Albina's Historic Sentinel

 

Anyone looking at what’s left of the historic Albina neighborhood cannot miss what is likely its oldest and tallest surviving building: Immaculate Heart Catholic Church.

This interesting example of Gothic Revival architecture was erected in 1890 when the area it served was populated mostly by Irish and European immigrants.  The church, with its pointed-arch windows and  lofty spire, was constructed with wood, not stone or brick.  As a result, sometimes its style is called Carpenter Gothic. 

The church was built by skilled craftsmen, working without benefit of plans from an architect.  As such, it is known among architectural cognoscenti as an example of “vernacular architecture.”

The building has seen a number of changes itself, along with dramatic demographic shifts in its congregation and neighborhood.  Bill Curtin, who was Immaculate Heart’s priest during the challenging decade from 1971 to 1981, knows the changes well.

Curtin’s Irish father was baptized in Immaculate Heart in 1909.  Victor Curtin, a Portland police officer who lived close to Albina, started patrolling the neighborhood in the 1940s.  He liked the area and its many jazz clubs.  He came to know and appreciate many of the Black residents who had been funneled into Albina as a result of World War II shipbuilding, and the 1948 Vanport flood.  Albina's demographics were dictated largely by and Realtors and lenders who wanted to keep Blacks from buying houses in other Portland neighborhoods.

 Bill Curtin, then 30ish and inspired by the civil rights movement and Dr.  Martin Luther King Jr., requested a transfer from St. Charles Church in Northeast Portland to Immaculate Heart.   His arrival in 1971 coincided with one of the most painful chapters of Albina history, the total eradication of several blocks containing houses and businesses, ostensibly to make way for expansion of Emanuel Hospital.  But after the land was cleared, Congress eliminated the federal urban renewal funding for the project.

 “I was there for a lot of the rebuilding of the community,” Curtin said.  He enjoyed working with his parishioners and Black business owners who opened their wallets for church projects.  “My life at Immaculate Heart was filled with a lot of wonderful things,” he said. “There were a lot of good people.  We were known as the Black catholic church in town.”  Curtin’s faith in the neighborhood and the people was not oblivious to reality, however.  “There was a lot of business on the side.”

 The extensive demolition for the ill-fated Emanuel expansion wiped out the homes and businesses of many Immaculate Heart parishioners. Curtin said many owners were not fairly paid for their property by the City of Portland.  Many poorer residents wound up moving to inexpensive housing East Multnomah County.

In the past 20 years, changes in neighborhood demographics led Immaculate Heart to put more emphasis on serving immigrant communities, including residents from Asia, Africa and Europe.  The church desires to served a congregation including "the lonely, the poor and the uninvolved."

Immaculate Heart was the second Catholic church built on Portland’s east side.  It ranks as the oldest “surviving” church, however, since the old St. Francis of Assisi Church in Southeast Portland was demolished after suffering severe storm damage in the 1930s. 

  While the skilled builders did an excellent job recreating Gothic details and proportions, they made one mistake that has proved not to be serious:  The main tower and spire tilts slightly off 90 degrees, by a margin largely undetectable to the naked eye.  A study performed in 1989 detected no signs of movement and concluded there was no lasting danger.

 Much of the church’s exterior is covered with pressed tin, a galvanized product popular during the Victorian era for both interior and exterior applications.  The tin at Immaculate Heart was pressed to give the impression of bricks.  Some of the tin was damaged by aggressive cleaning in the 1990s, leading to the spread of rust.  Fortunately, the galvanized tin manufacturer was still in business and replacements were acquired.  Repairs also were made around the foundation to prevent water infiltration.

 Bill Curtin left Immaculate Heart and the priesthood in 1981 in order to marry a woman he loved.  He remains connected to his Albina heritage, however, as a member of the board of directors of the Miracles Club, a non-profit recovery center that works with Black citizens striving to achieve and maintain sobriety.

 No Portland neighborhood is immune to change, least of all Albina.  One hopes the Immaculate Heart spire will continue to stand tall as a sentinel of Albina's history, regardless of whatever inevitable changes arise.