to feel a bit dejected.
I’d arrived in the city two days earlier with high hopes and an open mind, ready to immerse myself in its history; now, it seemed I’d be leaving with little more than some blisters and moderate-to-severe sun damage.
On my last afternoon in town, I was wandering glumly through the city’s streets, wondering if the trip had been for naught, when I stumbled upon an old business.
The Bell In Hand Tavern, a sign out front read. Oldest Tavern in America.
I walked in and took a seat at the bar.
Maybe it was the cool breeze flowing in from the open windows. Maybe it was the middle-aged finance guys flirting unsuccessfully with their server at a nearby table.
But sitting there, in the oldest tavern in America — trying to decide, like so many great patriots before me, between the loaded nachos and the steak-and-cheese spring rolls — I suddenly realized that I’d been looking at things all wrong.
In the end, history isn’t some gaudy competition. We all play a role in this great nation. Sometimes, as in the case of Philadelphia, that role includes having the Liberty Bell, the U.S. Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and being the literal birthplace of democracy. And sometimes, as in the case of Boston, it means erecting fake burial monuments and celebrating small rocks of dubious historical significance.
Does that make one city “better” than the other?
Yes.
Obviously.
But the point is, it all matters.
For the first time since my arrival, I felt a pang of appreciation for this scrappy New England city, with itscute little history tours andincorrectly placed monuments.
And though my train back to Philadelphia would soon be departing, I was overcome by the urge to mark this moment in the only way that seemed right.
“Excuse me,” I called to the bartender, brimming with a newfound sense of patriotism. “I’ll have a Samuel Adams lager.”
This inaugural citywide arts festival has been running strong since late-May, but the coming weeks offer a deep slate of programming ahead of the July 4 weekend.
Launched to “foreground our city’s artists as interpreters of this complex moment in American history,” the multidisciplinary festival includes puppetry, dance, music, books, film, and more through July 2.
The lead-up to Independence Day features multiple exhibitions and events, many of them free, making it an affordable way to celebrate the nation’s milestone birthday.
The Brandywine Valley Symphony will perform “Masterworks 3: Made in America” in the open-air venue at Longwood Gardens. Before the concert, organizers for Dare to Declare will attempt the region’s largest public reading of the Declaration of Independence.
🕒 June 25, 7 p.m., 💵 $20-$65, 📍 1001 Longwood Road, Kennett Square, PA 19348, 🌐 bvsymphony.org
Play trivia, test your knowledge against a historian, and attend a town hall on the “shared principles at the heart of the American idea.” It’s all free and part of the weeklong lead-up to July 4, when the National Constitution Center celebrates America’s 250th birthday.
🕒 June 29-July 4, times vary, 💵 Free, 📍 525 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 constitutioncenter.org
Headlined by 20-time Grammy winner Kirk Franklin, this two-hour gospel music celebration features a choir of more than 250 voices against the backdrop of Independence Hall. Seating is first-come, first-served.
🕒 June 28, 7 p.m., 💵 Free, 📍 599 Market St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 july4thphilly.com.
A worker prepares to raise the head of a fire-breathing dragon lantern in preparation for the Philadelphia Chinese Lantern Festival at Franklin Square this year.
The festival is back with a special nod to the global events arriving in Philadelphia this summer. Handmade sculptures take over Franklin Square, with nightly performances held on three stages: face-changing, table foot-juggling, and head-balancing.
🕒 Open daily between now and Aug. 2, 💵 Adults $28-$32, with discounts for children and seniors, 📍 200 N. Sixth St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 phillychineselanternfestival.com
Cam Gorman, 23, of Gilbertsville, Pa., cheering with Philly Sports Guy at the FIFA Fan Festival at Lemon Hill, as USA beats Australia on June 19.
With the U.S. team still battling for a title, what better way to celebrate the lead-up to 250th birthday than by cheering on the team in the World Cup?
The tournament, with several matches hosted in Philadelphia, has transformed the city into a summer-long party. Much of the action centers on the Fan Festival at Lemon Hill, where visitors can enjoy music, food, drinks, and watch parties. Admission is free, though preregistration is required.
Two Round of 16 matches are scheduled for July 4, at 1 p.m. and 5 p.m., though the participating teams have yet to be determined. The 5 p.m. game will be played at Lincoln Financial Field.
🕒 Various dates and times, 💵 Free (registration required), 📍 Lemon Hill Park, 1 Lemon Hill Drive, Philadelphia, PA 19130, 🌐 phillyfwc26.com.
Philadelphia’s Historic District goes all out with a full day of events welcoming visitors to America’s “most historic square mile.” Highlights include a giant human Liberty Bell, plus a block party and street music festival featuring more than two dozen acts. At 7 p.m., Queen Latifah performs with the Army Field Band and Soldiers’ Chorus on Independence Mall. A 13-minute drone show follows later that evening.
🕒 July 2, 7 a.m. to 9 p.m., 💵 Free, 📍 Philadelphia’s Historic District, 🌐 july4thphilly.com
Dan St. Mary poses for a portrait with his bubble dispenser during the Salute to Independence Parade on July 4, 2025, in Center City.
This year’s parade features an extended route, along with 50 marching bands, 19 floats, and tributes to all 50 states and U.S. territories. The event begins at 5th and Chestnut Streets and winds through Center City before ending near Broad and Chestnut Streets. Feel like skipping the crowds? Catch it live on NBC 10.
🕒 July 3, noon to 4 p.m., 💵 Free, 📍 Independence Hall to Benjamin Franklin Parkway, 🌐 july4thphilly.com
The Philly Pops are joined by Broadway legend Idina Menzel for a two-hour concert on the eve of Independence Day. A pre-show block party featuring food trucks and giveaways begins at 5 p.m. Seating is first-come, first-served.
🕒 July 3, 7 p.m., 💵 Free, 📍 599 Market St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 july4thphilly.com
Musket firing will be a part of the Independence Day Celebration at Valley Forge National Historical Park.
Valley Forge marks 50 years as a national historical park with three days of commemorative programming, including Revolutionary War reenactors, musket firings, and artillery demonstrations.
SEPTA Bus 125 will get you to the park, and a park shuttle runs throughout the celebration from July 3-5. Plus, there are bike rentals on-site. All events are free to attend, and you can find a complete schedule of the weekend’s events at the National Park Service website.
🕒 July 3-5, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, 💵 Free, 📍 North Outer Line Drive in Valley Forge National Historical Park, 🌐 nps.gov.
A three-day slate of activities begins July 3 with extended First Friday hours at the Heritage Center and an evening car show at the East Greenville Fire Co. The next day features a parade, a reading of the Declaration of Independence, performances by the Brandywine Colonials Fife and Drum Corps and the Red Hill Band, followed by fireworks. On July 5, the Heritage Center hosts a free family-friendly event from noon to 4 p.m. with exhibits and refreshments.
🕒 July 3-5, times vary, 💵 Free, 📍 Various locations, 🌐 schwenkfelder.org.
In addition to musical performances from Yolanda Adams and DJ Diamond Kuts, a collection of speakers — including Philly Mayor Cherelle L. Parker — are slated to reflect on the nation’s history on the morning of its 250th birthday.
🕒 10 a.m. to 11 a.m., July 4, 💵 Free, 📍 599 Market St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 visitphilly.com
The courtyard of the Betsy Ross House will be filled with animals on the morning of July 4, during the annual patriotic pet parade and costume contest. Pets will be judged in five categories — Most Patriotic, Best Betsy Ross Influence, Best Duo with Owner, Best Non-Canine, and Best in Show — so make sure they arrive dressed to impress.
🕒 10:30 a.m., July 4, 💵 Free (pet registration required), 📍 239 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA 19106, 🌐 historicphiladelphia.org
Christina Aguilera, pictured here in 2016 in Morocco, is one of several musicians performing at this year’s One Philly: Unity Concert for America on July 4.
This July 4 star-studded concert on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway features Christina Aguilera, The Roots, Jill Scott, Meek Mill, Will Smith, DJ Jazzy Jeff, Seal, and others.. Comedian Wanda Sykes serves as host. Doors open at 3 p.m., and performances begin at 5 p.m.
🕒 5 p.m. to midnight, July 4, 💵 Free, 📍 Benjamin Franklin Parkway, 🌐 visitphilly.com.
LAWNSIDE — For nearly 200 years, the historic Peter Mott House — believed to have once served as a stop on the Underground Railroad — has managed to withstand the encroachment of the outside world.
In the 1950s, construction of the New Jersey Turnpike brought a heavily used trafficway within just a few hundred feet of the home.There was the time, in the 1980s,when a developer bought up a patch of surrounding land with plans to raze the structure and build housing units. And the arrival of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 left the home shuttered for three years — and its future temporarily uncertain.
Now, the New Jersey Turnpike Authorityplans to soon begin work on a $2 billion project to expand the turnpike, which would bring the highway — currently located just 220 feet from the Mott House — 12 feet closer to the building.
The plans have prompted a wave of pushback from a small but vocal group of Lawnside residents, who fear that vibrations from the construction could damage the nearly two-century-old structure and that already “deafening” traffic noise in the area could become unbearable.
Already, says Linda Shockley, the longtime president of the Lawnside Historical Society, which owns and maintains the Mott House, it can be difficult for visitors to hear over the hum of the turnpike. The back of the house, which boasts a quaint patio, is essentially unusable without the use of microphones, she said — and this is to say nothing of the potential environmental and safety implications of bringing a heavily traversed highway even closer to a residential area.
The expansion, which also includes plans to widen nearby Warwick Road, has become — in Shockley’s words — “like a sword of Damocles hanging over us.”
“What are you doing and when are you going to do it?” Shockley said. “And what say do we have over how it’s done?”
Traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike passes at the end of a cul-de-sac near the historic Peter Mott House in Lawnside, N.J.
Theconstruction arrives at a seminal moment for the historic borough, which this year is celebrating the 100th anniversary of its incorporation.
Originally settled by formerly enslaved people who escaped or were freedand considered the first independent, self-governing African American community north of the Mason-Dixon Line, Lawnside has long boasted a historical significance far outsizing its modest 1.4-square-mile footprint.
In the 1930s, it was home to a bustling entertainment district, drawing high-profile acts such as Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. Three decades later, Lawnside’s school district became one of the first U.S. governmental entities to declare the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday a holiday.
No aspect of Lawnside’s history, however, has remained as vital to its identity than the Mott House, the onetime home of Peter Mott,a free Black farmer, preacher, and abolitionist, who, along with wife Elizabeth, was a conductor on the Underground Railroad.
Built around 1845, the home is Lawnside’s oldest known house and is widely believed to have been a refuge for enslaved people traveling from the South — making it a strong symbol for the community at large.
“This town has been a beacon of hope for African Americans,” said Darryl Lee Dozier, 60, a longtime Lawnside resident. “To be able to walk outside and say, ‘Harriet Tubman came through this town’ — that’s iconic, man.”
At least 18 municipalities across Salem, Gloucester, Camden, and Burlington Counties will be affected by the turnpike project, but the proximity of the Mott House — as well as a neighboring housing development — to the construction has stoked fears that it will be uniquely vulnerable. State officials say they are working closely with local leaders to ensure that any adverse effects of the project are minimal.
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AECOM, the infrastructure firm handling the engineering work for the turnpike project, told The Inquirer recently that Lawnside qualifies for noise barriers to help alleviate the effects of the project, and that “vibration monitoring,” as well as inspections, would be conducted throughout the course of the project.
“Should the vibrations for any reason exceed a threshold that would cause concern, then the activities would pause and we’d figure out what’s going on,” said Matthew Rao, a project manager with AECOM.
New Jersey Assemblyman William F. Moen Jr., who grew up in the area, said he has been engaged in conversations with the New Jersey Turnpike Authority about the project since 2020 and has been cognizant of the questions raised by Shockley and others.
“I’m acutely aware of her concerns, and I think they’re valid,” he said. “This is the time to be talking about those things, and making sure, to the extent that they can be, that they’re reflected in the final plan of what’s going to happen.”
Still, many in Lawnside remain wary.
Kia Jones at her home next door to the Peter Mott House in Lawnside, N.J. Tuesday, May 26, 2026. Plans to expand the nearby New Jersey Turnpike have left local residents concerned about how it could affect a beloved institution as well as neighboring homes.
Despite meetings with officials, said Kia Jones, 60, whose home sits near the proposed turnpike expansion, residents have largely felt powerless throughout the process.
“Their whole attitude seems to be, ‘It’s a done deal — we’re just talking to you because we have to, but nothing’s going to change,’” she said.
For some in this South Jersey borough of roughly 3,000 residents, meanwhile, the expansion raises unmistakable echoes of the 1950s, when construction of the turnpike left a profound impact on the community.
At the time, America’s vast network of highways was displacing — and often targeting — Black communities across the country.
Initially, Shockley said, only six homes in Lawnside were supposed to be affected by the turnpike’s creation. But by the time it opened in November 1951, she said, 27 families had been affected.
“Some people’s houses were purchased, some houses were condemned,” Shockley said. “I’ve seen pictures of houses on flatbed trucks, being moved.”
(It was not lost on some in Lawnside, Shockley points out, that the turnpike conveniently curves around the nearby Tavistock Country Club, a private golf club founded in 1920.)
Though few in Lawnside are old enough to remember the turnpike’s arrival, many have felt the ripples.
Lorraine Pollitt, 70, a lifelong Lawnside resident, grew up hearing about her great-grandparents’ farm, which, she said, had fallen in the turnpike’s right-of-way and, as a result, had to be sold.
Seventy-five years later, Pollitt said, the expansion project feels like more of the same.
“Just taking more from us here,” she said. “It’s always something.”
For Shockley, who has served as president of the historical society since 1994, the effort to preserve and protect the Mott House has been a nearly 40-year endeavor.
She first got involved in the late 1980s, when a local developer, Mark DeFeo, received permits from the borough to raze the house in order to build a small housing development.
A group of residents organized to try to stop the home’s demolition, and Shockley — who was raised in Lawnside and had recently moved back from New York — joined the effort.
It took three years and considerable legal wrangling, but the developer eventually agreed to sell the home to the group for $1.
For its efforts, Shockley later told the New York Times, the group found itself in possession of “a decaying, vacant house … in danger of collapsing.”
In the years since, however, the historical society, buoyed by a dedicated collection of volunteers, has turned the property into a gem that has garnered national renown. The group has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars toward upgrades and repairs through grants and donations.
The house opened to the public in 2001, and, today, it offers a variety of programming, including a weeklong summer camp for middle schoolers on the history of the Underground Railroad, sitting on both the national and state registers of historical places.
In her mid-30s when she joined the effort, Shockley is now in her 70s, her hair flecked with gray. She retired in 2021 from her job at the Dow Jones News Fund, a journalism nonprofit foundation.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she joked one morning recently, from a seat inside the Mott House, “but I’m getting older.”
Linda Shockley, president of the Lawnside Historical Society, at the Peter Mott House in Lawnside, N.J. Tuesday, May 26, 2026. Shockley has served as president of the local historical society since 1994.
But while there is still work to be done, she remains dedicated to doing it — one more battle in a long string of them.
“Ask anybody who’s trying to do anything with historic buildings, or restore history or culture, and you find that, yeah, there’s always something — and there are always threats to it,” she said.
When Steve and Kelly Wilson appeared last year in an episode of Gordon Ramsay’s Secret Service — a FOX reality show in which the celebrity chef lends a hand to struggling restaurants — it appeared to be a victory for their Upper Darby barbecue establishment, Wilson’s Secret Sauce.
In the episode’s final moments, after executing a significant makeover, Ramsay stands with the Wilsons in the restaurant’s dining room, which is brimming with patrons.
“A full house,” Ramsay tells the couple. “Get used to it.”
The reality, though, has apparently been different.
Just a year after Ramsay’s reality-TV glow-up, the Wilsons told Philadelphia magazine this week that they’d elected to close the restaurant and sell the building after a year of declining business.
From the start, the couple’s restaurant was an unlikely endeavor. Their foray into the local food scene came around 2010, when Steve — a former mechanic — began a barbecue catering service from their home. But when demand jumped in the ensuing years, they eventually decided to open a brick-and-mortar restaurant.
Kelly, at least, was not exactly thrilled with the idea.
“[Steve] came home from bowling and asked me if I wanted to open up a restaurant — I literally said, ‘[Expletive] no,’” she said on the episode of Secret Service. “‘I’ve never worked in one, you’ve never worked in one, and I don’t think we could work together all day long.’”
Nevertheless, Wilson’s Secret Sauce debuted in 2018 in Upper Darby, specializing in barbecue dishes while also serving everything from pizza and lobster to egg rolls.
But stress quickly ensued, and when Ramsay came to town last March, he set about transforming the restaurant.
Over the course of the 43-minute episode, Ramsay chastised the couple for everything from food hygiene to kitchen inefficiencies before helping implement a variety of changes aimed at ensuring the restaurant’s survival.
Among the various changes pushed by Ramsay was significantly shrinking the restaurant’s expansive menu, which the couple did, whittling their dozens of menu items down to just 13.
But the Wilsons later told Philadelphia magazine that business slowed after Ramsay’s suggested change, at least in part because customers missed the items that had been cut from the menu.
“We had a lot of customers coming in from day one of the new menu begging us to bring the old menu back,” Kelly Wilson told the magazine. “We were getting lost with his menu, and our menu really worked a lot better.”
While the Wilsons’ sit-down restaurant is set to close, they said they’ll continue the catering service that was once their bread-and-butter, operating out of a shared “ghost kitchen.”
Mooshy the dog stands on the steps leading to the basement of the South Philadelphia home of Sam Gellerstein and Sara Sarmiento on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026.
The ask: Sam Gellerstein wanted space.
He’d been in South Philly for the better part of a decade, and he loved the area. But his one-bedroom off East Passyunk Avenue was starting to feel small. What’s more, after a three-year long-distance relationship, his partner, Sara Sarmiento, was moving to Philadelphia from South Florida. He needed a place big enough for both of them — and big enough to support a future family.
The one-bedroom “was cool for me as a person living by myself,” said Gellerstein, who cofounded and plays bass for Philly band Snacktime. “But wanting to have a dog and start a family, we wanted to have a nice, big house, and we wanted to be around cool stuff.”
It was important to stay in South Philly and to be able to have friends and family visit, too — so extra living spaces were a must. He and his partner also wanted something they could make their own.
“My girlfriend’s an amazing artist, and I like to think I have some style myself, so it was really important to have a place we could put our touches on,” Gellerstein said. “We didn’t want to just hang up the pictures and be like, ‘This is our place.’ We wanted to be able to put our personality into it.”
Sara Sarmiento sits with Mooshy in the South Philadelphia home on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026. She and boyfriend Sam Gellerstein closed on the home in August.
The search: Their search began last June. Gellerstein estimates that they looked at about 15 houses — pretty much all of them south of WashingtonAvenue. One, near 13th and West Ritner Streets, seemed promising. “It was a really beautiful house with one of the craziest backyards I’ve ever seen in Philly,” he said. “Really amazing high ceilings. It was really special.” The downside was that it didn’t have central air, and the basement was in need of significant work. So when they submitted an offer and didn’t get it, it wasn’t the end of the world. Not long after, they found The One.
The appeal: Unlike the previous house, this one had central air as well as a mostly finished basement. They liked that this house didn’t need a ton of work and that the money they’d save on renovations could be used on other things. Gellerstein loved the standalone bathtub. It also had a backyard and was next to Wharton Square Park.
Sam Gellerstein in the second-floor bathroom of his South Philadelphia home on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026. The bathtub was one of his favorite features when considering the home.
The decision to make an offer was easy. “There wasn’t too much drama in selecting the house,” Gellerstein said.
The deal: The home had multiple offers, so the couple put in a bid over asking price. Ultimately, they offered $346,000, and the bid was accepted. As part of the negotiation, the couple agreed to informational inspection, and the seller offered $11,000 to help with closing costs.
Art work hangs in the South Philadelphia home of Sam Gellerstein and Sara Sarmiento on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026. They wanted a home that would allow them to put some of their own personality into the space.
The money: “I had some money that I found in a couple different accounts that I’d been saving up in, and I used some of my old retirement money from a previous job,” Gellersteinsaid. All told, they put $19,000 down and were able to secure a monthly mortgage payment of $2,375.
The move: Gellerstein hired movers to take his belongings from the one-bedroom to the new home, and the couple used a moving van to get his partner’s things from Florida to Philly.
Sam Gellerstein in the kitchen of his South Philadelphia home on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026.
Any reservations? With the exception of a dryer that needed replacing shortly after moving in, “the house has been very good to us,” Gellersteinsaid. “It held up through these cold winter months, nothing crazy happened, so we’re really grateful.”
He’s loving the basement, particularly. “We put a [vintage] Herman Miller cubicle down in the basement and separated it off from the den so it almost functions as another little tiny room,” he said. And after years spent working in a cramped bedroom, the added space has been revelatory.
Sam Gellerstein sits at his basement music work area in his South Philadelphia home on Friday, Feb. 27, 2026.
“It’s really nice to be able to work and write music and compose and get my emailing done,” he said.
Having a fenced-in backyard has been great for the couple’s new pit bull, Mooshy, on mornings when a long walk isn’t possible. Next on their to-do list is turning an unfinished portion of the basement into an additional bathroom.
Sara Sarmiento sits in her second-floor office in the South Philadelphia home she shares with boyfriend Sam Gellerstein. She recently moved to Philadelphia from Florida.
Life after close: They’ve quickly fallen in love with the neighborhood, which they’ve found incredibly welcoming. “The block is super tight,” Gellerstein said. Meanwhile, a collection of nearby restaurants and coffee shops offers plenty to do.
“We put a lot of work into getting this house that’s perfect for us,” he said. “Who knows what the future might hold? But we don’t view this as a starter house — we view this as our house.”
Did you recently buy a home? We want to hear about it. Email darnett@inquirer.com.
A cookie jar and lamp in the South Philadelphia home of Sam Gellerstein and Sara Sarmiento. Purchasing a home that didn’t need significant work allowed them to save money for additions they wanted to make, rather than needed.
She didn’t even like diamonds. That was the funny thing. Costume jewelry, yes. A pair of handmade earrings, certainly. Diamonds, well, she’d always found them a bit showy.
She liked this one, though, because it had been Jim’s.
It was a man’s ring, a 1.3-carat diamond, round cut, set on a simple gold band, and when her husband, Jim, passed away a few years ago, Cindy Ware made it hers.
Cindy Ware of Kennett Square with diamond inherited by her late husband, Jim. She lost it but it was discovered embedded in a neighbors shoe in Florida. Photograph taken at her home on Wednesday, Feb. 25, 2026.
She wore it everywhere — to the grocery store, to lunch with friends, to her morning water aerobics class. It brought her comfort. A few times a day, she would look down at it, think of Jim, and smile.
“I never took it off,” says Cindy, who is 82 and impossibly sweet and sometimes wears a sweatshirt that says I’m often mistaken for an adult because of my age.
So when the diamond went missing last December, shortly before Christmas, Cindy was devastated. She felt sick, like she’d let Jim down.
She thought to herself: “Cindy, you just lose everything that’s important.”
A 60-year love story
Cindy Ware met the man she would marry in Pinkie Patterson’s second-grade class. This was in Mount Holly, N.C., in 1951. On Valentine’s Day of that year, while out sick with the mumps, Cindy had been allowed to come to the school parking lot to collect her Valentines.
The teacher sent a little boy out to deliver a box of treats.
He had a buzzcut and a little cowlick and his name was Jim.
Childhood photograph of Jim Ware the late husband, Cindy Ware of Kennett Square. She lost the diamond he inherited but it was discovered embedded in a neighbors shoe in Florida. Photograph taken at her home on Wednesday, Feb. 25, 2026.
Well, Cindy’s mother thought Jim was about the most precious little boy she had ever seen. And Cindy — who until that point hadn’t given it much thought — soon decided that maybe she agreed.
By high school, they were an item — inseparable, Cindy explains, “except when we were mad at each other and dated other people.”
They got together for good during college, and theirs was a 60-year love story.
They married in 1965. They moved to New Jersey, then to Pennsylvania. They raised three boys. Their boys grew up and had children of their own. A few years ago, they settled into a retirement community in Kennett Square, where they liked to take morning walks and eat pizza with mushrooms and pepperoni.
“We never needed a lot of anything else,” Cindy says. “Just the two of us.”
Wedding photograph of Jim (late) and Cindy Ware of Kennett Square. She lost a diamond he inherited but it was discovered embedded in a neighbors shoe in Florida. Photograph taken at her home on Wednesday, Feb. 25, 2026.
When Jim got sick, in 2020, it was horrible.Months of doctor’s visits, then specialist visits. Then, finally, hospice.
“The worst year of my life,” Cindy says.
Not long after Jim passed, in 2023, Cindy was getting the family’s affairs in order. One day, at a local bank, she opened an old lockbox and discovered a diamond ring — an heirloom that had been passed down through generations of Jim’s family.
Back when she and Jim married, and they didn’t have much money, he had told her she could have her pick: a ring or a car. “That’s a no-brainer,” she had replied. “I want a car.”
Still, something about the diamond spoke to her.
She plucked it from the lockbox and slid it onto her middle finger, and that’s where it remained for the next three years.
The missing diamond
She was having lunch with a friend last December when she glanced down and realized it was gone.
The diamond had dislodged from the setting, and it was nowhere to be found.
“I was just bereft,” Cindy says.
It could have been anywhere. In her car. In the grass outside her home.
At one point, she wondered whether she had lost it during her water aerobics class at the retirement community’s swimming pool. Things could get a little intense with the arm exercises. Maybe it had jostled loose and sunk to the bottom.
But what could be done? Even if they drained the pool, the likelihood of them ever finding the diamond was minuscule.
Her sons urged her not to worry, assured her that it was OK. There was always the chance that it might still turn up.
But weeks passed, then months.
Eventually, she resigned herself to the fact that the diamond was never coming back.
‘That might be a diamond’
One afternoon a couple weeks ago — on a pool deck 1,100 miles from Kennett Square — a man named Coleman looked down and noticed, lodged in the tread of his Lands End pool shoe, what appeared to be a small piece of glass.
Or wait. Maybe it was some kind of gem.
At a pool in South Florida earlier this month, a Pennsylvania man looked down at his pool shoe and discovered what at first appeared to be a gem or piece of glass stuck in the tread.
For days he had been wearing the pool shoes — to the pool, through locker rooms. He had stuffed them into his gym bag, into a suitcase. Earlier that day, he had worn them on a walk in the gritty sand of a South Florida beach.
He also wore them back home in Kennett Square, where he lived in a retirement community. In the afternoons — after the ladies finished their morning water aerobics — Coleman’s group played pool volleyball. He always wore his pool shoes during games.
Now, sitting poolside in Florida, Coleman’s husband, John, examined the stone and said, “Uh, that might be a diamond.”
Intrigued, but not yet convinced, the couple went the following day to a Pompano Beach jeweler.
Nine times out of 10, the jeweler told them, when people think they’ve found a diamond, it turns out to be nothing.
This was not one of those times.
Yes, the jeweler said, it was a diamond, all right — 1.3 carats, nicely colored, likely from the 1950s or ’60s. Probably worth a bit of money.
Tickled, Coleman posted a photo of the diamond to Facebook.
A diamond in the sole of his shoe
Back in Pennsylvania, Cindy was on the phone with her good friend.
It was Valentine’s Day, and the two were chatting about this and that, and at the end of their conversation, in passing, her friend mentioned a man from their neighborhood, Coleman, who had just posted a photo from Florida.
Apparently, he had found a diamond lodged in his shoe.
As it happened, Cindy and Coleman knew each other well. They lived just a couple streets apart, worked out in the same pool. Once, when Jim was in hospice, Coleman and his husband had brought her flowers.
Cindy tracked down the photo. Saw the small gem lodged in her neighbor’s pool shoe.
Impossible, she thought.
She dialed Coleman’s number.
“Hello,” she said, “I think you have my diamond.”
The return
It was confirmed a day later.
Back from Florida, Coleman delivered the diamond to Cindy’s house, along with a collection of yellow roses. Neither of them could stop smiling.
Best they can tell, the diamond fell to the bottom of the community pool, where Coleman — while playing pool volleyball — happened to step on it, just right. How it had remained lodged in his shoe’s tread for days or weeks or months — across multiple states — was anyone’s guess.
“It could never happen in a million thousand years,” Cindy says.
Says Coleman, “It does make you sit back and think for a minute about what is going on here.”
As you might imagine, their story has been the talk of their retirement community. Everyone, it seems, wants to talk about the little diamond that traveled halfway across the country in a shoe.
As for the diamond itself, Cindy has decided that it‘s time to pass it on, to her oldest son.
“I can no longer be trusted,” she jokes.
In the meantime, she has stopped wearing it to water aerobics.
For nearly a century, the Samuel Pennypacker School has survived — a three-story brick anchor of the West Oak Lane neighborhood in Northwest Philadelphia.
Now it faces the threat of extinction.
ThePhiladelphia School District says the school’s building score is “unsatisfactory” and modernizing it would cost more than $30 million. District officials are calling for shutteringPennypacker following the 2026-27 school year, funnelingits students to nearby Franklin S. Edmonds or Anna B. Day schools— part of a citywide proposal to close20 district schools.
The recommendation, district officials say, is no reflection of the “incredible teachers, community, [and] students” at Pennypacker. Rather, it is an attempt by the district to optimize resources and equity for students.
Like many district schools, Pennypacker, which serves students in kindergarten through eighth grade, is aging and outdated, having opened in 1930. At just over 300 students, it is among the city’s smaller schools — and operating at about64% of building capacity.
Yet, it is those same qualities — its size and longevity — that represent some of its greatest strengths, say those in the school community who are not happy about the proposed closure.
It’s a school, they say, that is more than the sum of its aging parts.
On the school’s walls are pocks of chipped paint, yes, but also the colorful detritus of a small but vibrant student population: a poster composed of tiny handprints in honor of Black History Month; a “Blizzard of Positivity” — handwritten messages reading “Smile” and “Hugs” and “Help your friends when they fall.”
It’s where Wonika Archer’s children enrolled soon after the family emigrated from Guyana — the first school they had ever known.
“A lot of firsts,” Archer said. “Their first friends, their first teachers outside of their parents.”
It’s where, since 1992, Andreas Roberts’ youth drill team has been allowed to practice. The team, which includessome Pennypacker students, recently participated in its first competition andwon first place.
“Pennypacker has been very, very useful to us,” he said. “We have nowhere else to practice for the kids.”
It’s where Christine Thorne put her kids through school, her son and her daughter, and where her grandchildren now go. Around the school, they call her “Grandmama.”
“I feel as if my household is being destroyed,” she said recently.
For students, news of the imminent closure has been no less jarring.
When Janelle Pearson’s fourth-grade students learned recently that their school was poised to be shuttered under the district’s plan, they took it as a grim reflection on themselves.
“It makes them feel like, ‘What did we do wrong that they want to close our school?’” said Pearson, who has taught at Pennypacker for abouta decade. “That’s the part that tugs at your heart.”
Unwilling to go down without a fight, the fourth graders resolved to do what they could. Soon, a poster took shape, in marker and crayon, a series of pleas addressed to Philadelphia Superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr.
“Pennypacker is our home.”
“Don’t uproot our education.”
“Our neighborhood depends on this school!”
The poster was presented to district officials earlier this month at a community meeting held in the school’s wood-seated auditorium.
At that meeting, representatives from the district did their best to explain the reasoning for the proposed closures. They presented a tidy PowerPoint and talked of student retention and program alignment, of building capacity and neighborhood vulnerability scores.
It stood in stark contrast to the parents and teachers and staffers who, one by one, held a microphone and spoke of love and family and community, of teachers and staffers who routinely went above and beyond to make their children feel safe. To make them feel special.
“It’s not just about a building,” said Richard Levy, a onetime Pennypacker teacher who now works at St. Joseph’s University. “The challenges here aren’t reasons to close the school — they’re reasons to strengthen it.”
Whether their appeals might affect the district’s decision remains to be seen. Other schools in the district slated for closure have mounted efforts of their own, and, despite a recent grilling by City Council members, it seems all but certain that several schools will ultimately shutter.
The Franklin Institute has welcomed its newest exhibit with the world premiere of “Universal Theme Parks: The Exhibition.”
The 18,000-square-foot exhibit — which opened Saturday — takes visitors behind the scenes of the country’s billion-dollar theme-park industry through an expansive collection of costumes, immersive photo opportunities, and park props.
The exhibit has eight galleries, 20 interactive components, and 100 theme park-related artifacts ranging from actor show props to model roller coasters.
Young Lachlan McMahon poses for a photo at the Franklin Institute’s newest exhibit, “Universal Theme Parks: The Exhibition,” on Thursday.
At an early showcase Thursday, those behind the exhibit touted it as a “first-of-its-kind look” that would “[immerse] guests in the creative process that brings Universal’s most iconic experiences to life.”
“At the institute, I think we are really a leader in bringing exhibitions that educate, but they do it while entertaining,” said Larry Dubinski, president and CEO of the Franklin Institute.
“We wanted to create an exhibit in which we could teach some interesting things about engineering, design, jobs that are in a booming business, like theme parks, and [inspire] that curiosity and creativity.”
Kyra Zamborsky (left) and Jade Beasley at the Franklin Institute’s new exhibit that pays homage to Universal’s theme parks, in Philadelphia, on Feb. 12, 2026.
Among the goals of the exhibit was to package science and technology learning in an accessible way.
“History and science and technology — these things need to be wrapped in a layer of immersion that gets today’s kids excited,” said Dan Picard, owner and chief creative officer of creative design firm MDSX. “Because they don’t want to walk through a place that’s boring. … If you do not have a vibe, you’re not going to sell tickets, you’re not going to connect with kids, and you’re not going to have a shot to create that spark that makes them curious about these topics.”
Created in partnership between the Franklin Institute and Comcast NBCUniversal, the exhibit opens with a video featuring legendary filmmaker Steven Spielberg that uses archival footage to take visitors through the history of Universal’s theme parks.
From there, visitors will find a collection of galleries showcasing all aspects of the theme-park universe. There is a station on the science of roller-coasters, including models of real-life coasters, as well as costumes worn by park workers.
Among the most popular stops on Thursday was a station that allowed users to program the movements of an animatronic figure from DreamWorks Animation’s How to Train Your Dragon. (The exhibit features other Universal attractions, including Jaws, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and Jurassic World.)
Sprinkled throughout the exhibit are video interviews with those who make Universal’s theme parks tick — from costume designers to storyboard artists and creative directors.
“There’s so many opportunities for interactivity and creative storytelling,” said Abby Bysshe, chief experience and strategy officer at the Franklin Institute, of the draw to creating a theme park-related exhibit. “It was about kind of curating all these parts and pieces, and talking with their team members and finding ways to really highlight what makes Universal theme parks so special.”
At the new exhibit at the Franklin Institute that pays homage to Universal’s theme parks, in Philadelphia on Feb. 12, 2026.
“At the end of the day, our mission is to inspire and educate,” said Dubinski. “And here, people are going to be inspired, they’ll be educated — and they’ll have a great time as they go through.”
“Universal Theme Parks: The Exhibition,” runs through Sept. 7, 9:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily. Daytime tickets range from $41 for children to $47 for adults and include admission to the Franklin Institute.
Evening tickets, available from Thursday through Saturday, are $25 and limited to the Universal exhibit. Tickets at fi.edu, (215) 448-1200.
Lincoln, the 26-year-old bald eagle that performs at Eagles home games and recently starred in a heartwarming Super Bowl commercial for Budweiser, isn’t the only local bird getting prominent airtime this week.
A pair of Lancaster County bald eagles are currently the subject of a popular livestream presented by the Pennsylvania Game Commission and HDOnTap — one of two active eagles nests being livestreamed by the state at the moment.
The two eagles — nicknamed “Lisa” and “Oliver” — have captured the imagination of onlookers as they preside over three eggs expected to hatch next month.
At mid-morning Wednesday, the livestream had more than 100 live viewers. On Facebook, commenters leave by-the-hour updates on the birds’ comings and goings (“Oliver brought a nice size fish for Lisa’s dinner,“ wrote one Facebook commenter.. Last year, the Lancaster County nest alone saw nearly 700,000 viewers over the course of the year.
It’s a popularity that Jason Beale, the game commission’s conservation education and social science chief, attributes to the bald eagle’s mythic status, its position as a national emblem, and the animals’ history of near-extinction.
The bald eagle, in fact, has made a stunning comeback in recent years, “one of the great wildlife conservation stories in the history of both the state and the nation,” according to the Pa. Game Commission.
In 1990, the number of known active nests in the state had dwindled to just eight. Today, that number stands at more than 300.
The Lancaster County eagle cam is one of two livestreams of active eagles nests in the state, the locations of which are undisclosed to protect the animals and their nests. The state also operates an elk cam (1,151,559 views in 2025) and a snow goose cam (which has been a bit of a bust this year, Beale admits).
But the eagle cam is where the interesting stuff seems to happen, says Beale.
Once, he said, a livestream caught an eagle carrying a cat up to the nest. Another time, a turtle.
All of it can make for good TV.
“Generally, if you watch it for a few minutes, you’re going to see something,” Beale said.
As for the enduring popularity of the eagle cam?
Said Beale, “It’s happening when people are cooped up inside, they’re ready to get out in the spring, and it’s a way to connect with nature at a time when not a lot of us are connected with nature.”
Find the Lancaster County eagles nest livestream at bit.ly/4rdfTU1.
