LOCATION: Martin Luther King Boulevard at Fifth Street; Downtown; East Saint Louis, Missouri
OTHER NAME: Masonic Lodge (1980's)

The Catholic Community House is a stately institutional building that is much more complex than it first appears. From looking at its front facade, one would assume that the Community House is a typical home with long halls lined by small dormitory rooms and the occasional closet. This is not so. For one thing, the building’s stem is joined by two wings to make a “U” shape. One of these wings houses a graceful two-story auditorium that retains an intact proscenium—the perfect place to stage some clandestine performance. The first floor confounds all expectations: it’s mainly a wide open series of large rooms, including the auditorium and what seems to be a cafeteria. While the upper floors indeed conform to a hallway plan, they are punctuated by a warm, light-filled central stairwell and the sinister branch halls. I write “sinister” carefully, because that is always the sense that I get when turning the corner here. I have been overcome by a sense that I am not supposed to be in these side halls on the second and third floors. Perhaps this is because the rooms on these halls seem to be occupied; on my last visit there, I heard someone turn in bed and cough behind a closed door.

This building attracts beautiful sunlight at most hours, and the beauty is enhanced by the soft, lovely colors on the walls. Despite the strange sensations the upper floors generate for me, the first floor always seems bright and cozy. Never mind that the front door isn’t locked, and that anyone who is living upstairs may have to some downstairs at some point; the first floor seems to be space for the imagination. I want to create something there; I want to play. Below the first floor lies a dark and damp basement that catches beautiful light, albeit much less than the first floor. I first visit the basement with two fellow documentarians, Angela and Sarah, in December. The basement’s clutter is not very appealing, and parts of it are completely dark. Amid makeshift bedding in the basement, Angela, Sarah and I find two rolls of film—one unused and one used. I develop the roll only to discover boring images of an eastside Christmas party. The rolls, I suppose, are the disappointing remnants of a purse snatching—at least according to the most realistic speculation. My more wild speculation leads me to imagine a double life for any one of the people depicted in the photos...

See a vintage postcard at ESLARP.