This is the final chapter in the four-part series which I commenced a month ago when I learned that the historic Greyfriars Church on Frederick Street had been sold and is now threatened with demolition. Before this piece goes further, I would simply like to cap off the history of this venerable edifice, which traces its origins to the arrival in Trinidad of the Rev Alexander Kennedy in 1836 (he died in 1892). To his memory and in recognition of his zeal and energy, a memorial tablet was proposed and executed.
In 1923 the church hall was enlarged considerably, which increased its functionality. On either side of the magnificent pipe organ (which has now been dismantled and is allegedly being offered for sale), twin stained-glass windows were installed in 1927. The tower was enlarged and the floor re-tiled.
During the 1950s, an extensive renovation saw the outer walls plastered and the mesh covering for the windows installed. The pulpit also dates from this era, as do memorial tablets raised in honour of the congregation members who fell during the two world wars. All these works were undertaken through the funds raised by the congregation and without any assistance from the government, in keeping with the independent ideals of the church founders, who, more than a century previously, had politely refused funding from the colonial administration.
Along the way, a sense of lethargy seems to have set in and the fervour shown by older generations disappeared. The congregation shrank in size and this was reflected in the growing dereliction of Greyfriars and the hall.
The chapel roof became compromised; massive gaps began to show in the wall plastering. Service shifted from the kirk to the hall and then ceased altogether. The sister church of St Ann’s on Charlotte Street (whose own unique history will be recounted in a future article) received what remained of the Greyfriars assembly.
The little cemetery—which holds the remains of the daughter of Kennedy and two other infants—became neglected. The rear premises which once served as a carpark became a near-wilderness. The fate of the historic building seemed uncertain until the carpark was sold—and then came the awful news that the kirk and hall had followed suit.
The Rev Clifford Rawlins made this doleful situation known to me and his anguish over the matter exceeded mine, as he had been the minister at this church for several years. The sale was conducted under a cloak of ambiguity with some clarity only coming when the intrepid Joshua Surtees, a London-based journalist working with the T&T Guardian, did a series of articles on the matter and managed to speak with the new owner, businessman and developer Alfred Galy.
Mr Galy would give no affirmative statement on what his intentions were for the site, but hinted that demolition was not out of the question.
It is at this juncture, I change the tone of my usual writing style and make a direct appeal to Mr Galy to do what is ethically right and conserve the two buildings and the little cemetery that have become dear landmarks to the city and its people.
Shame and aspersion must follow those church elders who permitted the sale. Statements made in this regard postulate that the million dollar restoration of the St Ann’s church has strained the congregational purse, to the extent that a divestment of properties has become necessary—but why should Greyfriars be sacrificed to this financial constraint?
The RC Archdiocese is fighting a valiant battle in order to save its precious Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception from collapse—a building with far more serious engineering problems than Greyfriars. Could the Presbyterians not have waited until funds accumulated sufficiently to start the restoration of their church?
Even now, it is within Mr Galy’s power to save the kirk where its own elders lacked the fortitude to do so; the State, in typical style, cares not for the demise of our heritage.
Corporate Trinidad has exhibited its mettle for preservation with three swift actions in recent months which resulted in Boissiere House, George Brown House and Globe Cinema being saved by private concerns, who were well within their rights to demolish these heritage buildings but forebore to do so, instead restoring and repurposing them at great cost.
These are the final words I will write in my attempt to appeal to Mr Galy to become not the destroyer of the church, but its saviour, and let it be his legacy to the ages.