Below is an article that was posted in the Observer/Reporter on 4-10-07.
Original Article
By Michael Jones
Staff writer
mjones@observer-reporter.com
AVELLA – Peering up at the towering Lincoln National Bank, Tom Jennings envisions a bustling building that could become a cornerstone for redevelopment in Avella.
Never mind that most of its windows are broken and vines stretch across the 84-year-old brick facade. Or, that a leaking roof has destroyed much of the building’s interior. Or, even that the building hasn’t been occupied since the Great Depression.
“You got to have a lot of vision,” Jennings said, slowly sipping his mug of coffee while standing next to the busted front doors. “It looks rough, but clear away the debris and it will look a lot better.”
Jennings and other members of the Avella Area Community Association are fighting to save the building from the wrecking ball ever since Independence Township supervisors in December began discussing whether to raze it.
Members of the community group are asking the supervisors to give them enough time to prove a restoration of the building would be safe and economically viable. They contend they have reached an agreement to purchase the building for a nominal price from the current property owners, the Ciaffoni family.
John Ciaffoni would not comment on the building or a potential sale to the community group.
The Lincoln National Bank opened in Avella in 1905 inside a smaller wooden structure before crews constructed the current building in 1923. A modern marvel at the time, it dwarfed other businesses in the quaint town. But when the bank closed in the early 1930s, it fell into disrepair.
“This building stands as a testament to the Depression,” Jennings said, pausing for a moment. “This was a thriving community and a booming mine town.”
The building’s facade remains in good condition with little wear or vandalism, although the padlocked doors have since been ripped open, allowing vandals to ravage parts of the interior that weren’t weathered by time.
A layer of ice covers the first floor and icicles hang from the ceiling of the dark and dank lobby, which holds the frigid cold like a freezer. Pop cans, empty cigarette packs and even a lawnmower are scattered across the floor next to a tiny portal once used by the bank teller. Dirt and weeds hang from around the wooden stairwell that leads to the building’s second floor.
Upstairs, the ceiling’s steel frame is visible after much of the plaster collapsed from the leaking roof that continuously drips water onto gashes in the floorboards. Rays of sunlight shine through the broken windows and into the sprawling upper floor. Graffiti covers much of the walls and towering pillars.
Despite the mess, Jennings, Dale Tudor and his wife, Marcy, have a clear vision of how they would restore the building and what it would become to the community. Engineers have told them the building is structurally stable, they said, and reconstruction costs are estimated at less than $1 million.
Their imaginations run wild when they ponder what stores could go inside, suggesting a historical center, restaurant, antique shop, bar or, fittingly, a bank. Dale Tudor suggested Avella could become a tourist spot with the reopening of the nearby train station and renovations to Meadowcroft’s rockshelter archaeological excavation site.
“Avella could be a real destination for people from Pittsburgh, Steubenville and Wheeling,” he said.
Jennings added the building could become a beacon for economical development.
“I see a focal point for the town,” Jennings said. “I see it lit up and a place where people will be proud to enjoy Avella for its uniqueness and historical value.”
But township officials do not share a similar sentiment and have branded the building a hazard. Township solicitor Bob Clarke said officials are taking legal steps to demolish the building, although the current property owners oppose the move. The fate of the building could remain in limbo until the end of the year, Clarke said.
“The condition of the building is such, we cannot let it continue (to stand),” Clarke said. “It’s just unsafe, and it must come down.”
Max Morgan, executive director for the Washington County Council on Economical Development, has a special interest in the building because his father, a medic during World War I, directed its construction following the war. He commended the association’s efforts and hoped the building would remain standing.
“They got a big fight out there,” he said. “But if they’re inspired to improve their little community, they should be congratulated.”
Jennings admitted the supervisors’ position is a minor setback, but is convinced the community will rally around a landmark that has stood dormant for most of the 20th century.
“There’s a lot of hope here,” Jennings said. “We can never be more enthusiastic of what could be, and looking at what is.”
