More than 60 years ago, a historic Black church in the Hill District was forced to give up its sanctuary, compensated for what it says was a fraction of its value, to an urban renewal project that wiped out the heart of the African-American neighborhood.
But now, Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church is poised to recoup some of that loss and reclaim a spot near its former home. It has reached an agreement with the Pittsburgh Penguins — the NHL franchise that now holds development rights to the site near its current arena — for the church to use a 1.5-acre parcel that it envisions using for housing and other revenue-generating development.
The Rev. Dale Snyder, the pastor of Bethel, said he hopes to build between 280 and 350 apartments on the site, alongside a childcare facility and commercial space.
"Our goal is to put together a marketable low- to moderate-income development that will allow us to financially be solvent for Bethel — because there's no need to put together a project that's going to come out with a zero profitability," Dale told reporters Friday.
Dale said initial blueprints of the development put its total cost at more than $100 million. Revenue from the church’s properties in the Lower Hill, he added, will go to fortify the congregation's future.
The agreement came after years of public calls and demonstrations by the church, which has described its efforts as seeking reparations. And the church battle is a microcosm of a larger one regarding the legacy of the 1950s project, in which leaders in the Black community have long sought redress from the powers that be in Pittsburgh’s political, business and sports realms.
The Penguins didn't come into existence until 1967, playing first in one arena in the former neighborhood and now in a newer one nearby.
But Kevin Acklin, president of business operations for the Penguins, said the team is “recognizing our role here as a steward" of the property and its legacy.
“Mistakes that were made 70 years ago, we can’t fix them, but we can do what we can today for a better future, for restorative justice," Acklin said in an interview.
He hopes the agreement, and the larger efforts to remake the site, can serve as a model for other U.S. cities with the wounds of similar mid-20th-century urban-renewal projects.
“We have the ability to do good and work with a group of people and a church that’s trying to do good,” he said in an interview, adding a biblical aphorism: “To whom much is given, much is expected.”
The announcement at an outdoor setting on the former arena site, preceded by a worship service, underscored the role of faith as a motivating and organizing source for Bethel's efforts.
The aptly named Hill District — rising steeply to the east of the city's central business district — became in the 20th century a hub for Black culture, renowned for its jazz clubs and other cultural touchstones portrayed in many of the plays of acclaimed dramatist August Wilson.
Bethel AME had a prominent role in that community. Founded around 1808 and considered Pittsburgh’s oldest Black church, it was active from its earliest years in childhood education and civil rights. It opened a large brick church in 1906 in the Lower Hill District, with rounded arches and a prominent tower, home to 3,000 members at its peak.
"Bethel was that church that taught literacy when the public schools wouldn't allow us to learn how to read and to write," Snyder said. "Bethel was that place when you came from Mississippi, Alabama or Georgia or Texas that taught you the king's English so that you can go to the job and learn how not to split verbs and speak better than pastors speak."
But in the 1950s, public officials from the Urban Redevelopment Authority of Pittsburgh declared much of the Lower Hill to be blighted. It oversaw the demolition of about 1,300 buildings across 95 acres, displacing more than 8,000 people, more than 400 businesses and multiple houses of worship — although not a mostly white Catholic church, as Bethel members have noted.
"[Our members] were moved away," Snyder said. "They were not rich people. They were hardworking people. So in order for them to get to Bethel, they would have to take some time, two or three buses."
Bethel leaders fought the church’s demolition unsuccessfully, ultimately receiving $240,000 for a property that had been valued at $745,000. Snyder has said that in the racial and political climate of the time, the church had little power to obtain fair compensation.
A cross-town highway, civic arena and some housing were built in the former neighborhood, but other planned structures never materialized.
The result was a concrete and asphalt gash between the downtown and the Hill District, which continues to struggle economically.
The Penguins came into existence in 1967, playing in the original arena and then a newer one nearby after the old one was demolished. Under agreements with public authorities, the franchise has development rights to 28 acres of the former arena site. A 26-story mixed-use building is on the rise, and a small urban park has opened, with other projects on the drawing board.
Bethel, meanwhile, now worships further up in the Hill District. Its more modest, modern sanctuary is bathed in the light of stained-glass windows telling stories of the Bible and honoring Methodist stalwarts such as AME pioneer Richard Allen.
Snyder said the church's faith building will remain in its current location, although he hopes to soon furnish renovations. The Penguins donated $100,000 to the church to repave its parking lot.
Among those who attended Friday's announcement is Bishop Kurt Kusserow of the Southwestern Pennsylvania Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
Kusserow is among the faith leaders that have supported Bethel in its efforts for reparations. The relationship grew out of a Lutheran-AME dialogue that itself was rooted in tragedy — the 2015 racist massacre of nine attendees of a Bible study at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina.
When ELCA leaders learned that the killer had been a member of one of its churches, they called for members of their predominately white denomination to build ties with AME churches.
“As we learned more about white privilege and all of that reality in our country,” Kusserow said, “it was our responsibility to use that privilege in any possible way to accompany what the AME church was seeking in terms of reparations.”
Acklin said the 1.5-acre site is larger than the 13,000-square-foot property that Bethel formerly owned, and which has been designated for other uses.
He sees the agreement as part of larger efforts to work with the Hill District community to restore its former connections to downtown.
In 2014, all of the major parties involved — which include the city, county and two public authorities — agreed to a plan intended to include Hill District stakeholders.
But the long process has required vigilance to ensure the new developments benefit the neighborhood, said Marimba Milliones, president of the Hill Community Development Corp.
“When we’re talking about addressing a historic wrong, it has to be for the entire site,” Milliones said. “The return of this land [to Bethel] is important, and we should celebrate it, but we have to keep our eyes on the broader development as we celebrate because the whole site is entangled in questions of morality and questions of good urban development and equity.”
