There's an old saying.. "Most things appear very dull just before they become magnificent."

Sitting atop a hill above Lisle, St. Joan of Arc church stood out like a jewel. Anyone who lived in Lisle will remember the wonderful sound of her bells being heard throughout the town.

As a kid, I couldn't comprehend how anyone could demolish anything this beautiful. To this day, the explanations still feel as empty as they did then. Like "It's so outdated!" "It's falling apart!" "Maintenance costs!" etc. etc.
Thirty years later, those explanations still sound like “bull.”

So many towns, churches and universities have found ways to preserve the history that exists within the walls of such wonderful structures. What the heck was our excuse?

I remember the small crowd of people that came to watch the demolition.
Most of us stood in the north parking lot with our jaws completely dropped. There's a certain amazement that comes with any large-scale demolition. But there were also strong and mixed emotions that had not yet been put into words.

I remember the huge yellow crane that was brought in to get the job done. It's large "tank like" tracks would squeak as it positioned itself for it's next barrage. The engine of the crane would belch out its exhaust and, as the onlookers braced themselves, the wrecking ball would strike the wall. The bricks, glass, wood and memories splashed apart and came tumbling down into large gray piles of rubble.
After each hit, clouds of dust would rise and then sadly hang over the debris. Hanging like clouds of lingering souls making one last inventory of there long time home... before having to move on.
This was obscene! No one there could believe it.

As the day wore on, the churning of the crane's engine continued and the walls of the church slowly crumbled to the ground. What happened next, none of us will forget.

By this time there may have been thirty to forty people standing in the parking lot. My friends and I, standing as we always did with our bikes upright between our legs. The area now looked like a scene from a
World War II movie. Piles of bombed out rubble and smoke lay before us. Yet, for some reason, the wrecking crew left the bell tower standing for last. Seeing it standing there... Towering above the ruins...
It almost became symbolic. Like a last gesture to finally remind us of her beautiful existence.. And the chapter that was now about to be ended.

The crane moved to get a better shot with the wrecking ball. Everyone in the parking lot moved to the end of the lot closest to the church. We all held our breath as the ball swung back and took aim. Everyone had been secretly waiting to see this final strike. Once the tower was gone... It would be finished.
Still in disbelief, no one could imagine watching that wrecking ball hit that beautiful bell tower. Like slapping the face of anyone that had ever held this place dear, the ball arrogantly smashed into the tower. You could almost hear the voices of the many children that had attended within her walls screaming "WHY?"

The ball hit the tower with a harsh ferocity. But what happened next... no one expected.
After the ball hit, a large portion of the tower's wall dislodged and came tumbling to the ground before us. As it hit the ground, it burst into hundreds of bricks and large pieces of debris. The pieces then started rolling and bouncing down the gassy hill towards the parking lot... and we were all directly in its path! I remember dropping my bike and running away with everyone else. I felt like I was in one of those Japanese movies running from Godzilla! Bricks were flying everywhere and I wasn't stopping till I hit the road! When everyone stopped running, the first thing people did was look around to see if anyone was hurt. Everyone appeared to be ok but I had lost a couple of bike spokes to one of those flying bricks!

The crane turned off its engines and the workers ran down to the lot to make sure everyone was alright. Most people dusted themselves off and reassured others that they were fine. At that point, a certain silence fell over the area. Everyone, including the workers, stopped and just stared at the now destroyed bell tower.
" This was it." "It's gone."

At that point, it was as if a cloud of quiet embarrassment fell over us all. And over our town.
We were all sharing the empty feeling of having done nothing...

After a long silent pause, most just turned and walked away...

The picture on the left shows those wonderful stairs that bring back so many memories for many of you. All that is remaining today is a small cement slab that used to have the bike rack on it. It's just about ten feet left of the stairs. The picture on the right was an unbelievable find! It shows the priests blessing the begining of the construction (probably in the early 1920s). What's really cool is when you look at the people standing on the upper right side of the picture, look at the view behind them. No homes and hardly any trees for that matter.