County Seat

Speak of "removal" in Chester today, and folks immediately hearken to the last year's political changes in City Hall or recent efforts to unseat a controversial school superintendent. Almost lost in time is the fact that twice in the distant past, when Chester was still a borough, it fell victim to removal movements that stripped the colonial hamlet of its crowning glory - the county seat. Both movements were heatedly opposed by local residents, particularly lawyers, tavern owners and others with a business interest in the location of county government.

It may be up to a judge to decide whether the computer commentary on the County Seat electronic bulletin board is the work of investigative journalists, a bunch of old gossips, or some bitter politicians committing hit-and-runs on the information superhighway. In the year or so since the County Seat made its debut on local computers, contributors - in increasingly combative fashion - have poked fun at the district attorney, called some borough employees miscreants, issued calls to impeach Norristown's mayor, and accused a former councilman of accepting bribes.

Historic Woodbury, a county seat struggling with decline, could face an even bigger blow if it loses the Gloucester County justice center in a battle now raging among county, city and state officials. County freeholders are threatening to move the criminal courts out of the city, which would make Woodbury the only county seat in New Jersey - and possibly the nation - without a criminal courthouse. Woodbury officials fear moving the criminal courts would trigger an identity crisis and sound the death knell for the 153-year-old town's troubled revitalization efforts.

For 90 years, from the late 18th to the second half of the 19th centuries, there was a local political struggle over the fate of Montgomery County. The battle, directed by business and civic leaders in Norristown and Pottstown, was over the creation of a new county unit carved out of three existing counties. It was called the Madison County movement. While the area that now constitutes Montgomery County was first settled in the late 17th century, it was part of Philadelphia during all of the colonial period.

Toting camcorders and cameras, Montgomery County officials and a handful of paid consultants boarded an oversize van yesterday to get a firsthand look at the county seat. It was a crash course of sorts for those hired to rejuvenate the once-bustling industrial hub. By tomorrow, the group is expected to share a preliminary action plan with local residents that aims to attract business, housing and recreation to their community. The county commissioners put the effort on a fast track earlier this month, with the hope that some progress could be made before their terms expire at the end of the year.

Vying for support from the Republican stronghold in Delaware County, U.S. Sen. Arlen Specter and the man who wants to replace him, State Rep. Steven F. Freind, reported to the county seat Tuesday. Before the county council's regular meeting, Specter presented county officials with a $2.5 million check from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development to be used for "special needs" housing throughout the county. At noon, Freind, who sported a green tie for St. Patrick's Day, dropped by to participate in a rally urging the passage of bills establishing a way to sanction U.S. firms using unfair labor practices in dealings in Northern Ireland.

Many people look at the borough and see a cycle of urban decay, replete with crime, vacant buildings, and a shrinking population. But when Payson Burt and Jim Williams look at Norristown, they see an opportunity for economic growth, harnessing the borough's historic architecture, riverfront, and central location in prosperous Montgomery County. Both men are part of the Norristown Initiative, a group created by the Montgomery County commissioners in 1997 to help revive the county seat.

The County isn't dead yet. The old-time Doylestown movie house is being rescued from the grave again, the second time in less than three years. A nonprofit group of film buffs has signed a six-year lease and, beginning Feb. 3, intends to show art films that up to now have been available in this region mostly at the two Ritz theaters in Philadelphia. The County had been a fixture in Doylestown, one of the few lights shining in the county seat after dark. "One thing that happens to many towns that are seats of government is that people disappear after 5 o'clock, because there's not much to keep them there," said Robert Moore, director of the Bucks County Planning Commission.

For the last 77 years, the bronze standard-bearer in front of the Chester County courthouse has had a ringside seat for West Chester's passing scene. Titled Old Glory, the heroic figure holding an American flag is the centerpiece of a downtown that has maintained much of its architectural style while changing in function and feel. Known as the "Athens of Pennsylvania," West Chester has banks that look as banks should - massive marble structures with Doric and Ionic columns, places where you feel safe putting your money.

Mike and Cathy Norris enjoy walking into downtown West Chester to shop or hear good jazz, so they bypassed developments in Chester County in favor of a restored 1905 twin in the quaint tree-lined borough. "We bought it the day after the For Sale sign went up," said Mike Norris, a music teacher. "We wanted to have a place in West Chester. " In this small town, "you do get to know your neighbors," he said. "It's a great place to live. " The 1.8-square-mile county seat is known for a wealth of historical architecture, year-round festivals, and diversity of neighborhoods.

ALLENTOWN - Paul Sorvino might finally be over his trouble with The Trouble with Cali . With $500,000 in taxpayer funding, the first-time director and Goodfellas star shot the independent film in northeastern Pennsylvania six years ago. But the project ran short of cash, and Scranton politicians demanded to know what he did with their investment. Sorvino, in turn, was stunned and hurt that anyone would question his integrity. He's hoping all that's in the past now that his project is about to get its first screening, Tuesday at Arizona's Sedona Film Festival.

In Delaware County, where Republicans have had a 32-year lock on county government, the question this year is whether Democrats can loosen that stranglehold. Up for grabs are three out of five County Council seats, the office of district attorney, and five Court of Common Pleas judgeships. Though it has held sway in Delaware County for decades, the GOP has seen its base slip dramatically over time, from 78 percent of registered voters in 1970 to 45 percent this year, just two percentage points ahead of the Democrats.

Far from Center City or Off-Broadway or any of the places where you'd most expect it, an experiment in the avant-garde is under way in gritty, workaday Norristown. There in the county seat not necessarily known for its edgy cultural offerings, theatergoers are being exposed to full frontal nudity. Everyone involved concedes that while that sort of thing wouldn't rate a mention in New York, for Norristown, it is different. "You don't expect to see this in Norristown," said Erin Reilly, artistic director of Theatre Horizon, the fledgling company staging the play.

People often think of Chicago as the heart of the country, New York the cultural hub, Washington the seat of all things political. But the one true center? Plato, Mo., population 109. As of last week, with an official announcement by the federal government, little Plato claimed the mantle of what the Census Bureau calls the Mean Center of Population. Imagine the United States as a flat, floating plane, and that each of its 308 million inhabitants weighed exactly the same. The mean center is the point at which that flat plane, loaded with people, would be perfectly balanced if placed atop a stick.

It was one of those resolutions in the middle of a half-empty Montgomery County commissioners meeting that might normally have passed without notice: A county health administrator on Thursday asked the commissioners to authorize using $161,000 in federal grants to educate and assist pregnant women at a Norristown hospital. The initiative was a decade old, and has never cost the county any money. As he has before, Commission Chairman James Matthews voted for the program.

It was one of those resolutions in the middle of a half-empty Montgomery County commissioners meeting that might normally have passed without notice: A county health administrator on Thursday asked the commissioners to authorize using $161,000 in federal grants to educate and assist pregnant women at a Norristown hospital. The initiative was a decade old, and has never cost the county any money. As he has before, Commission Chairman James Matthews voted for the program. But he did so only after launching into an inquiry that seemed less about aid to a small group of women than the county's future.

Why is state Rep. Mario Civera really refusing to leave Harrisburg? It's not for the nightlife, or those scenic drives along the Pennsylvania Turnpike. In part, it's pure politics, the Upper Darby Republican acknowledged yesterday. Civera, who was elected in November to Delaware County Council, initially indicated that he would resign from the House upon taking the county seat. Last week, Civera was sworn-in to Council, but he decided to temporarily continue serving in Harrisburg, saying he needed to assist with the casino table-game legislation and budget issues as minority chairman of the House Appropriations Committee.

When Rep. Mario Civera (R., Delaware) announced that he was running for Delaware County Council in February, many wondered why he'd leave the state House and the powerful position he held there. Now, having won the county seat, he apparently isn't leaving the state office - at least not yet. Civera, who is to be sworn in to his council seat on Jan. 4, said through a spokesman this week that he did intend to vacate the House seat he's held since 1980; he just wouldn't say when.

In the three centuries since the French-Irish Doyle (formerly D'Ouilli) family settled its land grant from William Penn, Doylestown has gone through a number of transformations. George Washington and his colonials tromped through on their way to beat up on the British. It became the Bucks County seat soon afterward and had some hope of rivaling Philadelphia as a center of the action in these parts. Instead, it built itself into a combination of a manufacturing and a farming center, with a prominent agricultural educational institution, now Delaware Valley College.

Democrats have made steady gains in the Pennsylvania suburbs, but Republicans still rule Delaware County. They control the vast majority of the 49 municipalities, the row offices, and the judgeships, and have had a lock on County Council for 30 years. In an odd-year election with no high-profile contests expected to alter the typical 30 percent turnout, Republicans are confident they'll maintain control, said Thomas J. Judge Sr., chairman of the county GOP. But Democrats are betting that more party loyalists will vote this year, in part because last year's presidential election fired up the base and reaped more Democratic registrations than the party had ever seen.