Chapters of Port history written by two buildings

The foreboding object on the end of the Port Washington breakwater may look like a 58-foot high volcanic rock dropped there by some epic eruption but in fact it is the port’s lighthouse hidden in a black cocoon. Within the cocoon, workers are restoring the rusted 70-year-old lighthouse and when it emerges in October it will be a sparkling white tower on concrete arches inviting mariners to the harbor and the city that embraces it.

The lighthouse is more than a navigational aid, of course, which is why the restoration is deemed worth the $2.8 million it will cost, of which about $500,000 will come from city taxpayers. Owned by the city, the lighthouse is its official symbol, represented for posterity in the Port Washington logo. 

Port’s symbol is a working lighthouse—its light flashing red every 7.7 seconds—but has no particular historic significance, unlike the city’s second lighthouse. Half a mile and more than 100 feet of elevation away from the pierhead lighthouse, the Light Station atop the Jackson Street bluff has overlooked the harbor and city center for 165 years. 

For many decades in the age before electronic position finding, such as today’s ubiquitous GPS, was even dreamed of, its white beacon, visible for 16 miles, was a critical reference point for dead reckoning navigation. Its powerful light, no longer operating as an aid to navigators, is a replica of the Fresnel lens that occupied the light tower in its working days.

Beautifully restored and in the loving care of the Port Washington Historical Society, the Light Station embodies a seafaring heritage that is not only a cultural treasure but the city’s prime attraction to visitors. That appeal is evident in the stream of visitors to the Light Station, including those of who rent the lightkeeper’s quarters as lighthouse residents and docents, and the large numbers of people who came to town last week to see and sail on the tall ships visiting Port.

The 1860 Light Station is Port Washington’s most historically important building, but it is not the city’s signature edifice, the building that inspires awe in visitors and admiration among the residents who see it daily. That title belongs to St. Mary’s Church, the Gothic creation that fills the sky when viewed from the city’s primary downtown street far below its soaring steeple.

It’s not the church building itself that distinguishes St. Mary’s—though it is a fine representation of the Gothic Revival Style by Milwaukee architect Henry Messmer—but its dramatic presence. In a composition photographed thousands of times from the foot of Franklin Street, the two sides of the street lead the eye with perfect artistic perspective up to Port Washington’s famous “church on the hill.”

The world, to be sure, has more impressive churches, the likes of Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona, St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and Notre Dame in Paris, among many others, but few if any have the dramatic visual effect on their surrounding community that is the cachet of St. Mary’s.

It goes without saying that St. Mary’s has a special spiritual significance for Catholics and even Christians of other faiths, but its story is a chapter of Port Washington history that should be a source of pride for all community residents. How amazing is it that in 1881, a parish comprised of laborers, tradesmen and farmers, many of them second-generation European immigrants, somehow found the will and the means to fund a construction project that would cost multiple millions in today’s dollars?

Amazing too is the feat of building the complex stone structure with the primitive means available 145 years ago. 

The soon-to-be-built Port Washington data center buildings will be made with tower cranes, concrete pumps with arching booms, telehandlers and various pieces of robotic construction equipment. 

St. Mary’s Church, with its thick masonry walls supporting tons of intricately cut limestone and a 164-foot-high steeple, was made with hand-operated block-and-tackles and the strong backs and skilled hands of workers toiling on towering scaffolding. Farmers who were parish members volunteered to haul limestone rock to the site on their hay wagons.

St. Mary’s is owned by St. John XXIII Parish, but in a sense it really belongs to the people of Port Washington. This was demonstrated impressively several years ago when the old church needed a new roof. The cost was well beyond what the parish could afford, but many residents who were not parish members stepped up to contribute to preserving the integrity of a community treasure.

Buildings have something to say about a community’s history and character. Port Washington has two that say it in glowing terms.