Friday Night Lights Upgrade

If you've recently driven near North Penn High School, on Summneytown Pike, you may have noticed a few things, a few large things. It seems as, if overnight, demolition and earth moving vehicles moved in across the grassy plain and began to go to work. Metal teeth and thick tracks of tread began digging into what was once the running track and end zone in Crawford Stadium. Within a few days, all that was left of the field was reduced to dirt and clay. 

The Crawford Stadium lights meant the weekend was here. Football season had started, and it was a meeting point to the start of your Friday night plans. Whether you sat in the student section, stood along the fencing, or simply strolled the stadium, you made it a point to be there. 

It all started in the parking lot: the walk along the High School, families keeping a weekly tradition alive, the sound of young kids playing football just outside the stadium, and the sun beginning to settle. All of which we never noticed until now. Some of us have made that same walk this past year, but we did it with a different mindset and different eyes. We, the ones who met our friends there, are now the families taking the same path amongst a new generation. 

The funny thing about nostalgia is that it strikes at the rarest of moments, at least for me it does. This year, I was able to take my son to a football game. He was eight years old and asked questions about my time at the High School. As we began to walk into the stadium, memories began to flood my brain. I remembered the events, friends, and moments in time that I hadn't thought about in years. Suddenly, the walk towards the stadium took on a new meaning. Suddenly, I realized that I was part of a community with strong family values and a love for tradition. 

We stood outside the stadium and watched the North Penn football team take the walk in. My son was standing with his hand up looking to catch a high-five. Not one player missed his hand. We walked into the stadium tailing the last football player, when suddenly a friend, a close friend, sitting with her family texted me. "Hey, We're at the game, if you are around come to the game, we're sitting in this section, three rows from the top." I gladly responded, "I just walked in; see you in a minute."

My son gazed at the football field, his eyes rapidly processing his surroundings with more questions forming in his head. We approached the fencing along the track, walked down a few sections, and I began looking for my friend and her family. The sounds of the bleachers rang with varied conversations and small talk; "What are you doing after this?", "Where are we going?", "Who's having people over?" As I looked up top, I saw my friend smiling and waving. I walked up the bleachers, my son in front of me looking over his shoulder trying to see everything that was going on. 

We sat. The announcer turned on his microphone and the stadium speakers crackled in the way that old speakers do. We all know that noise. It was game time. The Knights took the field, a magnificent sunset painted the skies in blues, pinks, and reds, a battle ensued on the football field. I sat there like I did twenty two years ago, amongst friends, not knowing that a small routine had made itself a tradition. 

So, here's to improving and upgrading Crawford Stadium. A stadium that was built in the early 1970's and lasted nearly 50 years has now become a place of tradition, a symbol of our community, Lansdale. 

Written by Erik Sacony / Headway Art Collective