The Richland Community Swimming Pool’s owner doesn’t exist – here’s why

We took a deep dive into its history and learned how one woman kept open a small-town pool without an owner.

It’s a different type of absentee landowner.

The Richland Community Swimming Pool Association has been absent from existence since shortly after the turn of the century – even though its namesake pool was open to the public until 2015.

Pool manager Penny Hartman said she operated the facility for more than a decade under no one’s authority and with no supervision. She obtained her own insurance policy, hired employees, and set rates for daily and season subscriptions to keep it afloat.

“I didn’t answer to nobody,” she said.

Hartman abruptly decided not to open the small-town pool in 2015 because the costs had become too much for her. Since then, it has sat vacant and become a safety hazard, borough council members say.

The Lebanon Daily News examined how the facility at 600 E. Linden St. became a pool without an owner – and why its tricky legal status is making waves in Richland.

“A real struggle”

Richland’s public pool began with a splash of enthusiasm.

In 1961, members of American Legion Post 880, the Lions Club and Neptune Fire Company formed the Richland Community Swimming Pool Association, which began with nine members and eventually grew to 12 members, according to Lebanon Daily News accounts. The Association raised funds and built an L-shaped, Olympic-sized open-air pool.

According to current borough manager Perri Shanaman, the pool remained popular throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, when she and her husband, current mayor Ray Shanaman, were part of a robust pool association board of directors.

“The pool was thriving when my kids were little. They had a lot of fun up there,” said borough resident Allison Althouse, who raised her children in the 1990s.

By the end of that decade, however, it was suffering maintenance issues and relying on donations to keep its finances above water, according to former pool manager Jeffrey Chernich. The Pool Association board had shrunk to about six or seven members due to a lack of interest.

“It was becoming a real struggle,” Chernich said.

He asked the borough government to take over the pool, but the offer was declined, he said. The only support the borough provided to the pool was free water.

Hartman replaced Chernich in the early 2000s – neither is sure of the exact year – and the Pool Association board dwindled even further. Soon, it consisted only of Hartman, Althouse and their husbands.

Hartman perceived she was the only person preventing the pool’s demise, so she took control into her own hands.

“She put her all into it,” Chernich said – and that was an understatement. Hartman got her lifeguard license and worked at the pool every hour it was open to ensure everything went smoothly.

“I’ve had no summer vacations,” she said.

Despite her efforts, community interest in the pool continued to fade, according to Althouse. Myerstown’s pool, less than 4 miles away, was newer and more exciting, with water slides and diving boards.

Located in a borough of just 1,600 people, the Richland pool always relied in part on users from neighboring areas.

By the early 2010s, though, Hartman was looking further away for swimmers. Many of the Richland pool’s patrons were children from the Lebanon area that Hartman knew from her other job as a school bus driver.

Money down the drain

Hartman acknowledged rumors that she made money off the pool, but said the truth is quite the opposite. Insurance for the pool cost her thousands, and she also had to pay for employees and maintenance. Chlorine cost $1,000 per month, and electricity cost $1,700 per month, she said.

Season passes, daily fees and food sales didn’t come close to covering those costs, she said. Instead, she used her own money, even when that meant not paying her bills.

“I was hiding it from my husband and we started getting notices that we were going to get foreclosed on,” she said. “I almost lost my home and everything.”

If Hartman’s experience is at all like that experienced by leaders of Lebanon’s aging community pool, it isn’t hard to believe that she lost money. Lebanon’s Lauther Water Complex at Coleman Memorial Park has lost money in recent years, according to mayor Sherry Capello, and is closed in 2018 because it needs repairs that cost $300,000.

In 2015, Richland officials told Hartman the volume of water needed for the pool was causing low water pressure elsewhere in the borough, and she needed to begin paying for it, she said.

For Hartman, that was the final straw. She announced on Facebook that she would not be opening the pool in 2015, prompting residents to direct anger at both her and the borough.

Borough officials responded that they couldn’t run the pool without owning it, but that prompted a question: with no active Richland Community Swimming Pool Association, who actually does own it?

Finding an owner

Hartman and borough solicitor Thomas Harlan agree that it isn’t owned by the shareholders whose funds helped to build it, despite a persistent rumor to the contrary. Those certificates of indebtedness guaranteed the right to swim at the pool until they were redeemed for cash, but are not ownership documents, Harlan said at the May 1 council meeting.

The borough has taken some steps to maintain the property, such as mowing the lawn and securing it with a padlock, Shanaman said.

Beyond addressing public safety issues and codes violations, though, there isn’t much the borough can do, said Harlan.

If it tried to cite the owner for code violations, for example, someone would have to be served legal notice and it isn’t clear who that person would be, he said. The same problem would apply to attempting to condemn or take title of the property.

It is possible for a borough to take over a property without a known owner, but only after a complicated legal process, Harlan said. Necessary steps including advertising in a newspaper for anyone with knowledge of the owner, a lawsuit and proceedings before a local judge, and dealings with the Pennsylvania Bureau of Corporations and Charitable Organizations would need to be performed, causing the borough to incur significant legal costs and advertising fees.

In the end, the borough may not want to own the property anyway, he said. Councilwoman Kelly Bricker said at a June meeting that a rumor about the borough wanting the property for a new borough hall is “not true.”

Borough officials searched for the pool’s records, which were kept in the pool office during most of its existence, but were unable to find them, Harlan said.

Harlan and Hartman have left each other voicemails but have not yet spoken, he said.

Hartman said the pool’s records were stolen during a rash of burglaries around 2003-04. She believes the pool still belongs to the Richland Community Swimming Pool Association and the board could be reconstructed to make decisions about the future of the land.

There also are no tax records because the Pool Association was a non-profit organization and did not pay taxes on the property.

“It’s a death trap out there”

Despite the legal conundrum, there appears to be a consensus within Richland that something needs to be done.

A windstorm this year damaged the pool office’s roof. Paint, wood and concrete areas are deteriorating. It has also become a magnet for break-ins.

“That building’s falling the hell down, and (what) if some kid goes in there, the building falls down and he gets killed?” asked councilman Larry Hartman at the May 1 meeting. “It’s a death trap out there.”

Borough resident Andrew Kriss told the borough council at its July 3 meeting that he is rounding up a group of volunteers to fill the pool with soil and ultimately use the land for new recreational purposes that could include a dog park and a community garden.

Kriss declined to be interviewed, but provided the Lebanon Daily News with a statement about his plans and those of other volunteers who have promised to support his efforts.

“In 1961, community organizations and citizens worked side by side toward a common goal of opening a community pool for recreation and enjoyment,” he wrote. “In 2014, the pools operation was found unfeasible financially largely due to diminished community use. We are grateful to those operators who sustained a community jewel for many years. We now look to the future with great optimism. While the land has some things that need to be address(ed) there are many possible uses that can provide the community recreational benefit. If anyone is interested in participating in this vision for the future of Richland Community Swimming Pool Association, please contact RichlandCSPA@gmail.com.”

Kriss said he received a positive reception from members of the borough council. Bricker said at the meeting she liked his ideas for using the land.

Given the unappetizing prospect of spending money to find the owner or get the deed transferred to the borough, they are willing to be patient with the efforts of Kriss and his volunteers, according to Harlan.

“I’m waiting to see what they come up with,” he said.

However the story unfolds, a return to the glory days of swimming in Richland does not appear to be in anyone’s plans.

Although she tried desperately to keep Richland’s swimming pool open, even former pool manager Penny Hartman said “there’s never going to be a pool again.”

Douglas Stump contributed to this report.