Tending a Cherished Chapel

Tending a Cherished Chapel

The old adobe church at first seems deserted. But one of the plain double doors is open a crack and Clarence Fielder is playing the claw-footed piano in Phillips Chapel, the first African-American church in Las Cruces, N.M.

Fielder’s grandfather helped organize the church a century ago. Once the church building went up in 1911, the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church became the center of the black community’s social life.

“We had good times here,” says Fielder, 75, recalling the hobo parties as a favorite childhood memory. “We would dress up as hobos and go house to house collecting handouts like apples and oranges, things people would give hobos. Then we would bring the treats back to church to share with each other.”

Fielder protectively tends the church—opening it up on Sundays, seeing that the old-fashioned stove is lit in winter, and leading singing on occasion. When a previous minister died and the church was temporarily without a preacher, Fielder taped television sermons to show on Sunday mornings.

“This church has been saved because of its historic value. Look at it, the walls are 18 inches thick and the floors are in good shape. This building will be here,” he says.

Not only was Phillips the city’s first African-American church, it also served from 1926 to 1934 as a segregated grade school and high school for black students. Fielder, who graduated from the city’s segregated school, went on to New Mexico State University, then taught social studies and history for 34 years in the city’s public schools. He now teaches African-American history at New Mexico State University.

In 2001, the Dona Ana County Historical Society named Phillips Chapel a “Building Worthy of Preservation.” Historian Bob Hart says the award was not so much for the beauty of the building as for its place in history. “The real value of Phillips Chapel goes beyond architecture and into the history of the black community,” he says.

Last year, the chapel was further honored when it was placed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed on the New Mexico State Register of Cultural Properties.

Hart credits Fielder with making the connection between historic preservation and history itself. “Without that old adobe as a reminder, that history might be forgotten,” he says.

The church, while plain outside, is as inviting as a parlor inside. Aisles carpeted in deep red, wainscot and windowsills of pine, and wooden floors that shine with the patina of age. Some 50 seats salvaged from an old theater in the 1940s have replaced the original wooden pews.

But the chapel sits in the oldest part of town and the adjacent parsonage was demolished during urban renewal in the late 1960s—a demolition that took the congregation’s only restroom. Over the years, the city’s African-American residents have chosen more modern churches in newer areas. Today, the chapel’s membership is fewer than 12, including Fielder’s niece and his great-nephew, Caeland Mosely. The 10-year-old, who serves as an usher, is the fourth generation of Fielder’s family in the church.

The county preservation award gave Fielder a chance to solve the restroom dilemma. The church’s monthly income of about $340 wasn’t enough to pay for construction and he couldn’t get a sewer hookup. So when the local newspaper interviewed him about the preservation award, he asked for help.

Ed Verploegh, a retired school counselor, read the article and volunteered. He negotiated with the city for a sewer hookup and appealed to local contractors. “Every bit of material and labor was donated clean down to the toilet brush,” he says of the $10,000 addition.

The publicity attracted several visitors, but only one new member. Phillips’ part-time minister drives 220 miles from Albuquerque three Sundays a month to lead the service, with the fourth Sunday devoted to singing.

Although the chapel’s numbers remain small, Fielder isn’t discouraged. “We don’t worry; our members are happy and dedicated. Besides,” he says, “this church is where my roots are.”

Linda G. Harris is a freelance writer in Las Cruces, N.M.

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