In Johnstown, bell tolls for 4 churches

JOHNSTOWN, Pa. - The members of the Polish Heritage Choir raised their voices in song for the last time at SS. Casimir and Emerich yesterday.

Parishioners in the pews, some wiping away tears, solemnly gazed around the ornate sanctuary at the icons and stained-glass windows that had been part of their lives since childhood.

After a century, this church built by Polish immigrants celebrated its last Mass, one of four historic Roman Catholic churches in the ethnic heart of Johnstown to close on the same day.

"I'm dressed in black, aren't I?" said Mary Slezak, 91, whose grandfather helped build the church in 1902. "It's the death of the parish."

The Catholic churches of the Cambria City neighborhood have survived floods and mine accidents, but in the end they couldn't overcome the changing cultural and economic landscape of their community.

In Cambria City, as in urban neighborhoods across the country, the departure of young people and the rising costs of building maintenance have taken their toll on the churches. The 30-block area of Cambria City once boasted 12,000 residents; about 500 live there now.

Six Catholic churches rose in the neighborhood during the first two decades of the the 20th century, when waves of southern and eastern European immigrants poured into Johnstown.

"The Cambria City neighborhood was the primary immigrant entry point in Johnstown. Its buildings document the vanishing way of life and the culture of industry," said Richard Burkert, executive director of the Johnstown Area Heritage Association.

For each ethnic group - first Irish and German, followed by Slovak, Polish, Hungarian, and Croatian immigrants - the stories were similar: They were fleeing oppression and searching for better jobs in the United States, where factories were hungry for unskilled labor.

In Johnstown, they labored in the coal mines and at the Cambria Steel mill, at one time the largest producer of railroad rails. But they forged their own identities in their off-hours, in the fraternal societies and the magnificent churches built on this sliver of land hemmed in by the Pennsylvania Railroad and the Conemaugh River.

Their homes may have been simple, but the ethnic communities hired their own architects and built large churches in the Romanesque and Gothic styles, weaving their cultural identities into the buildings' fabric, with their own icons and saints and hymns. They paid homage to the living and the dead in stained glass.

In 2008, the Altoona-Johnstown Diocese - after decades of dwindling attendance - announced that it would close St. Casimir, St. Columba, St. Rochus Croatian, and Immaculate Conception Churches in Cambria City, and create a single parish.

"A lot of people were angry and shocked," said George Pisula, whose son is a fourth-generation member of St. Casimir. "But there was no need for five churches in 10 blocks. Something needed to be done."

Yesterday, the Rev. Anthony Francis Silka, the parish priest, tried to put a positive face on the event, while recognizing that "the dreaded day" had come to pass.

"It is and will be a bitter pill to swallow," he said in his sermon. "But it will be a pioneering experience to create a new parish."

A diocesan spokesman said the challenge ahead would be meeting the desire of individual congregations to preserve their ethnic traditions, while forming a new parish that is welcoming to all.

"One of the biggest fears in people's minds is 'there go the ethnic traditions,' " said spokesman Tony DeGol. "We're very sensitive to that."

Members of the congregations of the shuttered parishes fear for the futures of their aging landmark buildings. The price tag for restoration is roughly $1.6 million.

Burkert says he plans to work with a new group, Save Our Steeples, and the diocese to pursue other uses for the buildings, perhaps as performing-arts centers, museums, or restaurants.

"The mass closing of churches is a huge challenge for the community of our size," said Burkert. "People are concerned, but they don't think they can do anything."

No one wants to see the fate of St. Emerich - which was torn down in 2003, six years after merging with St. Casimir - befall a beloved church.

Next Sunday, families will gather for the inaugural service at what was formerly St. Stephen Church, once home to Cambria City's Slovak population. They will be invited to bring relics and banners representing their own parishes. So far, 813 of 1,500 members of the closed churches have joined the new parish.

Last year, a contest to name of the new church drew scores of suggestions. The bishop, DeGol said, took only a few minutes to make his decision from among the finalists.

The new parish of Cambria City would be called Resurrection Roman Catholic Church.