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Hyde Park Presbyterian Church Page 3
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While the First Presbyterian Church was exercising its new identity as a jail, another building called, "The Stone Church" had taken its place. Our friend recalls: The church had a most wonderful steeple.
It was so tall that it seemed to touch the sky... At the very
tip...was a great golden cross that glistened in the sunshine...
One Saturday afternoon (our friend who was then a little girl)...
was looking out of the window watching a dreadful storm. Even
as she looked there was a whirling black cloud over the church
and the steeple bent, described a semi-circle in the air, and
crashed to the ground, a splintered ruin. Imagine what a terrific noise this would have made and how frightening! I'm glad that our friend was inside, not outside the church, when the steeple fell. The steeple was rebuilt, she tells me-only not so high! In addition to morning service, our friend would attend Sabbath School led by Mrs. James P. Root and Mrs. Fasset. I note that she says "James", not "Mary" or "Diana" or "Susan". I guess that wives were referred to by their husband's forenames rather than their own. She muses that at this time, streets were unlighted and unpaved. Our friend used to go with her father to "hitch up the Pastor's horses" for his visit among his parish members who were no longer within walking distance. Hyde Park had grown. We didn't really discuss the last and present location for the Presbyterian church, 1448 E.53rd Street. The one where I sat, swinging my legs under the pew and listening to my newfound friend. I know that members moved here in 1889, yet the anniversary of the First Presbyterian Church is celebrated from 1860, with the opening of the very first building-the one that was a church-jail-hotel. My friend was now rambling a bit and my mind had wandered. She was describing some lovely places, none of which seemed familiar until she mentioned the Midway Plaisance. I'll let her tell you in her own words: South Park was called Woodville. To the West was Egandale, where the dogtooth violets grew in abundance and where boys searched for bird's nests. Then came the pine woods, the only place to find the yellow violet. Across the dummy track on 55th Street was Gansell's prairie, the home of the dainty white violet, where boys played ball in summer and children skated in winter. South of Gansell's prairie, the Midway Plaisance was a plaisance indeed, not a straight road connecting Jackson and Washington Parks, but a beautiful, shady, winding driveway through an oak grove, where grew the very finest wild strawberries. The rain had slowed to a trickle, and so had my ancient friend's outpouring of memories. We left the church and I sighed. I sure wish I could have seen that church-jail-hotel. What a history! |
