Recently there have been efforts to promote "the history of the Moravian South Side" of Bethlehem. This seems a fairly desperate ploy; and one wonders why the effort is being made--though it IS possible to speculate. For now, I intend to keep my speculations to myself.
The fact is, there was no Moravian South Side after about the mid-1840s.
It is true there was a Moravian church on the south side until 1962, when it and its whole neighborhood fell victim to Lehigh University's developmental thrust north of Packer Avenue. But in the early 1960s there were also on the South Side at least seven Roman Catholic churches, one Eastern Rite Catholic Church, one or two Orthodox churches, four Lutheran churches, one United Church of Christ, one Episcopalian, one Presbyterian,one Methodist, one African Methodist Episcopal,one German Baptist, plus an Orthodox Jewish synagogue, and a Conservative synagogue. Having written all this, I still fear I have forgotten some.
Did any of these churches claim to attach its name to the South Side? No; yet some of them might have had far more reason to do so than the Moravians--either because of their influence on the development of the neighborhood, because of the great number of their communicants, or both.
Why did the South Side cease to be Moravian in the 1840s? Because the Moravians disposed of their farms on the South Side for the purposes of establishing an industrial settlement where heavy industry might thrive. The result, then, was not accidental; it was planned. And it was definitely planned for profit--not that there is anything wrong with that, but why, years later, pretend things were different than they were?
What follows is an abridged quote from pages 12 and 13 of "Bethlehem of Pennsylvania: The Golden Years." The quote is abridged to save space; however, anyone who suspects I may have distorted the meaning is invited to go and look at the book and be reassured about its essential accuracy.
Here it is:
"...the business and civic leaders of the community saw clearly what was happening 'out there.' They wanted to benefit from the new industrial wealth. That meant bringing blast furnaces, manufactories,railroads, foreigners, strange religions, and much else to the vicinity of Bethlehem. At the same time, the Moravians wanted to preserve the old way of life...The solution was a new town,
conveniently located across the river Lehigh, yet organized separately from Bethlehem. Moravians had a tradition of forming new colonies...Only, this time the colony was to exist for economic, not religious reasons. It was to be a settlement without Moravians, excepting the few who found it convenient for business reasons to live in the south side."
That was the way of the founding of Bethlehem South, as South Bethlehem was originally known. At least, that was the way of it in the eyes of the Bethlehem Book Committee, which published the book from which I have been quoting.
Who was the Bethlehem Book Committee? It was a group of distinguished citizens, academics, editors, writers, historians, journalists, some Moravians, some not. I knew at least a couple of them personally. They seem to have taken their role in interpreting Bethlehem history in a straightforward way with great seriousness; and, for local history, their results seem distinguished. (Local history, like all history, is frequently a tug of war.)
One must then ask, whence comes this strange new interpration of South Side history--and why?
As I have suggested earlier, I am keeping my speculations to myself. For now.

No matter what anyone claims to think, the South Bethlehem Historical Society has only ever had one goal: To enrich the cultural and economic life of the community by developing an appreciation for the contributions of the South Side and its peoples. I (and, I am sure, others involved with SBHS) dreamed of a day when we would be accepted as full partners in Bethlehem's historic enterprise.
To me, a mark of full acceptance would have been acceptance by the Collegium. (Remember that? The loose-knit organization that was supposed to keep the city's historic boat afloat? It should have been enough of a structure to suit anyone whose real concern was progress and not power.)
Well, we WERE invited to join the Collegium; but only in what turned out to be that organization's final days. I suppose we should consider ourselves honored, because I don't think the Sun Inn Preservation Association ever WAS allowed to join. I may be wrong about this.
But the honor was in any case severely limited. I remember one occasion, on which I and my successor as president hiked across the bridge to help with a Collegium mailing. Lo and behold! Somebody had "forgotten" to put our organization's name on the mailing. You might call it "putting out the welcome moat." I insisted that our name be written on every single mailing piece; but I certainly was not happy.
This brings us to today, and today's Historic Bethlehem Partnership. All too ready, in my view, to be all too welcoming.
But that is an evolving story, and I hope to keep you abreast of it.

It was not until 1985--January 1, 1985, to be exact--that I began to take the steps that resulted in the South Bethlehem Historical Society. By then a lot of things had happened--for instance, Mrs. Bender and her friends succeeded in getting the 1758 Sun Inn refurbished and opened to the public--only to be met with what appears to be a rejectionist front from the historical establishment and the city that, as far as I can see, has continued to this day. I have never fully understood this situation, although some of it may have to do with the fact that the Inn is inconveniently located on some very valuable urban real estate. At one time, if memory serves, there were plans to put an urban high rise building there.
A few years later Burnside Plantation was rediscovered, and for some equally unknown reason (but perhaps just because it was NOT standing on some extremely valuable urban real estate at the moment), its discovery was greeted with great enthusiasm and restoration work began almost at once.
(By the way, anyone who wants to follow the Bethlehem history wars of the 1970s, 80s, and early 90s--until the lamented death of the paper--is invited to visit the Bethlehem Area Public Library, and read about it in the microfilm files of the Globe-Times. I am not making this stuff up, although it seems incredible when I look back on it.)
Everyone in the historical establishment continued to ignore the history of the South Side, though; and in my naivete I could not figure out why. I was happy with each new addition to the heritage scene, Sun Inn, Burnside, and all. It was obvious, too, that history had a fairly important role to play, was a key asset, in Bethlehem's economic future.
But interesting as all those organizations on the north side were, why could nobody see that the large-scale history, the really world-class history, was on the South Side?
There. I've gone on the record after all these years. And why do I think this way? Because world-class history is history that affects the lives of millions, not just thousands. And it was on the South Side, home to some of the most brilliant and dedicated entrepreneurs in American history, and to skilled, intelligent, and untiring workers from several continents, that this type of history was made. The South Side, with its great industrial output, was destiny's anvil.
The men and women who worked in Steel helped turn back tyranny twice in the 20th century and helped shape the skyline of America. During the Second World War, they too were part of the Greatest Generation.
Their like--and their particular contribution--is unlikely ever to be seen again.
It was too much that this contribution should never be recognized; and so the South Bethlehem Historical Society was founded. It was not designed to be about the giant industry on the South Side of the river, but about the community that grew up around it on land sold off by the Moravians of the north side--the industrial workers, shopkeepers, wives, children, clergy, and so on.
And how did I expect the historical establishment to feel about this?
Frankly, I expected it to be overjoyed. I had made an effort to dust off a neglected area of the city's history, and Bethlehem could now be seen to represent three centuries of America. It could be a great source of pride; it would make for great marketing, too.
Well, I was wrong about their reaction. Come by next time for more.

Meanwhile, you might want to read Bernie O'Hare's very different blog, Lehigh Valley Ramblings. You'll find it at http://www.lehighvalleyramblings.blogspot.com

Sorry I am still off schedule. I hope to get back on soon. Meanwhile...
Some people have expressed an interest in Bethlehem historical organizations, how they relate to each other, and how they help (or do not help) interpret the history of the city. I am the founder of one of those organizations, the South Bethlehem Historical Society, which has been around since 1985--although it has kept a lower and lower profile for reasons which I think will become clear later on. Herewith is my take on matters historical in the Christmas City.
When I came here (late 1972, I think, which is long enough ago to make me something of a historical relic in my own right), we were gearing up for the bicentennial of the American Revolution, and things were quite exciting, what with events, and reenactments and reenactors all over.
At the time there was no Historic Bethlehem Partnership. Nor was there a Burnside Plantation. Nor was there a restored Sun Inn, although if my memory is correct the energetic Hughetta Bender was already working on that challenge. There was Historic Bethlehem Inc., which was quartered in the old Single Brethren's House at the foot of Main Street, which mainly ran the 18th century tannery down by the Monocacy Creek, and which was working on other acquisitions. (There is an "official" terminology for these things, but I have forgotten it. In the last analysis it does not matter. Probably most Bethlehemites will know the buildings I mean.)
In addition to HBI, there were the Kemerer Museum, which specialized in decorative arts, and the Moravian Museum, a church institution which encompassed the founding and heritage of Moravian Bethlehem. Both of these were independent.
From the time I arrived here to work for the Bethlehem Globe-Times I also went to work (though only briefly, because of the shift I was working at the paper) as a volunteer for Historic Bethlehem Inc. Soon I moved to the South Side, to be nearer to the Globe-Times office.
So I became aware of the South Side, which both frightened and interested me. (I soon lost the fright, which I realized was unjustified.)
And one day I asked, in the HBI offices, "Why aren't we doing anything on the South Side?"
Back came the reply, from a young staff member, "Because nothing historical ever happened there."
I was surprised; but I shrugged it off. Although I didn't realize it. this was probably my first formal contact with what might be called the great third rail of Bethlehem's intellectual and spiritual life--the chasm which divided the immigrants of the South Side and their descendants from the descendants of the 18th century Moravian immigrants who settled on the north side.
Anyone who does not believe this rift was and (I fear) still is real is invited to go to the library and read the two-volume semi-official history of the town, "Bethlehem of Pennsylvania" and "Bethlehem of Pennsylvania: The Golden Years." In fact, the rifts recorded just among the residents of the original north side settlement are amazing in themselves.
To return, however, to the status of the historic organizations when I came here. There was around that time a loose organization called the Collegium, whose apparent function was to guide all the historic organizations in the interpretation of the city's history for visitors. To me it seemed like a perfect setup for fraternal cooperation in a worthy common aim.
I had not yet learned the First Law of Local History--ANYBODY'S local history.
That law is: "History is a contact sport."
This somewhat lengthy story will be continued in my next posting.