SAINTS OF THE BOWERY

The Bowery of 1890 or so, was a dangerous, filthy place, as was much of the city below 14th street.   Criminals of every kind took root there, and every imaginable evil thrived.   (See Luc Sante's, "Low Life," for an excellent exploration of the seamier side of life in New York during that period).    But there was also several nationalities of immigrants attempting to work, live, and indeed, prosper, inhabiting the area as well.   Life was difficult and many were tempted into lives of crime or of debauchery and dissolution through drugs and/or alcohol.   There were no shortages of drug dens, bars and saloons where one took one's very life into one's hands by entering.   Death lurked everywhere, from either murder, or foul drink, or disease. 

Amid the ugliness, filth, and danger were places of hope: churches of various faiths and other benevolent institutions.   One in particular fought the devil in the very midst of it's own depravity and ugliness.   It was established by the Methodist Church to serve the men and women of the Lower East Side, and anyone who needed or wanted help on the Bowery itself.  It was called, "The Church of All Nations."   

The Church of All Nations.    It's a name worthy of repeating.  No one was turned away.   In it's early history attendance to its various functions, services and events was low.  It's effectiveness and existence was called into question.  

Then, a dynamic Reverend and his indomitable wife arrived upon the scene.   There names were Rev.  William M. Stonehill and Mrs.  Emilie Daisy Stonehill.   They arrived from England where they had engaged in a life of service and sacrifice, first as officers in "The Salvation Army," and then, upon the Reverend's pastor-ship.   They had a reputation of being extremely devoted to the cause of their fellow man, and for their indomitable spirit.   Both would be called upon in the unsavory and dangerous world of New York's Lower East Side of the newly arrived 20th century.

The Reverend Stonehill was a large, athletic man, whose powerful presence and genuine love of man and Christ caused him to bring many to salvation, if not spiritual then certainly temporal.    Church attendance soared.  Hundreds began to attend regular service, receive meals and direction away from sin and vice.  The Church of All Nations became a haven for the lost and orphaned who might otherwise have degenerated into a life of crime, drugs, or worse.

The Reverend became lovingly referred to as, "The Bishop of the Bowery."  His dynamic speaking style, his devotion to God and the message of Christ and his sincere love of all he encountered, without judgement, made the Church overwhelmingly successful.  Mrs. Stonehill, too, was an active social worker, working particularly with women and for women's rights.  She authored two books, "The Broken Pinion," focusing on the plight of the unwed mother,  and, "Rushlight Poems" a collection of poems.   Her tireless efforts saved hundreds of women from terrible fates.   

Tragedy struck when in 1908 the Reverend Stonehill died suddenly from what was guessed as some form of food poisoning.   Hundreds attended his funeral.  This is from his obituary in the Epworth Herald, a publication of the Methodist Church:

"For he had taken the world--the lost world--into his bosom.  By day he visited and taught and helped.   By night he walked the Bowery searching for the broken-hearted.   Everyone knew him.   All loved him."

Emilie continued on, bravely, fighting for the rights of the poor and for unwed mothers, a cause close to her heart.    

And so, keeping up the good work while intermittently traveling back and forth from her native England, Emilie fought the good fight.   She even raised a nephew, Ranald, during those difficult years.  He went on to become a professor of Engineering at Drexel University and authored a still used (!) textbook on fluid dynamics, whatever that is. 

Eventually, by the late 1910's it was clear that the Church needed a new building.   One was finally built in 1923.   It incorporated part of the area bounded by the Bowery but went through the block all the way to Second Avenue.   It was a huge, impressive, and highly functional building.   It contained two gyms, a swimming pool, and many rooms for arts and crafts, dance, and all manner of events.  There was also a chapel where worship according to any faith could be, and was, respected and practiced.    It was the center of healthy activity at a time when only the wealthy could afford such luxuries.   

During the decade of the 1930's a young man named Joseph Giglia became director of the Church under the auspices of Miss Thelma Burdick of the Methodist church.  (Joseph Giglia was my beloved uncle).  Together,  along with a group of dedicated and gifted workers and councilors, they continued the extraordinary work established by the Stonehills.  My own parents and all of their friends and relatives joined the Church and spoke of it as if it were a holy place, which in some ways, I think it was.  They spoke of dances, of playing sports, and meeting celebrities there, but what I took from their recollections was the joy of being with others in a wonderful and safe atmosphere where one could be at one's best, even soar.  

How many children were welcomed into the Church of All Nations, it is impossible to say.   How many lives were saved, or turned around by this extraordinary organization is also impossible to say.  Probably, they number into the hundreds of thousands.    Think of how many grew into healthy adulthood and then contributed to the over health and wealth of this country.

Emilie eventually retired to a small house in the Park Slope section of Brooklyn, on Franklin Avenue near Monroe Street.  She kept a small garden in the back yard and visitors were always welcome.   Her living room was a virtual museum of her life, filled with photos and memorabilia of her past.   Emilie died in 1943.   She had written a song called, "Picture In My Heart."   I do not know the lyrics.  I like to imagine it was a picture of her with the Reverend.  

The Church of All Nations closed it's doors for the last time sometime in the mid-1970's.   The neighborhood was changing rapidly and the building was starting to decay.    Attempts to save it had for years after, failed.  It was demolished only a few years ago.  

During the demolition many who attended the Church as children had come to watch and mourn, and shed a tear.  Actually, many tears were shed.   I saw this with my own eyes because I was there, too.  I watched at the cruel wrecking ball did its inevitable work.   I watched as brick by brick, once venerated building came crashing to the ground.   I could swear I heard the happy laughter of children, the music of a dance band, and the solemn singing of a hymn, emanating from the ruins.   Others said that they heard it, too.  

I asked the foreman of the job if he had found anything he thought might be of sentimental value in the rubble.   He paused, and said, "Wait here."   He walked away and returned in only a moment carrying a small, brass plaque.   "Would this be of any interest?" 

I wiped the plaque clean.    It read, simply, and beautifully: 

"THE STONEHILL MEMORIAL ROOM

In Memory of the Years

Of Service of the

REV.  WILLIAM STONEHILL 

and 

MRS.  EMILIE STONEHILL"

I had, at the time, no idea who these people were.   But I was curious and I began to do research.   I discovered quite a lot, have presented some of it here.   

And now, you know the names of these saints of the Bowery.  And I'm glad.