Daniel Rubin | When 'forever' is inconvenient

Councilman Jack Kelly made it sound so simple.

For two hours on Monday, Fox Chase Cancer Center had presented a powerful case: It had to expand so it could treat more sick people and attract world-class scientists. The ideal solution lay next door - Burholme Park - a jumble of attractions, including a driving range, batting cages, ball fields and a hilltop museum.

Now Kelly peered at the elegant man at the witness table, Gerald Waln, whose ancestors had named Burholme after their English manor and left the land to the city on the condition that it remain a park.

Kelly growled, "So you're saying it's more important to have someone hit out a golf ball than expanding a first-class institution in our city?"

Waln, who had been talking about honor and sledding and family lore, was left speechless. "That's not what I said," he sputtered.

If it were that simple, Fox Chase Cancer Center would not have needed 80 community meetings to sell its plan to the community.

They would not have needed so much muscle in gray flannel to testify on their behalf, from Mark Schweiker, the former governor who heads the city's Chamber of Commerce, to William Avery, the chairman of Fox Chase's board and a former cancer patient, who mentioned how after three years of negotiations his board is impatient.

Or the row after row of regular Joes who hoisted signs in City Hall chambers like, "Fox Chase Saves Lives."

(My hopes of getting a few human-interest stories from the crowd dimmed when I realized they were members of the Laborers Union, which would benefit from the construction work.)

Council members will discuss the bill next Thursday. Should they pass it, next stop is Orphan's Court, where some civic groups and neighbors will argue that when Robert Waln Ryerss' will stated that the park should remain "for the use and enjoyment of the people forever," it meant

forever

.

Attorneys on both sides say the case hinges on what's really in the public interest.

Carl S. Primavera, counsel for Fox Chase, says the present facility is too cramped; cancer patients line the halls and have to endure month-long waits for appointments.

The city, he says, needs to keep the center, which has produced two Nobel laureates and the second-most jobs in Northeast Philadelphia.

Samuel C. Stretton is representing the opponents for free. Stretton, who grew up in Frankford and used to play in the park, says it's a rare jewel in a crowded corner of the city. The cancer center, he says, could build elsewhere.

But not as effectively, Primavera counters. Building next door would multiply the number of scientists working together, which can create the sort of "spontaneous combustion" of ideas that leads to medical breakthroughs to fight cancer.

This issue hits home for me. Yesterday, my wife finished 20 days of radiation treatment at Fox Chase for basal-cell skin cancer that invaded her nerves. It's a blessing to have the center so close by. (And yes, we expect she'll be fine.)

And in fullest disclosure, my sons used to love miniature golf at Burholme. My dad and I have enjoyed the park on lazy afternoons.

I'm troubled by the city's decision to hand over the public space. Parks are precious, the sort of gifts you shouldn't return. And wills should not be broken, unless the times - or federal law - make them untenable, such as Stephen Girard's condition that his money be used to educate only white males.

In the newspaper's library, I came across an Inquirer clipping from 1956 that suggests a compromise, though neither side welcomes it.

The park, it states, is really two pieces of land - the 58 acres left by Ryerss and an adjoining 21-acre parcel bought from his widow in 1915.

Primavera says that Fox Chase's architects tried every available option including fitting the expansion on the widow's parcel - which isn't restricted like the original piece. It's mostly wooded, and a creek runs through it. "If it was that easy," he says, "we would have done it."

Judge John Herron will get to sift through the facts should Council pass the bill. I was surprised to find the plan sail through the committee without reservation.

Councilman Bill Greenlee asked, "Doesn't it come into play at some point what they do? They're trying to cure cancer. It's not Wal-Mart. It's not Applebee's."

True.

But I could identify with Waln when he asked: If wills can be broken with such disregard, why would anyone leave something special to the city?