The Magical Church of St. Luke
I am not a religious person, but I like some places of worship.
St. Luke in Liverpool or the bombed-out church, is one such place for many reasons. It stands proudly at the end of Bold Street, and its state due to a Nazi firebomb, says to many, that times may get bad, but I’ll still be here to cheer you on your way.
On Friday night, as I passed it was open. It was C’s favourite church and she’d always wanted to enter, but it was always locked. So I went in to see the party and auction that was going on.
Long after we’re all gone, St. Luke will still be there, putting two fingers up to the despots, oligarchs, stupid politicians, religious bigots and cruel people of this world.
But St. Luke is winning. Type bombed-out church into Google and you find it immediately. It really is a unique place in the world. And it appears in cyberspace too!
The Anonymous Widower 
have you been in the Catholic Cathedral in Liverpool, aka Paddy’s Wigwam. It has a beauty and peace inside that is rare. I am not a Roman Catholic. Sitting near the centre, under the crown on a sunny day, the whole feel of the building changes as the sun moves around the different colours which make up the crown.
Comment by liz | September 12, 2011 |
I’ve never been inside, but I was in Liverpool when they were building the Catholic Cathedral.
During the building, a friend Alvin Slassor, actually climbed the enormous crane. Sadly, a few months later he died in a climbing accident.
Comment by AnonW | September 12, 2011 |
Hello, I was interested in your comment about Alvin Slassor.
I believe he was my uncle and died the year I was born. His brother Des is my father.
I would love to hear from you if you have any more information about him.
Dad mentioned he was killed in a climbing accident at age 18.
Fiona
Comment by Fiona | June 15, 2014
Thanks for getting in touch. There was a group of us doing Engineering and he was very much the life and soul. I think I can remember him mentioning a brother and I also felt that his mother was single.
I remember he had a ginger-headed girl-friend, who was with him on the climbing party the day he died. She was devastated and told me what happened. They were in North Wales in a party from the Liverpool University climbing club. He was leading it, as an experienced climber and he laid a rope so they could descend a face to the ground. Everybody descended safely, with Sean going last. For some reason the rope broke or slipped and he fell to his death.
I use the name Sean, as that was what he called himself, although he was Alvin John, I believe.
For many years, I kept the clipping from the Daily Telegraph of his death in my wallet. In that he was described as Alvin John “Sean” Slassor.
It must have had a big effect on me at the time, as my late wife, added Shaun to our second son’s name, when he was born a few years later. But she got the spelling wrong!
It’s funny, but the story came up at supper last night, as I told Henry the origin of his third name.
James
Comment by James | June 15, 2014
Hi James,
Many thanks for your reply and interesting that you only talked about “Sean”last night.
I mentioned your email to Dad ( Des Slassor), Alvin’s brother.
I know he would be interested in hearing more about your memories of Alvin.
Alternatively, I could pass your email on to him if you wanted to forward it.
Cheers
Fiona
Comment by Fiona | June 16, 2014
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[…] clocks than any other city I know. And most seem to tell the right time to! Even the clock on St. Luke’s church was showing the correct time. Obviously, the Nazis couldn’t make time stand […]
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