This article has been adapted from the September 2016 issue of Parks & Recreation Magazine, the official publication of the National Recreation and Park Association. Through its pursuit of key issues, trends, and personalities, the magazine advances American parks, recreation, and conservation efforts. You can read the full-length article here.

This is the third and final installment in a series on park benches. Read the previous two posts here and here.

Benches are some of the cheapest park furnishings or landscaping items (even cheaper than trees), but the cost of purchase, installation, and maintenance still adds up. Steve Schuckman, the superintendent of planning, design, and facilities with the Cincinnati Park Board, says that buying and installing a practical, aesthetically pleasing, and durable bench costs between $1,500 and $2,000. In Kansas City, the standard design comes to about $900. The 2002 master plan for Pittsburgh's Allegheny Commons put the cost of modest benches at $1,200 each.

One way to cover expenses is through an adopt-a-bench program. Flourishing in many cities across the U.S., sponsorships take the shape of a small memorial plaque in return for the purchase, installation, and maintenance of a bench. (Many park agencies or conservancies stipulate that the memorial lasts for either the lifetime of the bench or for a certain number of years, whichever ends first). The cost varies by city and by park but is generally around $2,000. In Austin, eleven of the city's parks have already reached their bench donation limit. In New York's Central Park, the Central Park Conservancy's program (at $10,000 per bench) has yielded benefactors for over 4,200 of the park's more than 9,000 benches. Kate O'Brien, development associate for the Broadway Mall Association, calls the Mall's bench sponsorship program "a really good source of revenue." Of the 340 benches from 70^th Street to 168^th Street, 39 are adopted.

A plaque on a bench in Central Park. Photo credit: Flickr user gigi_nyc

Because of the popularity, some programs have had to institute rules. The Pittsburgh Park Conservancy gives wording guidelines, has a character count, and does not allow logos. "This program is a nice way to honor loved ones," says the conservancy's Susan Rademacher, "but if we have too many memorial benches, it may detract from the feeling that the park is a common space meant for everyone."

For O'Brien, seeking bench sponsorships is a joy of her job. She says, "Donors always have a great story about their connection to the park. Something like, 'I've lived here for 40 years and always drink my coffee on this bench.'" Benches often have an association with an important moment or a special person. There are plaques commemorating births, deaths, marriages, and everything in between, including pets. Beyond helping to fund conservancies or park maintenance, bench sponsorship programs allow people to interact with and form a special, and tangible, connection to a certain park.

As this series of posts has illustrated, benches can be both a joy and a bane for park-goers and parks departments. But it does seem to be clear that when a bench is removed, its park loses more than just a piece of furniture. Maybe Adrian Benepe, senior vice president of The Trust for Public Land and former commissioner of parks for New York City, is correct when he says, "It's like everything else — you don't know what you've got until it's gone." Or maybe it's more alarming, as put by Tampa Parks Director Greg Bayor: "If you start removing benches then you're on the way to removing everything else too."