First published: Friday, December 28, 2001

Sign of Hope for Future of Church
Fred LeBrun

When a majestic and historically significant church like St. Joseph's in Albany's Arbor Hill begins to tragically fall apart before our eyes, we have to be thankful the right people are rushing to the rescue.

We also have to ask what took so long.

It's not as if the deterioration has been a secret. St. Joseph's is one of the most prominent buildings on Albany's skyline.

This Gothic mini-cathedral has been wasting away in plain sight for the better part of a decade. Tiles falling off the roof. Parts of the spires beginning to tilt. Warning signs posted to stay away.

How many times have we driven by and looked up at those reaching spires and thought, ``What a shame, what a shame.''

Shame nothing. What a disgrace. What an insult to the generations of Irish, Polish and Italian immigrants who prayed here and built their communities and their futures around this church.

On the secular side, St. Joseph's is also a stunning work of art. Less than 20 years ago, when a man named Corning was mayor and St. Joseph's was struggling through another cold winter with its dwindling parish, the Episcopalian mayor cashed in $7,700 of his own stock to give the church enough for heat until spring.

This he did in the presence of his then human resources commissioner, and now assemblyman, Jack McEneny.

``Jack, I think St. Joseph's is the most beautiful church in the city.''

Erastus Corning 2nd would be in tears if he could see what's come of the interior today. The altar looks like Dresden the day after the bombing. After the church was desanctified, much was ripped out and redistributed to various suburban parishes. Sledgehammers have been put to marble and some of the wooden pews.

The fronts of the carved wooden confessional booths have been haphazardly buzz-sawed. Two workmen Friday were clearing rubble that included marble of several types and colors, in preparation for emergency stabilization efforts.

And yet there is hope, both for most of the extraordinary interior design and for -- finally -- a preservation effort to save St. Joseph's from collapsing from water damage through its roof, as engineers tell us it is in grave danger of doing.

The original Meneely bells are in place; the 16 magnificent stained-glass windows are intact, as are most of the 31 giant, hand-carved angels flying from the hammer-beam ceiling. Restoration would be costly, but not impossible.

But restoration will have to wait for basic rescue first. A city-led rescue started with an alarm bell from a structural engineer, Russ Reeves of Troy. He was hired by Elda and Mario Abate, owners of the church since 2000, to refute the city of Albany's contention that the building was a hazard and a threat to public safety.

Reeves was so struck with how unsafe it was he felt compelled to inform the building department. He used terms like ``dynamic mode of failure,'' and ``This is a dangerous situation.''

The city, criticized in the past by Historic Albany and others for turning a blind eye, reacted quickly. All, including the Abates, are barred from the building until leaning interior stone columns are stabilized. The city will pay an estimated $150,000 to $200,000 to do so.

Then what follows is likely to be a messy legal wrestling match with the Abates for the property itself. ``This is insane, what the mayor is doing to us. He's even turned the engineer against us,'' says a sputtering-mad Elda Abate.

Once, and if, the city gains title, Historic Albany has expressed an interest in assisting restoration efforts, or finding a suitable owner or government partner.

Realistically, we're years away from knowing whether we have a happy ending for St. Joseph. But at least now there's real hope we might.

Contact Fred LeBrun at 454-5453.