Donora loses beloved building as First United Methodist Church is razed
The structure has fallen into disrepair since its closing in 2003.
First United Methodist Church in Donora has stood silent since closing in June 2003, but this week the stillness gave way to the rumble of heavy machinery.
Demolition crews are tearing down the century-old sanctuary at Fifth Street and Thompson Avenue, erasing a landmark that once anchored the borough’s spiritual and social life.
Surrounding streets have been closed for safety, including Thompson Avenue between Fourth and Sixth streets, Prospect Avenue between Murray and Weiss, Prospect Avenue between Murray and Fifth, and Fifth Street between McCain and Murray.
Borough officials have posted maps of the closures online, but a lot of progress has been made within a few days and closures could be lifted as soon as next week if all goes as planned.
As safety fences went up and heavy machinery moved in, members of the community mourned and reflected on milestones celebrated while sitting in the pews and prayers answered through the years.
On June 29, 2003, the congregation gathered for what was both a celebration and a goodbye — the church’s 100th anniversary and its final service. Beneath the glow of its stained glass, they marked the end of a century filled with baptisms and weddings, Christmas pageants and quiet prayers, laughter and tears.
A century of faith
First United Methodist began in the early 1900s when Donora was a booming steel town. Violet Fitzpatrick, the church’s oldest member at the time of its closing, recalled selling bricks in 1903 to help fund construction.
The congregation once counted as many as 1,000 members.
Over the decades, as steel mills shuttered and families moved away, the church’s CHURCH •A2
“This was my family church. I was baptized and married there. I taught Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. My heart is breaking.”
DONNA FULKNIER numbers fell. But its memories endured.
“This was my family church,” said Donna Fulknier. “I was baptized and married there. I taught Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. My heart is breaking.”
Melissa “Missy” Povrzenich remembered nervously narrating the church’s Christmas play in the 1990s.
“Looking out and seeing a packed church — even the upper balconies — made me so nervous,” she said. “It’s so sad to see it being torn down. Me, my brother and our sister were all baptized at the church there. Our dad was when he was little, as were most of his siblings. Our aunt Ann was either the secretary or treasurer there until it closed.”
For some, it was also a link to generations past — like Terry Necciai, whose grandmother was born before Donora existed and watched both the town and the church rise from farmland. Before her marriage in 1929, she served as the Sunday School superintendent, leaving behind songbooks that still carry the notes of those early days.
“I have some of her Sunday School songbooks from that era,” he said.
An empty sanctuary
After its closure, the church sat idle, its stained glass dimmed and its sanctuary silent.
Many hoped it could be repurposed as a community center or another community space, but that dream never came to fruition.
As the years went on, it became more dilapidated. It eventually became a concern for the safety of residents walking nearby and those who live next door.
In the years since its closure, the church’s once-proud structure showed the toll of time and neglect.
The brick façade, weathered and worn, bore streaks of soot and moss.
Roof shingles curled and fell away, and boarded windows hid the fading glow of stained glass inside. Dust coated the pews and pulpit where generations once gathered.
The sanctuary that formerly echoed with hymns now sat in silence, its beauty dimmed but not forgotten.
Officials in Donora were left without a choice when residents’ safety was put at risk. Bricks were falling into the street and nearby yards, and the roof was caving in.
Permission for emergency demolition was obtained with help from the Redevelopment Authority of Washington County and Washington County commissioners.
Council President Cindy Brice said things are moving quickly with the demolition. While officials understand it’s a sad thing for many members of the community, the building had fallen too far beyond repair over the years and had become a safety issue.
“Safety is what prompted all of this,” Brice said. “That’s something we have to prioritize, and with help from the county we were able to do that fairly quickly. It could not have been saved as it was, the walls were bowing, the roof was caving in. The windows were broken.”
Borough officials offered their gratitude to the county commissioners for helping to make the demolition possible.
“I’d like to thank the Washington County commissioners for stepping up and helping us with the demolition of the church,” Councilwoman DeAnne Pavelko said. “They’ve been very gracious in coming to our rescue. So thank you, Washington County commissioners, for your help.”
Special thanks were also extended to the county staff who assisted in the project.
“Please thank the workers who work for the commissioners,” Pavelko said. “They’ve been a tremendous help to this borough on many issues — from streetlights to helping us find buyers for old buildings. They really come out and help Donora.”
Demolition started Wednesday, and is more than 75% complete. It could be finished over the weekend ahead of Monday’s food bank distribution, but officials have announced alternate plans in case it isn’t.
Feeding the community amid change
Demolition has also prompted a change for the Donora Food Bank.
On Monday, clients are asked to begin lining up on Second Street rather than Thompson Avenue, where access will be restricted.
Vehicles that don’t fit on Thompson will be directed to Second Street, with a designated cut-off point to manage traffic.
State Sen. Camera Bartolotta is expected to visit the food bank that day to meet residents and discuss future community needs.
The demolition is expected to wrap up soon, weather permitting.
When it’s finished, photographs, keepsakes and the stories of those who worshiped there will continue to keep the memory of the church alive.
