After the Fall

In West Philly, a fantastic sanctuary sits empty.

by Tom Dreisbach

Tom Dreisbach HERE IS THE CHURCH, BUT WHERE IS THE STEEPLE?: Christ Memorial in West Philly was struck by lightning.

[ potential ]

From afar, the Gothic eaves of Christ Memorial Church cast a striking silhouette as they rise into the West Philadelphia skyline. The structure looms high above a nearby strip mall and row homes. It's visible from blocks away. As you approach, however, a less-striking form comes into focus. A chain-link fence encloses part of the building. Many windows that once held stained glass are now covered with plywood. A sign out front reads, "NOW LEASING."

Five years ago, Christ Memorial housed a congregation, an elementary school and a homeless shelter. Then it was assaulted by the heavens. The circa 1887 structure was struck, on Aug. 3, 2004, by a bolt of lightning. Later that evening, the 170-foot-tall steeple collapsed.

"It was just reminiscent of 9/11, when you saw that thick dust, when it hit the bottom, just rolling forward," the Rev. Larry Falcone, who was working nearby, later testified. "And I looked up but the dust hadn't gone up yet. So I saw instantly the tower was gone. Just gone."

The steeple caused no bodily injuries as it ripped through the pews below and into the building's foundation. It did badly damage the sanctuary.

Initially, Christ Memorial's congregation wanted to restore the sanctuary and possibly even the steeple. But their insurance company, GuideOne Insurance, refused to pay out the church's $8 millionclaim. A lawsuit and countersuit followed. Finally, two years after lightning struck, a court awarded Christ Memorial $7.3 million.

Still, Christ Memorial's congregants could not return home. According to Bishop David Hicks, head of the Reformed Episcopal Diocese of the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic, the cost of rebuilding (over $8 million) and legal fees (over $2 million) were simply too great. Grace Church in Collingdale took in the orphaned congregation and elementary school. Although the congregation hopes to return to Philadelphia, it won't be to the old building: In February 2007, the church was sold to Guy Laren, a local developer, for $700,000.

The homeless shelter still occupies part of the premises. Formerly Lutheran Settlement House, it's now called Jane Addams Place, and appears to be thriving as well as an overstressed and understaffed family shelter can, providing an array of social services, as well as a home for 29 mothers and their children.

But while young kids bustle noisily in the hallways of the shelter, the nearby sanctuary lies silent. Light pours in through the floor-to-ceiling stained glass onto empty pews, covered in years of dust. Though scaffolding sits atop a gash in the floor where the steeple fell, it can't conceal the space's centuries-old beauty.

Christ Memorial is filled with potential. But for what?

Current owner Laren doesn't have any great attachment to the building. "I'm in the business and it's a solid return," he says. Nor does he have specific plans for the sanctuary. "Realistically, it'll be retail or social service," he says. But the combination of the economy and the damage to the building have hamstrung efforts to convert the space.

According to John Gallery, executive director of the Preservation Alliance for Greater Philadelphia, developers often convert the city's historic buildings into residences. (Christ Memorial isn't listed in Philly's Register of Historic Places, but, you know, it's old.) Christ Memorial presents a unique challenge. "When you get to things with more specialized uses like churches," says Gallery, "the options of what they can be used for while still preserving their historic character are a little tougher." Nonprofits, he says, are the most common tenants of this type of building.

The surrounding community has been left to speculate about Christ Memorial's future.

"My biggest fear is that a CVS will move in and just implode the building," says Liz Thul, director of Jane Addams Place. The entire church could be bulldozed — it has no historic status to protect it. Thul, however, has dreams of a thrift shop, emergency housing or classrooms.

Jose Jackson might know the space better than anyone. Between 1994 and the steeple collapse, he lived in the church and worked as its custodian. He wouldn't mind a center for business learning, or even condos. But, says Jackson, "I certainly would not like to see it turned into a nightclub."

Justin Kaplan, a board member of the Spruce Hill Community Association, is hoping for "something beneficial for the community." He suggests a local theater or a youth hostel. This is important in part because something has already been lost. In June 2004, Kaplan bought a house on 43rd Street in part for its view of the then-intact steeple. Just two months later, that view disappeared. Says Kaplan, "They're never gonna be able to replace that."

(editorial@citypaper.net)