For a century, the imposing facade of St. Stephenson Church had served as a symbol of stability on Ashland Avenue just south of Roosevelt Road. The solid, cocoa brown brick walls and vivid stained glass windows made St. Stephenson architecturally significant among the churches and former synagogues once dotting the area.
But no more, as a private development firm, 4S Bay Partners of Highland Park, IL, demolished the dormant building at 1319 S. Ashland Ave. The firm’s management did not respond to repeated attempts to contact them.
“Churches are the beacons of our history,” said Lori Grove, a historian with the Maxwell Street Foundation, noting that, once they are gone, everyone loses a part of the city’s past.
St. Stephenson’s origins go back to its ministering to Maxwell Street-area immigrant communities in the mid-1800s, where it began as the German United Evangelical Zion Church in the Halsted Street area. The church prospered and in 1905 built the structure designed by architect Theodore Duesing on Ashland Avenue at Hastings Street. In 1923, the First Christian Reformed Church took over the building. The neighborhood around the church changed after World War II, and many of its oldest congregants moved. It eventually became the St. Stephenson Missionary Baptist Church, ministering to a predominantly African American congregation.
Ward Miller, executive director of Preservation Chicago, said the church drew worshippers mostly from the immediate area, including close-by public housing. The City eventually demolished most of those public housing buildings, which were part of the Near West Side’s ABLA development, and St. Stephenson MBE declined and eventually closed.
Miller noted that, over time, older churches may lose potential advocates, and he pointed to the campaign several years ago to save St. Stephenson’s steeple. When organizers could not find enough people to help financially or speak to its significance, church administrators had the steeple torn down.
Eventually, the church ran into financial difficulties and closed. The property title fell to the heirs of the last minister, who opted in the end to sell, Miller said.
When congregants move, that phenomenon cuts deep into a neighborhood’s character because houses of worship are so integral to community identity, Miller explained. Once razed, those visible symbols of a neighborhood’s spiritual and social history are gone, a loss not just to scholars and historians but even to tourists, he said.
Vagaries about the status of religious property in Chicago’s landmark preservation law form another part of the problem, Miller said. He thinks the City needs to treat houses of worship differently. “We need some new City laws and regulations to save some of these buildings,” including nearby St. Adalbert’s, he said. Miller also believes the legal aspects pertaining to religious property need revision, with more creative thinking that would let a community hold on to some part of a church or synagogue’s presence even in a city that changes and grows constantly.
St. Stephenson’s artifacts attracted interest from a few history and architecture professionals, Miller said. Most of its stained glass windows ended up in a salvage reclamation store in Maywood; a store employee said the windows sold quickly, though he was unsure how buyers would use them.
Local resident Nick Anderson spoke to the demolition’s deeper significance, noting he had gotten used to St. Stephenson’s imposing presence anchoring the neighborhood when he drove around. “Any decent society should have an interest in sharing its history,” he said, noting that “this loss cuts into that history.”
4S Bay Partners plans to build a multi-story building on the site to house businesses and nonprofits.
Alderman Jason Ervin did not respond to requests for comment.
For the Maxwell Street Foundation log on to maxwellstreetfoundation.org. For Preservation Chicago log on to preservationchicago.org.
—Sheila Elliott