by Are you ready to own part of Berks County’s Origin? Welcome to the tranquility of our South Mountain
History of the South Mountain Resorts
Grandview Sanatarium began in 1847 as a mountain retreat founded by a German immigrant named Dr. Frederick Leisenring. People visited from all over the world to drink pure water from the Cold Springs atop Cushion Peak in Wernersville. It was created as a place to enjoy the glorious view, the sunshine, the fresh mineral water, and the privacy; it way considered the way to renew and restore.
Most of what you read online is not historically accurate. It’s a lesson in discernment, and more than anything else, it teaches us to value actual research, interviews with those who have lived experiences, and factually accurate records.
A few notes on the difference in spelling of “sanatarium” vs “sanatorium”. A century ago, there was much debate over the distinction between the two spellings. In some cases, people thought Sanatarium was different from Sanatorium, meaning, the latter was believed to treat acute health conditions of the time such as Tuberculosis while the former treated health conditions that were considered chronic in nature, such as “mental exhaustion” from working too hard in the city. Isn’t that amusing? Rather, don’t we all suffer from stress and mental exhaustion from working too hard? Of course we do. Today, we call it a spa treatment. If someone showed up at Grandview with Tuberculosis, they were turned away. So let’s just call it what it is…it was an upscale spa resort that wealthy people enjoyed to relax and recover. Check out the actual list of services, or shall we say, spa services:
The Folklore
Stories over the past century that were not well researched believed this resort on South Mountain (then referred to as Blue Ridge Mountains of the Lebanon Valley) was to be for sick people, but the historical facts and verifiable records suggest much to the contrary. In fact, the resort was not for “ill” people, but specifically created for restoration of mind and body after physically and mentally exhausting work in the city.
If people arrived who were actually “ill” with disease or were considered “too sick” they were actually turned away from Grandview Sanatorium.
As the mountainous area and grand resorts around Lower Heidelberg grew in stature during the 19th and early 20th centuries, being serviced by the Wernersville Train Station, the entire 600 acre establishment known for it’s “Grand” View, also became self sustaining, with it’s own dairy farm and gardens that supported the guests with fresh food in a glass enclosed dining room with an incredible view, trails for walking in nature, and even invitations to celebrity guests.
One might compare this exclusive resort to what Nemacolin is today, as it was so far ahead of it’s time offering guests luxurious services to help them achieve health and wellness such as salt baths, massage, and red-light therapy. Today we enjoy spa services to maintain our wellness, and that is exactly what Grandview Sanatorium was in it’s heyday.
Grandview was not the only wellness resort on South Mountain, in all there were eight. Today, Galen Hall and Byndenwood (better known as Camp Conrad Weiser, now the South Mountain YMCA Camps) still remain along with a few other historical landmarks such as the South Mountain Inn, a Select Registry Bed & Breakfast that preserves the mountain’s long tradition of peace and hospitality.
Expansion in the early 1900’s
Under the direction of Dr. Reuben Wenrich, nearly 600 acres on South Mountain made Berks County a famous destination in the early 20th century. In 1890 the original carriage house and barn were constructed to manage the horses that escorted guests who arrived by train from Wernersville up to the retreat on South Mountain.
Long before the land was divided, the original Carriage House, built in 1890, served as infrastructure for one of the region’s most prominent health and wellness retreats of it’s time. The carriage house underwent a major renovation in 1907, adding bedrooms to accommodate the servants and workers. That structure, once the operational heart of a self-contained resort community, is this home.
Welcome to tranquility.
Writers over the years loved to sensationalize and tell a good story about ruins, rumors, and the kind of local folklore that takes root once a grand building disappears.
While it’s true that Grandview closed in 1926 and its main building was intentionally destroyed in a controlled fire decades later, what survived became the subject of legend.
The actual historical record, the residents, and the caretakers experience tells a very different story; it is one of warmth, legacy, and privacy. For those who find South Mountain’s history more fascinating than frightening, the true provenance is much more compelling than any legend: a documented, century-long chapter of Berks County heritage, held inside its original walls.
The Carriage House
Much of the stonework remains today, and the massive beams that once supported a working horse and carriage house still carry the floors above. According to the homeowner, construction of this caliber is felt as much as it is seen; the stonework is so thick that a hard rain outside can go entirely unnoticed within.
To the current owner, it’s the home her children will always be nostalgic for. From the view across the valley through every change of season to every evening light, it has never once become ordinary to the family who has preserved it’s legacy for the past 16 years.
Select artifacts of the property’s original history remain with the home, for whoever becomes its next steward.
This is not simply a house for sale. This is an invitation to become part of the next chapter of a story that began in 1847.
Private showings are available by appointment.
Contact me to schedule a tour or for more information: kate@katemurray.com
CLICK HERE to view more photos and detail about the carriage house that is currently for sale.
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A Note from the Author:
These days, meaning in the age of digital media – or ever since approximately the year 2000 when it was common for people to have their own computer, anyone can write whatever they want and hit “publish” on a blog, and then that becomes a “new” written record of what search engines and now GPT engines index. This is in some ways unfortunate, because what has materialized in the past 25 years is that we often see a regurgitation of folklore that carried forward instead of actual research about the facts or actual interviews with living residents and relatives.
We see this often on social media, where people openly express opinions, sometimes polarizing, outwardly from behind the keyboard, but they neglect to do the actual research before stating their opinion.
I care about setting the record straight. I don’t care about writing in a way that encourages sensationalism, attention or engagement. My goal is not to debate, but to discuss the facts surrounding our local history, which in this case, paint a very different picture from the folklore of generations past.
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. For me, I am a 4th generation Italian-American from Reading. I’ve learned about the history of our community first hand, from my grandparents who immigrated here from Italy in 1905. They lived in Reading through the depression, bought homes where RACC is today, and have first-hand memories of the heyday that the city of Reading experienced. I’ve learned about our community from family and also from friends, neighbors, and 4 generations of my family that has grown up here. It has been an absolute privilege over my 50 years of life here to meet so many people who lives through our region’s history. Old family photos show the bustle of Penn Street, the businesses my family and our family friends owned, and the stories of prosperity and also of challenge. I myself can recall what City Park and the Reading Santa Parade looked like in the 1980s, when my Aunt Esther and Uncle Pat owned a diner at 8th and Penn Street, when my dad worked in the DAs office, and when Fifth was filled with boutiques while Spring Street was filled with outlets. I lived in a glorious old end-of-row home on Mineral Spring Road before we moved to the suburbs. I remember what the halls of Cabrini Academy looked like. My husband and I were married by the same gentleman (Monsignor Losito) that married my mom and dad at Holy Rosary. My whole family lived in city rows around the corner from one another. To me, Reading is a beautiful city.
If you want to chat about the past, reach out, I would love to have a conversation.