It was the early part of the 20th century when a young novelist, Thomas Wolfe, wrote his epic, “You Can’t Go Home Again.” The novel was his fictionalized account of his hometown. These five simple words say so much. But they also echo differently to nearly everyone who reads them.
In Pueblo, says city native Gerald Cordova, Chairman of the Saint Leander Finance Council, not only can you go home again, but you’ll always have a home in Pueblo and in this 100-year-old church.
For Cordova, an engineer by training, there has never been a time when the church has not been a part of his life. His parents married there, he was baptized there and even attended pre-school at Saint Leander. He knows its history nearly as well as he knows his own.
Ask just who this obscure saint is, you’ve come to the right guy. “Saint Leander was a Spanish bishop (of Seville). He was commissioned in going forward in helping solidify the faith,” he’ll say before punctuating his telling with, “He’s been good in helping us.” Cordova is never far from Saint Leander and, in his telling, Saint Leander is never far from him.
This past weekend, Cordova was ‘trail boss’ on the church’s centennial celebration. It was a weekend where both eastsiders and non-eastsiders came to pay respects and honor a church that connects so much of the city.
“About 20-30 percent were people I had not seen before,” he said of Friday evening’s dinner and dance and Sunday’s mariachi mass. But nearly all had a connection to the simple eastside church.
While Saint Leander Church is officially 100, it actually began across the street in the basement of the then Benedictine College. For twenty years, masses were conducted there. But as Pueblo and the eastside grew, the congregation decided it needed its own actual structure and fundraising began. But even before a church, there was already a Saint Leander School.
In 1925, the fund hit its mark—$50,000—and construction, using a blueprint from a Colorado Springs church, began. On Easter Sunday 1926 Saint Leander was blessed.
Inside, the smell of incense fills the air. Parishioners look ahead as the priest looks back. A striking stained-glass Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane bathes the altar in a cascade of hues.
While the church was once far more diverse, split between Latino and Anglo eastsiders, it now serves a mostly Latino flock, including a growing immigrant membership. It offers two Sunday masses, including one in Spanish celebrated by Father Albeiro Cirro Hererra.
In earlier decades, Sunday masses were celebrated nearly hourly. A good portion of 20th century Saint Leander services were also done in Latin.
For Pueblo eastsiders, Saint Leader connects the generations. Marriages, baptisms, First Communions and Confirmations and, of course, funerals are the thread. But there are also other remembrances. One stands out above all the others.
In August 1996, a young man who lived across the street from the church and was a frequent helper with church functions, murdered two parish priests, 65-year-old Father Thomas Scheets and 77-year-old retired Father Louis Stovik.
Then 20-year-old Douglas Comiskey was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to one year to life in the Colorado Mental Health Institute. In 2007, the Pueblo Chieftain reported that Comiskey had been released to a halfway house in Arapahoe County. His current whereabouts are unknown.
Countless changes have occurred over the life of Saint Leander. For one, the school building that once had as many as 400 students remains, though said Cordova, its future remains unknown. To be used again, it would have to be brought up to 21st century code. Costs could be prohibitive.
The gymnasium still serves as a meeting place for parish business or for church potlucks or post-funeral meals. The Benedictine Convent that stood caddy-corner from the church and once housed the nuns who taught at Saint Leader School has become a parking lot for nearby Risley Middle School. And the adjacent baseball field that once served as the eastside ‘Mecca’ for thousands of young boys has been swallowed up by a new Risley. But the church remains.
Saint Leander continues to celebrate the spiritual bookends of life, from baptisms to funerals. On any given day, a veteran’s flag-draped coffin can be seen solemnly entering the deeply, darkened wooden doors. On weekends, joyful wedding guests line the church’s entryway to honor the new couple.
The church is the port for the soul for Pueblo’s eastside. It lives on and as Cordova says, Saint Leander will always be open for those who choose to ‘come home again.’
