Call it borough hall-lessness. Call it cramped. But remember one thing: The last time there was an official Borough Hall was two stock market crashes ago, a year before the Babe bashed his 60th homer and a president named Coolidge lived down in D.C.
1926.
But now that the police have moved into a $3,500 addition at 1 Park Ave., which was nearing completion last week, the Borough Council will no longer be sharing space with Madsen and his crew.
"They would get upset if we brought a prisoner in," Madsen said,
recalling some awkward moments in his 12-year law enforcement career. "We were always bumping into each other. It's quite an asset having the new station. But right now, everywhere you go everything is covered with white dust."
All parties agree that moving in last week wasn't difficult at all. After all, the police equipment was simply carried a few feet into the new room. And as for the borough government setting up permanent shop in the old police station?
Well, let's just say public administration tends not to become a hulking bureaucracy when it serves a mere 2,818 constituents living on three-tenths of a square mile.
That's what state census data says about the town tucked in a nook between Northeast Philadelphia and Abington. But the person who probably knows more about the borough with a new hall than anyone else is Joan Denelsbeck, the town secretary. For years, she has kept practically all the town records at her home: Bills. Receipts. Meeting minutes.
But Denelsbeck, who will continue to work out of her home, said many of the records wouldn't be found in the new Borough Hall.
"I can't run up the street two blocks every time I need something," she said. "So it's (the borough's files) still gonna stay here. I don't think anything's gonna change from what's up there now, except maybe a couple of pieces of furniture that's better than what's up there now."
