Peter Henderson was from the Peter
Henderson Seed Company Hendersons in Jersey City, New Jersey. He was born January 5, 1908, and his
parents expected he would enter their family business. In high school, however, Peter was
the school sports writer and became very much interested in journalism, taking his weekly
report to Jersey Citys Jersey Journal. One of the editors there became
interested in Peter and told him of the journalism classes he had attended at the
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The youth was so intrigued that he
visited Chapel Hill and came back enrolled in the University Journalism School.
I was working on my
master’s degree in
English during Petes senior year, and the rest is history. We were married in 1935,
and moved to Haworth, New Jersey, on
the day Pearl Harbor was attacked, December 7, 1941. We had thought it would be
a very happy day. We had a new home, our son, Bruce, would be three years old on December
8, and Pete was well liked at the Dwight Morrow High School in Englewood, where he taught
journalism
Pete would never avoid a war that
threatened his country. A real patriot, he did what I knew he would and joined the Army.
Never one to stay in the background, Pete, I felt, would be killed in battle. But the Lord
answered my prayers, and Pete, much to his disappointment, never saw battle. The day
before he was to be shipped to Europe, a call went out to all camps in the United States,
seeking a soldier to edit the Fort Meade, Maryland, newspaper and handle orientation and the
radio work. Pete was immediately chosen and remained at Fort Meade for the duration of the
war.
With the wars end Pete returned to
Haworth and resumed teaching in Englewood.
His fascination with the
bluff at Fort
Lee had begun when as a boy he saw on the cover of the
Saturday Evening Post Willard Ortlips picture of General Washington standing on the
bluff
watching the downfall of Fort Washington across the Hudson River.
When we went up on the
bluff we were sad to see
that the area was overgrown, with no marker of any sort identifying its importance.
In 1953 Pete was amazed and angered upon
reading in our daily newspaper that the Fort Lee town council would meet and consider,
among other matters, the possibility of selling the bluff area below the George Washington
Bridge to developers interested in building hotels there.
We went to the meeting, and I
was frightened when I recognized the potential buyers as gangsters I had seen on
the televised Kefauver Commission portrayal. The three men
had their say and the councilmen seemed
pleased. And then Pete got up. Always a good speaker, he outdid himself. When he finished
there was stunned silence. The town could use the money a sale would bring, but the
council members were not unpatriotic. The mayor finally announced that they would pursue
the matter further, and the meeting adjourned. As we left the building I could almost see
Petes mind planning his next move.
Outside the building a woman came up to
us and introduced herself as representing the Rockefellers. She asked Pete if he had proof
that the bluff was indeed used during the American Revolution. When he sadly replied that
he had no proof that would hold in court, she replied that if there was proof, then the
Rockefellers would purchase the area to add it to the parklands that went north of the
bridge all the way to the New York state line. Pete assured the woman that he would get
the proof, and we parted company with her.
Pete had already said he would go to
Washington someday to look in the Library of Congress, where he felt the proof must be
found. Bergen County was populated by Indians and Dutch farmers during the Revolution, and
there was little written down. Pete had already visited descendents of early settlers in
Fort Lee and Edgewater and gotten their stories about “Fort Constitution,” as it
was originally called, and “Fort Lee,” as it was to become.
When school closed in June, Pete went to
Washington DC. The authorities at the Library of Congress were very nice, but had no
information other than to tell Pete that if there was any information on the matter, it
would be in the archives in the basement. Pete descended into the spider-infested, musty,
hot basement and went to work. It was time consuming and frustrating, but perseverance was
one of Petes chief characteristics, and he finally found the proof he needed.
Although Pete handed the Rockefellers
their proof, the battle was far from won. For the next three years the Fort Lee Council
wavered between patriotism and finances. With the help of his good friend and fellow
teacher Eleanor Harvey, Pete mobilized high school students, who enthusiastically took up
the cause. At one of the Council Meetings, Ben Marsden, owner of the Riviera
nightclub above the George Washington Bridge, assured the audience that most of the
members of nobility had visited his club, and not one of them had ever asked him where
General Washington had stood and watched the fall of Fort Washington across the Hudson
River.
The Palisades Interstate Park Commission
already owned the sixteen acres south of the Bluff, so only the fourteen acres in the
northern area owned by Fort Lee or its Board of Liquidation were involved. Finally the
philanthropic organization Sealantic Fund Inc. acquired the northern area, and the
Palisades Interstate Park Commission could merge all the cliff-front holdings into one
park, with of course the blessings of the Rockefellers.
Word soon reached Bergen County people of
the fact that had Lord Cornwallis captured General Washington at Fort Lee, this country
might still be a British Colony. People began to view Fort Lee with respect and as a site
of national importance. The little town of Closter boasted that it was their townsman who
had alerted the men at Fort Lee to the approach of Cornwallis. And thereby hangs a tale.
Although it had always been accepted that on the cold dark night of November 19, 1776,
Cornwallis led his five thousand troops with all their guns and cannons up the Palisades
past the so-called inn now called “the Cornwallis House” at Closter Dock, there
sprang up a group declaring that Cornwallis did not land at the Closter dock, but at Huylers Landing. Pete felt that five thousand men would not all have gone up a
single path, even though there was a dock there. Instead he felt that the men might well
have gone up different areas. That did not, however, mean no one went up Closter Dock.
Indeed, Pete took up the battle and debated for Closter so convincingly that he was then
and there made an honorary citizen of Closter by the mayor. Peter debated to an
enthusiastic crowd at Farleigh Dickinson University, and finally in Newark at the State
Historic Society headquarters. And Closter still brings out its horseman on November 20.
Deeply interested in Greenbrook Sanctuary
in Alpine, Pete was elected a Director there and served faithfully. But his greatest
interest was in what was to become Fort Lee Historic Park—which is there today due
largely to Pete Hendersons efforts.
Mrs. Peter Henderson April
16, 2000