Tell people about a place that matters
DAVE HURST © 2016 Hurst Media Works
We've all been there at one time or another in our lives: places that took us back in time.
Perhaps it was in an elegant, Victorian mansion of a 19th century industrialist or a humble, two-roomed log cabin of an 18th century settler; a massive Gothic cathedral with soaring stone arches or a utilitarian forge with hulking, steam-driven hammers.
In such places the wealth of the industrialist, the Spartan existence of the settler, the inspiration of the worshipper or the intense environment of the worker becomes very real. In such places dry historical facts become memorable experiences.
Sometimes, it can even be a life-changing experience.
People have been inspired by such places to follow certain educational, vocational or spiritual paths; they may even be inspired to accept the challenge of caring for the place itself.
I speak from personal experience. For the past five years, my professional life has been largely consumed with working to save and find new uses for three, century-old former Roman Catholic churches that were closed by the Diocese of Altoona-Johnstown in 2009.
All three of these buildings are located in Johnstown's original immigrant neighborhood of Cambria City. German, Irish and Polish immigrants developed these parishes to minister to their own in a challenging new world.
Members of each of these parishes worshiped in their native tongues, maintained their traditions, developed a social hall, opened a school, and shared their common culture of food, stories, music and dance.
These were steelworkers and coal miners who earned about a dollar a day for 12-hour work days.
Wives raised large families in four rooms, grew much of their food in backyard gardens and often took in single laborers as borders to earn extra money.
Somehow these people scraped together the resources to build architecturally distinctive, beautiful churches while making new lives here and helping to create a new middle class in America.
These old church buildings may no longer be centers of worship. But they are monuments to the faith, hard work, sacrifice and perseverance of these people — our ancestors.
That's why these places matter. And this is just one example of why our nation's leading voice for historic preservation — the National Trust for Historic Preservation — has designated May as "Preservation Month" and launched a national campaign that it calls "This Place Matters."
This month the National Trust is challenging you to get involved in preservation.
Pick a place that matters to you and launch a campaign to publicize why it matters.
The National Trust makes it fairly simple for you. Go to www.SavingPlaces.org/ThisPlaceMatters, download the recommended materials and follow the step-by-step instructions that you will find there.
Basically, the National Trust has designed a campaign template to bring public attention to places that help us to understand more about who we are and where we come from.
Our region is ripe for such campaigns because it is rich in historical resources — many of them documented to some degree. And they aren't hard to find. Your special place may be just down the block or across town, it may be well-known or known only to you, well-maintained or threatened with demolition.
Do some research. Discover more about why your place matters. Get some photos and launch your campaign.
While public attention is just the first step in what can be a long, arduous and expensive process — especially when a building is vacant and threatened — it's a good way to get started.
And the results can be meaningful for the entire community. One of our former churches is now a public music hall and rental venue, a second was sold to a new owner who plans to open a restaurant there, while our third may become a theater.
These places matter for more than what they can tell us about our past. They matter for what they offer for our future.
To respond to this column — or read other columns by Dave Hurst — visit www.hurstmediaworks.com.