Do you feel lucky? The Project does, because this week we travel to the most risky territory yet, North Philadelphia’s Hunting Park section. There, a few scant blocks behind Temple Hospital, lies this week’s target, St. Veronica. Hunting Park is not known for being a great area; a mere mention of it chills the blood of even the most stoic Philadelpians. I’m not too concerned, though. This endeavor is too lucrative for me to just twiddle my thumbs in safety. Wait, I don’t get paid for this? Oh, crap.
St. Veronica is exceptional because it is still a living, breathing, functional North Philadelphia parish. It is a rare survivor of what I like to call the North Philadelphia Swath of Destruction.
Hit it, boys!
Church Project Theorem #10: The North Philadelphia Swath of Destruction. This theorem refers to the obliteration of nearly every Roman Catholic parish in North Philadelphia. The wave of decline and decay that turned the Northern portion of the city into a black hole also did a number on its churches. When the surrounding communities were cut down, their parishes didn’t stand a chance. They all fell one-by-one as said wave cut a massive swath of destruction across the North Philly landscape, leaving little of value intact in its wake.
Just a partial list of the victims is staggering: St. Stephen (Broad & Butler), St. Henry (4400 N. 5th), Our Lady of the Holy Souls (19th & Tioga), Our Lady of Mercy (Broad & Susquehanna), Assumption B.V.M. (1131 Spring Garden), St. Bonaventure (9th & Cambria), St. Elizabeth (23rd & Berks), Our Lady of Pompeii (6th & Erie), St. Edward the Confessor (8th & York), Most Precious Blood of Our Lord (28th & Diamond) and St. Boniface (Diamond & Hancock).
Some only survived through consolidation; thus, St. Columba (24th & Lehigh) became St. Martin de Porres, and Holy Child (5200 N. Broad) became Our Lady of Hope.
The effect did not fully reach the upper northern reaches, such as Germantown and Olney / Oak Lane, so those parishes are still more or less intact. But there’s virtually nothing left from the Boulevard to City Hall, especially along the Broad Street corridor.
Church Project Theorem #11: The Year of Hell. A corollary to the theorem above, the Year of Hell refers to 1993, when most of those parishes were closed or consolidated. It’s a dark year, marking the Archdiocese’s final, grim declaration that many churches, and by connection their neighborhoods, were fruitless lost causes. A sad year for church enthusiasts everywhere.
St. Veronica is one of the few that somehow survived intact, along with St. Hugh of Cluny (Howard & Tioga), St. Malachy (11th & Master) and St. Michael (2nd & Jefferson). Technically, St. Peter the Apostle (5th & Girard) would qualify, but since that’s home to the Shrine of St. John Neumann, I doubt it was ever in any real danger.
As for Veronica, its uncanny and unlikely survival makes the Project quite happy. Veronica isn’t big, but it’s very, very pretty. A beaten and worn exterior houses a pristine pink and white plaster interior with a variety of neat touches. It’s designed in a columned, faux-cruciform, Italian-Renaissance style, but the columns don’t touch the floor, instead ending in ornate lamps just above your head. The windows, while not gigantic, are really only one of handful of sets that displays true three-dimensional quality, as well as innovative uses of light and dark shades. Hell, they even have a beautiful (and functioning) organ. And have you ever seen a stained-glass skylight?
It doesn’t fit the grandiose definition of the Project, but boy, it has it where it counts. A true treasure lost in a minefield.
Size: 7 out of 10
Ornamentation Rating: 8.5 out of 10
Overall Design Rating: 8 out of 10 crosses
