The Miraculous Survival of St. Brigid's Church -- 123 Avenue B

St. Brigid's in 2006, just as demolition commenced -- photo by David Shankbone

In 1883 James D. McCabe, Jr., in his “New York by Gaslight,” noted that “Tompkins Square constitutes the only breathing space in the terribly overcrowded tenement house districts of the eastern side of the city.”  It was to this area that the desperate Irish immigrants came, fleeing the Irish Potato Famine of 1845-1849.  The area was known as the Dry Dock District, where ships were built and repaired along the East River.  Many of the Irish immigrants were able to find employment here among the shipyards.

On the eastern edge of the Square, Irish shipwrights began constructing a Catholic church for the swelling population.  The parish was named for the Irish saint Brigid.  Saint Brigid carried the unwieldy burden of being patron saint of babies, blacksmiths, boatmen, cattle, chicken farmers, children whose parents are not married, dairymaids, dairy workers, fugitives, Ireland, mariners, midwives, nuns, poets, printing presses, scholars and travelers.

The Irish-born Patrick Charles Keely was commissioned to design the structure.  The cornerstone was laid on September 10, 1848 and construction completed 15 months later.  Keely produced a restrained Gothic Revival church with little flashy ornamentation other than the tall, lacy spires that rose above the corner towers.    Keely personally carved the Gothic five-pinnacle reredos and designed the organ case.

photo by Willens, Associated Press

 Using their shipbuilding knowledge, the carpenters fashioned the vaulted ceiling as, essentially, an upside-down ship’s hull.  The corbels supporting the roof are decorated with sculpted faces which, reportedly, honor the shipwrights who did the construction of the church.

Tall, Gothic spires originally graced the corners -- photo nycago.org

St. Brigid’s, from the start, would have money problems.   The New York Times reported that the Civil War “made a great difference in its progress out of debt.”  Following the war the shipyards which had been the chief industry in the area were plagued with labor strikes.  The John Roach shipyards were relocated to Chester, putting hundreds of men out of work.  By 1878 the parish had a debt of $72,000 and it was not until 1889 that the church building could be consecrated—even then with an outstanding debt of $32,500.

Patrick Charles Keely personally carved the wooden, five-point reredos -- photo nycago.org

Financial worries would be a constant consideration at St. Brigid’s.   Completion of the interior would take decades.  Not until the 1870s would the Bavarian stained glass windows be installed.  The stations of the cross, possibly the work of Theophile-Narciss Chauvel of Paris, were not purchased until this time, as well.   A wooden altar served for three decades before being replaced by one of beautiful carved marble and Caen stone; the work of Theiss & Janssen.

Work continued in the 1880s when the ceiling and walls were frescoed, carved ash pews from Cleveland were installed and a new Georgia pine floor was laid.  At this time the aisles were raised five inches to improve the sight-lines.

St. Brigid’s welcomed all worshipers and on April 19, 1890 the first Greek Catholic Mass in New York City was celebrated in the basement by Rev. Alexander Dzubay.  As the neighborhood changed, so did the face of the congregation.  By 1914 the neighborhood was more Italian than Irish and as the 20^th century progressed, St. Brigid’s became home to the city’s largest Hispanic congregation.

In 1962 the attractive spires were removed because of safety concerned, leaving rather stumpy unfinished towers, and the façade was slathered over with a cream-colored stucco.

In 1967 the Archdiocese designated St. Brigid’s an “experimental church” and installed a team of three priests who worked together as peers; rather than the traditional organization or a senior pastor with subordinate associates.  The pastors—Dermod McDermott, John Calhoun and Matthew Thompson—staged block parties, neighborhood clean-up projects and opened the rectory to drug addicts and troubled teens in an effort to make a meaningful connection between church and community.

A Mass was celebrated in Spanish, Puerto Rican music was added and outdoor processions, traditional in Puerto Rico, were initiated for the Stations of the Cross.    The innovations increased attendance by some; but were highly contested by others.  Older parishioners vocally objected to the new music, liturgical dancing and the absence of the traditional Catholic liturgy.

But arguments over liturgy took a back seat when, around 1992, the east wall began separating from the building.  The church hired a contractor to erect three concrete buttresses to shore up the wall; however the work was badly done and never corrected.   Then another crack on the north side began widening; presenting the possibility of collapse.

Cardinal Edward M. Egan investigated the problem for himself and, in June 2001, closed the church.

The parish began a restoration drive and little-by-little the fund grew.  Behind the scenes, however, the Archdiocese quietly filed with the City to convert St. Brigid’s Church into apartments.  The filing was never, apparently, in genuine because according to Archdiocese spokesman Joseph Zwilling in 2007 “By this stage there was general consensus with the archdiocese that St. Brigid’s would not reopen as a church and would probably be demolished.”

In the meantime, parishioners who were kept in the dark continued to donate money in envelopes marked “My Donation to Rebuild St. Brigid.”  The fund rose to more than $100,000.  But their money would not be used.

In August of 2004 Bishop Robert Brucato visited Sunday Mass in the school cafeteria and, without explaining the cost of repairs or the safety concerns, abruptly told the people assembled that there was no longer a St. Brigid’s parish.

St. Brigid’s had now stood empty and neglected for four years.  The church estimated a restoration at nearly $7 million and ordered the donations to the “unauthorized” building fund returned.  Demolition began in 2006.  While the parishioners filed suit against the archdiocese, temporarily halting demolition, the organ, the crucifix, the Stations of the Cross, the stained glass and even the sculptured faces of the Irish shipwrights were stripped from the church.

The parishioners lost their law suit and Joseph Zwilling stated “It is still our plan for the building to come down.”   The fate of what was possibly the oldest standing Charles Keely church seemed sealed.

But then a miracle happened.

On Wednesday, May 21, 2008 The New York Daily News reported that “Historic St. Brigid’s Church in the East Village was saved from the wrecking ball Wednesday by a $20 million donation from an anonymous angel.”

Edward Cardinal Egan confirmed that the gift had been given after a “private meeting” at the cardinal’s residence.  The cardinal, in a tone significantly different than parishioners and preservationists were accustomed to, said “This magnificent gift will make it possible for St. Brigid’s Church to be fittingly restored with its significant structural problems properly addressed.”

The interior of St. Brigid's in 2011.  The pews, windows, essentially everything is gone -- photo Committee to Save St. Brigid's Church

Restoration continued at St. Brigid’s Church for years.  The entire edifice was shrouded in scaffolding and netting, to be finally resurrected in January 2013.  Whether the lost architectural treasures – the carved pews, the marble altar, the magnificent stained glass and those Irish shipwright heads—will ever be returned is questionable.

However the 1848 church so important in New York immigrant history miraculously skirted demolition.

The Baroque 1882 Church of St. Francis Xavier

The Jesuit community in Fordham, New York set out to establish a church and school in Manhattan in 1847. Before long they had acquired land between 16th and 15th Streets and constructed a classic-style, unimposing church. As the parish grew larger, it strained the limits of the structure.

It was here, on the evening of March 9, 1877, that tragedy struck. While Father Langlacke was preaching “on hell and the horrors of the damned; and as the preacher was picturing the torments of purgatory, a young woman in the corner gallery, overcome by her feelings, fainted, and gave utterance to a hysterical scream, starting the worshippers, and causing them to spring to their feet,” according to a local newspaper.

In the confusion, someone yelled that a fire had broken out in the gallery. The parishioners stampeded towards the doors. A “very stout woman” fell at the bend in the stairway from the gallery and before she could recover, the panicked women behind her trampled over her and the others who fell. In the end, seven women died in the frenzy.

A year later plans were drawn up for a new, magnificent church. Irish-born architect Patrick Charles Keely, who would design hundreds of church buildings before the end of his career, was given the commission. His church would be like nothing ever seen in Greenwich Village.

postcard from author's collection

Completed in 1882, the gray granite structure dwarfed everything in the neighborhood. The AIA Guide to New York City says, “The monumental porch of this neo-Baroque church spills onto the sidewalk.” The façade rises, in rough-cut blocks, high above the sidewalk in lofty stateliness. “Inside is an equally monumental Baroque space,” says the AIA Guide.

photo by Church of St. Francis Xavier

The interior spills over with European-style ornamentation: frescos, carved plaster and stone, arches, niches, inlaid marble; a frenzy of ecclesiastical decoration. It was declared “sumptuous and exhilarating” by The New York Tribune.

The cost of the building was a staggering $930,356, including furnishings. Three years later, on December 6, 1885, The Rector Reverend John J. Murphy reminded the parish that the church had to be paid for. In a circular letter he wrote “Wherefore I say to all members of the congregation who have done their part in defraying the expenses incurred between May 1878 and December 1885 ought now to feel consoled when they look upon the splendid temple they have helped to build for the greater honor and glory of God. More than this, they ought to be ready to give now with fresh zeal and generosity, believing that the Lord will bless them abundantly for all they give in His name for the redeeming of His house from the indebtedness which still lies upon it.”

photo NYPL Collection

Apparently the parishioners did not give “with fresh zeal.” On November 29 of the following year The New York Times reported that “The Rector, the Rev. John J. Murphy, S. J., has issued an appeal to his congregation for greater efforts toward wiping out the great debt which embarrasses the church.”

Eventually the magnificent structure was paid for.

On March of 1947, a painting of Saint Francis Xavier which had hung in the Immaculate Church in Nagasaki, Japan and miraculously survived the atomic bomb that obliterated the city was presented to the Church of St. Francis Xavier.

In 2005 the parish initiated a $6 million restoration. The interior was essentially gutted to replace flooring, restore the pews, upgrade mechanical and electrical systems, lighting and plaster repair and cleaning.



Outside a complete restoration was completed including the replacement of up to five percent of the granite façade, where damage was beyond repair.

photo by Church of St. Francis Xavier

The majestic church was rededicated on June 19, 2010; an unexpected masterwork on a tiny side street of Greenwich Village worth discovering on a weekend stroll.

non-credited photographs taken by the author