The house that Thompson built
From Election Day 1904, when he cast a ballot for Theodore Roosevelt, until his death on Sept. 27, 1933, Josiah VanKirk Thompson lived at his estate just outside Uniontown.
Now, 84 years after his demise, the future of the former Thompson house and grounds is ringed with uncertainty.
Since it was purchased by the Sisters of St. Basil the Great and converted from Oak Hill to Mount Macrina during the Great Depression, J.V.’s erstwhile homestead has been in good hands.
Actually, it’s been in the very best of hands. The Sisters have lavished time and treasure on the estate. They’ve been especially attentive to the house, which sits on a piney knob across the highway from Uniontown Mall.
A number of years ago the Sisters replaced the house’s weather beaten, aging roof. They were meticulous about the work, and not just because a newer, sturdier roof would serve their purposes. They were concerned as well for the legacy of the house, what it had meant both to J.V. and to the community.
The Sisters had this notion that Thompson, a banker who made millions buying and selling coal lands, warranted a certain respect. Maybe it was their Christianity, but nothing could dissuade them from the idea that J.V. was heroic — a good man who battled impossibly long odds after his 1915 bankruptcy. As a consequence, what Thompson had built at Oak Hill was surely worth honoring and keeping.
Besides all of that, J.V.’s life-story was a crackling good one. It was a joy to see the Sisters take delight in the many Thompson tales. Visitors to the mansion were regaled with anecdotes such as the fact that gaming tables once graced one of the downstairs rooms.
Gossipy gems relating to Oak Hill’s mistress, J.V.’s second wife Hunnie, would sometimes creep into the conversation, although the smudge on Hunnie’s reputation was a light one. Hunnie’s eccentricities were emphasized.
No better measure of their high regard for Thompson and the house he called home was their love for the late Amerigo “Pat” Pallini, an utterly charming and delightful individual, the son of J.V.’s faithful husband and wife house servants.
Pat enjoyed the distinction of having been born at Oak Hill. He adored J.V. The Sisters adored Pat, and he them.
The news, reported by the 蘑菇视频’s Frances Borsodi Zajac last Sunday, that the Sisters were on the lookout for “partners” with which to “share” Mount Mariana in order to defray some of the cost of maintaining the buildings and grounds of the estate should not have been a surprise, given the state of things.
As the provincial, Sister Ruth Plante pointed out to Zajac the number of nuns belonging to the Byzantine Catholic Order has been in steep decline: from a high point in the 1960s of 150 to today’s enrollment of 43, including 23 who live in the monastery on the grounds and 10 others residing at the estate’s nursing home.
The monastery, built in 1965, was designed to accommodate 100 sisters.
According to Sister Ruth, the times demand tough choices. The Order wants to continue to call Mount Macrina home. “Hopefully, we can find folks who are willing to work with us,” she told the newspaper.
To be frank, I am not neutral when it comes to old Oak Hill. From the moment I was afforded a glimpse inside the mansion by Pat Pallini and Sister Barbara Jean in the mid-’80s, I was hooked.
And that goes for the grounds as well. There is no better place to walk late on a summer’s day than Mount Macrina.
Neither am I neutral toward J.V. Thompson. The man had his faults. Vain and egotistical, he was complicit in his own bankruptcy, which caused financial hardship for so many people who trusted him to do the right thing. He didn’t, and others paid dearly for his carelessness and malfeasance.
But when he was down he fought back. Thompson valued dogged determination maybe above all other attributes. He took up writing a rather detailed account of his daily activities in early adulthood. He quit for several years, resuming in 1919. Afterward, only death itself stilled J.V.’s fervent devotion to keeping track.
Maybe it’s the Pat Pallini affect. Pat loved the guy. Who am I say that Pat got it wrong?
So, here’s hoping the Sisters succeed. Here’s hoping Oak Hill-Mount Macrina are around another hundred-plus years. Here’s to Sister Ruth and her band of conventuals finding the right partners — as she said, people with “good ideas to benefit the local community.” They are hopeful it can be done.
Uniontown wouldn’t be Uniontown without the house that Thompson built.
Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown and is the author of two books — Grand Salute: Stories of the World War II Generation and Our People. He can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com.