ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times

DATE: Wednesday, April 17, 1996              TAG: 9604170004
SECTION: CURRENT                  PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
DATELINE: PEARISBURG
SOURCE: KRISTEN KAMMERER STAFF WRITER 


RESURRECTED ABANDONED METHODIST CHURCH WILL SOON SERVE AGAIN - AS A HOUSE

For more than a decade, the Bethel United Methodist church has stood empty.

Nestled on a hill at the corner of Mountain Lake and Montgomery streets, the small white church looks like any other abandoned building. Its clapboard siding and stone supports stand among overgrown trees, grass and shrubs. Birds nest and clamor in the bell tower. A few vines have snaked inside through cracks in the windows.

Glimpsing through a dusty window, one sees a scene frozen in time. Bibles and hymnals rest open on several pews, a piano silently waits against the wall, and a wooden register hanging beside the pulpit reads, "Attendance today: 7."

In 1983, the few remaining members held their last worship service. When they left, they locked the doors behind them. Pearisburg resident Helen Armstead Leece, at 88 the oldest surviving member, remembers that day: "We were all so sad. Everyone just cried."

The church's recent dormancy, however, belies both its historic past and hopeful future.

Soon the empty church will begin a new chapter. Starting this month, dozens of Habitat for Humanity volunteers will be renovating Bethel into a three-bedroom home for a Giles County family.

Established in 1869, the 127-year-old church was the first built by blacks in Giles County following the Civil War.

Despite its significance, little is known about the church's origins. No photographs were taken and no interviews conducted. What information is known has been gathered by local historians from census data and old newspapers.

Short articles found in the yellowed Pearisburg Gazettes of that time, say that the "freedmen" (freed slaves) made a contract to build a church and began work in 1869.

The church's construction, it seems, took less than a year. On June 5, 1869, the Gazette reported, "last Sunday the Freedman's Church was dedicated by [the] Rev. E. Lawson, P.E., and several other colored ministers were present. The meeting was protracted for several days, and quite a revival was gotten up."

A handwritten deed made on Nov. 17, 1869, transferred the church property from Pearisburg residents Polly Kelley and Sally and Campbell Wiley to the trustees of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Colored, of the United States of America at Pearisburg. The price of the transfer was $150.

The 1870 census for Pearisburg says Polly Kelley resided with Sally and Campbell Wiley, a shoemaker. It appears that Polly was Sally Wiley's mother and that all three were among the charter members of the Bethel church. All were black.

According to Reginald Butler, a history professor at the University of Virginia, it was quite common for freed slaves, who had acquired both land and money, to donate their resources to black churches.

"Blacks and whites had gone to churches together for many years, but blacks were only allowed in the back or the balcony," he says. "For a long time, blacks had wanted their own places of worship. Emancipation finally allowed them to" build their own churches.

Bethel played a major role in Pearisburg life for more than a century.

Leece, a Pearisburg resident, says she "was practically born in that church." Her memories stretch back to when she was a little girl and most people from Bethel, including her father, worked at the local tannery.

Every Sunday, she and her family would walk a half-mile to church. In those days, the pastor rode into town on horseback. Leece says she had a great admiration for those early preachers because "they said everything so plain and simple that even a child could understand."

Another vivid memory, Leece says, was attending the funerals at Bethel. Because of the building's narrow entry, caskets would have to be lifted into the church through its large front window. "It made for quite a sight," she remembers.

Another surviving member, Harvey Hicks, 76, who now lives in Roanoke, joined the church in 1941. At that time, he moved into the parsonage, a small cottage standing next to the church. In 1945, the parsonage burned down and Hicks lost a young son in the blaze. Despite his loss, Hicks has fond memories of Bethel. "I remember the sound of the bell being rung on Sunday morning," he says. "I was hardly ever on time!"

In the winter, Hicks recalls, the congregation stayed warm by firing up a coal stove. Without storm windows, the building was drafty on windy days.

The last pastor at Bethel was the Rev. Frank Clifton, who is white. He remembers how proud the congregation was of their church, though it was a modest building. "Everyone who came to Bethel acted like they were coming to the greatest cathedral in existence. They had such a deep respect for their church," Clifton says.

The best part of the church for Clifton, however, was its people. "It was what I call a 'touching church,'" he says. "People there shook one another's hands and patted each other on the back ... there was a lot of love there."

Clifton, however, is most proud that by the time he left Bethel, his congregation, though small, was half black and half white. "People said that it couldn't be done, but we did it," he recalls. "It was beautiful to see everyone together. It was the best experience I've ever had as a pastor."

In 1993, 10 years after Bethel closed, its very existence seemed threatened. Because of its physical deterioration, Pearisburg town officials condemned the building and declared it "unfit for human habitation." They warned that if repairs were not made, the church would have to be demolished.

Members of the Giles Historical Society cringed at the thought of losing such a unique piece of local history. The United Methodist Church, which owned the property, also did not want to lose the building. But the church said it was not feasible to maintain a building that had no congregation.

It was then that the Rev. Don Scott, district superintendent of the United Methodist Church, came up with an idea. Scott planned to dismantle the building and then deed the land to Habitat for Humanity, a nonprofit housing group that helps families in need build and own their own homes.

However, after inspecting the church, Terri Fitzwater, executive director of the New River Valley Habitat for Humanity, along with her board of directors, decided that they could save the structure. The cost of construction will be $40,000 and all the money has been raised by the United Methodist Church.

Scott says the members of his district are thrilled by the opportunity. "Not only can we provide a home for a needy family, but we can also preserve an important piece of African-American history ... it's a double joy," he says.

Not everyone, however, is as supportive of the renovation plans. Some think that Bethel can best serve the community by being preserved as a historic building.

Aware of these concerns, Alfred Chevalier, a part-time coordinator for Habitat for Humanity and the architect who drew the renovation plans, says Habitat will make every effort to preserve as much of the original church as possible.

Saving the building, however, will take some effort. The most difficult part will be realigning its bowed walls. To do this, the entire church will be lifted off its stone supports by a crane. While it's in the air, workers will bring the walls back into square and then replace the ceiling joists.

The exterior then will be covered with a vinyl siding that could be easily removed if, in the future, someone wanted to restore the original wood.

Chevalier says they will preserve the original lighting fixtures, as well as the wainscotting and cathedral ceiling. Also, the bell will be taken down from the tower and displayed in a casing in front of the former church.

Though the pews will be removed, one section will be placed in the home's entryway with a plaque marking its significance.


LENGTH: Long  :  138 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  GENE DALTON/Staff. 1. Terri Fitzwater (below), executive

director of the New River Valley Habitat for Humanity, stands inside

the old church that will be turned into a Habitat house. 2. The

church (right) has been vacant for more than a decade. color.

by CNB