The harsh yellow tape dissuades visitors from approaching the 133-year-old church.
In a matter of months, the intricate hand-crafted details of the original St. Luke’s Episcopal Church could be nothing more than a pile of rubble unless current owner Bell Fine Arts Association is able to locate funds to restore the aged building.
For many Belton residents, the church is a solid piece of the city’s history. For Emily “Countess” Means, it’s a part of her history.
Born in 1919, Means was immediately adopted into St. Luke’s Episcopal Church on Wall Street. Her mother had come as a bride to the church in 1917 and for the next 70 years stayed devoted to the church.
Every Sunday morning Means would take a bath and bring out her good Sunday clothes - no T-shirts today.
“People had a great deal of respect for the church,” Means said. “They would wear the best things they had.”
After cleaning and primping, Means and her family would either walk or drive the two blocks to St. Luke’s in the mid-morning heat.
“Our family never even considered not going to church on Sunday,” Means said. “We just got up and went to church.”
“The church was part of our family,” she added.
From Means’ earliest childhood memories, she recalled the congregation merely consisting of her two sisters, her mother, three elderly women and a man most Sundays. Over time, the congregation grew to nearly 50 people.
Fifty people plus 100-plus degree heat in a tiny church could equal unbearable sermons. However, Means said she doesn’t remember it being uncomfortable.
The church has big, airy windows, a tall ceiling and the outside is constructed of stone, which Means said kept the church cool. Plus, everybody had fans.
“The back of the pew had a place to put your prayer book and your handbook and your fan,” Means said.
Local businesses would often provide churchgoers with free fans, which Means said were covered in advertisements.
When the heat would finally subside, chilly temperatures would pick up where scorching temperatures left off.
A single pot-bellied stove provided warmth for the small church.
“It was very warm up close and not so good in the distance,” she said.
Because of the church’s small size, it shared a minister with two other churches in Lampasas and Georgetown. Belton was the minister’s last stop Sunday mornings.
“When he finally got to Belton, there was no restroom built in the church,” Means said. “There was just a bowl and a pitcher.”
“What a welcome,” she laughed.
Running water and plumbing in the church were later remedied, but not before they caused many an awkward moment.
When a visiting minister came to St. Luke’s in the 1940s, Means said he “preached until he was thirsty.” In the middle of the sermon, he asked one of the 8-year-old boys on the first pew to get him some water.
“The young man, as boys would, knew there was no running water on the premises and went across the street to grab a bucket of water from the neighbors and came running back,” Means said.
Means laughed as she recalled the boy presenting the bucket of water to the minister.
“It brought out a good laugh,” Means said.
While fond memories of the church have been spattered throughout the century, nothing can last forever.
Beginning in the 1940s, church members began to see signs of aging distress from the church. Stones that once held strong into the side of the building began to loosen. From that point on, Means said more problems arose.
A steady rise in the congregation along with a deteriorating building forced St. Luke’s to move to a new location on Beal Street in 1974, 100 years after it had been built.
While the congregation has a new building, Means said they still have fond memories of the original site.
“I have felt a fondness for it for all of these years,” Means said. “I just always felt like that one was home.”
“None of us want to lose it if we can find a way,” she added.
Neighbors to St. Luke’s original church share a common ideal with the congregation.
When Trent Northam, neighbor to the church, heard news of the church’s impending demise, he said, “It would just seem criminal to me.”
Northam and his wife chose their home primarily because of the historic church setting next door.
“It was the first Catholic church to be built in Belton,” he said.
“The priest owned this house,” he added pointing to his house.
He pointed out the church bell tower is the oldest in Bell County.
“I love it, and I think it would be a shame,” Northam said. But he admitted to a few of the building’s flaws.
“It would cost some money for a face-lift,” he said. “But, there are grants for every single thing in the world.”
He also expressed disappointment in the association’s neglect of its outward appearance.
“There hasn’t been anybody here,” said Trent Northam, neighbor to the church. “They put the yellow tape up and are going to let the grass grow around it.”
Northam contemplated cutting the jungle of bushes mounting the side of the building so people could witness the church’s beauty.
Bob McKinzie, a fellow neighbor of the church, was unsettled by the idea of demolition as well.
“It’s a nice old building,” he said. “I think if we can get enough people to raise some heck, something could be done.”
lfrase@temple-telegram.com
