Now Coraopolis United Methodist. T. B. and Lawrence Wolfe, father and son, were the architects of this church. Here’s a walk all the way around from front to back on a drizzly day.
More pictures of the First Methodist Episcopal Church of Coraopolis.
Another look at the Fifth Avenue façade of this very respectable bank building, designed by Press C. Dowler and opened in 1921.
More pictures of the Coraopolis Savings and Trust Company building.
A few of the commercial buildings on Fifth Avenue, the mainest of the main streets in Coraopolis. We begin with a curious building that reveals its secret as we move along the street: it is a Second Empire building from the late 1800s with a later commercial front added.
An interesting roofline and a bit of Art Nouveau terra-cotta decoration enliven this little storefront.
Colonial revival had passed from a fashion to a mania by the 1930s, with the restoration of Williamsburg capturing the American imagination with visions of an elegant Georgian past. Small federal buildings, especially post offices, almost always adopted the Georgian style—as we see in this modest post office with its neat Georgian entrance, complete with fanlight. The post office has moved to larger quarters, but the building is kept in original shape by its current occupants.
Coraopolis is notable for the variety of styles in its houses. Many have been altered over the years, but the back streets are still very pleasant. A few weeks ago, old Pa Pitt took a long walk through Coraopolis on a slightly drizzly day.
This seems to be the parsonage for the Methodist church next door.
The siding has swallowed the original details in this house, but it is neatly kept, and the Georgian form of it still carries a load of dignity.
This is a sad thing to happen to any house, especially a fine Dutch colonial on a pleasant street like this. We hope insurance will cover putting the house back together; we place it here in the middle of the album so that it will be documented if it has to be demolished, but there are still plenty of cheerful pictures to follow.
A pair of brick-and-stucco houses that stand out for their unusual choice of material by Coraopolis standards.
The Colonial Revival comes to Coraopolis in an exceptionally tasteful small house.
This center-hall house is remarkable, but not more remarkable than the trees in the front yard.
John Stewart Wassum, who designed the old Coraopolis Municipal Building, also designed this business block a couple of streets away. It has had its windows replaced, but the storefronts are well preserved. Mr. Wassum’s father was a contractor in Coraopolis, which was doubtless good for the son’s architecture business.
It might look better with a little paint, but this commercial building preserves some interesting details that might have disappeared if its owners had been more prosperous
The main business streets of Coraopolis are Fifth Avenue, Fourth Avenue, and Mill Street, a very narrow street that crosses the other two. (There is also a Main Street in Coraopolis, but, in Pittsburghish fashion, it is not the main street.) Let’s take a stroll down Mill Street together. We’ll take two cameras with us, one digital and the other loaded with black-and-white film.
We’ll start at the Coraopolis Savings and Trust Company building, a splendid bank designed by Press C. Dowler, who gave us a number of grand classical banks. Right across Fifth Avenue is…
…another grand classical bank, the Ohio Valley Trust Company. This one is still in use as a bank.
This plain but dignified doorway leads to the upstairs offices, which were a prestigious address for local businessmen. The architect W. E. Laughner had his office here.
Across the street is a substantial commercial block with a corner entrance.
Now we come to a building with tangled layers of history, but enough remains to show us the style of the original.
This bricked-in arch has a terra-cotta head for a keystone. Note that the original building was faced with Roman brick—the long, narrow bricks you see outside the arch—and not just Roman, but yellow Kittanning Roman brick.
This building next door used similar Kittanning Roman brick. The storefront has been altered, but long enough ago that it has an inset entrance to keep the door from hitting pedestrians in the face.
At the intersection with Fourth Avenue we meet the old Hotel Helm,1 with its distinctive shingled turret. It probably bore a cap when it was built.
From here Mill Street leads past the train station and the Fingeret building, both of which we’ve seen before. At Second Avenue—as far as we’ll go for now—we come to…
…the Hotel Belvedere, which was probably a cheaper place to stay than the Hotel Helm. It still preserves its shingled gable, though the rest has been sheathed in three colors of fake siding.
This frame house across from the train station is a feast of Victorian woodwork, lovingly picked out in a tasteful polychrome paint scheme.
Father Pitt knows nothing about this building besides what you see here. It was probably a striking Moderne design when it went up in 1943; paint has obscured the patterned brickwork and different materials.
