‘Our city is losing a big part of its heart’: Philadelphians mourn the closure of the Academy of Natural Sciences’ museum

Within hours of the announcement of that the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University would close its museum, Philadelphians across generations found themselves reeling and reminiscing about staring wide-eyed at taxidermied bison and petrified bugs.

The museum opened in 1828, and moved to its current location on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in 1876. Its last day with regular hours for the public will be Sunday, Sept. 27.

For some, the greatest loss was the sense of wonder children get when they peruse the museum, see bugs squirm, explore enormous nest displays and dioramas and, of course, lay eyes on the gigantic dinosaur skeleton.

“I’ll always remember the first time I went to the museum and I saw the dinosaur bones,” said Sakura Okuri, a 53-year-old retired FBI special agent who grew up in Germantown. “I’m just sorry that young kids aren’t going to be able to have that memory.”

Okuri, who now lives outside Pittsburgh, took comfort in knowing that if he missed something in one of the rich, expansive exhibits he’d have another chance because “it would always be there for me,” he said. “Apparently that’s not the case.”

The news landed hard for 9-year-old Mira Thompson, who was leaving the Free Library of Philadelphia’s Parkway Central branch with her dad Tuesday afternoon when she got word. She’d gone to the Academy museum on multiple school field trips recently and was looking forward to more visits.

“That’s where I learned about pH testing last year,” Thompson said. “I didn’t know how to do that before going. I’m going to miss just being there.”

For many, it was a site of family bonding. Temple University senior Sean McClendon recalled fond memories there with his Opa, his grandfather, who worked at the museum taking care of owls and birds. Michael Ginsberg, a 60-year-old Northeast Philly native, remembers zealously volunteering to hold a hissing cockroach during a presentation at the museum to “get a rise out of my daughter.”

“My wife was not a fan of that,” he recalled. “‘Go wash your hands,’” she instructed.

Ginsberg’s dad took him there when he was in first grade. Seeing the dinosaur bones in real life was a thrill after only knowing them on the pages of library books. He was shocked to see they were brown and not white like in renderings.

When he became a dad, himself, he started bringing his daughter.

“Dad, why are all the animals dead?” he remembered his then-toddler asking.

“They’re stuffed, hon,” he explained to her. “It’s a really cool art. It’s a way to get you closer. Just trust me, this is really cool stuff.”

The plan, ultimately, is to relocate the Academy’s collections and sell the building, which has a lot of deferred maintenance needs, said a source close to the talks between Drexel and the Academy, who asked not to be identified.

Online, tributes poured in. Some said the museum inspired them to study museum education, others brought their kids there when they learned to walk, they said, or when the air-conditioning in their homes broke in the summer. Some parents considered it a seminal part of parenthood in Philadelphia; others relayed fond memories of bringing their kids with disabilities to the sensory friendly hour.

Kim Lynne, from Drexel Hill, often brought her 18-year-old son, Ethan, who is on the autism spectrum, to the museum starting around age 3. He appreciated the dinosaurs and bugs; she appreciated the discount Ethan’s medical needs access card granted them on the admission fee.

“He loved the third floor where they had the children’s area, the insects,” Lynne said. “He was into it early on.”

Colleen Hall, 45, often marveled at the museum when she passed by it during her years at Philadelphia Community College. She then ventured in for social events and was wowed by the dinosaurs, butterflies, and polar bears. She enrolled at St. Joseph’s Museum and Cultural Heritage education graduate program in hopes of working there one day.

It’s hard to wrap her mind around the notion that the museum is really closing.

“My brain just isn’t going there yet,” she said when asked how she felt about the closure.

“It’s not the 11th hour yet,” she added.

For longtime Philadelphians, the loss of the museum marks another step in the city losing its character as shiny new facades slowly replace the old and storied institutions closing their doors.

“We are losing some of the things that make us a historic city,” said McClendon, the Temple senior. “I think that’s really something that’s part of Philly’s brand or image, not just cheesesteaks, and I think people might forget how much history there is because it’s so modernized.”

To those who’ve gone with parents and kids like Ginsberg, the facility is a generational treasure and one of the few places that Philadelphians of all ages, races, and socio-economic classes can enjoy.

“Our city is losing a big part of its heart,” he said.