When I’m not delivering tours of Eastern State Penitentiary, I am working on my doctoral dissertation on the cultural history of video games in America, so I am often interested in the ways both topics—prisons and video games—intersect.
When I was growing up, small bouquets of flowers would mysteriously appear in my house during the month of May. My dad always told me that the May Fairies (relatives of the Tooth Fairy) brought the flowers for my mom because they liked her so much.
Since it’s too early to send my wish list to Santa, I thought I would see if there are any “May Fairies” out there who might like ESP enough to bring some things for our collection.
Today we received another artifact donation! These bookends are gifts from the Biedermann family. The inmate(s) who made them gave them to William Biedermann, a guard, to commemorate the building’s closing in 1970.
These items, which initially seem straightforward, are actually very mysterious. Three of the keys on one bookend are attached by an extra chain with a tag that reads:
Morro.
Almacen No. 11
Cocinas.
1882.
My life seems to be defined by prison. Hear me out.
I am a tour guide here at Eastern State Penitentiary Historic Site, so I work in prison. I met my girlfriend here in prison when she was an intern. Together we got a dog…from prison.
I had heard of the “Death Row Dogs” program before. I’m not sure where or when. (I watch a lot of TV.) But I didn’t know how great a program it is until my girlfriend Erica found a picture of our future dog on a shelter site on the web. Once clicking on the picture, it read:
In doing research for ESP’s upcoming Prison Architecture Field Trip, I heard a juicy rumor that I needed to investigate. Could it be true that the architect of Moyamensing Prison, which once stood at Passyunk and Reed Streets in South Philadelphia, had commissioned a monumental gravestone in the shape of the prison he had designed?
As most of Eastern State’s fans know, Pop-Up Museum!, the small exhibit of objects in ESP’s collection, is now over. After weeks of preparation and ten days of exhibition, all the artifacts have been returned to our archival storage space in our administrative offices. It feels a little sad, like the end of the holidays when all the people you love and don’t get to see very often head home and the excitement is all over…
Where was I April 29, 1988? Sitting in the offices of the Redevelopment Authority at its board meeting as they discussed the three development proposals for Eastern State Penitentiary. The City of Philadelphia was on the verge of selling the site to a private developer.
Eastern State Penitentiary is known for its eerie beauty. With walls decaying before your eyes, nature thriving inside cellblocks, and divine light provided by perfectly structured skylights, ESP is an unbelievable combination of sorrow and serenity. It is breathtaking.
From the massive facade to the thousands of tiny keyholes, I find myself constantly distracted, wishing I could be out in the blocks with my camera. (Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. But as a photographer, I am always anxious to photograph here.)
For the last 17 years, TransWorld’s annual Halloween & Attractions Show has been the must-attend event for anyone in the haunted attraction industry. As a first-timer, I was ecstatic to attend the show last week in St. Louis, Missouri. Brett Bertolino (Director of Operations), James Travis III (Manager, Design Services), and I set out on a mission to network with other industry leaders and to find answers to some of our big picture questions for Terror Behind the Walls 2013:
Several months ago I was on a mission to find vintage film footage of Eastern State Penitentiary. It was my latest research obsession. I was trolling around the University of South Carolina’s Moving Image Research Collections (MIRC) online, and I came upon a description that looked hopeful. Words used to describe this particular 3-minute black-and-white film included: “convicts,” “Philadelphia,” and “penitentiary.”
Sometimes new technology drives museums to think, in my view, backwards. They think, "Hey, this is cool," and then they try to find a visitor experience that uses that technology.
I go to these museums and I'm reminded of a childhood friend's house. His father had bought a wood router a few years back, and their home was filled with cute signs and wooden knickknacks. At some point the father had grown bored with the tool, but the house was still filled with clutter that, I'm guessing, nobody in the family really wanted in the first place.
Earlier this month we threw a staff reunion party for all the folks who worked at Terror Behind the Walls in 2012. Not only did we dance and make bloody valentines, but we also gave the cast a chance to share some of their ideas for TBTW 2013.
When we brainstorm, the rule is that there are no bad ideas. Of course, we eventually have to sit down and figure out what’s feasible and what’s safe. But to get the ball rolling, we throw tons of ideas onto a flipchart.
Some cast members suggested new characters:
The first time I visited Eastern State Penitentiary was eight years ago. I was attending the Secret Cinema event, a special movie screening that was held at the prison that night. My friend had absurdly insisted on wearing a pirate's eye patch to the prison that night to attract attention. It worked, and soon a beautiful woman was talking to us, asking him, of course, about the eye patch. Hadn't it been on the other eye a few minutes ago?
As a tour guide who is completing his second winter season here at Eastern State, I notice that a common question from visitors who first enter the site is, “Why is most of the site not accessible?” There are a couple viable answers to this question:
This weekend we will be celebrating the life and legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. for the first time with a special reading and discussion of his “Letter from Birmingham Jail” on this, its 50th anniversary of writing. Like most people, I first learned about King and his pivotal role in advancing civil rights in school as a child. But in the past few weeks, I've come to see him in a way I never had before.
