A church in a typical Pittsburgh interpretation of Perpendicular Gothic. The stubby battlemented towers make it look like a chapel built into the wall of a castle; we would guess that the larger one was meant to hold up a spire. The white Kittanning brick gives some of the effect of stone without the expense of stone.
Addendum: The architect was John A. Long; the church was built in about 1911.1
Oakdale was a prosperous little town, as we can see by these houses in a variety of styles, all on the same street. It is still a fairly prosperous town today, and most of these houses have been kept up and altered in various ways that suited their inhabitants over the years. We present them without further comment, except to say that, if you come away with the impression that the back streets of Oakdale are very pleasant, your impression is correct.
Oakdale is a pleasant little borough in the western suburbs. The town was devastated by floods from the remnants of Hurricane Ivan in 2004, and some of it never recovered; but the back streets are full of pleasant houses, and the business district has business in it, and the population is growing.
The tiny urban core of Oakdale is a row of shops on Noblestown Road.
This building, 120 years old this year, has kept its corner entrance. Addendum: This was the First National Bank of Oakdale; the architect was Max Brenning.1
The odd polygonal end of this building probably had large showroom windows at one time.
Finally, an old service station. Few old-fashioned service stations have survived without massive alterations, but this one still keeps its attractive little red-roofed hut with—once again—a corner entrance.
High-school dropout James E. Allison would go on to have a long and distinguished career as an architect, much of it with his younger brother David in California as Allison & Allison. When he designed this little school,1 though, he was 24 years old, and he had just set up his own practice. Although he had no diplomas, he had worked for the Pittsburgh office of Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge (the successors to the sainted Richardson), and then for Adler & Sullivan in Chicago. No one needs more education than that.
The Romanesque style was all the rage in 1894, and Allison made sure his clients got their fill of round arches, emphasizing them with darker brick. It looks as though he had a lot of fun drawing the belfry.
Whoever designed the inscription—possibly some high-school dropout—made an elementary mistake in Roman numerals that has persisted for 131 years. There is no sane way to read the date “MDCCCICIV.” But change the incorrect subtractive notation to MDCCCXCIV, and it gives us the date 1894, which matches our source.
The school has been turned into apartments, but the exterior appearance has been kept close to original. The building is on the National Register of Historic Places.
The rear section seems to have been a later addition, carefully matched to the original in style and materials.
