Tags: planning | citizen engagement | sports
Tags: planning | citizen engagement | sports
May 9, 2008
In his book Walking Broad: Looking for the Heart of Brotherly Love (2007: Simon and Schuster), Philadelphia author Bruce Buschel offers a personal answer to this question, describing his encounters during a two-day jaunt down Philadelphia’s grand north-south boulevard and memories conjured up by the experience. To Buschel, Broad Street traverses a remarkable cross-section of Philadelphia, through “the squalor of North Philly to City Hall and along the theaters and hotels of Center City down to Little Italy.” But it also represents a life filled with discontent and a pervasive city-wide sense of inferiority that has come to epitomize Philadelphia’s culture. “Rather than the avenue of dreams,” writes Buschel, “Broad Street turned out to be my road of realities.”
On May 4, I had the opportunity to relive Buschel’s trek as one of more than 22,000 participants in the annual Broad Street Run. The 10-mile course mirrored Buschel’s journey, starting at Central High School in Olney and finishing at the Navy Yard in South Philadelphia. Along the way, I took in Buschel’s cross-section of Philadelphia. The sights provided a stunning reminder of the two cities that define our Philadelphia: one, a bustling cosmopolitan city, and the other, a struggling post-industrial city.
Yet, my trek down Buschel’s Road of Realities led me to quite different conclusions than his. While the course vividly illustrated how far Philadelphia has to go to narrow the gap between its conflicting identities, it also bore witness to substantial progress already being made. More inspiring, however, was the clear civic spirit exhibited by participants, volunteers, and supporters. This was my lasting impression of Broad Street: an overwhelming and infectious enthusiasm that cut across both “Philadelphias.”
From start to finish, the Broad Street Run reminded me that the next chapter in Philadelphia’s history has not yet been written. As participants in the city’s future, we get to write it ourselves. It is up to Philadelphians to determine whether this chapter laments Broad Street as a road of forgone realities or embraces it as one of realized dreams.
SEPTA Broad Street Line, Spring Garden Station: 7:30 a.m.
My roommate and I reach SEPTA’s Broad Street Subway station at Spring Garden Street. A northbound local arrives at the platform—filled to capacity. Somehow, riders are able to reposition themselves to allow two more runners into the subway car.
Somerville Avenue and Broad Street: 8:15 a.m.
After a quick warm-up at Central High School, we go to the starting line. Within minutes, I am shaking hands with Mayor Michael Nutter who is working his way through the crowd in a bright blue Independence Blue Cross jumpsuit. From behind me, I hear someone tell the Mayor, “thank you.”
Starting Line: 8:30 a.m.
Just seconds before the race, Mayor Nutter takes the microphone and asks for a moment of silence for Philadelphia Sergeant Stephen Liczbinski, who was killed the day before. Nutter uses the occasion to commend the runners’ commitment to physical conditioning and to say that continually bettering ourselves is one way to begin combating the City’s crime epidemic.
Mile-Marker 1: 8:45 a.m.
The beginning of the run is crowded. Participants look to find both running space and friendly faces in a mob of thousands who stand this chilly Sunday morning to offer their encouragement. Among the most vocal supporters are dozens of parishioners standing on the top steps of a Broad Street church.
Mile-Marker 3: 9:00 a.m.
The pack of runners thins as I approach the first fluid station. Dozens of volunteers hold out cups of water and Gatorade and shout words of support. How difficult is it to drink from a cup while running? I spill most of the water all over myself.
Mile-Marker 5: 9:15 a.m.
It became clear that the excitement from the Philadelphia Flyers’ series-clinching 6-4 victory over the Montreal Canadiens the night before hasn’t worn off. Dozens of runners are donning bright orange shirts and hats, and a “Let’s Go, Flyers!” chant breaks out among runners.
Mile-Marker 7: 9:30 a.m.
Governor Ed Rendell is standing outside the Bellevue building on Broad Street at Walnut, clapping his hands and cheering runners. Excited to see my favorite “Eagles Postgame Live” football analyst in person, I take a short detour and give the Governor a high-five.
Mile-Marker 9: 9:45 a.m.
The sun breaks through the morning clouds as I reach the Sports Complex. The throng of supporters has grown in size and volume, including an amusing onlooker wearing a Phillies jersey tucked into a kilt. Exhausted, I begin my final kick to the finish. This was probably about a half-mile too early.
Finish Line: 9:55 a.m.
Thousands cheer as I enter the Navy Yard grounds and cross the finish line. A record 19,112 participants finish the race. Gathering my belongings, I realize that I now must walk nearly a full mile back to the subway station at Pattison Avenue, reinforcing the need for a Broad Street line extension to serve the Navy Yard.
SEPTA Broad Street Line, Pattison Avenue Station: 10:30 a.m.
On my lengthy post-run walk, I reflect on the sights and sounds of the morning. At the entrance to the station, my roommate asks how I did. Looking forward to what now promised to be a sun-soaked afternoon of relaxation, only one thought came to mind: “I love this city.”
--Erik Johanson, Research Associate
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