The Parkway North swerved to avoid this splendid church, but destroyed the whole neighborhood that made up its parish. Now a worship site of Holy Wisdom Parish, St. Boniface is also home to the officially sanctioned Latin Mass community in Pittsburgh (as opposed to other Latin Mass churches that call themselves Catholic but are repudiated by the Roman Catholic hierarchy).
“Two stops underexposed!” says the camera. “Nuts to you!” says the photographer. Manual exposure was necessary to keep the spots of sunshine from being blasted out into solid white.
You may notice that Father Pitt keeps returning to this one scene the way Monet kept returning to his water lilies. Not that old Pa Pitt compares himself to Monet, but there are certain rewards for the artist in returning to the same subject in different lights and different seasons. Getting to know the one place intimately reveals the changes wrought by time and light.
The Alcoa headquarters is a modernist symphony in aluminum. Father Pitt confesses to liking this building a great deal better than the old Alcoa building downtown, which still looks like a pile of old television sets to him.
Frederick Osterling built this charming little building in 1917 to be his office and studio. From it he had a fine view of the Pittsburgh skyline that he was helping shape—a view now blocked by the new Alcoa building.
A rabbit pauses while grazing on Herr’s Island (or Washington’s Landing, as it likes to be called these days).
Built in 1890 to reach the stockyards and other industrial unpleasantness on Herr’s Island, this bridge now carries bicycles from the Three Rivers Heritage Trail. Herr’s Island itself, renamed “Washington’s Landing,” is now full of expensive townhouses at this end, with some offices and businesses in the middle of the island and a park at the northeast end.
An American Toad (Anaxyrus americanus) along the Trillium Trail in Fox Chapel.
Immaculate Heart of Mary Church, built by Polish railroad workers in their meager time off from work, presides over the vertiginous neighborhood of Polish Hill. This view was taken from across the Allegheny on the Herr’s Island railroad bridge, now part of a bicycle trail.
Some of the old Heinz factory buildings have been turned into loft apartments, and some are still awaiting their next use. The H. J. Heinz Company was a kind of workers’ paradise when old H. J. himself ran it—there was never a strike, never a wage reduction; medical care was free; there was a library and a gymnasium, free concerts for everyone in the auditorium, and even free manicures for the women. Heinz was also notorious for pushing for federal food regulations when the rest of the food industry was fighting them tooth and nail. It was probably just the way old H. J. was constituted, but it was also priceless publicity: would you rather buy food from the company that fights federal oversight or the company that flings wide the doors and welcomes the inspectors?
