Our Slice of the American Experiment
- 3 days ago
- 4 min read
by Kevin C. Wells
[Originally published in the Spring 2026 issue of Mount Gretna Magazine. View the full issue to see this story in its designed layout, complete with additional images.]

On a summer evening in Mount Gretna, a concert begins under the open beams of the Tabernacle. Audience members line their chairs around the perimeter. Neighbors greet one another by name. Children weave between porches and pews. It may not look like a constitutional convention, but in its own small and persistent way, it is the American experiment in action.
As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary this summer, historic places like Philadelphia will get attention for foundational ideals first articulated in 1776. Yet democracy has never depended solely on national capitals. It survives in towns and neighborhoods where people practice self-government face-to-face. In Gretna, associations, traditions, volunteer efforts, and even tensions reveal how the American experiment continues in daily life.
From the beginning, the American project has unfolded more through aspiration than certainty. The nation’s founders described principles of equality, natural rights, and self-government, but they did not resolve once and for all what those ideas would require. Each generation must interpret, debate, and practice them anew.
Political theorist Hannah Arendt wrote that freedom is not something a nation possesses; it comes into being when people step into public life and take responsibility for the world they share. Democracy, in this sense, depends on citizens who are willing to be visible, to deliberate in public, and to accept the consequences of participation.
That work happens in places like Gretna.
From its founding in the 1890s, Gretna has been shaped by shared purpose. For example, the Mount Gretna Campmeeting Association convenes board meetings where neighbors deliberate about budgets, bylaws, tree stewardship, grants, cottage ownership, safety, and programming. Committee work is not abstract. It involves real choices about balancing preservation with adaptation and tradition with change, tensions that have shaped the nation from the beginning.
Democracy also depends on the quieter ties that connect people. Political scientist Robert D. Putnam has described this as “social capital” — the trust and familiarity built when people show up regularly and work alongside one another. In Gretna, those ties are visible across the community.

At the Mount Gretna Area Historical Society, volunteers preserve photographs and stories that anchor identity in memory. At the Mount Gretna Playhouse, performers and patrons sustain a cultural tradition that has shaped the community for generations. At Lake Conewago, families gather each summer while lifeguards train and staff oversee maintenance. What appears to be leisure rests on layers of oversight and volunteer effort, acts of stewardship that reflect democratic life itself.

From Chautauqua and the Mount Gretna Heights (“The Heights”) to porch concerts, potluck dinners, walking groups, and long evening conversations, these threads stitch together the fabric of relationships that make civic life possible. Democracy depends not only on laws, but also on neighbors who remain connected and willing to participate.
Gretna has not been without debate. Questions about preservation guidelines, environmental stewardship, property use, funding priorities, and growth have sparked disagreement over the years. Yet those disagreements unfold in public view, among neighbors who continue seeing one another at concerts, along wooded paths, or in the post office line. Here, participation carries accountability. Decisions have faces.
Even seasonal rhythms reflect democratic habits. The Heritage Festival attracts volunteers across committees. Tree stewards monitor the canopy that defines Gretna’s character. Community concerts rely on donations and participation. Maintaining a cottage, whether repairing a porch or preserving historic details, becomes a quiet expression of collective care. These acts may seem modest, yet together they sustain a shared environment.
Gretna has never been without tension. What distinguishes it is the willingness to stay engaged over time. Civic life here grows out of visibility and memory. The Tabernacle, the cottages, and the winding paths through the woods remind each generation that participation today is inseparable from stewardship of the past.
As America marks its 250th anniversary, it is tempting to frame the moment in grand national terms. But the endurance of the American experiment has always depended on places like Gretna. The founders articulated ideals of equality, liberty, and self-government; those ideals survive when citizens gather in board meetings, volunteer for committees, preserve shared spaces, support the arts, debate respectfully, and remain accountable to one another.
In its wooded hollow, Gretna offers a simple reminder: democracy is not inherited once and for all. It is practiced on porches and stages, in meetings and lakeside conversations, and in formal votes and informal gatherings. Two hundred fifty years after 1776, the American experiment endures in monuments and founding documents and in the everyday communities that continue to show up.
And, in Gretna, we still do.
Kevin C. Wells is a Mount Gretna resident working at the intersection of writing, education, and civic service. He holds a Master of Science in organizational leadership, works in education administration at Milton Hershey School, teaches creative writing at the college level, serves on the Mount Gretna Campmeeting Association Board of Managers, and supports local governance through the Derry Township Board of Supervisors.



