Back at camp: the continuing revival at Malaga

So... I left the house this morning thinking I was on a somewhat religious journey, but I ran into something I didn't expect.

I was on my own. Ivan was out on a separate birding adventure, so I chose to do some exploring in parts somewhat lesser known. Ever since my trip to Upper Deerfield Township to learn about Seabrook Farms, I've been curious about other agricultural developments in the area, particularly a group of settlements of Jewish farmers in Salem and Gloucester Counties. Their names - Norma, Brotmanville, Rosenhayn, Alliance - are still on the map more than 100 years after their founding, but they're not as easily located via road trip, as I found out today.

Thing is, when you wander around the southern reaches of the state, particularly in those more rural counties, a wrong turn becomes another adventure all together. Looking for what may be the world's smallest synagogue, I got all turned around and ended up on Route 47 in Malaga.

Just as interesting as a tiny shul, I discovered a colony of small houses set on narrow streets that could only be one thing: a Methodist camp meeting ground. Yup, I'd found Malaga Camp, since 1869 the location of the West Jersey Grove Association. The exteriors of the homes are a bit less colorful than what we'd seen at Mount Tabor, and the narrow streets are in a grid rather than the spoke-and-wheel arrangement at Pitman Grove, but the central tabernacle made it clear that this is a place where people come to worship.

Like the other two camps, Malaga started as a summertime revival tent community. Unlike Mount Tabor and Pitman Grove, however, it's retained its original purpose as a place of reverence by strictly managing the composition of its population.

Those who purchase cottages in the camp are required to meet three requirements, as set forth in the membership process: they must give testimony of their personal salvation in the Lord Jesus Christ, be an active member of a church for at least two years, and have been actively involved in the life and work of the camp meeting for at least one year. References are requested and checked, and applicants must undergo an interview with a committee of members. When approved, an applicant can purchase a cottage, leasing the property below from the camp association. 

Only about half of the 140 houses are kept as year-round residences, allowing the camp association to maintain the small-town feel by avoiding overcrowding. Bylaws forbid property owners from renting to non-members, but a guest house on the property is available for visitors, families and retreat groups. As I was driving around the community, I constantly had to stop at four-way intersections at the end of short blocks, so I wasn't surprised to learn that many people use golf carts to get around during summer months.

After a little bit of exploring by car, I felt I needed to let Malaga back to its peace for a spring Saturday. I'd seen one person -- another motorist who approached an intersection the same time I did -- and she'd kindly waved me forward ahead of her. Having found these tiny houses on a small tract on the side of the road, and maybe gotten a little heavenly nudge in the right direction, I headed off to find that little shul.

The surprise on the hill: Mt. Tabor's Camp Meeting past

Road tripping can take various forms, depending on what you want to find and what kind of hassles you hope to avoid. On a recent trip, we decided to avoid major highways as much as possible, preferring to take our chances on the one- and two-lane roads in Morris County. We figured that what we'd lose in speed, we'd gain in sightings.

The temperature, however, wasn't helping. A several days-long cold snap had frozen most of the lakes and waterways we passed, leaving them bereft of ducks. This obviously wasn't going to be a big birding day.

After a bit, we found ourselves on State Route 53, driving alongside a big hill in Parsippany. We were about to pass without stopping, until Ivan noticed a red county historical marker and an archway that spelled out "Mount Tabor" over an entrance road. Okay, this needs to be checked out. We found the first available road up the hill, passing a Methodist church and a host of tiny brightly-colored Victorian-style cottages. While the streets were too narrow to accommodate parking, we found a more open, town square-type area where there was space next to what appeared to be a public structure, also impeccably painted.

How did I not know about this place, which was clearly a well-tended blast from the past?

The street names gave me a clue of what we'd stumbled upon: Asbury, Pitman, Wesley. Just when I thought I had a decent handle on the Methodist Camp Meeting communities around the state, here's another one. The best known, of course, is Ocean Grove, but we'd already found evidence of gatherings at National Park and Pitman Grove on previous jaunts. Starting in the 1860s, these camps were established in then-idyllic areas to provide worshippers with a peaceful, pleasant setting in which to get closer to their maker during a week or two each summer.

Mount Tabor was founded in 1869, about the same time as Ocean Grove, and three octagonal buildings were erected as worship space around the centrally-located Trinity Park. Nearby Tabor Lake and wooded glens offered places to stroll and enjoy nature with friends and family, far from the cities where most of the attendees lived.

As Ocean Grove summer residents still do, Mount Tabor attendees originally erected tents on small lots rented from the local Camp Meeting Association. Over time, though, the more moneyed members of the summer community started building cottages on the 16 by 32 foot lots, ensuring that their time in the countryside was as comfortable as possible. One of the CMA trustees later built a hotel to accommodate those who lacked cottages but still didn't want to live in tents. Eventually, over 200 structures were built for summer residents.

Like other camp meetings over the years, Mount Tabor's grew dramatically and eventually diminished to a smaller community of permanent residents. Cottage owners entered into 99-year and then perpetual leases for the land beneath their homes, with the current rent ranging from two to four dollars a year depending on the size of the lot. During the Great Depression, more people began to winterize their houses for year-round use, as many chose to leave their year-round dwellings for their smaller, more economical Tabor cottages. Streets were paved in the 1940s, and a new Methodist church was built with the help of members and non-members alike. Notably, the congregants decided to place their new house of worship away from the center of the community as a gesture to welcome worshippers from outside Tabor.

Today, that church is the only official representation of Methodism on Mount Tabor, as the community is largely secular and now part of surrounding Parsippany-Troy Hills. The Camp Meeting Association still exists as a homeowners association, with offices in the building that also houses the fire department and post office. That said, residents are as close-knit as ever, celebrating their heritage with the traditional Children's Day and annual house tours in addition to other activities. The local historical society is working to have Mount Tabor listed on the National and State Registers of Historic Places, further raising its stature among those districts worthy of note and preservation.

As you walk around Mount Tabor, you can't help but think that this is the kind of community that developers strive for and fail to create when they build developments on old farmland or clear-cut woods. There's a sense of closeness and belonging that has to be nurtured over time, based on a mutual desire for something good. You can't just manufacture that from whole cloth.

Pitman Grove: getting that old time religion

You wouldn't know it from its sedate downtown today, but Pitman was once such a popular summer destination that more than a dozen trains a day would bring visitors to enjoy the town's offerings. I discovered the primary reason for that on my recent Gloucester County jaunt, one day before the much-vaunted December 12, 2012. As it turned out, the number 12 was significant to my visit.

You'll find the community of Pitman Grove just off Broadway, marked by a simple metal arch. Stroll down the walkway and you'll find yourself on First Avenue, one of the twelve sidewalks that radiates from the community's literal and spiritual hub, a trellised open-air church, or tabernacle. Each of these streets is meant to represent one of Jesus' disciples. On either side of each narrow pathway are tiny houses on 30x40 foot lots, many decked in Victorian gingerbread and happy pastel shades.

By now you're probably sensing a religious theme, and you're spot on. Pitman Grove is a relic of the Camp Meeting movement that took hold in America following the Civil War. Protestants - in this case, Methodists - would unite in tent settlements for a few weeks in the summer to attend religious services and share fellowship in a rustic setting. Here in New Jersey, the most famous example is the still-in-operation Ocean Grove, though retreats were also established in National Park and other then-idyllic spots.

A small group of ministers established this particular camp meeting in what was then Mantua, both for its peaceful rural location and convenient rail access. They named the community in honor of Reverend Charles Pitman, a prominent preacher of the time, and the name recognition probably didn't hurt attendance. More than 10,000 people were drawn to the grove for services, prompting the camp meeting association to purchase 70 acres of land and sell or rent small lots where the faithful could pitch their tents.

Community members eventually started to build summer cottages on their lots, and a town grew up around them, with a store, restaurants, a barber, ice cream parlor and more. Pitman incorporated as a borough in 1905, and consistent with residents' religious values, the purchase of alcohol was forbidden in town. According to the borough website, "Pitman was known as a place with no mosquitoes, no malaria and no saloons. To this day, Pitman is a dry town with no liquor stores and no liquor licenses issued. We do, however, have our fair share of mosquitoes!" Some problems just can't be eliminated by statute.

Like many other communities of its type, Pitman Grove eventually came on hard times, prompting the borough to take on about 50 of the properties in the 1970s when the Camp Association couldn't pay the taxes. Many of the homes weren't built for year round use, and some of the more decrepit ones were demolished while others were improved and rented out or auctioned off. The town also invested in upgraded infrastructure, clearly seeing the value in keeping the community viable. On my stroll, I noticed a sign on one house that announced it had been winterized, its utilities shut off maybe until next summer, so I suspect a few of the properties are still seasonal homes.

I don't know if Grove residents are still predominantly worshipers, but I noticed several "Keep Christ in Christmas" signs in front of a few of the cottages. Services are still held at the restored tabernacle during the summer, so I guess the Grove is still a desirable location for the faithful, at least in the summer.

When is a National Park not a National Park?

Head down I-295 in South Jersey near Philly and you'll eventually run into a confusing road sign.

Red Bank / National Park

Wait, did I read that right? Red Bank is in Monmouth County, near the shore. And it's not a national park. I'm certain of that. What's the deal with this very confusing nomenclature? Ivan and I decided to find out on our recent southbound jaunt.

Taking the designated exit, it wasn't long before we were greeted by a "Welcome to National Park" sign and a host of businesses named National Park this or that. However, nobody seemed to be wearing the distinctive National Park Service ranger hat or arrowhead. We eventually found our way to the Red Bank Battlefield, but that's another story. Let's get to the bottom of the National Park story first.

Located on the Delaware River across from Philadelphia, this tiny borough was originally part of West Deptford. It became the site of a Methodist Episcopal religious resort community in 1895, and was known as the National Park on the Delaware after the organizing group, the National Park Association. The organizers divided the area into plots of land that were sold to believers who came to the community to worship and learn more about their faith. The summer settlers created an association that incorporated the site as a municipality in 1902.

The community became more popular -- and more diverse -- after the opening of an amusement park and the establishment of ferry service from Philadelphia. Many Irish Catholics came from the city to enjoy National Park's beaches, fishing and amusements, and the original Methodists were no longer the dominant group in town. Eventually, with the onset of World War II and the booming shipbuilding industry on the Delaware, many of the remaining summer cottages were converted to year-round residences. National Park's transformation was complete.

It may not be a national monument, with only about 3200 residents, National Park gives visitors the sense of small town America, despite the proximity of a major interstate and one of the country's largest cities. In an upcoming post, we'll talk a little more about the Revolutionary War connection.