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ST. LOUIS — The St. Liborius Church towers over the corner of Hogan and North Market streets. The brick and limestone blocks have stood for more than a century. Its doors, topped with gothic gables, have welcomed thousands.

But its parishioners no longer come to pray.

After decades of decay, an unlikely duo is remaking the parish. Skateboard ramps have replaced pews. Color-drenched murals and graffiti cover the sanctuary walls.

An unconventional craftsman, Dave Blum, 38, and a skate park builder, Bryan Bedwell, 41, are the shepherds at St. Liborius today. The flock they tend is Sk8 Liborius, their nonprofit skate park and youth outreach center. It’s a vision the duo have been working toward for a decade, one repair job at a time.

But it almost didn’t happen.

“It was getting close to the precipice of not really being able to be repaired anymore,� said Blum.

The 132-year-old German Catholic church in ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ Place is a relic of a time when devout European immigrants arrived by the thousands. But in the mid-20th century, white flight and suburban sprawl began to drain neighborhoods of parishioners. Changing demographics across the region, from the river towns of Missouri to the farmlands of Illinois, have since closed parishes, leaving glorious spires and historic sanctuaries vulnerable to deterioration and collapse.

Now some, like St. Liborius, have been given new life.

In upstate New York, the Phi Sigma Kappa fraternity moved into a former church. A 19th century Episcopal church in Denver is now a nightclub. And a yoga studio briefly occupied a former Baptist church in New Orleans damaged by Hurricane Katrina.

In ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½, creative agency Obata was drawn to the huge windows at the former Markham Memorial Presbyterian Church on Menard Street in Soulard. The company restored the 19th century-era church into its offices more than 40 years ago, and it has become part of the company’s identity, said Executive Vice President Chris Haller.

“It’s a beautiful building,� Haller said. “It really impresses clients.�

Amanda Eydmann and her husband, Steve Kracht, left their Tower Grove South neighborhood to live in a 130-year-old former Methodist church in Pacific. The original bell is gone, but the home still has 25-foot ceilings, original hardwood floors and 19 of the church’s 20 original stained glass windows. Eydmann and her husband have spent $80,000 to improve the home, which was vacant when they bought it. They installed a new roof and siding and evicted the raccoons that were living in the attic.

“I’ve always been drawn to old buildings that have a soul,� Eydmann said.

North ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½â€™ St. Augustine church inspired Brittany and Chris Gloyd to launch nonprofit Project Augustine, which aims to provide a food pantry and community garden as well as job skills and art workshops. But like the others, neglect has stacked up at the church south of Natural Bridge Avenue: Vandals stripped the structure of its copper, the upper balcony and archways have fallen, half of the windows are gone, and water has damaged the roof. It is almost impossible to walk through the sanctuary, Brittany Gloyd said.

Barebones repairs will cost $10 million. Gloyd said they are three years from fundraising to save the building.

“Does the building have three years?� she said. “We’re working against time.�

The Church Lady

Church membership in the U.S. has fallen to its lowest point in more than 75 years, with just 47% of Americans belonging to a religious institution, compared with a high of 76% in 1945, according to a Gallup poll. The ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ Archdiocese has responded in kind: In July, it announced plans to consolidate churches, again, to devote more resources to evangelizing in the 21st century.

Cheryl Meglio has sold so many churches across the ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ region, she’s known as the “Church Lady.â€� She’s sold to funeral homes, martial arts studios, artists, homeowners and other churches. (The sellers typically prefer to sell to groups “of integrity,â€� she said; bars and strip clubs are off the table.) She’s sold the same properties several times over.

Many churches here are built in the Gothic Revival style, with ornate decorations and ribbed vaults adorning ceilings, or influenced by the Renaissance style of Florence or Tuscany. Their dramatic architecture, once awe-inspiring to congregants, now galvanizes creative reuse both locally and across the U.S.

“They represent craft that is no longer reproducible,� said Michael Allen, a preservationist and senior lecturer at Washington University.

But while cities such as Chicago or Indianapolis often demolish interiors and keep just the shell of the church, ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ efforts often aim to preserve the insides, Allen said.

Still, it’s not easy. Churches are too big for most users, and the lack of interior walls make the spaces difficult to reimagine.

Sometimes churches sit vacant for years because of a lack of succession planning: The owner has died or the church has dissolved.

That’s when trouble starts.

‘Just in time’

St. Liborius served 4,500 German immigrants and their descendants in its heyday. But by 1992, congregants numbered fewer than 200, and the archdiocese merged it with other parishes. The Catholic Worker project called the Karen House used the three-building complex as a homeless shelter but couldn’t handle the upkeep.

A decade ago, the charity handed over the keys to Sk8 Liborius. Years of neglect had nearly ruined the place. Stolen copper gutters and caps and a coffin-sized hole in the rectory’s roof allowed rain to pour in like waterfalls. Mortar crumbled. A floor joist rotted. And the complex, in its entirety, lacked modern construction, plumbing and electricity.

“We got it just in time,� said Blum.

Blum spent years at downtown ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½â€™ famous City Museum, where he worked alongside founder Bob Cassilly to repurpose found objects into a post-industrial playground. Blum is a co-owner of BLA Studios, a fabrication company that builds an array of custom items for City Museum, City Foundry STL in Midtown and others. Bedwell builds skate parks around the country with his Always Hard Concrete construction company; he built the Peter Mathews Memorial Skate Garden in Bevo Mill, the only free public skate park in the city, and the since-shuttered skate park KHVT under the Kingshighway viaduct.

Blum and Bedwell, as they have their whole careers, saw something more in St. Liborius.

“It’s a giant piece of artwork,� said Blum.

Sk8 Liborius hosted underground concerts, parties and even Shakespeare performances to help fund repairs. They posted their progress on social media, drew attention from national media outlets and built a global following.

Over the years, dozens of volunteers helped rebuild the church.

When the coronavirus pandemic hit, they used that time to get their act together and go legit, Blum said.

On a recent Saturday, bursts of thunder emanated from the church. Skateboarders slid down rails as roller skaters clattered onto the sanctuary’s 11-foot-by-40-foot vert ramp. They got free skate time in exchange for helping clean up and repair St. Liborius.

“This place is becoming like a safe haven and a monument of sorts,� said Chris Grindz, a recording artist who calls himself a skate ambassador.

A skater since 1999, Grindz said the sport creates a tight community that is blind to race, gender and class status. He’s skated with lawyers, restaurateurs and record shop owners.

“The truth is,� Bedwell said, “skateboarding is for everybody.�

The park isn’t yet open to the public. The nonprofit needs $1 million to bring the sanctuary and rectory up to code.

But for Sk8 Liborius, skating is just the carrot.

Half of the kids who skated under the viaduct are now welders, Bedwell said, attracted to the trades after seeing what a guy who looked like them could accomplish.

The nonprofit plans to offer skills training in fields atypical for underserved areas, such as construction, the arts and even music. There’s no lack of talent, just a lack of opportunity, Blum said.

“I’d love to get funded next year. But if it takes another 10 years, then it is what it is,� Blum said. “Because I know I won’t stop.�