At The Clement

06/18/2026

06/09/2026

A scratching noise, a double surprise, and a happy ending.

05/29/2026

We did another balloon ceiling. Looks good!

03/20/2026

03/19/2026

🧱 Hands-On Tuckpointing Workshop (Interest Check)

We’re thinking about hosting a small, hands-on workshop at The Clement where you can actually try tuckpointing (brick mortar repair) yourself. You will not have to getup on the scaffold;)

This would be a beginner-friendly session where you’ll:

Mix real lime mortar (H1 binder + sand)

Learn how to get the right consistency

Try using a hawk and trowel

Fill a small section of an actual wall on-site

No experience needed — just something fun, different, and a chance to be part of restoring a historic building.

👉 This post is just to gauge interest.
If enough people are interested, we’ll set a date and details.

Comment or message if you’d want to join 👍

Pic is from when I replaced the lintel/brickwork on the belltower at At The Clement

02/08/2026

Bathroom #4 for The Clement

01/16/2026

The Day a Jesuit Priest Rang Our Bells

Back in the summer of 2018, I was knee-deep in renovations inside an old dark, dusty church, scraping old adhesive off the floor, when the dalle de verre doors suddenly swung open.

In walked a Jesuit priest in full robes.

I froze, floor scraper in hand, as he asked in a thick accent, “Where is the Father?”
I had to explain that the church had closed years ago and wasn’t a Catholic parish anymore.

He took it in stride and told me he was on a pilgrimage from Italy, retracing the life of Lawrence George Lovasik — a theologian who once went to school and church right here. At the time, I had no idea who that was, but it definitely made the visit feel extra special.

As he looked around, he noticed that all three bells were still there. His face lit up.

“May I ring them?” he asked.

I told him to go for it.

What happened next was something I never expected to see. He worked the ropes with surprising grace — almost like a dance — and before I knew it, he was lifted completely off the floor, ringing the bells in perfect rhythm and hanging there far longer than I thought possible.

And the grin on his face? Pure joy.

A grown man in full priestly robes, smiling like a kid who just discovered something amazing.

I still wish I had gotten it on video, but honestly, some moments are better remembered than recorded.

Renovation days don’t always go as planned — but every once in a while, they come with a great story.

01/05/2026

We’ve been doing some digging (literally!) across the street from The Clement as we get the new parking lot ready… and look what turned up!

This old stone jug was buried in the ground and cleaned up beautifully. From what I’ve been able to find so far, it may actually date back to before 1860. Pretty wild to think it’s been sitting there all this time.

I’m going to take a closer look tomorrow to see if there are any maker’s marks or clues about where it came from. History has a funny way of popping up when you least expect it!

01/02/2026

Meet Saint Peter — the saint who somehow ‘got away’ when everything else was removed. When the former St. Clement’s closed, people got a little over-zealous about removing anything religious. Marble was ripped out and tossed in the yard. Pieces of the pipe organ disappeared. And the stained-glass windows had big sections torn right out of them.

It was sad to see so much beauty just… destroyed.

But one thing survived.

There was a locked door no one ever bothered to break open. Behind it — up the ladder into the bell tower — there’s a single stained-glass window that was never touched.

It shows Saint Peter.
(I only figured that out after asking ChatGPT to help identify it!)

The bells are way up higher in the tower, but this window sits below them, tucked away and forgotten… and that’s probably why it was spared.

So to me, Saint Peter is “the one who got away.” I jokingly say I hope the Vatican doesn’t send the church police to come claim him — because he feels like a small miracle that stayed behind.

And yes — we’ve repaired and restored the damaged windows since then.
But Saint Peter still watches quietly from the bell tower, exactly where he’s meant to be.